felix hominum

Bartimaeus, the question of vision, & what I have on my nightstand

It is by that, more than anything, that a man is judged.

-Charles' father, speaking of "the wearing of tall hats on Sunday", in Brideshead Revisited.  

I do have a tall hat (the proper finish to a morning coat and crevat), although I have to confess that it has been some time since it wore it on a Sunday. Instead, I propose we judge a man by what he has on his nightstand.  It is here that you will find a man's character:  his ambitions and his failings.  Rather than have human resources departments administer all sorts of psychological tests, I propose that we simply give them a list of things we have beside our beds.  That will show them the true state of our lives.  I would have given a full list of what is beside mine, only it toppled over in a Babelesque display a few days ago.  So now I just get up on the other side of the bed.  All of this does give me a chance to go through and catalogue the assorted things I've been reading over the past month.  1984 (Orwell), The Odyssey (Homer, not Simpson), Truth and Method (Gadamer), Simply Christian (NT Wright), MIssion Shaped Parish, and a few other odds and ends, not least of which is the autobiography of MIles Davis.

Over the last few weeks I've been struck again by the story of Bartimaeus.  I read it and preached on it in the past, but it has stayed with me.  I have found myself returning to it from time to time. It is the story of vision.

Mark 10: 46-52

Then they came to Jericho. As Jesus and his disciples, together with a large crowd, were leaving the city, a blind man, Bartimaeus (that is, the Son of Timaeus), was sitting by the roadside begging.  When he heard that it was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to shout, "Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!"  Many rebuked him and told him to be quiet, but he shouted all the more, "Son of David, have mercy on me!"

Jesus stopped and said, "Call him." So they called to the blind man, "Cheer up! On your feet! He's calling you." Throwing his cloak aside, he jumped to his feet and came to Jesus.

"What do you want me to do for you?" Jesus asked him. 
The blind man said, "Rabbi, I want to see."

"Go," said Jesus, "your faith has healed you." Immediately he received his sight and followed Jesus along the road.  

We don't know the cause of Bartimaeus' blindness, but at least we know this, and so does Bartimaeus:  he knew that this was not the way God intended him to be.  He knew something was wrong.  He somehow knew what it was to see, though now he only knows what it is to be blind.   

The beginning of vision is the recognition of the need for Jesus;  vision begins with repentance. And then comes the choice:  to listen to the crowds who rebuke, or to keep seeking the vision which comes from Jesus.  I love Bart's reaction when he learns that Jesus is calling him - he jumps to his feet.  Would that all our responses to God's call were the same - an eagerness to be part of what Christ is doing in the world.  

Much of what I've been reading in the last little while has to do with vision: a vision for society & community;  a vision for humanity;  a vision of ourselves;  and a vision of Christ.

"What do you want me to do for you?" Jesus asked him. 
The blind man said, "Rabbi, I want to see."

Mark 9:30-37 sermon notes, Pentecost 16

They went on from there and passed through Galilee. He did not want anyone to know it; for he was teaching his disciples, saying to them, "The Son of Man is to be betrayed into human hands, and they will kill him, and three days after being killed, he will rise again."  

But they did not understand what he was saying and were afraid to ask him.  Then they came to Capernaum; and when he was in the house he asked them, "What were you arguing about on the way?"  But they were silent, for on the way they had argued with one another who was the greatest.

He sat down, called the twelve, and said to them, "Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all."  Then he took a little child and put it among them; and taking it in his arms, he said to them,  "Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes not me but the one who sent me."

Let's begin with the end.  If the biggest sacrifice Jesus ever asks of us to be more welcoming to the children in our churches, then we have it pretty easy.  I actually find this episode rather humorous.  After all, who are the ones who are being "childish", as we say?

Jesus begins by telling the disciples what his program is:  suffer, die, and rise again.  This is what Jesus - what God - is up to.  But the disciples did not understand what he was talking about, and so did what every rational person does when confronted with a situation they don't understand:  they ignore it and go on to something else.  I am reminded of times when I have observed either myself or someone else in a similar predicament:  you are in a situation where something is going on, or someone is talking, about something you don't understand.  And then the greatest of instincts kicks in - the instinct to avoid looking stupid at all costs.  This, I speculate, is even greater than the instinct to preserve life itself.  I would venture that there are situations where we would rather end life, rather than face the embarrassment of admitting that we don't know something.  That we don't understand what is going on.

I suspect this instinct is even particularly acute when it comes to Jesus, when it comes to God.  We don't have a full grasp, or perhaps even any grasp, of what Jesus is doing.  And so the instinct to avoid looking stupid takes over, and we avoid either asking the question, or doing something to help us find out (like praying and asking God himself).  And this is the first thing we need to admit - we often just don't know or understand what God is up to.  And so those first disciples, like thousands that have come after them, avoid Jesus, avoid God, and miss out on what Jesus is trying to tell them.

And then I think a second instinct kicks in, we might almost call it a law of nature.  It goes kind of like this.  If you are not going to talk about how great God is, you are going to talk about how great YOU are.  If a group of disciples is not focused on what Jesus is doing, then they will naturally become preoccupied with what THEY are doing.  And of course their must be a ranking of all the disciples - who is the greatest?

The way Jesus interrupts them is brilliant.  He is about to teach them using children as an example.  And so his approach to them is a pattern which every parent recognizes.  You can hear the noise from across the city.  There are sounds of bones breaking, walls caving in and glass shattering.  you walk into the room.  "What's going on?", you ask.  And the reply is always the same:  "Nothing."   I have ascertained through research conducted over the course of a decade, with 4 constant Experimental Subjects (with an equal number of each gender) that when something is "going on", the reply is pretty much the same.  Peter, James, John!  What are you disciples talking about?  "Ummm...Nuthin', Jesus..."

So Jesus calls them out on their desire to focus on themselves.  On their desire to be great, to be in charge, to have things go their way.  This is not how the kingdom of God works.  The kingdom of God is not a place where I get to have my way all of the time.  It's not even the place where you get to have your way.  It's the place where God through Jesus gets to have His way.  It's the place where our first question is not "what do I want", but rather "what does Jesus want".

And then Jesus takes a child and puts the child in the midst of them.  Now this is where Jesus confronts their greatest fear:  beyond looking stupid, beyond getting caught doing something dumb, I suspect that these disciples, like thousands that have come after them, have another paralyzing fear:  the fear of children in their midst.  The most unpredictable, uncontrollable element is thrown into the mix.  Jesus took a little child and put the child among them.  You can almost see them squirm.

It often goes unnoticed that there just happened to be a child close by.  I suppose we read these stories thinking that Jesus just pulled a kid out of thin air.  But it seems to me that Jesus had kids around him on a fairly regular basis.  Children tend to show up in the Gospels at the most inconvenient times for the disciples.  Look what Mark records in the next chapter:

And they were bringing children to him that he might touch them, and the disciples rebuked them. But when Jesus saw it, he was indignant and said to them, “Let the children come to me; do not hinder them, for to such belongs the kingdom of God. Truly, I say to you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God like a child shall not enter it.” And he took them in his arms and blessed them, laying his hands on them.


Then he took a little child and put it among them; and taking it in his arms, he said to them,  "Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes not me but the one who sent me."  So a word for the church:  do you want to welcome God?  Then welcome Jesus.  And if you want to welcome Jesus, then welcome the children in your midst.  Too often the church fails to learn from the simple examples that Jesus gives us.

Which leaves me with a couple of questions which are still lingering in my mind...  How comfortable are we with kids acting like kids in church?  Or how comfortable are we with kids in church generally?  Or how do we respond & provide for kids' desire and need to worship, to pray, to be present with Jesus?

Mark 6: 14-29; Pentecost 6; sermon notes

I can't wait to see what people are going to come up with who do children's stories and such for this week in church:  underage girl dances for jaded old man, who then (to save face) orders the beheading of John the Baptist.

Now some of the Jews thought that the destruction of Herod's army came from God, and that very justly, as a punishment of what he did against John, that was called the Baptist: for Herod slew him, who was a good man, and commanded the Jews to exercise virtue, both as to righteousness towards one another, and piety towards God, and so to come to baptism; for that the washing [with water] would be acceptable to him, if they made use of it, not in order to the putting away [or the remission] of some sins [only], but for the purification of the body; supposing still that the soul was thoroughly purified beforehand by righteousness. Now when [many] others came in crowds about him, for they were very greatly moved [or pleased] by hearing his words, Herod, who feared lest the great influence John had over the people might put it into his power and inclination to raise a rebellion, (for they seemed ready to do any thing he should advise,) thought it best, by putting him to death, to prevent any mischief he might cause, and not bring himself into difficulties, by sparing a man who might make him repent of it when it would be too late. Accordingly he was sent a prisoner, out of Herod's suspicious temper, to Macherus, the castle I before mentioned, and was there put to death. Now the Jews had an opinion that the destruction of this army was sent as a punishment upon Herod, and a mark of God's displeasure to him.

Josephus, Antiquities XVIII 5.2

So Josephus, as well as Mark, tells us a bit about the death of John the Baptist.  There are lots of interesting tidbits about this Herod.  He is not the same Herod who was around for the birth narratives - that would be Herod the Great:  master builder, architect and general crazy man.  This Herod is Antipas, and seems to share only the last quality of the Great.  Let's set the stage for the Herod in this story.  He had married a Nabatean princess, who then fell out of favour, and he ended up marrying his brother's wife.  Apparently this did not sit well with the Nabateans, who subsequently waged some minor war with Herod and roundly defeated him.  Herod was bold if nothing else.  He was called Tetrarch, but wrote to the Emperor to ask for the title of "King".   Herod's nephew (Agrippa) decided in the mess of things to accuse Herod of disloyalty to Rome.  The emperor, Caesar Gaius Caligula, was not impressed and ended up issuing a decree of banishment to Herod and his new wife - sending them off to Gaul.  Well, there you have it.

That's a bit of background;  thoughts on the text itself will be up after dinner...

King Herod heard of it, for Jesus' name had become known. Some were saying, "John the baptizer has been raised from the dead; and for this reason these powers are at work in him."  But others said, "It is Elijah." And others said, "It is a prophet, like one of the prophets of old."  But when Herod heard of it, he said, "John, whom I beheaded, has been raised."

Mark uses this opportunity to have a bit of an historical interlude:  an account of the events surrounding the death of John the Baptist.  The scene is implicitly introduced with the perennial question:  who is Jesus?  We have some of the answers which are given at other places in the Gospels where this question arises - prophet, Elijah, etc.  But here it is not Jesus' own question (who do you say that I am?) which raises the speculation.  Rather, it is Jesus' actions which provoke the question.  There are then two ways of looking at asking the question "who is Jesus?".  One is verbal, and the other is practical.  We may ask the question by our words.  Or, like Jesus in this case, we may provoke the question with our actions.

For Herod himself had sent men who arrested John, bound him, and put him in prison on account of Herodias, his brother Philip's wife, because Herod had married her.  For John had been telling Herod, "It is not lawful for you to have your brother's wife."

Apparently John the Baptist lived in an era when questionable people with political power would get involved in messy family dynamics that involved such things as dumping your first wife for someone else.  And John seems to have had the gall, or the courage, to step up and tell Herod that what he was doing was wrong.  John's trouble seems to start when he can't keep his religion to himself:  he makes it a rather public matter.  And he goes straight to the top, no less.  The same John who called the ordinary people to repent of their sins does not hold back from giving the same call to Herod.  It's interesting the way that Mark phrases this:  just a sort of matter-of-fact pronouncement that "it is not lawful" for Herod to be doing this.

And Herodias had a grudge against him, and wanted to kill him. But she could not, for Herod feared John, knowing that he was a righteous and holy man, and he protected him. When he heard him, he was greatly perplexed; and yet he liked to listen to him.  But an opportunity came when Herod on his birthday gave a banquet for his courtiers and officers and for the leaders of Galilee.  When his daughter Herodias came in and danced, she pleased Herod and his guests; and the king said to the girl, "Ask me for whatever you wish, and I will give it."  And he solemnly swore to her, "Whatever you ask me, I will give you, even half of my kingdom."  She went out and said to her mother, "What should I ask for?" She replied, "The head of John the baptizer."  Immediately she rushed back to the king and requested, "I want you to give me at once the head of John the Baptist on a platter."  The king was deeply grieved; yet out of regard for his oaths and for the guests, he did not want to refuse her.

This whole episode comes about because of the collision of two things:  the public nature of Herod's promise, and the public nature of John the Baptist's ministry.  There is lots to be said on that topic:  the public nature of the Christian faith.

On another front, the whole episode is like a foreshadowing:  just as John was to go ahead of Jesus in life, so he goes ahead of him in death.  Executed at the command of a political power who wished to save face, and laid in a tomb...

John 15: 1-8 Easter 5 Year B sermon notes

 John 15: 1-8

"I am the true vine, and my Father is the vinegrower.  He removes every branch in me that bears no fruit. Every branch that bears fruit he prunes to make it bear more fruit.  You have already been cleansed by the word that I have spoken to you.

Abide in me as I abide in you. Just as the branch cannot bear fruit by itself unless it abides in the vine, neither can you unless you abide in me.  I am the vine, you are the branches. Those who abide in me and I in them bear much fruit, because apart from me you can do nothing.

Whoever does not abide in me is thrown away like a branch and withers; such branches are gathered, thrown into the fire, and burned.  If you abide in me, and my words abide in you, ask for whatever you wish, and it will be done for you.

My Father is glorified by this, that you bear much fruit and become my disciples.

This is all just a rough sketch of some ideas on this passage.  Which, by the way, I consider to be a bit more important at the moment than catching up on all the Anglican Communion news and goings on, but I'll get around to that stuff later.

Jesus is telling his disciples a little bit about gardening.  After all, a lot of these guys are fishermen, not farmers, so he goes through it slowly and tries to explain a few things to them.

He highlights four things: "I am the true vine, and my Father is the vinegrower.   He removes every branch in me that bears no fruit. Every branch that bears fruit he prunes to make it bear more fruit.  Jesus is going to talk about these four things:  The Vinegrower, the Vine, the Branches, and the Fruit.

The Vinegrower: 

First let’s look at the Vinegrower.   Jesus says “my Father is the Vinegrower.”  God is a gardener.  He is interested in planting something and growing something.  And he has a purpose in mind – his purpose is that the branches should bear fruit.  This gardener is growing a vine – he wants to produce grapes.  A vineyard is not usually just something that you grow to look at – you grow it for the fruit it produces.  So it is with God the Father.  He has planted a Vine, and made a vineyard.  And he wants it to produce fruit.  That is not so far fetched.  After all, that is what the vine and the branches are supposed to do – that is what they are made to do.

Now God is quite an attentive gardener, and he takes this business of producing fruit pretty seriously.  Look what Jesus says about the Vinegrower:

“He removes every branch in me that bears no fruit. Every branch that bears fruit he prunes to make it bear more fruit.”

This  Gardener – this Vinegrower – is pretty particular.  Unlike many of us who will let things in the garden slide for a while, this gardener stays on top of things.  “He removes every branch in me that bears no fruit, and every branch that does bear fruit, he prunes to make it bear more fruit.”  This gardener has a purpose in mind, and He takes care to make sure the vine and the branches end up the way they are supposed to;  doing what they were intended to do. 

It takes quite a bit of a plant’s energy to bear fruit.  If you notice fruit trees or vineyards, you see that there are flowers, and then there is the fruit.  The flowers look nice and smell nice and are all very pretty, but they aren’t very nourishing.  But God is not interested in how pretty we look as Christians, or whether we smell nice.  He is interested in whether or not we are bearing fruit.

Let’s hope and trust that we are in the second group of branches – not the branches that get cut off, but those that get pruned to bear more fruit  Those of us who are attentive gardeners in our own back yards know that sometimes we need to cut branches off in order to make the rest of the plant healthier.

What happens when we start to bear fruit?  Well, God is so interested in our spiritual health, and he is such a careful gardener, that he will start to prune any branch which bears fruit.  But he does not prune randomly or without any purpose.  He will only prune the branch in such a way that it will bear more fruit. 

I know what I start to think when I hear Jesus talking about “pruning”.  I start thinking little garden pruners with really sharp edges, or I start to think about my garden shears, or worse, I start to picture the new 22 inch gas powered hedge trimmer whizzing through the bushes chopping the top and sides off every shrub in the yard.  It’s not a very appealing image – this pruning business.  But then again, maybe it isn’t supposed to be.  God wants us to grow into healthy branches.  Are there parts of us that are spiritually unhealthy, and maybe need a bit of pruning?  Are there parts of us where we need a habit pruned away, a bad attitude clipped back?  Maybe there is an area of our lives where we are not growing spiritually, and God needs to do a little bit of pruning to get the growth started in the right direction.  If we trust the gardener, we will have faith that the end result will be good. 

Pruning is done to focus the plant’s energy in the right place – and that is what God wants us to do – focus our energy on the right things.

The True Vine:

15:1 "I am the true vine, and my Father is the Vinegrower.”

Jesus qualifies this description of himself as the vine with a small but very important word.  He says I am the true vine.  Not just any vine, but the true vine.  What does that mean?  Well, he is saying that He is the real source of life for the branches.  He is saying that it is only through him that the Vinegrower will work.  And it is only through Jesus, the True Vine, that the branches will be able to grow and bear fruit. 

When Jesus says He is the true vine, he is also saying that there must be a few false vines going around the garden.  What does a false vine look like?  Well, on the surface it might look very much like a true vine.  Jesus is saying that there are lots of other things and powers in the world which might promise to help us grow into healthy branches and bear fruit, but they are false vines – there is only one true vine. 

What are some false vines?  Whatever promises to give life, and safety and fulfillment and happiness, but doesn’t have the power to deliver.  My money – maybe I think that finances will be a true vine – that they will be a source of life and happiness for me.  My job – maybe I think that it will be a source of security for me.  Or I might even think that I am the true vine – that everything I am and everything I have is solely due to my own hard work, good looks, and cleverness.  A false vine is anything that promises to deliver what only God can really give.  What are you counting on as your vine – is it the True Vine?  Jesus says,  I am the true vine.

The Branches.

That’s you and me.  We are the branches.  What does Jesus say to us, to the branches?

15:4 Abide in me as I abide in you.

First Jesus uses this word “abide”.  It’s a word that pops up quite a few times today.  What does it mean to abide?  It means to live as a part of – to be a part of, and to remain a part of. 

Jesus tells us how we can be healthy branches.  Abide in me as I abide in you.  The relationship between the vine and the branches is this:  The vine is the source of life and nourishment and strength.  The branches are totally dependant on the vine for everything.  For a branch to abide in the vine means that the branch gets its life, its energy and its nourishment from the vine.  This life flows from the vine into the branches.  They are connected.  This life and nourishment and energy actually has a name –  the Holy Spirit. 

Remember that John used this word abide six times in the letter we just read:  What does he say?:
By this we know that we abide in him and he in us, because he has given us of his Spirit.

[4:14 And we have seen and do testify that the Father has sent his Son as the Savior of the world.
4:15 God abides in those who confess that Jesus is the Son of God, and they abide in God.
4:16 So we have known and believe the love that God has for us. God is love, and those who abide in love abide in God, and God abides in them.]

How do we know that we abide in God?  God’s own life goes through the vine and out into the branches - “The Holy Spirit”.  If we want to bear fruit – if we want to bear the fruit of the Spirit in our own lives and in the lives of others, we need to get the Spirit through the Vine – through Jesus. 

“Just as the branch cannot bear fruit by itself unless it abides in the vine, neither can you unless you abide in me.
I am the vine, you are the branches. Those who abide in me and I in them bear much fruit, because apart from me you can do nothing.”

Our efforts are nothing unless they are in the vine.  Dependence upon the vine for everything.

Here is the basic image – connected to the source of life and growth.  When you are cut off from that source, you wither and die.

Here is a branch that is by itself.  If you think you can grow and bear fruit apart from Jesus, you are mistaken.  What does Jesus tell us?  “Apart from me you can do nothing.”  Now a branch can be cut from a tree and for a while you can stick it in water and it will look pretty good for a few days maybe.  But eventually it will start to turn brown, because it is cut off from the source of its life.  That’s what Jesus is telling his disciples.  If you cut yourself off from the vine – you might look green and fresh for a while, but do you know what?  You will wither spiritually sooner or later.  It’s just a matter of time. 

Abide in the vine. 

We are branches for a purpose – and that purpose is what Jesus calls: the fruit.

The Fruit:

What is this fruit we are supposed to bear – we who are the branches?  There are a couple of senses to this word “fruit” as it comes up in Scripture.  There is the sense that we have fruit in our own lives – that our own lives and hearts bear fruit.  Look at the poster on the side wall of the church.  What is the fruit of the Spirit – love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, self control -- these are the things that God is interested in cultivating in our lives.  You want joy in your life? Abide in the Vine, and let the vinegrower do the necessary pruning.  You want more faith, more love, more kindness?  Abide in the Vine, and let the Vinegrower do his work.

Then there is the sense of bearing fruit in terms of the “harvest”.  Jesus uses a lot of farming and agricultural images in his teaching.  And here he is building on that.  Throughout the gospels, Jesus uses this same image to describe evangelism – telling others, whether that is by words or deeds, in big ways or small ways – about the kingdom of God.  Bearing fruit means that  we are conscious of our task as branches that the plant is supposed to grow outward.   

You know, it is not the vine itself that bears the fruit – it is the branches.  God has handed this task over to us – all the branches.  If we are in the vine, and the life of the vine flows through us, we will bear fruit.  How will we do that?  Let me give you a couple of simple examples.  Invite someone you know to church.  We are in a bargain here – It’s your job to get people into the church – and maybe it’s my job to keep them here.  Plant a seed – mention something about God in a conversation with someone.  Be ready to tell someone what Jesus means to you.  Gossip the Gospel. Pick someone you know who is not a Christian and pray for them. Consistently.  Show God’s love to someone in some practical way.          Bear Fruit.

The fruit is also our relationship with Him:
15:7 If you abide in me, and my words abide in you, ask for whatever you wish, and it will be done for you.
15:8 My Father is glorified by this, that you bear much fruit and become my disciples.

Now we get to God granting our requests.  Jesus makes an offer to us.  “Ask for whatever you wish, and it will be done for you.”  What does this mean?  Notice that this comes at the end of the discussion, not at the beginning.  This is going to be a bit of a wrestling match.  It seems to a lot of people these days that there are secret formulas you can use with God to get what you want out of Him.  This is not about fulfilling a certain condition so that God will do favors for me.  It’s not like I can just go down a checklist and say – “okay, now I’m abiding in Jesus, and now his words are abiding in me, now here’s my list of things I want God to do for me.”  This is not about a bargain, it is about a living relationship.  A live branch living in a live vine. 

So when you are in this living relationship with Jesus, you will know a couple of things.  You will know that you are there to bear fruit, and that you are there to become a disciple.  And those two things will condition your asking.  If you are abiding in Jesus,  you will ask for things which will somehow help you in those two areas – bearing fruit and becoming a disciple.  And Jesus will grant those requests.

“If you abide in me, and my words abide in you, then you can ask for whatever you wish, and it will be done for you.”  We need to be connected to Jesus, who is the source of all life and power and goodness, before we can have access to the strength that is there. 

We need to bear fruit – in our own lives and in the lives of others, and we need to do that by first becoming disciples ourselves.  We need to ask for the Holy Spirit.  It is an amazing thing.  The very same life and power and love of God which flows from the Father to the Son – from the Vinegrower into the Vine – will flow into us – the branches.   We will be changed, and so will those around us. 

John 10: 11-18 Easter 4 year B, sermon notes

John 10:11-18

"I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.   The hired hand, who is not the shepherd and does not own the sheep, sees the wolf coming and leaves the sheep and runs away--and the wolf snatches them and scatters them.  The hired hand runs away because a hired hand does not care for the sheep.

I am the good shepherd. I know my own and my own know me,  just as the Father knows me and I know the Father. And I lay down my life for the sheep.  I have other sheep that do not belong to this fold. I must bring them also, and they will listen to my voice. So there will be one flock, one shepherd.

For this reason the Father loves me, because I lay down my life in order to take it up again.  No one takes it from me, but I lay it down of my own accord. I have power to lay it down, and I have power to take it up again. I have received this command from my Father."

sheep & goats (where's the shepherd?)
photo Joe Walker 2008

One of the things which strikes me about the sermons I've heard over the years on the whole "good shepherd/ sheep" theme is that most urban westerners focus on what they see as the negative qualities of the sheep.  I mean, I've heard lots of explanations of how sheep are foolish, stupid, ridiculous, unmanageable animals.  Which may very well be the experience of urban westerners who have had contact with sheep. 

There are really two problems with those kinds of sermons.  First, they tend to focus most of their energy on the nature of the sheep, rather than the nature of the shepherd.  And after all, is the story about the sheep, or is it about the nature of the "good shepherd"?  Second, they tend to think that middle eastern flock management in Jesus' day was something similar to visiting an uncle's farm an hour outside of town, and watching with amusement as someone with a dog tries to herd a few lambs into a pen for the evening.  That is not entirely the case.  What we tend to forget is that sheep - flocks - are the wealth of the one who owns them.  They are not a measure of wealth, they are the wealth.  And the pastoral work involved is much more, shall we say, "free range", than the agricultural practices we might have in mind when we think of raising sheep in a commercial setting.  But enough of that.  I'll dig up some pictures and show you.  If you have the time & energy, you can get a bit of cultural flavour adjustment from someone like Ken Bailey:  Jesus Through Middle Eastern Eyes

But what of the good shepherd?  It seems that the main theme of the story is the comparison between the good shepherd and the hired hand, and on this count the good shepherd has at least 3 qualities which are missing from the hired hand:  commitment, care, and connection.  (If I'm not careful, this will turn into one of the those dreaded '3 point sermons'...)

Commitment.  

The hired hand does not own the sheep.  Jesus says that this is the first point to notice about the hired hand.  So the hired hand does really have an investment in the welfare of the sheep.  As long as he gets paid his wages, and nothing too troubling happens, he is happy.  He is not really committed to the sheep.  When the hired hand sees the wolf coming, he “leaves the sheep and runs away”.  He sees danger, or difficulty coming, and he says to himself “If it comes down to a choice between saving your skin or saving my own skin, I think I’ll save my skin, thank you very much.”  There is no commitment when the wolf comes.  That is the first big test of the good shepherd versus the hired man. 

Lack of commitment is one of the great modern spiritual diseases.  New years’ resolutions are made to be broken and made again the next year.  The test of commitment is that it sticks around when the wolf comes.  Notice that Jesus does not say “if the wolf comes”,  he says  “when the wolf comes.”  Commitment is not comfort. 

The good shepherd owns the sheep, they are his personal possession – he has invested himself in their well-being.  When trouble comes – when the wolf arrives – the hired man flees;  but the good shepherd stays.  Jesus had the opportunity to save his own skin, but he chose to save yours instead.  When it came down to a choice of saving the sheep or saving himself, Jesus gave up his own skin.  “The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep”.   Jesus gave up his own skin to flogging by the Roman guards,  to wearing a crown of thorns, and finally to having his skin pierced by the nails as he was hung on the cross.  The good shepherd is committed to his sheep, even laying down his life for their sake.

Care.

Jesus tells us “The hired hand runs away because a hired hand does not care for the sheep.”  Care is what gives our commitment its bite, its stability, its endurance.  The hired hand might stick around for a bit because he has a job to do; or because he feels it is his duty; or because he is just in the habit of doing it.  But eventually his motivation will become clear, and motivation will tell us whether he is a good shepherd or just a hired hand.

Jesus is very interested in our motivation for doing the things we do.  The bottom line is this:  the good shepherd is motivated by love – he cares for the sheep;  the hired hand is motivated by something else – maybe in this case by his paycheque.  We can do a lot of “good things” as we think of them, but they don’t impress God unless we do them out of the right motive.  Because our motives are the spiritual engines that drive us.   We can fool a lot of people with our actions.   I can do a lot of good looking things,  and people see the outside,  but God sees into my heart, and sees my motivations.  We can go through life motivated by self interest; by the pursuit of comfort and pleasure, by status and looking good in other people’s eyes; by fear.  But Jesus tells us that the real motivation he wants us to have is “love”.  The hired man does not care for the sheep, the good shepherd does care.  When the wolf comes, the shepherd who loves the sheep will stay, the hired man who does not love will flee.
Jesus cares for his sheep – he loves them. 

Connections.  

What is the difference between a bunch of houses and a neighbourhood?  Whether or not the people who live there actually know each other to any significant degree.  It’s the difference between a group of buildings and a community.  What does Jesus say about the relationship between the good shepherd and the sheep? “10:14 I am the good shepherd. I know my own and my own know me,”  Jesus is interested in making a personal connection with us, and he wants us to make a personal connection with Him – to get to know him for who he is, not just at a superficial level. 

Sometimes we shy away from making that personal connection with God, with Jesus.  When we look around, how many people are there of whom we could say “I know them, and they know me.”?  We probably don’t have many people in our lives of whom that statement is really true.  If we have someone in our life like that, it is probably because we have spent time with them, and we have talked with them.  Spend some quality time with God – pray.  You really want the inside scoop on someone - read their diary – all their secret thoughts.  You can pick up God’s diary free from the Gideons – it’s called the Bible.  Everything you need to get to know God is in there. 
Sometimes we get to know people at a very superficial level, and we let them get to know us at a superficial level.  Connection is based on commitment and care.  If you trust that someone is committed to you, and that they really care, you will let them get to know you better, and if you are committed and you care about them, then you will take the time to get to know them. 
Jesus is issuing us an invitation in this passage.  He is trying to tell us that he is committed to us, and that he cares for us.  Now are we willing to do the same  - so that we might get to know him, even as he knows us already.  To make a connection to God.

Easter 2, Year B sermon notes: John 20:19-31

This is the week when "doubting Thomas" shows up on the scene, and there is plenty to think about in that whole episode.  From another angle, both the Gospel reading and the other NT reading (1 John 1:  - 2:2) come from John,  and in both readings there is a theme of touching, sensing - becoming convinced through a sort of physical encounter.  To start with the letter of John, here is how it begins:

We declare to you what was from the beginning, what we have heard, what we have seen with our eyes, what we have looked at and touched with our hands, concerning the word of life-- this life was revealed, and we have seen it and testify to it.

So we have an image of using the "senses":  a very physical image of what backs up John's 'testimony'.  This, to me, speaks not only of the physical experience which the early disciples had of Christ, but also is a reminder of the place of the physical self in our relationship with God.  John's approach is clearly anti-gnostic on this point, although it is not anti-intellectual.  John merely extends the implications of the Incarnation from the prologue of the gospel:  God, as Jesus, can be seen and touched.  There is also the theme of life in both the letter and the gospel. 

John 20:19-31

19 When it was evening on that day, the first day of the week, and the doors of the house where the disciples had met were locked for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood among them and said, "Peace be with you."

I've always found Jesus' first message to this group of disciples to be, well, amazing.  Their first need is peace.  I suppose that there are those among us who wish they had asked about what it is like "on the other side", or some other kind of curiosity raised the cat question.  But John is quite plain about telling us of their fear - one of the most disabling of feelings.  On top of that, it appears that Jesus' 'new and improved' body has a few abilities that the old body did not have.  Yet Jesus is entirely recognizable, once he has come to the point of showing the wounds he received on Good Friday.  Perhaps, like him, our own wounds will still be visible, though healed, transformed.  The healed wounds of the risen Christ are a marvel.  I think there is much to meditate on in that image.

20 After he said this, he showed them his hands and his side. Then the disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord.

21 Jesus said to them again, "Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I send you."  22 When he had said this, he breathed on them and said to them, "Receive the Holy Spirit.  23 If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained."

Now we carry on what Jesus did.  Just as the Father sent Jesus, so Jesus sends the disciples.  He breathes on them and gives them the Holy Spirit.  This is not the same as the day of Pentecost.  This is a task given to the apostles to carry on the work that Jesus began.  Remember the first thing that got Jesus in trouble with the religious authorities.  Long ago Jesus told people that he could forgive their sins.  And that got him in trouble.  Now he gives the same authority to the apostles.  Not because of any merit they have, but because Jesus commissions them to do this.  “If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven.  If you retain the sins of any, they are retained.”  Each week during communion we Anglicans (and other denominations) have a general confession, and then the priest pronounces the absolution.  Do you know why?  You do now.  It is because Jesus gave this charge to the apostles.  And when I pronounce the absolution of sin, I am simply obeying Jesus’ command, and actin gas him ambassador.  Your sins are forgiven.  It is as if Jesus himself were saying to you - Your sins are forgiven. 

24 But Thomas (who was called the Twin), one of the twelve, was not with them when Jesus came.  25 So the other disciples told him, "We have seen the Lord." But he said to them, "Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands, and put my finger in the mark of the nails and my hand in his side, I will not believe." 

Ah, poor old Thomas - this is the only part of his story we usually remember, but it is not the only part to Thomas’ story.  Thomas is the first one to acknowledge Jesus as “Lord and God”.  That is who Jesus is.  But we are getting ahead of ourselves.  What exactly is doubt?  And what role does it play in the formation of Thomas?  I was going to say "in the formation of Thomas' faith", but that is not really what the issue is.  This distinction is crucial.  What role does doubt play in the formation of Thomas?  Here is a bit of discussion on faith and doubt with Peter Rollins, make of it what you will.

Here is the thing which I find least discussed, but most important once you recognize it:  the "proofs" (let's use that as a working term for now) which Thomas requires, and which Jesus offers (both to Thomas and to the other disciples earlier) have to do with his crucifixion.   It is in the showing of his hands and sides, the showing of his wounds, the marks of the cross, that both the disciples and Thomas come to recognize Jesus.  It is not a generic 'proof' - it is the showing of something very particular:  the wounds of the Cross.

No, I don't have a full explanation why this is the case at this point, only that a careful reader will notice this unmistakable detail and pattern:  the wounds of the cross establish the identity of Christ for the other disciples and for Thomas.  It seems to me that this casts the questions about "doubt" and "faith" in a different light.  This is not a story about merely providing empirical evidence for the status of Jesus.

And it seems to me that the way Thomas comes to believe has to do with identifying, participating somehow if you will, in the wounds of Christ:

26 A week later his disciples were again in the house, and Thomas was with them. Although the doors were shut, Jesus came and stood among them and said, "Peace be with you."  27 Then he said to Thomas, "Put your finger here and see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it in my side.

Do not doubt but believe."

28 Thomas answered him, "My Lord and my God!"

29 Jesus said to him, "Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe."
30 Now Jesus did many other signs in the presence of his disciples, which are not written in this book.  31 But these are written so that you may come to believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that through believing you may have life in his name.

[ed] - we interrupt this post to go to school to pick up a kid who is feeling sick...  hopefully we can resume later today.

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...

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.

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...

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.

sermon notes Epiphany 6, Year B, Mark 1: 40-45

A leper came to him begging him, and kneeling he said to him, "If you choose, you can make me clean."  Moved with pity, Jesus stretched out his hand and touched him, and said to him, "I do choose. Be made clean!"  Immediately the leprosy left him, and he was made clean.

After sternly warning him he sent him away at once,  saying to him, "See that you say nothing to anyone; but go, show yourself to the priest, and offer for your cleansing what Moses commanded, as a testimony to them."  But he went out and began to proclaim it freely, and to spread the word, so that Jesus could no longer go into a town openly, but stayed out in the country; and people came to him from every quarter.

I want to start at the end.  Silence and proclamation - which one do we choose, and why?  it is fascinating to consider why Jesus asks him to say nothing until he has fulfilled the law.  There is a line in the Psalm appointed for today (Psalm 30) which highlights this:  "You have turned my mourning into dancing; you have taken off my sackcloth and clothed me with joy, so that my soul may praise you and not be silent."  It seems to me that our final response is one of expression, not silence.

But now back to the beginning:  I think the leper showed either great desperation or great courage, or perhaps a combination of the two.  The leper comes close enough (we are not told how close) to be heard and seen by Jesus.  Like some of the other healings and exorcisms early in Mark's Gospel, the one being healed does not question whether Jesus can heal.  It is a question of what Jesus will do.  Those are tough kinds of prayers:  I believe you can do it, God;  but will you choose to do it?

(insert lunch break here...)

Lunch has been accomplished.  Now, the OT reading is about another leper - Naaman.  What really strikes me abou these two lepers (Naaman and the leper in the gospel) is just this:  It takes Naaman forever to make up his mind and act, while it takes the leper in the gospel all of about 10 seconds to decide what to do.  Simple as that.  Here's some thoughts: The story of Naaman takes a great deal of space, probably one of the longer readings we have had in church.  It takes Naaman quite a while to decide what to do – what choice to make.  Naaman had a particular problem that he wanted fixed – he had leprosy.  He sent and found out from the prophet Elisha what he needed to do:  Go and wash seven times in the Jordan, and he would be made clean.  Simple enough;  but look at Naaman’s response:

“But Naaman became angry and went away, saying, "I thought that for me he would surely come out, and stand and call on the name of the LORD his God, and would wave his hand over the spot, and cure the leprosy! Are not Abana and Pharpar, the rivers of Damascus, better than all the waters of Israel? Could I not wash in them, and be clean?" He turned and went away in a rage.”

First, he became angry and he went away.  After all that, he decides to get angry and leave.  Why?  Because he had decided beforehand how God should heal him, and he doesn’t like the news he has received.  Naaman starts to give an explanation of why he got so angry.   Notice Naaman’s  objection  “I thought for me he would surely….”  And that is the first part of his problem.  Naaman thought to himself – “Surely for ME  this God would do something special – something different, something big and impressive!!!”   Second,  Naaman thought that God should treat him differently – that there should be some recognition of what an important person he was.   It’s as if he were saying to God “Don’t you know who I am?  I am Naaman the commander – a very important person.”  Thirdly, Naaman thinks he could improve on God’s methods of curing him.  After all, he says, aren’t all these rivers of Damascus better than that polluted old Jordan River?  And couldn’t I just go there instead?  

But his servants approached and said to him, "Father, if the prophet had commanded you to do something difficult, would you not have done it? How much more, when all he said to you was, 'Wash, and be clean'?"  So he went down and immersed himself seven times in the Jordan, according to the word of the man of God; his flesh was restored like the flesh of a young boy, and he was clean.

It took Naaman a long time to make his choice, and it was the right choice in the end, because how else could he be cured?  Some might say that Naaman took the hard way rather tan the easy way. 

“A leper came to him begging him, and kneeling he said to him, "If you choose, you can make me clean."
“ Moved with pity, Jesus stretched out his hand and touched him, and said to him, "I do choose. Be made clean!"

Now that story really takes all of about 10 seconds to read out, and about that same amount of time for the leper to be healed.   First we had Naaman, now we have this leper.  You tell me who picked the easy way and who picked  the hard way to get better.  The nameless leper did something which Naaman was not wiling to do – to leave the choice up to Jesus – leave the choice up to God.  This leper is not interested in making any decisions on his own.  Listen to what he says to Jesus:  “If you choose, you can make me clean.”  And the emphasis here is on “YOU CHOOSE”.  The leper thinks to himself – “If I leave the choice up to God, if I let Jesus in on my decisions, if I trust HIS choices, maybe things will go better for me.”

We weigh a lot of things when we make decisions.  And the bigger the decision, the more we try to take time in order to take in everything that we can.  You make a major purchase, like a car or a house, and you probably spend at least a little bit of time thinking about it.  People decide on careers, relationships, all sorts of things.  And we have our own ways of making decisions.  Very few, if any of us, would be like the leper.  Very few of us would simply look at Jesus and say “YOU CHOOSE”. 

Naaman takes a long and roundabout way to get to his goal, because he does not like God’s choices.  The leper in the gospel simply leaves all the choosing up to God.  And most of us probably fall somewhere in between most of the time. 

When we make our choices in life – whether big or small, we need to be more like the leper in the Gospel.  We need to invite Jesus into our decisions.  We do that through prayer, through reading the Scriptures to get insight into how he views life, and through being humble enough to accept good advice when it differs from what we ourselves think is best. 

If the decision is important (and most of them actually are) Jesus will make himself just as clear to us as he did to the leper.  Jesus is interested in all our choices – big and the small.   He says “I do choose – be made clean”. 

sermon notes - Transfiguration, Mark 9, (Matthew 17)

This week's year's option for the last Sunday after Epiphany will be the feast of the Transfiguration.  The story occurs in all 3 synoptic Gospels, with some variation of details.  See Luke 9:28 and Matt 17.  A coupling can easily be made with other readings and images from scripture.  Exodus 24:12-18 tells us the story of God giving the Commandments (lit 'words') from Sinai.  A comparison of the words from the two mountains can make a good start.  The new word from the mountaintop is that Jesus is the Beloved, and to listen to him is the key to the new commandment.  2 Peter 1:16-21 makes reference to the transfiguration "on the holy mountain" (this is the new Sinai?), and the letter says something of the nature of revelation.  Matthew's version is rather fuller than Mark's version, so we will start there:

Matthew 17:1-9

1 Six days later, Jesus took with him Peter and James and his brother John and led them up a high mountain, by themselves. 2 And he was transfigured before them, and his face shone like the sun, and his clothes became dazzling white.

Mark's 9 version: 

2 Six days later, Jesus took with him Peter and James and John, and led them up a high mountain apart, by themselves. And he was transfigured before them, 3and his clothes became dazzling white, such as no one on earth could bleach them.

We have a setting like that of Sinai - a sort of divine revelation on a mountaintop.  A note on the geography.  Tabor, the traditional site of the Transfiguration, is lush, (Mt. Hermon is a strong possibility, and it is a source for the Jordan...streams of water).  The traditional site of Sinai (or any other site you might want to suggest as plausible) is mountain desert.  I find it an interesting geographic contrast to think about - both Tabor and Hermon are so geographically different from anything in the Sinai, north or south...   What exactly goes on when Jesus is "transfigured"?  It is not merely the same as what we think of as being "changed".  Essentially, who Jesus is on the "inside" is made physically manifest on the "outside".  His physical appearance tells us something about his identity.

The Year B OT reading comes from 2 Kings 2:1-12, the story of the taking up of Elijah.  Like the Transfiguration, it is a story about seeing something "unearthly";  Elisha sees Elijah for who he has become in God:  "a chariot of fire and horses of fire separated the two of them, and Elijah ascended in a whirlwind into heaven".  And in Mark's version of the Transfiguration, Jesus and his disciples go on to talk about the "coming of Elijah" in the next pericope.

Most of us want "change" on the outside;  God wants change on the inside.  Remember that when Moses came down from the mountain, "his face shone".  This is rather like a spiritual sunburn - Moses reflected God's glory.  It was not something which came from within, but something that came from without.  In the person of Jesus, the glory that was hidden within is now made manifest.

[4] And there appeared to them Elijah with Moses, who were talking with Jesus. [5] Then Peter said to Jesus, ‘Rabbi, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.’ [6] He did not know what to say, for they were terrified.

Moses and Elijah - representing the law and the prophets bearing witness to who Jesus is.  Meanwhile, Peter does what too many of us tend to do:  when God is doing something amazing, we focus on building projects.  Now it doesn't of course have to be a building project, but when Jesus makes his presence known, that is what we should pay attention to.  If God is at work, don't get bogged down in the wrong things.  We can be like Peter when we spend our time and energy on the "externals" - the mere trappings of church - and then we can miss out on the presence of Jesus in our midst.

[7] Then a cloud overshadowed them, and from the cloud there came a voice, ‘This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him!’ [8] Suddenly when they looked around, they saw no one with them any more, but only Jesus.

[9] As they were coming down the mountain, he ordered them to tell no one about what they had seen, until after the Son of Man had risen from the dead.

Church of the Transfiguration/ Mt Tabor/ Israel/ 2007

UPDATE:  lunch is now well finished.  Now where was I?  Oh yes, the Transfiguration.  There is something to be said for learning to see the glory in Christ.  Parallel to this is learning to see the glory in each creature made in the image of God.  To see Jesus for who he really is should have a profound effect.  Likewise, seeing every other human being as a creature made in the image of God should also have a profound effect.

The voice from the cloud is an echo of the voice heard at Jesus' baptism.  It speaks not only of Jesus' identity, but also of his relationship to the Father.  And then there is that little addition:  "Listen to him."  If the Israelites were to listen to Moses and the revelation from the old mountain, how much more are to listen to Jesus, and the revelation from the new mountain. 

The phrase "this is my beloved..." connects the two episodes of baptism and transfiguration in the person of Christ.  And I suppose that we are to see the connection in ourselves:  as we are called in baptism to be beloved of God, so we are also called to be, well, not exactly transfigured yet, but changed.  And there is a pointing forward in the reference to the resurrection to the renewed body, the resurrected life, the fully transfigured life which will be given to us in God's grace.  It is only after death and resurrection that the final transfiguration takes place. 

That whole fear thing throws people for a loop, eh?  The disciples fear simply the sound of the voice; I wonder if they comprehended at the time what the words were actually saying? [When confronted with an actual religious experience, most men retreat into "Home Depot" mode...]

All too often we castigate these expressions of fear on the part of humans as some sort of divine bullying - as if the disciples' fear was God's fault.  It is entirely possible, and I think more likely, that human fear at the manifest presence of God is rather an indication of problems within ourselves, rather than in God.  Jesus touches and reassures:  do not be afraid.

This passage is a fitting end to the Epiphany season - we have followed Jesus from birth, to early childhood, to baptism - all events which gave us insight into who he is.  The Transfiguration gives us a "final" glimpse of who he is.  The season of revelation is complete.

two guys died in the year 1274

One was St Thomas Aquinas:

I answer that, It was necessary for man's salvation that there should be a knowledge revealed by God besides philosophical science built up by human reason. Firstly, indeed, because man is directed to God, as to an end that surpasses the grasp of his reason: "The eye hath not seen, O God, besides Thee, what things Thou hast prepared for them that wait for Thee" (Isaiah 64:4). But the end must first be known by men who are to direct their thoughts and actions to the end. Hence it was necessary for the salvation of man that certain truths which exceed human reason should be made known to him by divine revelation. Even as regards those truths about God which human reason could have discovered, it was necessary that man should be taught by a divine revelation; because the truth about God such as reason could discover, would only be known by a few, and that after a long time, and with the admixture of many errors. Whereas man's whole salvation, which is in God, depends upon the knowledge of this truth. Therefore, in order that the salvation of men might be brought about more fitly and more surely, it was necessary that they should be taught divine truths by divine revelation. It was therefore necessary that besides philosophical science built up by reason, there should be a sacred science learned through revelation.
(Summa - Prima Pars)

the other was St Bonaventure:

The source of sacred Scripture was not human research but divine revelation.  This revelation comes from the Father of Light from whom the whole concept of fatherhood in heaven and on earth derives.  From him, through Jesus Christ his Son, the Holy Spirit enters into us.  Then, through the Holy Spirit who allots and apportions his gifts to each person as he wishes, we receive the gift of faith, and through faith Christ lives in our hearts.  So we come to know Christ and this knowledge becomes the main source of a firm understanding of the truth of all sacred Scripture.
(On Understanding Scripture: Prologus: Opera Omnia 5, 201)

If you ask how such things can occur, seek the answer in God’s grace, not in doctrine; in the longing of the will, not in the understanding; in the sighs of prayer, not in research; seek the bridegroom not the teacher; God and not man; darkness not daylight; and look not to the light but rather to the raging fire that carries the soul to God with intense fervour and glowing love. The fire is God, and the furnace is in Jerusalem, fired by Christ in the ardour of his loving passion.
(Journey Into the Mind of God: Cap. 7,1 2.4.6: Opera Omnia, 5, 313)

Do you see a difference between the two approaches?  I like putting these two authors side by side.  You can certainly see a difference in approach (although Bonaventure as well had his share of structured writing).  There are parts of me which resonate with Aquinas' approach to the subject of theology and scripture, and parts which resonate with Bonaventure's approach.  Yet the two are saints in the same church.  I believe that they essentially (a good Aristotelian word) are saying much the same things, or at least things which complement each other.

sermon notes Epiphany 4, 2009; Mark 1:21-28

They went to Capernaum; and when the sabbath came, he entered the synagogue and taught.  They were astounded at his teaching, for he taught them as one having authority, and not as the scribes. 

Just then there was in their 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!"  And the unclean spirit, convulsing him and crying with a loud voice, came out of him.  They were all amazed, and they kept on asking one another, "What is this? A new teaching--with authority! He commands even the unclean spirits, and they obey him."  At once his fame began to spread throughout the surrounding region of Galilee

There are any number of themes once could pick up on here.  What is "authority";  why does Jesus seem to have it but the regular religious leaders don't?  Is it the content of Jesus' teaching which astounds them, or simply the way he presents it?  After all, wouldn't they be teaching out of the same text?  But perhaps Jesus is a bit more familiar with the subject matter.  Then, here we are in the season of Epiphany - getting to be shown who Jesus is - and we have the demon telling us about Jesus' identity.

Authority leads to the question of revelation.  How is it that the unclean spirit knows Jesus' identity, but the rest of the people don't.  If you are into the messianic secret, this is the place to start.

The violence of Jesus:  "Have you come to destroy us?"  Well, in a word, yes.  It is interesting that destruction is here at the beginning of the gospel.  We (or at least I) don't think too often of the "destroying" role of Jesus - but certainly from this perspective, Jesus is the spiritual Chuck Norris (who, by the way, does not do push ups;  Chuck Norris pushes the earth down).  Jesus who gives life is also one who comes to destroy.  Wonder how many will take that approach.  Well, maybe another time...

Then we have the relationship between theory (teaching) backed up or illustrated or reinforced, by the action of healing/exorcising.  It seems that the second use of teaching/authority has to do with the results, with the difference in the real world (or at least the real life of one man) which Jesus makes.

They went to Capernaum; and when the sabbath came, he entered the synagogue and taught.  They were astounded at his teaching, for he taught them as one having authority, and not as the scribes.

If you are following the lectionary, it is fairly easy to let the lesson from Deuteronomy point the way for the Gospel.  DT 18:18: "I will raise up for them a prophet like you from among their own people; I will put my words in the mouth of the prophet, who shall speak to them everything that I command."  So we have the scene set for someone new to come into the picture.  There is an emphasis on the "newness" of Jesus' teaching;  it is unlike (and yet must somehow be like) everything which has come before.  Jesus begins in a traditional enough setting:  the community gathered in the synagogue, on the Sabbath.  So in one sense Jesus preserves the customs, or at least he uses the traditional forms to begin his public teaching.  But something in his "teaching" makes the average listener suddenly become aware that this is different from the stuff they get from the scribes.  But what exactly is this business about authority?  What is it to teach with authority?  And does this passage seem to indicate that the average congregant was already aware that the scribes were offering them rather poor fare?  That the scribes and the leaders did not speak with authority, even though they had the positions of authority? Interesting that the question of authority provided bookends for the gospel story - think of Jesus and Pontius Pilate facing off over that question.  And how our ideas of authority/autonomy affect how we receive Jesus.

Now we have a lot of trouble with the relationship between authority and autonomy.  It might be too simplistic to say that we love autonomy and we hate authority, except when we ourselves get to exercise the latter.  Is recognizing Jesus’ authority the first step in the process of faith?  Or does it come later on in the process?  What is the relationship between accepting the authority of Jesus and becoming a follower?  Do you have to recognize his authority first?  Well, not exactly.  While this passage comes at the beginning of the gospel, and obviously has something to say about the authority of Jesus which will colour the rest of the story, the people understand that Jesus has authority but it does not say that they accept that authority.  It merely says that they were amazed that someone would get up and teach this way. 

I have some thoughts on the demon-guy, but I'll wait til after dinner.  One of the bottom lines for me is that Jesus teaches with authority on the subject matter at hand because He is the subject matter at hand.  

mmm.... spaghetti... pinot noir...

sermon notes Epiphany 2, 2009; John 1:43-51

The next day Jesus decided to go to Galilee. He found Philip and said to him, "Follow me."

Now that Jesus has been baptized, he seems all set to engage in his public ministry.  It is essential to Jesus’ ministry that he begins not with preaching to the crowds, but my calling an individual.  While we often are tempted to think of ministry in terms of groups, numbers, and crowds, at the beginning of Jesus’ ministry is the call to an individual.  Then there is the first request:  follow me.  What that means I’m still working out.  Certainly it is at least a combination of action and belief, of practice and theory.  To follow means to walk a certain way.  Philip will have lots of opportunity to live out his vocation in community, and in relationship to others, but at the very beginning it is a specific and personal call from Jesus.  The call from Jesus does not remain a “private” event in Philip’s life.  Instead, in response to the personal call from Jesus, Philip finds himself proclaiming this Jesus to others:

Now Philip was from Bethsaida, the city of Andrew and Peter.  Philip found Nathanael and said to him, "We have found him about whom Moses in the law and also the prophets wrote, Jesus son of Joseph from Nazareth."  Nathanael said to him, "Can anything good come out of Nazareth?" Philip said to him, "Come and see."

While thinking about the atheist bus campaign in Britain (and soon, we hope, coming to Canada), I can’t help but think that Philip’s invitation to Nathanael is a bit of a model response.  Nathanael is skeptical, and Philip simply offers an open invitation:  “Come and see.”  This kind of invitation differs from Jesus’ direct call to Philip.  And I think there is perhaps a lesson there:  the way in which Christ called me is not necessarily the way in which He will ask me to invite someone else into the kingdom.  Philip, it seems, responded to a direct “command” if you will;  while Nathanael responded to an open-ended invitation.

When Jesus saw Nathanael coming toward him, he said of him, "Here is truly an Israelite in whom there is no deceit!"  Nathanael asked him, "Where did you get to know me?" Jesus answered, "I saw you under the fig tree before Philip called you."  Nathanael replied, "Rabbi, you are the Son of God! You are the King of Israel!"

This seems to me the heart of Nathanael's experience:  he realizes that he is "known" by Jesus.

Jesus answered, "Do you believe because I told you that I saw you under the fig tree? You will see greater things than these."  And he said to him, "Very truly, I tell you, you will see heaven opened and the angels of God ascending and descending upon the Son of Man."

lunch is calling... will pick it up later

sermon notes: Baptism of the Lord 2009; Mark 1: 4-11

As a bit of a preamble to this week's sermon notes, I have sometimes amused myself by imagining what it would be like for Jesus to get baptized today in one of our typical Anglican parishes.  In my mind's eye I see John the Baptist as the rector, who sees Jesus walking toward him in the distance.  "Oh, look.  It's him.  I bet he's going to inquire about baptism.  Should I make him take the classes, or just do it because his mother is in town?  And I'm sure that after I baptize him I won't see him again for months, or years...  hmmm...  And how am I going to fill out the baptism registry?   Oh hello Jesus.  Yes, yes, I can do a baptism today, though I'm awfully busy with my repentance preaching.  Just need to fill out a couple of forms for the registry and certificate..."

"You’ll need a couple of godparents.  What's that?  Redundant term? Never mind, we'll call them sponsors – two would be preferable."
Eh? What's that? Moses and Elijah – representing the Law and the Prophets – bear witness to you?"
 
"Father name and mother's maiden name? (oh never mind)... God the Father, but conceived by the Holy Spirit  and born of the Virgin Mary."

"Given names?  Wonderful Counsellor, the Mighty God, Prince of Peace, Emmanuel God with Us, Word of God, Light of the Nations, Messiah, Only Begotten Son, Lord of Lord and King of Kings, Man of Sorrows, Lamb of God."

Enough of that;  sorry, I digress from my purpose.

I find that there are at least a few things about Jesus' baptism which strike me as, well, odd.  Not odd in a bad sense, just odd in the sense that I can't quite fully figure out what they all about.  The Baptism of the Lord is often seen as Jesus' entry in his public ministry.  And yet it is not an active beginning, it is a passive beginning.  Baptism is not something which Jesus does, but rather something which is done to him.  At the very outset of his own ministry, Jesus is the recipient of someone else's ministry.  Jesus allows something to be done to him.  I wonder if this is part of the pattern of his ministry, and ultimately his passion.

Second is the great declaration from the heavens:  You are my beloved, etc, etc.  God's declaration occurs before Jesus has really done anything.  It is a declaration about identity, not about activity.  Too often we reserve such declarations until after some notable action has taken place, or after some activity has been accomplished.  But the declaration of love comes before Jesus has done any healings, cast out any demons, preached any sermons, welcomed any strangers.  He hasn't walked on water, suffered on the cross, fed any crowds.  He has simply been Jesus.  I think about the priority of identity over action.  Who Jesus is precedes what Jesus does, at least temporally.

Third is the "torn apart heavens".  It is a wonderful image.  Like the veil of the temple being torn in two, or the beard of the Christ being torn by the soldiers.  It seems nothing in the Christian life advances without there being something "torn apart".  This is something I want to think on more.  The gospels are really full of things being torn apart:  bread is broken, families are divided, garments are rent.  It seems to be a submerged theme - things torn apart, and it starts right here at his baptism.

Mark 1:4-11
John the baptizer appeared in the wilderness, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.  And people from the whole Judean countryside and all the people of Jerusalem were going out to him, and were baptized by him in the river Jordan, confessing their sins.  Now John was clothed with camel's hair, with a leather belt around his waist, and he ate locusts and wild honey.

Josephus, in the Antiquities of the Jews (XVIII Chapter 5), writes that John was a "good man", and had his run in with Herod.  Here's a sample, which I include for interest sake:

[John] commanded the Jews to exercise virtue, both as to righteousness towards one another, and piety towards God, and so to come to baptism; for that the washing [with water] would be acceptable to him, if they made use of it, not in order to the putting away [or the remission] of some sins [only], but for the purification of the body; supposing still that the soul was thoroughly purified beforehand by righteousness. Now when [many] others came in crowds about him, for they were very greatly moved [or pleased] by hearing his words, Herod, who feared lest the great influence John had over the people might put it into his power and inclination to raise a rebellion, (for they seemed ready to do any thing he should advise,) thought it best, by putting him to death, to prevent any mischief he might cause, and not bring himself into difficulties, by sparing a man who might make him repent of it when it would be too late.

The long and the short is that we have the forerunner of Christ appearing, taking the garb and posture of a holy man or prophet, proclaiming repentance, and offering a baptism to signify that change of heart.  John is "proclaiming", and proclamation will be a big part of the ministry of Jesus and his followers, as it continues to be a vocation of the church today.  We are called to "proclaim".  It is interesting that John's message seems to appeal to both urban and rural:  we have folks from the countryside and folks from Jerusalem.  His message seems to cut across many lines.

Now a question I have is this:  does John only have the power to proclaim repentance, or does he also have power to proclaim forgiveness?  As Mark writes: "proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins".  Did the baptism of John accomplish this forgiveness?  Well, answering from this side of the gospel events, no, sort of...  John himself points people toward Jesus, and speaks of the difference between the baptism he offers and the baptism that will be offered by Jesus:

He proclaimed, "The one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to stoop down and untie the thong of his sandals.  I have baptized you with water; but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit."

John's preaching of repentance, without the assurance of forgiveness in Christ, would lead, I think, only to despair.  To be made conscious of my faults, without the assurance of forgiveness and the healing of God's Spirit, would, in the end, simply cause me misery without relief.  That is why a call to repentance must always lead into an assurance of forgiveness.  When Jesus came to be baptized by John, Jesus transformed this baptism of repentance into something greater.  He transformed it into a baptism of forgiveness, and then into a baptism of grace.

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."

sermon notes: Epiphany 2009, Matthew 2: 1-12

some thoughts...

The epistle reading is Ephesians 3:1-12, which contains the following thought:  "In former generations this mystery was not made known to humankind, as it has now been revealed to his holy apostles and prophets by the Spirit."  The word mystery comes up several times in this section of Ephesians.  The sense of mystery as something hidden which is now being revealed is the theme of Epiphany.

Matthew 2:1-12

2:1 In the time of King Herod, after Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea, wise men from the East came to Jerusalem,  2 asking, "Where is the child who has been born king of the Jews? For we observed his star at its rising, and have come to pay him homage..."

The progression of the Christmas season began not only with Advent, but many months before.  With the Annunciation it was the angel Gabriel who spoke directly and clearly to Mary about the child who would come.  And throughout the Gospel stories leading up to the Nativity, angels and direct revelations were prominent – they figured in the stories of Elizabeth and Zechariah as they waited for the birth of John the Baptist.  On Christmas eve, too, we remember that there was a revelation to the shepherds in an unmistakable and sure fashion:  the glory of the Lord shone round them, a heavenly chorus filled the skies, and they were told in certain terms to go to Bethlehem, and they would find the child Jesus.

Then we celebrate Epiphany – the coming of the Magi to adore and worship the newborn King, the revelation of Christ to the Gentiles.  If Christmas is about the shortest route from here to Bethlehem (as the Shepherds discovered), then Epiphany is about a longer, ‘pilgrim’ road to Christ.

Instead of angels and visions, we have the image of the magi following a sign in the skies – in nature – and for a longer period of time.  The magi see the intentions of God in the skies.  This is not new:  Psalm 19 tells us that the heavens themselves declare who God is, and that his handiwork is seen in created nature.  But still with a tinge of the “Christmas miraculous”, it is a peculiar kind of sign – “we observed his star at its rising”.  The magi know that there is something significant happening.  In a way we might in all likelihood hazard a guess that they even believed in the divine.  But the whole story of Epiphany reminds us that a general belief in God is a beginning point, not the end point.

The magi have a general idea of this God and this King of the Jews, but they don’t know how to find him.  The general revelation that God gives us are evident everywhere, and the wise pay attention to God’s hints about Himself that he has placed in the world.  Traveling by starlight is a wonderful thing, it got the magi to the right country.  But God does not want us to come to a country – to a merely general idea of God.  He wants us to find Jesus.

In the Epiphany story there are several characters who have the opportunity to find Jesus, but refuse.  First we have “Herod, and all Jerusalem with him”.  Matthew says that they both had the same reaction – “They were frightened”. They are afraid of something new – a new power that they have no control over.  Herod is frightened because the new king of the Jews is a threat. Herod  is the ruler and there is room on his throne for no other.  The people are afraid because they are afraid of Herod -= anything that upsets him, upsets them.  They know Herod is a bit of a tyrant – and anything that makes him upset is a threat to their peace and well being.  At all costs – don’t get Herod agitated.

I need to avoid the temptation of reacting like Herod:  I am threatened that God wants to somehow be King in my life, ‘rule’ my life.  Who is on the throne of my life?  Is it Jesus, or is it me?  There can be only one ruler, one king.  Is it Jesus, or is it me?  Herod decided that there was no room for Jesus in his world.  I am in charge of my life, and no one else.  Self sufficient, self determined, and in the end, self centered.

The people who make up “all of Jerusalem” in the story are frightened like Herod, but for different reasons.  They are perhaps a step ahead of Herod.  They have not placed themselves on the throne of their lives.  They do not say “I will rule my own life”.  Instead, they have let someone else rule their lives.   But they have picked the wrong person.  They have decided to let Herod rule their lives.  Why does Matthew say “Herod, and all of Jerusalem with him, was frightened”?  Jerusalem is frightened because Herod is frightened.  They have thrown their lot in with Herod their ruler, instead of with God, their true Lord.    Whatever Herod thinks, they think, whatever Herod says, goes.  If Herod is scared, then we better be scared, or at least act like it.

We are like “all Jerusalem” when we are controlled by someone else’s reactions and someone else’s opinions.  The people of Jerusalem were afraid of Herod – he controlled how they felt.  They were really at his whim.  It is a very subtle, but very powerful, form of fear.  “All Jerusalem”  is  like someone who is constantly waiting for someone else’s reactions, someone else’s approval or disapproval, someone else to tell them how to act, what to do, someone else to tell them how to live.  The only problem is, they picked the wrong king.  They picked Herod instead of God.  We don’t need to pick Herod, but as long as we fail to choose God, it doesn’t matter who controls us.

So Herod does a smart thing.  He calls together the chief priests and the scribes of the people, and finds out exactly where the new king is going to be born.  He knows where to go – find the people who know the scriptures – the chief priests – the professional clergy are supposed to be paid to know these things.  Herod does not go to the Temple or to the Scriptures to get closer to God; he goes for his own purposes.  He wants information for his own purposes.  He wants the Temple and the Scriptures to serve his own ends, not God’s purposes.  If we approach the Temple (the Church) and the Scriptures in the spirit of Herod; we will have missed the point.  Both the Church and the Scriptures are God’s, and are intended to serve his good purposes.

So the chief priests and the scribes read the scriptures – they know the Scriptures well – it does not take long before they give Herod the answer to his question.  The new King will be born in Bethlehem.  But chief priests do not themselves have any personal interest in going to see the new King.  Amazing.  They had all the information from God right in front of them, and they don’t bother to do anything with it.  Maybe Herod did not tell them that the wise men had come.  But no matter, they were blind to the presence of the star, which the wise men had followed all the way from the east, and they are blind to the importance of their own scriptures.  At any rate, they were too busy playing church to actually take the time to find God.  They have no love for the object of which the scriptures speak.  They know the King will be found in Bethlehem, yet they do not bother to go.

So how does the story proceed?  Herod calls the wise men secretly.  That alone is a warning sign.  Why secretly?  He sends them on their way with a bit of a false promise.  Go and find the child, and then let me know so that I may do him homage as well.  As the wise men head out – there ahead of them is the star – it’s still there, but no one is paying any attention.  God gives us signs, but often we are blind to their presence.  Herod is looking at his throne, the scribes are looking at their scriptures, the people are all looking at Herod, and only the wise men still recognize that the star is still there.

The wise men do what the others do not – they actually make the effort to get to where Jesus is.

2:9 When they had heard the king, they set out; and there, ahead of them, went the star that they had seen at its rising, until it stopped over the place where the child was. 2:10 When they saw that the star had stopped, they were overwhelmed with joy. 2:11 On entering the house, they saw the child with Mary his mother; and they knelt down and paid him homage. Then, opening their treasure chests, they offered him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. 2:12 And having been warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they left for their own country by another road.

So the magi have finally found Jesus.  And what is their response?  Their first response is joy – “they were overwhelmed with joy”.  That is what happens when we find Jesus.  That is what awaits us at the end of the journey.  Next, they paid him homage – they worshiped him and acknowledged Him as King.  After the joy comes the worship.  That means acknowledging Jesus as King.  Jesus as the center.  Jesus as Lord.  And then, after joy and after worship, comes offering of their gifts.  In response to who Jesus is and the joy He gives, we offer ourselves and our gifts to Him.

So how do you find Jesus?  Maybe we all can start out like the magi – with a general idea of God, and a general idea that He is guiding you.  Like the magi, we need to turn to the scriptures.  If you don’t read them, you will never really get the specific directions that God is trying to give you.  Approach them with the right spirit, the right purpose.  Ask for help along the way - the church is meant to be that way.  The wise men knew when they needed to ask someone else for help.  And pray.  Ask God.  When you find Jesus, rejoice.  After all, He is God.  Put Him in the center.  Ask yourself whether what you are doing honors him a King.  Offer to him what you have, who you are.

The way forward for any of us is an Epiphany story.  It is about us paying attention to the signs of God around us:  the visions, the dreams, the stars and the Scriptures.  It will be a pilgrim story:  it took the magi up to two years to find the destination they were looking for.  Patience in God’s work is not always appreciated in our instant world.  But we trust that for us as a people, we will find our joy as we worship him, and offer ourselves to our King.

sermon notes: Harvest Thanksgiving, Luke 17:11-19 (& 2 Tim 2:8-15)

Luke 17:11-19 (& 2 Tim 2:8-15)

The story of the 10 lepers, and only one returns to give thanks.  And perhaps we only return a 10th of what we should to God in thanksgiving.

[11] On the way to Jerusalem Jesus was going through the region between Samaria and Galilee.

So here we have Jesus going on his way from the northern, Jewish area toward Jerusalem, with a pleasant meander through the rather unclean Samaritan area.  Jesus himself is going through a sort of border region, and on his way to Jerusalem, where others will treat him as an outcast and a sinner.  Jerusalem is a place of death (but also, eventually, of resurrection).

[12] As he entered a village, ten lepers approached him. Keeping their distance, [13] they called out, saying, "Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!"

What strikes me most about these verses is the dual posture of both approaching Jesus and yet keeping distance.  On the first level, this is understandable.  Perhaps the lepers are merely keeping up their duty not to get too close to anyone, lest they spread their infection.  They know their place in the order of things. There are no explicit reasons given in the text, although some can reasonably be assumed. They are content just to get within “shouting distance” of Jesus, whom they call “Master”.  As long as he can hear their cry for mercy, that is close enough.

And yet this dual posture strikes me as something which we can all engage in.  Approaching Jesus, and yet keeping our distance at the same time.  Just get close enough to be within “shouting distance” when we need something.  Or perhaps we are so used to our position, feeling ourselves far from him and others, that we dare not get too close.  Whatever the reason, it is a tendency of human hearts to draw close and then withdraw.  Maybe we suffer from a bit of Christophobia – we don’t want to get too close to Jesus.  There is something of this sentiment in Jesus’ plea as he completes his journey to Jerusalem:  "How I long to gather you under my wings, and you would not.”  Jesus is always approachable, but it is we who decide to pull back, lest we encounter the real Jesus, who as Paul says, “was raised from the dead, a descendant of David” – the Messiah.

[14] When he saw them, he said to them, "Go and  show yourselves to the priests." And as they went, they were made clean.

No healing touch or magic words come out of Jesus.  He simply gives them something to do.  The priest was rather like the public health officer of the day:  if the priest said you were cured, then you could be restored to your family, you could be restored to your community.  “As they went, they were made clean” – it is in the journey of obedience to Christ that we are healed.  This is a significant part of this healing story:  there is something about simply obeying Christ which is part of the cure;  they are not healed by a word, an action or a touch:  they are healed as they respond in obedience to Jesus.

[15] Then one of them, when he saw that he was healed, turned back, praising God with a loud voice. [16] He prostrated himself at Jesus' feet and thanked him.

This fellow doesn’t quite follow the rules here:  it appears that he did not makes it to the priest to get his official clean bill of health.  The gift from Jesus evokes in him a more immediate response: praise of God and thanks to Jesus.

And he was a Samaritan.
[17]Then Jesus asked, "Were not ten made clean? But the other nine, where are they?
Was none of them found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner?"
Then he said to him, "Get up and go on your way; your faith has made you well."

It is worth noting that Jesus does not revoke the healing of the other “ungrateful” nine (“if we are faithless, he remains faithful-- for he cannot deny himself”) which tells us something of the nature of God's mercy.  There is certainly a tie in to the epistle on this point.  The Samaritan is now made well, or whole.  The gift of Jesus has cured him, but it is faith that has made him well.

Later we might expand this outward to the greater them of "thanksgiving" throughout Scripture.

sermon notes Pentecost 21 Year A, Matthew 21: 33-46

This week Jesus gives us "another parable", in Matthew 21: 33-46.  Matthew introduces this parable on the heels of the parable of the two sons.  In that parable, we had two sons asked to work, one said yes with his words, but by his actions said no, and the other initially said no but then by his actions said yes.  Do we have a bit of a theme developing in these parables?  In the first parable, a father asks his sons to work, and there are two opposite responses - a contrast between faithfulness and faithlessness in response to the father's request.  In the second parable, we have the landowner asking his tenants to work in his vineyards, and the tenants, by both their words and actions, say "no". 

Matthew 21: 33-46

[33] "Listen to another parable. There was a landowner who planted a vineyard, put a fence around it, dug a wine press in it, and built a watchtower. Then he leased it to tenants and went to another country.  [34] When the harvest time had come, he sent his slaves to the tenants to collect his produce.

A familiar enough image (Isa. 5:1-7);  Israel is God's vineyard.  The scene is being further set for the conflict between Jesus and the religious leaders which will eventually lead to his death.  It is worth noting that Matthew literally uses the word for "fruit" (4 times in this parable), which may evoke different associations than what the NRSV renders as "produce".  When I think "produce", I can't help but think of the mounds of lettuce at the local grocer's.  But that's me.  And since I'm writing this, I'm going to say that the word "fruit" is better, since it resonates more clearly to ears that are at least a bit familiar with the whole of the Scriptural story.

Harvest time might in fact be several years after the planting.  So these tenants had been working for a while.  This might be the first stage of a sharecropper arrangement, or he may have simply hired them on a wage basis to tend his vineyard.  In any event, we see what happens when the landlord is absent.  The tenants are quick to forget what they were initially hired to do, and they are quick to forget whose the vineyard is.  In some ways it reminds me of the whole "death of God" stuff from an era slightly before my own...

[35] But the tenants seized his slaves and beat one, killed another, and stoned another.  [36] Again he sent other slaves, more than the first; and they treated them in the same way.  [37] Finally he sent his son to them, saying, 'They will respect my son.'

This is perhaps one of the more directly allegorical of Jesus' parables:  it has much clearer references than many.  Still, we start with the attitude of the figures in the parable, before assigning them an identity.  The landowner here is remarkably restrained.  Once he has seen the treatment meted out to his slaves, he ventures to send his son.  Now it may just be me, but I would think that the landowner and his son would have had a fair idea of the treatment the son would receive.  But the son is sent nonetheless, as a sort of final appeal to the tenants.

[38] But when the tenants saw the son, they said to themselves, 'This is the heir; come, let us kill him and get his inheritance." [39] So they seized him, threw him out of the vineyard, and killed him. 

There are a few things going on in these lines.  First, we have Jesus' allusion to his own death.  The broader context of the Gospel makes it clear that this is a clear self reference:  Jesus knows that he will be betrayed and killed.  Somehow the tenants think that by getting rid of the son they will be free to do as they please.  And likewise we might sometimes think that by getting rid of the Son we too will be free to do as we please.  But we will not be free.

It is interesting that they recognize him as the son, but refuse to honour him as such.  Is the landowner so absent that they think they can simply inherit the vineyard on their own?  Or are they under some illusion that the landowner, having gone into a far country, will never return?

Do you know anyone who is a functional atheist but a professing Christian?  That is, they say that they believe in Christ, but don't act like they believe in Christ.  Remember the parable which came just before this one?  We can say that we believe in Christ with our words, but then by our actions deny that we are his followers.  Do they believe that by 'killing the son', they have made an end to any other claims on them and their work, and they can simply live our autonomous lives without fear of anything interfering with them?  Jesus of course knows that his audience would expect some sort of "justice" by the end of this story.  They can see what is coming. 

There is a great irony in the tenants' claim that they will have no fear of the son once he has been killed.  That is perhaps the greatest irony in the whole parable; for of course the Son is killed but rises again.

[40] Now when the owner of the vineyard comes, what will he do to those tenants?"  [41] They said to him, "He will put those wretches to a miserable death, and lease the vineyard to other tenants who will give him the produce at the harvest time."

Jesus' hearers have enough sense of justice to realize what the 'correct' answer to his question is.  What they lack, however, is the willingness to submit to the Son, to act in the best interests of the Landowner, and to remember that the vineyard is not theirs, but God's.

[42] Jesus said to them, "Have you never read in the scriptures: 'The stone that the builders rejected has become the cornerstone; this was the Lord's doing, and it is amazing in our eyes'?  [43] Therefore I tell you, the kingdom of God will be taken away from you and given to a people that produces the fruits of the kingdom.  [44] The one who falls on this stone will be broken to pieces; and it will crush anyone on whom it falls."  [45] When the chief priests and the Pharisees heard his parables, they realized that he was speaking about them.  [46] They wanted to arrest him, but they feared the crowds, because they regarded him as a prophet.

That's all for now;  we'll pick it up again tomorrow. 

Picked up again.  On another very different note, this passage also speaks to the experience of rejection.  It is something Jesus experienced, something God experienced (and, I might add, continues to on a regular basis), and something which we experience.  Just a thought...

sermon notes Pentecost 18 (Year A): Matthew 18: 21-35

Matthew 18: 21-25

Then Peter came and said to him, “Lord , if another member of the church sins against me, how often should I forgive? As many as 7 times?”  Jesus answered him, “Not 7 times, I tell you , but 77 times.”

For this reason the kingdom of heaven may be compared to a king who wished to settle accounts with his slaves.  When he began the reckoning, one who owed him 10,000 talents was brought to him;  and, as he could not pay, his lord ordered him to be sold; together with his wife and children and all his possessions, and payment to be made.  So the slave fell on his knees before him, saying, “Have patience with me, and I will pay you everything.”  And out of pity for him, the lord of that slave released him and forgave him the debt.  But that same slave, as he went out, came upon one of his fellow slaves who owed him a hundred denarii, and seizing him by the throat, he said “Pay what you owe.”   Then his fellow slave fell down and pleaded with him, “Have patience with me, and I will pay you.”  But he refused; then he went and threw him into prison until he should pay the debt.   When his fellow slaves saw what had happened, they were greatly distressed, and they went and reported  to their lord all that had taken place.   Then his lord summoned him and said to him “You wicked slave, I forgave you all that debt because you pleaded with me.   Should you not have had mercy on your fellow slave, as I had mercy on you?”   And in anger his lord handed him over to be tortured until he should pay his entire debt.    So my heavenly Father will also do to every one of you, if you do not forgive your brother from your heart.

This is part two from last week:  first we had how seriously Jesus takes sin, and now we see how seriously Jesus takes forgiveness.  So I haven't quite figured it all out yet, but it's only Wednesday...

You will remember from last week that this section of the gospel is part of Jesus’ sermon on forgiveness.  Peter wants to know how often we should forgive others.  And he figures that 7 times is about enough,  After that, maybe I am justified if I get fed up and decide, “That's is, I'm going to write you off”  After all, that sounds pretty reasonable.  How much can one person put up with?  Jesus answers him, “Not just seven times, Peter, but 77 times.”  And I believe that Jesus wouldn’t stop there either.  He would keep on forgiving. 

Jesus wants to tell us how important it is for us to forgive others:

Look at the story Jesus tells.  It is a parable.  Like all parables, it is meant to get across a few simple ideas.  It is not meant to be analyzed to death trying to find an exact correspondence  for everything.  It is meant to make us think about something.

The first idea is how much we owe God, and how willing God is to forgive us.  In the story the slave owed his lord a whole lot of money – more than he could ever hope to repay.  In fact, it’s probably true that the lord loaned him all this money knowing that he would never get repaid.  So when it was time for the debt to be paid, what does the lord do?  He forgives the debt entirely.  The lord gives an example to the slave:  I’ve forgiven you everything.  Look at how much you owed me and yet I am going to set you free and you don’t have to pay me a thing. 

God is first and foremost a great forgiver.  That is the example he sets.  If you still think that God is looking for a way to get you, then you don’t really know Him very well.  He is really looking for a way to forgive you, not to condemn you.

It is said that we learn by example, but this is not often the case when it comes to God.  What does the slave do next?  Instead of taking his lead from his lord, he goes out and finds some other slave who owes him a little bit.  What does he do?  Instead of following his lord’s example, he decides that he is going to get payment from his fellow slave.  It’s like having someone write off your 100, 000 dollar mortgage and then you decide that you are going to sue your neighbour for the 25 cents he borrowed for the pay phone last year.

This points out the second idea in this parable.  Our tendency is to apply one standard to ourselves, and another standard to everyone else.  I deserve special treatment, but you sure don’t.  I might not say that like the ungrateful slave did, but I sure will act that way.  I’m sure glad when they catch speeders going through my neighbourhood where my kids play, but if I’m trying to get through traffic on my way home, I’ll gladly speed through your neighbourhood.  Somebody should pick up the slack when it comes to paying the bills for the church, but well, our family budget is really tight this month and we need a few things fixed up.  When I yell it’s because I was really tired and stressed and you should understand all that and make me feel better right away, but how dare you have a bad day and expect me to be kind and helpful and considerate to you and patient with you when you lose it.  It happens all the time, in big ways and in small ways.    One standard for me, and another one for you.  I’m allowed to mess up, but you’re not.

This leads us to the third idea

We choose how God will treat us.  You see, we sometimes think that God just sits up there.    God gives us the choice:  how do you want me to treat you? And our choice is made by our actions towards others.  How do you want God to treat you?  Show Him by example.  Show Him by the way you treat others.   What attitude do you want God to have toward you?  Let Him know by your attitude towards others.  The ungrateful slave learned this lesson.   It’s a rather frightening thought – Jesus is suggesting here that it is within our power to determine/ contribute to how God is going to treat us. 

sermon notes Pentecost 17: Matthew 18: 15-20

Pentecost 17, Year A

Matthew 18:15-20

If another member of the church sins against you, go and point out the fault when the two of you are alone. If the member listens to you, you have regained that one.

But if you are not listened to, take one or two others along with you, so that every word may be confirmed by the evidence of two or three witnesses.

If the member refuses to listen to them, tell it to the church; and if the offender refuses to listen even to the church, let such a one be to you as a Gentile and a tax collector.

Truly I tell you, whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven.  Again, truly I tell you, if two of you agree on earth about anything you ask, it will be done for you by my Father in heaven.  For where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there among them.

The first thing to note is that this passage is really of one piece with next week's reading.  There Peter will ask Jesus how many times a person must exercise forgiveness.  And so together they form a short discourse on sin and forgiveness.  But divided up as they are for the lectionary reading, one might say that this week's reading talks about the seriousness of sin, while next week concentrates on the seriousness of forgiveness.

If another member of the church sins against you, go and point out the fault when the two of you are alone. If the member listens to you, you have regained that one.

I think one of the great mistakes made in reading this section is to think of it in terms of the modern notion of "conflict management".  Many look at this passage and say that it is an example of Jesus giving his disciples (or Matthew giving his community) some guidelines on how to deal with conflict in the church.  I am going to suggest that it is not about conflict.  At least not in the sense in which we often use that word.

There can be various causes of conflict in any organization, including the church.  Conflict can arise when there are two equally valid points of view on a particular matter.  Or it can arise when there are two apparently equally valid course of action to be pursued.  We might have conflict over whether to use this music or that music, or to use this style or that style, when both options may be perfectly reasonable.  "Conflict management" can come into play when there is no underlying fault, no underlying sin.  Jesus is not talking about managing conflict;  he is talking about dealing with sin.  And those are two different things.  Jesus is talking about a situation where a member of the church sins against you.  Indeed there may be no conflict whatsover;  you might in fact choose to turn the other cheek.

However, this passage shows us that Jesus takes two things in consideration:  the presence of sin in the church, and the seriousness of how to deal with it.  Those who have been reading along with my study in Cyprian have already seen that the early church dealt with this same problem:  what do we do when members of the church have obviously fallen in sin?  Jesus does not seem to assume that the members of the church will be free from sin, nor does he assume that we will immediately know how to deal with such situations.  I think it wise to see this passage in light of Jesus' entire ministry of reconciliation:  Jesus takes both sin and forgiveness (reconciliation) seriously.  It might be said that we contribute the first part, and Jesus contributes the second part.

So what do you do when a member of the church sins against you?  Why not simply turn the other cheek and suffer in silence?  Why confront such a sin in a fellow member of the church?  Because sin harms the one who commits it.  If I sin against you, I may or may not actually be harming you, but I am certainly harming myself.  And so the loving thing for you to do would be to come to me and confront me with the behavior which harms me - even if I am the author of that behavior.  What parent would not confront a child who is about to do something which knowingly or unknowingly, will result in harm to that child?  So we come to a practice which might seem odd to modern ears:  sometimes love means confronting sin.

Jesus is not interested in public humiliation;  he is interested in reconciliation.  And so the first step is private.  Speak privately, not publicly.  What does this mean?  It means first off all that we don’t start off complaining to our friends or family or neighbours about so and so.  There may be more wisdom in this than we imagine:  perhaps when we come to the person whom we need to speak to, we find that we ourselves are mistaken about the sin.  Perhaps I thought John took my wallet, but upon speaking with John in private I somehow discover that it was actually Peter.  A private encounter can prevent a lot of public embarrassment. [Those who are partial to the ancient shame/honour codes can see how this angle fits into the process Jesus describes].

But if you are not listened to, take one or two others along with you, so that every word may be confirmed by the evidence of two or three witnesses.

Now who are the two or three others?  This is not about taking your friends to whom you have already complained about John.  Yet Jesus is firm:  there is a next step.  And why?  Because there are many instances in which a person’s fault, a person’s sin, is not simply a private affair.  Most, if not all types of sin, have an effect.  Like the outward ripple of a wave after a stone has been thrown into still water, so is the effect of sin in the life of a community.  Just as the sin moves outward, so the circle attempting reconciliation grows larger.  There may also be sdome further wisdom that in going to the 2 or 3 others, I will discover that perhaps I am mistaken about my accusation.  Or, the one who has committed the offense may simply reply in private that "It's just my opinion."  And so having a few others who are (we hope) trusted and respected by both parties might help the offender to see the truth of the situation.

If the member refuses to listen to them, tell it to the church; and if the offender refuses to listen even to the church, let such a one be to you as a Gentile and a tax collector.

Some years ago in the Anglican Church of Canada there were people who abused children in the residential schools.  Would things have been different in the lives of many people if such a sin was dealt with in a different manner?  Was anything covered up, hushed up and hidden?  It’s hard to say, but one thing might be certain:  Jesus' guidelines for dealing with sin do not seem to have been followed.

And so Jesus tells them that if the person will not listen to the two or three, then the whole community must be informed.  Why is this?  Well, we might be persuaded that we are in the right if we are confronted by just one.  And we might even be persuaded that we are in the right when we are confronted with two or three.  But then the case can be evaluated by the community as a whole:  in that process there might be some further wisdom.  Also, the sin might be of such seriousness that it requires the whole community to know about it.  And of such seriousness that the community cannot tolerate it continuing.

Truly I tell you, whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven.

Again, truly I tell you, if two of you agree on earth about anything you ask, it will be done for you by my Father in heaven.  For where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there among them.

A few of these verses have echoes in other passages.  We have already heard something of the binding and loosing themes.  We see that things on earth are in fact connected with things in heaven.  Or perhaps it is better to phrase it the other way around.  In any event, I have seen these kinds of sayings taken out of context more than once.  Jesus is telling us about the business of being reconciled, about the serious matter of sin, and the ways in which forgiveness is extended, and fellowship restored.  It is in those situations when we are to ask as the church (two or more) for the gift of reconciliation and restoration.  In particular, when we gather for the purpose of reconciliation, Jesus is there among us.

sermon notes Pentecost 16; Matthew 16: 21-28

From that time on, Jesus began to show his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem and undergo great suffering at the hands of the elders and chief priests and scribes, and be killed, and on the third day be raised.

And Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him, saying, "God forbid it, Lord! This must never happen to you."

But he turned and said to Peter, "Get behind me, Satan! You are a stumbling block to me; for you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things."

Then Jesus told his disciples, "If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.  For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.  For what will it profit them if they gain the whole world but forfeit their life? Or what will they give in return for their life?

"For the Son of Man is to come with his angels in the glory of his Father, and then he will repay everyone for what has been done.  Truly I tell you, there are some standing here who will not taste death before they see the Son of Man coming in his kingdom."

Last week we had "Peter's confession" that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of the living God.  Remember that reading ended with Jesus sternly warning his disciples not to tell anyone that he was the Messiah.  Well, Peter's subsequent comments might give us a bit of insight into that.  We may not know exactly what kind of Messiah Peter thought that Jesus should be, but we clearly see what kind of Messaih Peter thought Jesus should not be.

Jesus lays out before the disciples the basics of Messiahship;  Jesus must 

go to Jerusalem and undergo great suffering at the hands of the elders and chief priests and scribes, and be killed, and on the third day be raised.

That's Messiahship 101, but Peter will have none of it. [side note:  if you haven't read any of Rene Girard's works, they are really fasicnating on the whole suffering/violence theme]  I suspect (though I cannot of course prove) that Peter really did not understand what Jesus was talking about.  More than that, I suspect that Peter (like many who look at the suffering Christ) heard only the first part of what Jesus was saying.  Jesus' description of what must happen in Jerusalem seems to focus only on his suffering and death.  And perhaps Peter had some selective hearing - he either did not hear or did not understand what Jesus ended with:  "be raised on the third day".  And note that the passage ends with a description of Christ coming in his glory and a reference again to "life".  But initially, Peter will have none of it:

And Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him, saying, "God forbid it, Lord! This must never happen to you."

Gotta give Peter credit for looking out for Jesus' best interests.  The only problem is, Jesus wasn't looking out for his own best interest - he was looking out for ours.  There are several routes one can take with this rebuke from Peter to Jesus.  Perhaps Peter's idea of Messiahship was nationalistic or idealistic.  These things don't happen to Messiahs, so these things can't happen to Jesus.  Or Peter had no idea why such things should happen.  Or Peter had no inkling of what Jesus was opening up for humanity in being "raised on the third day."  At any rate, It is not just Peter's problem;  all of us tend to fashion our favourite kind of Messiah out of Jesus.  And then we tend to ignore or dismiss the bits of Jesus which don't fit into our idea of what Messiahship should be.

But he turned and said to Peter, "Get behind me, Satan! You are a stumbling block to me; for you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things."

Or, as the prophet wrote, "My ways are not your ways, nor are my thoughts your thoughts".  It is at this point that one is confronted with the choice of humility.  Can I believe such a thing?  It is the essence of the old joke:  God made man in His own image, and we've been trying to return the favour ever since.  There is much more to work out here, but how do I set my mind on divine things, instead of on human things?  What does this look like?

Then Jesus told his disciples, "If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.  For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.  For what will it profit them if they gain the whole world but forfeit their life? Or what will they give in return for their life?

I suppose it is the greatest counter-intuitive thing to proclaim that the road to resurrection must go by the way of the Cross, and that we must lose our lives to save them, and that we are called to take up our cross and follow Jesus on the way of sacrifice and suffering.  If I had any further wisdom on this, I would add it here.  But I don't, really.

A fellow blogger recalls saying from his dad.  People treat Christianity like they treat vaccines.  They inject themselves with a little bit of it in order to prevent themselves from getting the real thing.

"For the Son of Man is to come with his angels in the glory of his Father, and then he will repay everyone for what has been done.  Truly I tell you, there are some standing here who will not taste death before they see the Son of Man coming in his kingdom."

The passage ends not with death and suffering, but with glory and life.  That's the pattern of Jesus' Messiahship.  That's all for now.

sermon notes Pentecost 15: Matthew 16: 13-20

[notes for Pent 16;  Matt 16: 21-28 are here]

Now when Jesus came into the district of Caesarea Philippi, he asked his disciples, "Who do people say that the Son of Man is?" And they said, "Some say John the Baptist, but others Elijah, and still others Jeremiah or one of the prophets."  He said to them, "But who do you say that I am?"
Simon Peter answered, "You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God."

And Jesus answered him, "Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah! For flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my Father in heaven.
And I tell you, you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will not prevail against it.  I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven, and whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven."

Then he sternly ordered the disciples not to tell anyone that he was the Messiah.

Caesarea Philippi was located about 30 kms north of the Sea of Galilee in what is now the Golan Heights.  It has an interesting religious history:  used as a cultic center for Baal worship in Canaanite times, then it was part of the Panion (you might see it called Paneas) during Hellenistic times.  The reference is to the god Pan.  Herod the Great built a temple to his patron Emperor Augustus there, and then Philip the Tetrarch dedicated it also to the Emperor Tiberius, and decided to lend his own name to the town as well.  Hence Caesarea Philippi.  Just to add to the charm of the place, Josephus (Jewish War 3.9.7.) tells us that Vespasian had a few gladiatorial games with Jewish victims there after the fall of Jerusalem.

An interesting place in which to pose the question: "Who do you say that I am?"  Now it is also worth considering that Jesus does not directly jump to this question.  Instead, he asks what the people say about him.  And in giving their various answers, the disciples show that they are at least a bit conversant with popular opinion "out there".  It is an approach worth considering - rather than jumping straight to the second question, do we need to become conversant with what the culture says about the Son of Man?  The stereotype of evangelism is to jump to a direct question, rather than take the slightly roundabout route that Jesus takes to get there.

“Some say John the Baptist, but others Elijah, and still others Jeremiah or one of the prophets.”

Now who are these people and why do the people think that Jesus is one of these characters?

John the Baptist was very austere – living in the wilderness on locusts and wild honey, dressed up so that he would stand out from the crowd.  If you read the accounts of John the Baptist in the gospels you’ll see that his main ministry was calling people to repent of their sins.  In fact, sometimes he was pretty harsh – he called the Pharisees a brood of vipers – a nest of snakes.  So perhaps people saw in Jesus the continuation of the tradition of John the Baptist.

But Jesus is not John the Baptist.  He’s more than John the Baptist.  John's baptism of repentance is fulfilled in Jesus' authority to forgive.  And John's ministry of preparation is fulfilled in the arrival of the Lamb of God.  Jesus was surely like John in the call to repentance, but Jesus also delivers something which John could not:  divine forgiveness and absolution.

Next, some people say that Jesus is Elijah. In Jewish tradition, Elijah was the greatest prophet and miracle worker of the Old Testament.  When Elijah prayed, God listened.  Elijah could do anything:  he could cure the sick, he could raise the dead, he could make food miraculously multiply, he could control the weather, he could control the outcome of battles and armies and wars.  He was the greatest miracle worker that ever lived.  He could solve the problems of people, cities, even kingdoms with his miracles.

But Jesus is not Elijah.  One of the small things we forget when we see the various miracles is that the miracle does not solve the problem, it merely postpones it.  Consider Elijah's miracles around death.  'Nuff said.  The problem was postponed, not solved. And like John the Baptist, Elijah had a preparatory role (as seen elsewhere when Jesus replies that 'Elijah must come first').  But Jesus is more than Elijah;  Jesus is not preparatory - he is the event.

Next, others say that he is Jeremiah or one of the prophets.  Now who is Jeremiah?  There are two main writings in the Old Testament about Jeremiah.  The first is the book of Jeremiah, and the second is called the Lamentations of Jeremiah.  The lamentations of Jeremiah are just that – a collection of laments. Songs and stories of woe;  unhappiness at how badly things are going for us.  Jeremiah was the best at saying – “Look God, things are just terrible, life is hard and all my enemies are beating up Israel, and things just aren’t fair and won’t you do something about it?" Okay, that might be a very loose translation, but you get the picture.

The prophets were also known for their zeal in calling Israel back to Yahweh from worship of other gods, for their zeal in defending the cause of justice and their condemnation of those who offended God through injustice and oppression.  Perhaps by this time Jesus had a reputation in this area.  But Jesus is not Jeremiah or one of the prophets.

He said to them, "But who do you say that I am?"
Simon Peter answered, "You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God."

And Jesus answered him, "Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah! For flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my Father in heaven.

For now I want to focus on that little word "revealed".  Here, I think, is the crux of the matter.  Knowing Jesus is not something we achieve by our own cleverness, but it is something revealed.  Many can and have argued over just what is meant by the phrase "Messiah, the Son of the living God."  But I sense that there comes a point when argument will not gain anything - there must be revelation - the divine work of  God breaking in on our notions of Jesus as wise man, prophet, miracle worker, whatever - - and then we come to know Him as the Son of the Living God. 

More on this later, and for the sake of Roman Catholic dialogue, I'll skip over the whole Peter thing.  An interesting early discussion of these verses can be found in Cyprian's Unity of the Church (ch 4).  Pelikan (The Emergence of the Catholic Tradition, 159, 250) has some good summaries of the interpretation of these verses in the early church. 

Then he sternly ordered the disciples not to tell anyone that he was the Messiah.

Let me just half lightly say that this is the one command of Jesus that many Christians are only all too happy to keep. 

 

Thoughts on the Feast of the Transfiguration

Today is the Feast of the Transfiguration.  It is a feast which is, I have read, more widely celebrated in the Eastern churches than in the West.

Now about eight days after these sayings Jesus took with him Peter and John and James, and went up on the mountain to pray. And while he was praying, the appearance of his face changed, and his clothes became dazzling white.  Suddenly they saw two men, Moses and Elijah, talking to him. They appeared in glory and were speaking of his departure, which he was about to accomplish at Jerusalem.

Now Peter and his companions were weighed down with sleep; but since they had stayed awake, they saw his glory and the two men who stood with him. Just as they were leaving him, Peter said to Jesus, "Master, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah" -- not knowing what he said.

While he was saying this, a cloud came and overshadowed them; and they were terrified as they entered the cloud.  Then from the cloud came a voice that said, "This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!"  When the voice had spoken, Jesus was found alone. And they kept silent and in those days told no one any of the things they had seen.  (Luke)

The Feast of the Transfiguration is a wonderful thing.  Moses and Elijah (the law and the prophets) bearing witness to Jesus.  Transfiguration taking place in the context of prayer (he went up to the mountain to pray).  Seeing Jesus for who He really is.  Each of the Gospels which record the event has a slightly different detail added here or there.

There are two significant mountains in Scripture where God speaks.  In the southern part of the Sinai penninsula rises a mountain which has been known to the local Bedouin tribe for centuries as “Jebel Musa” – the mountain of Moses.  The landscape, like all of the Sinai, is harsh.  Ancient red granite rock greets the visitor to Sinai.  What is not rock is sand, and what is not sand is dust.  There are 2 main paths up to top. There is the main route which is used by the Bedouin, a series of switchbacks wide enough for a camel to walk upon.  There is another, rather less trodden path – it is comprised of hundreds of steps carved into the rock by monks many centuries ago.  The second path is appropriately named “The steps of repentance”.  It was designed as a form of penance for the monks of the Monastery of St Catherine, which has been part of the mountain for almost 1700 years.

When you finally get to the top of Sinai, there is a spectacular view of the desert landscape for miles around. It is a jagged and rough place – a fitting spot for human beings to experience the majesty and, yes, even the terror of coming into the presence of God.  It is the mountain of the giving of the Law – the commands which Moses gave to the people of Israel. 

9 KM west of Nazareth rises another mountain – Mount Tabor. It commands a view of fertile valleys, the villages around the sea of Galilee, and it’s slopes are covered with lush greenery and gardens.  It is the traditional site of the Transfiguration.  There is only one route up to the summit:  and though it is steep it is worth the climb.  As opposed to camel, you can take a Mercedes Benz stretch limo for about 30 shekels.  By the way, like the camel handlers in the Sinai, the taxi drivers are also Bedouin tribesmen.  When you get to the top you see the variety of greenery – Mount Tabor receives that rare commodity – “rain”.  Just as God spoke one set of words on the top of Mount Sinai, so he also spoke another set of words on the top of Mount Tabor.

If Sinai is the mountain of the Law, then let us think of Tabor – the mount of Transfiguration - as the mountain of grace.  Law can only restrain us – but grace transfigures us.  We are invited in the Transfiguration into a new vision of God in the person of Jesus Christ.  Perhaps you are still living on Mount Sinai – thinking that faith is only about following the laws – seeing God merely as the one who rewards or punishes.  Or you are thinking that keeping yourself “good” in God’s eyes is impossible. 

And maybe like Peter our first reaction to being invited into a new vision of God in Jesus is to turn our attention elsewhere. Then Peter said to Jesus, "Lord, it is good for us to be here; if you wish, I will make three dwellings here, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah."  Peter represents here an all too common experience in the 'church'.  When God is doing something spiritual, we turn our attention elsewhere.  In this case it seems that Peter thinks what is required is a building project, as if walls and wood could contain God.

It doesn't of course have to be a building project, but when God in Jesus makes his presence known, that is what we should pay attention to.  If God is at work, don't get bogged down in other things.  We can be like Peter when we spend our time and energy only on the "externals" - the mere trappings of church - and then we can miss out on the presence of Jesus in our midst.  Or we get so caught up in the institution of 'church' that we can't see the Kingdom of God.

While he was still speaking, suddenly a bright cloud overshadowed them, and from the cloud a voice said, "This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him!"

When the disciples heard this, they fell to the ground and were overcome by fear.  But Jesus came and touched them, saying, "Get up and do not be afraid."

The voice is like that which was heard at Jesus’ baptism.  Only this time there is an addition:  “Listen to Him.”  But when the disciples hear this voice, they are afraid. And so are we.  Because this also promises us something wonderful and terrifying at the same time.  God calls us to be, well, not exactly transfigured, but rather transformed.  He calls us to be his beloved, and he calls us to "share" in the transfiguration of Jesus.  And that means change. God invites us to take a look at ourselves and see where we need to change: a habit, an action, an attitude.  We are often afraid of change – but the change which God has in mind is to make us more fully into the beloved children he has called us to be.  He calls us to be “Christ-like”.  As we learn to see Jesus, we begin to see who God calls us to be.

Biblical Studies blog carnival

The XXXII Biblical Studies blog carnival is up at Ancient Hebrew Poetry.  It is divided into 3 parts:  Part 1 deals with primary texts and discoveries; Part 2: with controversies; and Part 3 with posts on individual texts.

Thanks to Tyler Williams (Codex) for keeping us informed.  The carnival features posts by a variety of bloggers, and I have always found something in these carnivals which is informative and edifying.

Do you believe in miracles?

I was standing in front of the elevator doors this afternoon, when someone came up to me and told me about a miracle they had experienced.
"Father?" (sorry, I was wearing clericals, as I often do when hospital visiting)
Yes?
"Let me tell you about a miracle that happened to me 15 years ago - how God healed me."

The conversation went on and I listened to this person's story.  It was (if true) a miracle story.  But why should I doubt that it is true?  I came away thinking it was, mainly because it seemed to be within the nature of God to have done such a thing.

Now the reason I am telling you all this is that I was going to post my general weekly sermon notes.  This week we are looking at the story of Jacob wrestling at the Jabbok (Genesis 32:22-31) and the story of Jesus feeding the crowd in Matthew 14:13-21.  Both of these stories involve the presence of God and the action of God in a rather more-than-ordinary way.  I'll probably get around to posting those general sermon notes in a day or two, but what struck me as I was thinking about this encounter is the general question:  do you believe in miracles?

Some people do, some don't, and some are not sure about the whole thing.  In particular, within the church I have run across people who don't think that the Gospels truly report what we might call "physical" miracles - the action of God in an unmistakable fashion to accomplish that which is, from a purely human perspective and power, impossible.

While there are many approaches to this, I want just briefly to mention just one.  We have forgotten all that philosophy has taught us in the past about what, well, what a God is.

sermon notes for Pentecost 10, Matthew 13:24-30, 36-43

rough notes:

July 20 2008 Sermon Notes:

Matthew 13:24-30, 36-43
He put before them another parable: "The kingdom of heaven may be compared to someone who sowed good seed in his field; but while everybody was asleep, an enemy came and sowed weeds among the wheat, and then went away. So when the plants came up and bore grain, then the weeds appeared as well.  And the slaves of the householder came and said to him, 'Master, did you not sow good seed in your field? Where, then, did these weeds come from?'  He answered, 'An enemy has done this.' The slaves said to him, 'Then do you want us to go and gather them?'  But he replied, 'No; for in gathering the weeds you would uproot the wheat along with them.  Let both of them grow together until the harvest; and at harvest time I will tell the reapers, Collect the weeds first and bind them in bundles to be burned, but gather the wheat into my barn.'"

Then he left the crowds and went into the house. And his disciples approached him, saying, "Explain to us the parable of the weeds of the field."  He answered, "The one who sows the good seed is the Son of Man;  the field is the world, and the good seed are the children of the kingdom; the weeds are the children of the evil one,  and the enemy who sowed them is the devil; the harvest is the end of the age, and the reapers are angels.  Just as the weeds are collected and burned up with fire, so will it be at the end of the age.  The Son of Man will send his angels, and they will collect out of his kingdom all causes of sin and all evildoers, and they will throw them into the furnace of fire, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.  Then the righteous will shine like the sun in the kingdom of their Father. Let anyone with ears listen!

This week Jesus wraps ups his parables about the seeds, the sowers and the harvest.  In this passage we hear Jesus talk about some rather difficult things.  We have a  farmer who sowed good seed only to have an enemy come and sow bad seeds in among the crop.

Then we have the problem of what to do with the weeds – should they be ripped up or allowed to grow?  And then we have the separation of the harvest:  there is the separation of the wheat from the weeds, of the good harvest from the bad.  And then the imagery Jesus uses is one of stark contrast: 

The Son of Man will send his angels, and they will collect out of his kingdom all causes of sin and all evildoers, 42 and they will throw them into the furnace of fire, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.
Then the righteous will shine like the sun in the kingdom of their Father. Let anyone with ears listen!

How do we begin to understand what Jesus is getting at?  At the root of this parable is the fact that God takes seriously the difference between good and evil, and therefore, so should we.  This is what the parable is getting at.  Jesus makes known in this parable something that we already know:  that both good actions and bad actions have consequences.

Let’s look at the first part of the parable:  The farmer sows good seed in his field.  God’s intentions for us are good.  But then, Jesus says, an enemy came and sowed bad seed in the field.  And then the good and the bad grow up together.  Now we can take this parable on two levels.   The first level is that there has always been, and will continue to be, a mix of both people who prefer good, and people who prefer evil.  If you doubt that this is true, just spend some time reading newspapers, or history.  Our world has its “Mother Teresa’s” and it has its “Robert Mugabe’s”.  Those are perhaps most obvious kinds of examples.  But the same is true of every kind of community:  there is conflict between good and evil, with people and organizations choosing one or another.

And that brings us to another point which needs to be remembered when we hear the parables:  Jesus consistently tells his followers that good and evil are not somehow forced upon us, rather we make choices one way or another.  The separation of the weeds from the rest of the crop is not an arbitrary decision on the part of the farmer.  Rather, God tells us that we can choose to be with Him, or we can choose not to be with Him.  That is the consistent message of the stories of Scripture and of Jesus in the Gospels:  God never decides to leave us, but we are free to leave God, and if we choose to leave Him, He will not force us to stay.  But if we do choose God, as Jesus said  “Then the righteous will shine like the sun in the kingdom of their Father. Let anyone with ears listen!” 

An often overlooked part of this parable is that the farmer allows the weeds and the crop to grow up together, and does not instruct his servants to immediately go out and pull out the weeds.  The farmer is not too hasty to dish out judgment, and so neither should we.  Sometimes Christians can be a bit to focused on “rooting out evil persons”, where God would rather have us show patience and mercy. 

On another level, the weeds and the good crop is a parable of our own hearts.  We can see in our own lives both good actions and bad actions;  both wise choices and unwise choices; both weeds and wheat.  So how do the words of Jesus, this parable of the difference between good and evil, play out in our own lives?  Jesus gives us an invitation to examine our own hearts.  We all have times when we have chosen to follow God, to make a choice for good, and we have, in the long run, seen the good consequences – either in our own lives in the lives of those we have helped.   And we can all look back to times when we have made unwise choices, when we have chosen the thing which is not good.  Are we willing to allow him to uproot in us that which is not of God?