Sermons
December 13 2015
Luke 1:26-38
26 In the sixth month the angel Gabriel was sent by God to a town in Galilee called Nazareth, 27 to a virgin engaged to a man whose name was Joseph, of the house of David. The virgin’s name was Mary. 28 And he came to her and said, “Greetings, favored one! The Lord is with you.”[a] 29 But she was much perplexed by his words and pondered what sort of greeting this might be. 30 The angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. 31 And now, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you will name him Jesus. 32 He will be great, and will be called the Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give to him the throne of his ancestor David. 33 He will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end.” 34 Mary said to the angel, “How can this be, since I am a virgin?”[b] 35 The angel said to her, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you; therefore the child to be born[c] will be holy; he will be called Son of God. 36 And now, your relative Elizabeth in her old age has also conceived a son; and this is the sixth month for her who was said to be barren. 37 For nothing will be impossible with God.” 38 Then Mary said, “Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word.” Then the angel departed from her.
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, oh God, our rock and our redeemer. Amen.
Back in college, exams were the bane of our existence. You know that dream of showing up naked for class? Pretty sure that was my Latin 301 class. The language exams were always times of terror. For other classes, though, like Sociology, whipping out a blue book and my blue fountain pen was kind of fun. My favorite questions were always the compare and contrast.
For example, compare and contrast Greek and Hebrew. Both biblical languages. No one else in my cohort at seminary studied them. (Danny did suffer through a semester of Hebrew with me. Then he quit. Smart guy.) While all my classmates were taking social justice classes, I was sneaking off to study Greek and Hebrew with the Catholics and Presbyterians. Contrasts: I had 3 years of Hebrew and six of Greek. Greek, like Latin, is inflected, that is, the ending of the word tells you how it fits into the sentence. Hebrew is more like English, depending on word order to determine meaning. Usually. Sort of. Hebrew is a sort of linguistic free for all. Greek is like swimming; Hebrew is like drowning.
Or compare and contrast the Giants and the Packers. Obviously, one team plays baseball, the other football. The Packers I have loved since birth, while the Giants I have adopted. The biggest thing they have in common, though, is that they are so full of promise at the beginning of the season but they will Break. Your. Heart. Oy.
Maybe you’ve figured it out already, but today we will compare and contrast this week’s story with last week’s. Both stories announce a miraculous birth. Both include Gabriel, although he seems a bit mellower with Mary. Both stories include a sign, although Zechariah’s was more of a smiting. In fact, my commentary list nine properties the stories have in common, including the don’t fear, question by the human, right down to the angel’s departure.
So, these are essentially the same story, yeah? Except for the person to whom Gabriel appears. Well, not really. The same commentary goes on to list eight differences. This from John Nolland in Word Biblical Commentary:
Another huge difference is their questions. Z asks how will I know. Mary asks how can this be. Z wants some evidence. Mary, new to this adult role but knowing enough about the birds and bees, realizes that there is something missing from the equation. Gabriel fills in the missing bit for her, then gives her, unasked for, a sign: the very thing that Z couldn’t believe, E having a baby.
That’s one compare and contrast. Here’s a completely other thought for you. What if this is not so much an announcement as call? When we look at prophetic call stories in the Hebrew scriptures, such as Moses or Gideon, we also see many parallels. Moses and the burning bush is two chapters, though, so let’s look at Gideon in Judges 6:11-23.
This breakdown was from The Voice of the Christian Resource Institute. They saw OT call stories mostly had these five elements in common:
11 Now the angel of the Lord came and sat under the oak at Ophrah, which belonged to Joash the Abiezrite, as his son Gideon was beating out wheat in the wine press, to hide it from the Midianites. 12 The angel of the Lord appeared to him and said to him, “The Lord is with you, you mighty warrior.” 13 Gideon answered him, “But sir, if the Lord is with us, why then has all this happened to us? And where are all his wonderful deeds that our ancestors recounted to us, saying, ‘Did not the Lord bring us up from Egypt?’ But now the Lord has cast us off, and given us into the hand of Midian.”
14 Then the Lord turned to him and said, “Go in this might of yours and deliver Israel from the hand of Midian; I hereby commission you.”
15 He responded, “But sir, how can I deliver Israel? My clan is the weakest in Manasseh, and I am the least in my family.”
16 The Lord said to him, “But I will be with you, and you shall strike down the Midianites, every one of them.”
17 Then he said to him, “If now I have found favor with you, then show me a sign that it is you who speak with me. 18 Do not depart from here until I come to you, and bring out my present, and set it before you.” And he said, “I will stay until you return.” 19 So Gideon went into his house and prepared a kid, and unleavened cakes from an ephah of flour; the meat he put in a basket, and the broth he put in a pot, and brought them to him under the oak and presented them. 20 The angel of God said to him, “Take the meat and the unleavened cakes, and put them on this rock, and pour out the broth.” And he did so. 21 Then the angel of the Lord reached out the tip of the staff that was in his hand, and touched the meat and the unleavened cakes; and fire sprang up from the rock and consumed the meat and the unleavened cakes; and the angel of the Lord vanished from his sight. 22 Then Gideon perceived that it was the angel of the Lord; and Gideon said, “Help me, Lord God! For I have seen the angel of the Lord face to face.” 23 But the Lord said to him, “Peace be to you; do not fear, you shall not die.”
If we look at these same elements in Luke, it looks like this:
Situation of distress for Mary – although not explicitly stated, would be the Roman occupation on the concrete, temporal side, with the condition of humanity on the theological side.
Commissioning – v. 30-33 - 30 The angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. 31 And now, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you will name him Jesus. 32 He will be great, and will be called the Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give to him the throne of his ancestor David. 33 He will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end.”
Objection – 34 - Mary said to the angel, “How can this be, since I am a virgin?”
Assurance of God’s help – 35 - 35 The angel said to her, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you;
Sign – 36 - And now, your relative Elizabeth in her old age has also conceived a son; and this is the sixth month for her who was said to be barren.
All stories end with capitulation, the hero doing what they are called by God to do. With Mary, we get a nice summary in verse 38: Then Mary said, “Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word.”
I never looked at this story that way before, but it seems to make some sense. God has called and used all sorts of people. The fearless leader of my Sunday night bible study, the Rev. Dr. Jo Hudson, put it this way in her sermon to the UCC General Synod in 2013:
Noah was a drunk, Abraham was old, Isaac was a dreamer, Jacob was a liar. Rachel was conniving, Moses couldn’t talk, Gideon was afraid, Sampson was a womanizer, Rahab was a prostitute, Jeremiah was a whiner, David had an affair, Elijah was suicidal, Isaiah preached naked, Jonah ran away, Naomi was a widow, Job lost everything, John the Baptist ate bugs, Peter denied Jesus, the disciples fell asleep, Martha worried about everything, Mary Magdeline was possessed of demons, Zacchaeus was too small, Paul was too religious, Timothy was too young, and Lazarus was dead! Yet God used all of them. Might God use us as well?
Another of my Sunday night buddies, Fred, shared his thoughts: Mary had the reason that she was a virgin for why this plan wouldn’t work. We’ve all got something. What’s your…?
It’s true. When I first felt called to ministry, back in second grade, my dot dot dot was brought to my attention: I was the wrong gender. Then when I got the call again, sitting in church, my dot dot dot was that I was queer, an alcoholic, and had a past. Guess now I should add disabled. Thanks to y’all and thanks to God, none of that matters.
What is God calling you to do? Shelter the homeless? Feed the hungry? Write your senators to end gun violence? (There will be letters at coffee time.) What’s stopping you? What’s slowing you down? What’s your dot dot dot?
Do not be afraid. For nothing will be impossible with God. Hallelujah, and amen.
Hopeful and peace loving God,
It has been another week filled with tears and grief and death. We mourn for those lost to this most recent example of senseless violence. We mourn for all lost violently, around the world.
But more than being mournful, we are angry. We are angry with our elected leaders who, once again this week, had the opportunity to enact stricter gun legislation, but voted against it. We are tired of them not listening to the people. Give us, those people, the will to say and do something about it come election day. That day, however, is far away, and we realize that there will be more times of mourning between now and then.
In this season of busy-ness and preparation, help keep us focused on things that truly matter. Help us to be the people you see us being. Help us to be kind, in word and deed. Help us to be a living example of how your love has changed us. Help us to change the world around us as we reflect your love.
Our lives have been so richly blessed by family and friends. This time of year brings many reconnections. This is not without stress. Help us to focus on the big picture, our overall love and enjoyment. Don’t let us get bogged down with minor irritations that can overshadow all the positives.
Benediction
Deep peace of the running waves to you.
Deep peace of the flowing air to you.
Deep peace of the quiet earth to you.
Deep peace of the shining stars to you.
Deep peace of the infinite peace to you.
November 29
Luke 1:5-20 In the days of King Herod of Judea, there was a priest named Zechariah, who belonged to the priestly order of Abijah. His wife was a descendant of Aaron, and her name was Elizabeth. 6 Both of them were righteous before God, living blamelessly according to all the commandments and regulations of the Lord. 7 But they had no children, because Elizabeth was barren, and both were getting on in years.
8 Once when he was serving as priest before God and his section was on duty, 9 he was chosen by lot, according to the custom of the priesthood, to enter the sanctuary of the Lord and offer incense. 10 Now at the time of the incense offering, the whole assembly of the people was praying outside. 11 Then there appeared to him an angel of the Lord, standing at the right side of the altar of incense. 12 When Zechariah saw him, he was terrified; and fear overwhelmed him. 13 But the angel said to him, “Do not be afraid, Zechariah, for your prayer has been heard. Your wife Elizabeth will bear you a son, and you will name him John. 14 You will have joy and gladness, and many will rejoice at his birth, 15 for he will be great in the sight of the Lord. He must never drink wine or strong drink; even before his birth he will be filled with the Holy Spirit. 16 He will turn many of the people of Israel to the Lord their God. 17 With the spirit and power of Elijah he will go before him, to turn the hearts of parents to their children, and the disobedient to the wisdom of the righteous, to make ready a people prepared for the Lord.” 18 Zechariah said to the angel, “How will I know that this is so? For I am an old man, and my wife is getting on in years.” 19 The angel replied, “I am Gabriel. I stand in the presence of God, and I have been sent to speak to you and to bring you this good news. 20 But now, because you did not believe my words, which will be fulfilled in their time, you will become mute, unable to speak, until the day these things occur.”
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, oh God, our rock and our redeemer. Amen.
Isn’t that just the cutest kid on the front of the bully? Know who that is? Not the Gerber baby. Remember back last spring when I kept praying for my friends Angel and Luke and their premature baby? This is her, seven months later! Little Ellie, who was born 16 weeks early and weighed only one pound 13 ounces. Now she weighs 13 pounds. She looks like any normal, happy baby, doesn’t she? When she was born, she was just slightly longer than her mom’s hand. She truly is a miracle baby.
Today we hear about another miracle baby, John. This is another in a long string of miraculous births in the bible. Sarah, Rebekah, Rachel, Samuel’s mother, Samson’s mother – they all had children after they were thought to be barren. Sarah and Elizabeth were far too old. The children borne of them were special, indeed.
In the first three verses today, we are introduced to Zechariah and Elizabeth. He is a priest and she is also of priestly descent, being a daughter of Aaron. They are good people. They live their faith. But they’re getting on in years and have no kids of their own. Oh, sure, they’re Auntie E and Uncle Z to countless children, many of whom now have children of their own. That doesn’t mean they ever stopped wishing for one, just one, of their own. Every time Z had to go to the temple to perform his duties, E would tag along and coo at the kids being brought to the temple for dedication.
Let me explain about the priests. The priests were broken into 24 houses, or groups. Each group served a week at a time, two weeks a year. Some estimates suggest there were more than 8000 priests around this time, which means more than 300 in each house. There were two incense offerings a day, morning and evening, so 14 for the week. Everyone threw their name in the hat for this honor. As you can deduce, getting one of these 14 slots was a slim prospect. You then tapped two buddies to go with you to help, but there was time alone in the sanctuary – not the holy of holies; only the high priest went there, and then only once a year. Once everything was set up, they left you alone, with the incense and G_d.
Makes me read the rest of the gospels differently, though, knowing about the priests. It is easy to think of them as just a solitary, monolithic block of men, but in reality, they were always changing. I’ll try to remember this as we go through the gospel this year.
So, picture the scene: Z has just won the priestly lottery and taps his two buddies to go into the sanctuary with him. The silence of the sanctuary, the holy place, is deafening. Without words, the three men get the allotted amount of sacred incense and put it in the brazier. After making sure he’s got the means to light it, the buddies say a quick prayer and leave Z alone in this sacred space, which few people ever get to see.
Z stands in silent awe for a full minute. He is tempted to peek behind the curtain that separates this room from the holy of holies, but feels bad for even letting that cross his mind. He turns his attention to the business at hand. It is easy to feel the presence of G_d in this space. This place, where our ancestors have been doing exactly this for hundreds of years. Honoring the G_d of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. Z closes his eyes as he is overcome with emotion.
Suddenly, the hair on the back of his neck stands up. He opens his eyes in a start, to find some guy standing next to the altar of incense. How? Who? What? The guy looked normal enough, but when he opened his mouth to tell Z not to be frightened, his voice sounded like the Mormon Tabernacle choir! Z did what any reasonable person would do. He fainted.
Gabriel thinks to himself: Great. A fainter. Why do I always get the fainters? Gabe knelt down next to Z, who was coming around. Except he looked at Gabe and fainted again. Gabe slapped him on the cheek a couple times, and he came round again, but his eyes started rolling back again. Gabe grabbed him by the shoulders, turned his voice down, and urged Z to stay with him. Z nodded his head in a minute, indicating he was okay. Gabe starts delivering his message: your prayer has been heard. Your wife Elizabeth will bear you a son, and you will name him John. Joy, gladness, many will rejoice, great in the sight of the Lord. No drinking wine or strong drink; filled with the Holy Spirit. Like Elijah yadda yadda yadda.
Z props himself up on one elbow. He does what any of us do in uncertain circumstances: he talks too much. He looks at Gabriel, and has the almighty cheek to ask, “How will I know that this is so? For I am an old man, and my wife is getting on in years.” Seriously? The angel of the Lord comes to you in the temple and you have the unmitigated gall to question him?
Gabe loses it. He turns his voice back up, full blast. Choir with organ plus full brass and tympani. Goes full blown angel on him, too. So bright Z had to shield his eyes, which made it difficult to see the full wingspan.
I AM GABRIEL! I STAND IN THE PRESENCE OF GOD AND YOU ARE QUESTIONING ME?!?! Just for that, I am so going to smite you. Words did you in today, so I am taking your words away. The next words you will be able to utter will be “Look at my cute baby boy!” Are we clear?
Z tries to answer, but finds he can’t. He nods. The angel disappears, leaving him on the floor, mute and confused.
Now Z has a long, very quiet wait in front of him. How is he going to explain this to all his fellow priests waiting outside? They’ll know something happened to him. Who’s going to believe him? Seeing an angel, and Gabriel no less. And all the rest of the people gathered outside. What’s he gonna say? He can’t say anything. How he wishes for a back door to the temple!
Oh, sweet Abraham, Sarah and Isaac! What’s he gonna tell E? He has to tell her! She’s a little involved. How is he gonna tell her? He can’t talk and she can’t read. Great. The most important conversation of their lives, and it’s gonna require a middle man.
Z sat on the floor a minute longer, contemplating his big mouth. When he could delay no longer, he sighed and slowly got his old bones vertical. How am I gonna chase after a kid? Why now, after all this time? He looked down at his cloak, and realized that Gabriel had left fingerprints on him that sort of glowed. In the back of his mind, he heard a voice. Not Gabriel. A different voice. Kind of quiet but intense. Said that this was the time, now. It’s hard to wait, but I had to wait until the time was right. Thanks, by the way.
Oh. Z stayed in the holy place just a little longer, breathing in The Presence, trying to make sense. Sense of this. Sense of life. Sense of anything. Yeah, yeah. I’m going. Everything in good time, right?
How do you think that conversation with E went? Kind of backwards, yeah? It’s usually the mom informing the father-to-be, not vice versa. How do you think she took it? Was she quiet and contemplative? Was she mad at Z, thinking he was putting her on? Did she believe right away and rejoice? We’re not told. All we get is this, in verses 24-25: 24 After those days his wife Elizabeth conceived, and for five months she remained in seclusion. She said, 25 “This is what the Lord has done for me when he looked favorably on me and took away the disgrace I have endured among my people.”
Waiting is hard. When we’re kids, waiting for recess, waiting for dad to get home from work. When we’re older, waiting for that special someone to answer the phone. Or maybe waiting for our own bundle of joy. All the time we’ve got to prepare, and we’re never really ready. We can’t anticipate what it will really be like, even when it’s something we’ve dreamed of our whole lives.
Then there’s the promise. It’s one thing when you’re certain of the eventual outcome, like recess. It will come, eventually. But what about when we just have to trust in a promise? Maybe you were promised an extra special birthday present as a kid. You can hope it’s something really cool, like space camp, or a pony or that one thing you’ve secretly been dreaming of for months. But what if your mom thinks special means socks and underwear? You’ve really got to just hope and trust, don’t you?
That’s where we sometimes fall short today, in the hope and trust department. In our world today, we are bombarded with bad news. Bombings. Shootings. Attacks. Natural disasters (although the majority of our disasters seem to be man-made). I’m sure it was much easier for both E and Z to trust after they ascertained she was truly pregnant. Then it was just waiting for the birth, getting the nursery ready, picking paint colors… At least they didn’t have to wonder about pink or blue, or even a name. (John is derived from the Hebrew for God has been gracious.)
How do we react? How do we wait? In this day and age of instant gratification and ADD, waiting seems to be a lost art (except at the doctor’s office). Even as I write this, I am distracted. It’s my alma mater’s big game against our arch-rivals. We just missed a field goal. Because I can instantly flip over to the internet to keep track of the game. I can’t wait.
But this is the season of waiting, of sitting with God’s promise. A season of intraspection and repentance. Unlike human promises or intentions, God will come through. We just have to trust and wait for the time to be right. Sometimes, it’s up to us to recognize that the time is right, like this week. The human intention to take care of our brothers and sisters during this cold snap fell utterly short. The folks who were supposed to do this missed the mark. Then it’s time for God’s people to step up and fill the void, because sometimes God works through us to keep promises. Pretty cool, huh?
It’s been said that God works in mysterious ways. Maybe. And maybe not. It was crystal clear what needed to happen this week. It was also clear that we were the only ones who were going to make it happen. It was also clear how deeply and richly we were blessed by being instruments of God’s promise. I dare say we’ll remember this for a while.
What do we do with God’s promises? We hold them close, hold them dearly. Then, we just keep doing what we do, putting one foot in front of the other, doing the next right thing. God hears our prayers, our hopes, our confusion. Somewhere, in the mix of everything, God’s kingdom comes a little bit closer. How blessed we are to be God’s partners in promise! Hallelujah, and amen.
November 15
Mark 13 As he came out of the temple, one of his disciples said to him, “Look, Teacher, what large stones and what large buildings!” 2 Then Jesus asked him, “Do you see these great buildings? Not one stone will be left here upon another; all will be thrown down.”
3 When he was sitting on the Mount of Olives opposite the temple, Peter, James, John, and Andrew asked him privately, 4 “Tell us, when will this be, and what will be the sign that all these things are about to be accomplished?” 5 Then Jesus began to say to them, “Beware that no one leads you astray. 6 Many will come in my name and say, ‘I am he!’[a] and they will lead many astray. 7 When you hear of wars and rumors of wars, do not be alarmed; this must take place, but the end is still to come. 8 For nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom; there will be earthquakes in various places; there will be famines. This is but the beginning of the birth pangs.
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, oh God, our rock and our redeemer. Amen.
You might not know it to look at me now, but back in the day, I worked construction. For eight years I worked as a sheet metal worker – heating, air conditioning, occasional gutter hanging. As an apprentice, I did lots of grunt work. Messy, dirty work. Got my share of cuts and breaks. (I can show you my scars at coffee hour.) Found out the hard way not to wear steel toe boots on a roof in a WI winter. Set units on a roof on a hot summer day. Beer never tasted so good!
Mostly I worked on new construction. One of my favorite projects was an 18 story for NML on the Milwaukee lakefront. My partner and I were the fourth crew up the building. No windows; it was wide open to wind and rain. We were up high enough (and it’s flat enough) that we used to be able to watch storms roll in from the NW. Did you know that if you drop, say, a small piece of angle iron and a pencil off the edge, they fall at the same rate? We repeated that experiment many, er, several times.
Once in a while, I got stuck on a small remodel job. They were always messy and dirty. And reminded me of my childhood, remodeling our house with my dad. Okay. He did all the big work and I mostly held the dummy end, but still. Man, that was fun! I also learned a lot. Like when to call a professional.
The biggest difference between new construction and a remodel? On new construction, everything is clean, level, plumb and square. On a remodel, not so much. In hundred year old houses, good luck! It did give me an appreciation of real 2x4s, plaster, and archeology.
I love architecture. I love nicely built buildings, good craftsmanship. On new construction, we would always sign our names on what we’d installed. I’m not laboring under the misapprehension that anything I’ve built is going to last forever. I’m proud of my contribution to the Milwaukee skyline, but even things built to last can be pretty ephemeral. Even the Temple in Jerusalem.
Jesus and his crew are leaving the Temple when one of the small town Galilean boys loses his chill and starts gushing like a tourist about how totally awesome Herod’s Temple was. Aside from being totally uncool, he was also right. Some of these weighed well over 100 tons, the largest measuring 44.6 feet by 11 feet by 16.5 feet and weighing approximately 567 to 628 tons,[22][23] while most were in the range of 2.5 by 3.5 by 15 feet (approximately 28 tons). King Herod had architects from Greece, Rome and Egypt plan the construction. Herod started his rebuilding project in 20 BCE. The main temple itself was completed in just a year and a half, although construction of outbuildings continued for another 80 years.
That puts the temple complex completed around 60 CE. In 66 CE, there was a Jewish revolt. In 70 CE, the temple along with most of Jerusalem was destroyed. Common thought, even when I was in seminary, was that Mark had Jesus “predict” the destruction of the temple in 71 CE. Just one problem with that. What Jesus predicts doesn’t actually happen. To this day, there are stones still in place. It seems that, just like after the 1906 quake, great destruction happened by fire. Many of the stones were reused for building projects by Emperor Hadrian, who ruled from 117 to 138.
If Mark would have had Jesus predict retroactively, you’d think he would have had Jesus get it right. So maybe this actually was a prediction. What are we to make of this?
This entire chapter of Mark is known as The Little Apocalypse. While the word apocalypse is Greek for revelation, most of what it reveals are scenes of end times. By association, in our day, it has come to be heavily reflective of The End of Times. I remember reading this as a child (Yes, they encouraged us to read this in grade school.), and trying to pin down when the end of the world would actually come. Thing is, everything mentioned has always been going on. There truly is nothing new under the sun.
Today’s pericope breaks down into two discrete sections: the temple’s destruction and all the other scary stuff. First things first.
Herod’s temple was huge. It was glorious. It was awe-inspiring. Technically speaking, it was a marvel – how did they set those huge stones? It had special courtyards for both gentiles and women, making it a house of prayer for all. Plans for it show it dominating Jerusalem. It shone in the sun. The scent of burnt offerings wafted from it. It was a gathering place, a place of learning and dynamic debate, the vibrant and lively center of Jewish life. What did Jesus mean that it would be completely destroyed?
Let’s take a step back from the literal for a moment. What if the disciple wasn’t marveling at the big stones like some bumpkin tourist, but rather equating the incredible edifice with the religious establishment? What if the disciple, having just heard all Jesus’ verbal and ideological wrangling with scribes and priests, wonders how they will ever make a dent in the entrenched institution that was the temple and its system?
Jesus answers in stunning fashion. See this place? It’s all coming down! Every last bit of it. Nothing will remain the same. Grammatically, Jesus is emphatic. In English, what happens when we have a double negative? Two wrongs make a right, yeah? Not in Greek. You can pile on the negatives and that only makes it stronger. Jesus uses two double negatives here. There is no way one stone will remain atop another! The entire temple structure is coming to an end.
The disciples are nonplussed into silence. They always assumed Jesus was working within the current framework, that changes could happen to what was already there to encompass this new and larger picture of God. Destruction of the temple and all it stands for? Were they ready for that?
Some of the disciples ask for clarification later. When? Whatever will destroy something as vast and glorious as the temple is not something they want to be on the wrong side of or in the way of. Can you tell us when we should get out of Dodge?
“Beware that no one leads you astray. 6 Many will come in my name and say, ‘I am he!’[a] and they will lead many astray. 7 When you hear of wars and rumors of wars, do not be alarmed; this must take place, but the end is still to come. 8 For nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom; there will be earthquakes in various places; there will be famines. This is but the beginning of the birth pangs.
Jesus lets fly some pretty boilerplate apocalyptic rhetoric. These images have been tied together since Daniel. Bob Cornwall notes: Apocalyptic writings tend to emerge from times of distress. They reflect both the despair over the current situation and the hope that something new would emerge. Think these weren’t times of distress? Stupid Romans! The Israelites had been a subject and oppressed people for hundreds of years. You can’t blame them for wishing for a clean start.
Some scholars and churches always try to read into this when the end of the world as we know it will come. This was a pastime in the church of my youth – looking for the second coming. Lots of folks over the years have tried to predict the end. Remember in 2012, the end of the Mayan calendar? Or the Y2K scare? For a while, I lived in Zion, IL, which was started as a utopian community by faith healer (and former Congregational minister) John A. Dowie in 1902. He predicted the end in 1954. Actually, not too far off, thinking about WWII. Many people have made a living off people’s fears.
Think about this, though. Wars, earthquakes and famines. Has there been a time in recent memory that we’ve been lacking any of these? Recent history? Any history? No one likes change. Change can be brutal. Political change – how often has it been peaceful? Every July 4th, we celebrate our independence that came about through war. Sure, you occasionally have your Gandhi or Canada, but change without bloodshed is the exception, not the rule. Earthquakes and fires are destructive. Do famines do anything but kill people?
In verse seven, though, Jesus tells us not to be alarmed. Don’t be troubled, frightened or disturbed. Then Jesus says something odd: This is but the beginning of the birth pangs.
I have no children. I’ve not given birth. Never felt the drive, and quite honestly, after seeing my cat give birth, I was afraid of the pain. Seems to be a great deal of pain involved. There is also great joy. Wednesday night, at bible study, I asked how long it takes for a new mother to forget the pain. My friend Betty said it was forgotten as soon as she saw each of her children. So it seems that the joy and excitement of the new erases the extreme pain and fear felt immediately before the new thing happened.
What does giving birth have to do with the destruction of the temple? Taking my concrete (sorry) experience of building as an analogy for institutions, I think this: sometimes you have to tear down before you can build up. Yes, sometimes you can remodel, but then you are hemmed in – you have to work within the framework of what’s left. This works fine for somethings, when you have a sturdy frame that’s true. Worked for my childhood home, but we gutted it. At one point, you could look in the back door and see out the front window. There was nothing left inside the outer shell. If you truly want to do a new thing, you need a fresh start. Sometimes the only way to do that is to raze what stood before. You can pour new – and flat – floors, have right angles and plumb walls to work with. You are also not limited by the previous configuration; you can build a new footprint.
Maybe this is what Jesus was talking about. Judaism was not the same after the temple came down. Not only did you have this new sect, this Way that disciples of Jesus followed, you also had what came to be called Second Temple Judaism. Since they no longer had the physical center of their cult, they developed new ways of living their faith, guided largely by the Pharisees. The aftermath of the temple’s destruction was a rich time for rabbinic literature, giving us the Talmud and the midrashic tradition. This truly was the birth of something new and wonderful.
One more building analogy. Sometimes you are forced to tear down. It’s not your idea, but someone red tags your house. You have no choice but to tear it down because it’s been condemned. You must build new. Sometimes force is the only way to initiate change. I’m not saying I’m suborn, but that’s happened in my life, more than once.
Question of the day is this: how will we choose to honor our God? What are the old ways of thinking or doing that no longer serve? What new ideas should we raise up in their place? Some amount of destruction almost always precedes change. We needn’t be afraid. It won’t be comfortable, but it can lead to undreamt of richness. We are currently experiencing a time like this in the Church. I wonder what God has instore for us?
I hope we can be open to the new things God is doing in our midst! What an exciting time! We get to create and build as God’s partners. May God give us the strength, endurance and vision for this sacred task. Hallelujah, and amen.
October 25
Mark 10:46 They came to Jericho. As he and his disciples and a large crowd were leaving Jericho, Bartimaeus son of Timaeus, a blind beggar, was sitting by the roadside. 47 When he heard that it was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to shout out and say, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” 48 Many sternly ordered him to be quiet, but he cried out even more loudly, “Son of David, have mercy on me!” 49 Jesus stood still and said, “Call him here.” And they called the blind man, saying to him, “Take heart; get up, he is calling you.” 50 So throwing off his cloak, he sprang up and came to Jesus. 51 Then Jesus said to him, “What do you want me to do for you?” The blind man said to him, “My teacher,[a] let me see again.” 52 Jesus said to him, “Go; your faith has made you well.” Immediately he regained his sight and followed him on the way.
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable unto you, oh God, our rock and our redeemer. Amen.
I read a lot. (I know. Big surprise.) I was the kind of kid who knew all the librarians. Well. I spent many summer afternoons as a kid at the library. (I’m not stupid; it was air conditioned.) Every summer, my brother, Mark, would give me a suggested reading list. He never steered me wrong, and often toward pirate and adventure stories. His list, coupled with my own thirst for Hollywood biographies, kept me busy when I wasn’t playing ball.
This thirst for words never abated, and I have always loved the last day of school terms when I could read whatever I wanted again. I’m a sucker for a cracking good story. I love the books of Rita Mae Brown. I also seem to have inherited from my mother a weakness for murder mysteries. I especially enjoy Kathy Reichs (You know, Bones.) and Laurie R. King. This time of year makes me want to revisit the ghost stories of Edith Wharton.
In college, I spent a lot of time with Latin authors. That Caesar sure could kill ‘em on the battlefield, but it was his writing nearly did me in. Read a lot of poetry. Learned a lot about rhetorical devices. Long story short, I know from writing. I appreciate everything, from overall structure to word choices. I loves me a well told tale.
With that having been said, today’s story is just, wow! My favorite gospel has always been Luke (next year!), least favorite, John. I never really thought about Mark much one way or t’other, except as a source for Matthew and Luke. It always seemed so bare bones, even stark. It certainly was never anything special. Until now that I’ve spent the better part of a year with it. I now have a great appreciation for the gospel of Mark. From overall structure to word choice, my hat is off.
Overarching form of the book/section
Mark jumps into Jesus’ ministry right away in chapter one, healing and teaching. He kinda needs to get to the point; the whole gospel is only 16 chapter. Then, in the middle of chapter 8, Jesus heals a blind man. This is followed by the three disclosures of his death, which are each followed by the disciples not getting it. Now Jesus heals a second blind man, who does get it. (One wonders who was truly blind.) After this story in Mark’s gospel, Jesus goes to Jerusalem and death. This whole center section bracketed by blind men healings is sort of the close of part one of the story. The official name for bracketing the section is inclusio. Marks it as important and makes it stand out. And, yes, this rhetorical highlighting for me is true brilliance.
Today’s story starts off with Jesus & Co. on the move again. They came to Jericho. They left Jericho. (Almost like their motto was Veni, vidi, exi.) Apparently, nothing too exciting happened while in the city proper. The narrative picks up as they are exeunt-ing.
They pass a bunch of people outside the city gates, among them beggars and other rabble. And, of course, our blind guy, Bartimaeus. The first thing we notice about him is that he has a name. Bartimaeus is literally Son of Timaeus. Usually this is spelled out for us with a “that is” or some such. Bartimaeus is one of those hybrid words – half one language and half another. Bar is Aramaic for son of. Timaeus is Greek for either honor or rebuke. Folks who were sick or handicapped in some way were always a little suspect. Who had done wrong, him or his father? Remember how name changes were important in the Hebrew scriptures? Abram became Abraham, Sarai Sarah, and Jacob Israel. Bartimaeus name doesn’t change, but I think the meaning does. Hold that thought.
What, exactly, was the importance of Jericho? (Today’s fun fact: Jericho was the site of Herod’s winter Palace. Es.) Aside from the stated location of the story, it doesn’t really figure. Or does it? Think about the last big story you heard involving Jericho. Had to do with yelling. And walking. And walls falling down. Here we have Jesus & Co. walking and Bartimaeus yelling. Can walls falling down be far away?
“They” tried to shut him up. We’re not told exactly who “they” is, but my money is the hometown crowd. The ones who knew him. The ones who could be embarrassed by him. They rebuked him (Yes, same word as his name.), but he yelled all the more. Here Bartimaeus is the son of rebuke. On the other hand, they could be the disciples. They were running late again, as usual. They didn’t want Jesus getting sidetracked. Again.
In verse 49, we read of Jesus doing something we’ve never seen him do before: he stopped. Bartimaeus stopped Jesus in his tracks. Jesus, who was always going somewhere. Jesus, who was so peripatetic he even walked on water. For Bartimaeus, he stopped. Bartimaeus stopped him in his tracks.
Jesus stops. He asked for the loud mouth to be called over to him. Actually, Jesus asked y’all to call him. Plural. Did Jesus just ask the crowd who had been trying to shut him up to call him over? Sounds like it to me. There were many hands there, to help guide him over to Jesus.
This next bit is interesting. We are told that Bartimaeus “throwing off his cloak, he sprang up and came to Jesus.” Why mention the cloak? Here’s the picture: you know how guitarists busk, and leave their guitar case open on the street for you to throw money in? Bartimaeus’ cloak was his guitar case. That’s where people threw their alms. At the end of the day, he could pick up his cloak by the edges and have a tidy bundle. In throwing off the cloak, he was sort off selling all he had. He was cutting his ties, leaving it all behind, because Jesus was calling.
Here now is Bartimaeus face to face with Jesus. I’m sure Bartimaeus’ heart was racing and he could barely breathe. The crowd got quiet, watching, waiting. Waiting to see what Jesus was going to do with this brash, loud, unruly, wretched man. Kyrie eleison! Lord, have mercy!
Jesus looks at him for a long moment, then asks him the same thing he had asked James and John in our story last week: What do you want me to do for you? Rabbi, Bartimaeus answered, that I might see again. We don’t know how he lost his sight. Perhaps illness, maybe doing something he shouldn’t have been doing, like playing ball in the house. He doesn’t want fame or fortune, or even, like James and John, a winning lottery ticket. He wants his sight back, so that he can once again be a productive, and respected, member of his community.
Jesus does have mercy. Immediately Bartimaeus saw again. Can you even imagine? His heart must have about pounded out of his chest! A dream come true! Amazing! Jesus told him to go, but he followed. How could you not follow someone who is obviously worthy? Did this not prove that Jesus was the Son of David? In the moment he followed, Bartimaeus went from Son of Rebuke to Son of Honor.
That’s the story, anyhow. There’s always debate on how to interpret these healing and miracle stories. Some folks try to explain them away, to make them more palatable to our modern sensibilities. They say that the miracle of the feeding stories is that people shared their packed lunches. Kind of takes the romance out of it, doesn’t it? Also takes the power away from God.
There seems to be an explanation for every outlandish story of God’s power in the bible. Yeah, God creating the world in six days is a myth. I understand that, just as I know that every culture has its own creation story. Did it happen that way? Probably not. But the God I believe in is big enough that it could have happened. Virgin birth? (Yes, I am already planning for Christmas Eve.) Given the fact that it really was a translation error from the Hebrew to the Greek, same rule applies. My God is big enough to make that happen.
Today’s story has been batted around for centuries. It’s a metaphor for the blindness of humanity. Bartimaeus wasn’t completely blind, only a little blind, like he really needed glasses. Don’t read it literally! Honestly, there are so many theories, it makes me a little dizzy.
What happens if we take it at face value? I have enough respect for the story teller to realize that there are probably layers here. But just the first layer is an amazing story of love and compassion. It’s the story of someone who is not in the intimate circle yet who really understands who Jesus is. And he’s blind, for crying out loud! Not even the disciples see as well as this, this, nobody. And Jesus sees him, and has compassion. Jesus has the power to change lives and does. That is someone I want to follow!
A few weeks back, we had another healing story that ended the same way, with Jesus claiming that their faith had made them whole. Kit asked me at coffee hour if that story bugged me. I had to admit it did. Now today we have another one. What gives?
First of all, I don’t think that’s how God works in our world as a general rule. Sure, you hear stories of cancer patients going into sudden, complete and unexplained remission every once in a while. Mostly you read that while you’re on line at the grocery. I’m a bit skeptical of modern faith healing stories. It’s not out of the question – back to that my God is big enough thought – but I think that nowadays God works through modern medicine and even ancient medicine like acupuncture.
Second of all, well, let me back up. Y’all know I do online bible study twice a week. Even though I’ve never met these folks face to face, we have become a community over the past year. We have all friended each other on Facebook, so we can keep up with each other’s lives. I message privately with half a dozen folks and have extended conversations. Sometimes we get into larger theological issues. Last week, Maria brought up the age old question of where does evil come from. The discussion went on for two days among several of us.
On Sunday evenings, we recently started reflecting on the lectionary. So last Sunday night, we talked about this passage. About 45 minutes in, I brought up the whole your faith has made you whole thing. I said that as someone living with chronic illness, I wonder what is wrong with my faith. Why haven’t I been healed? Is my faith lacking somehow? I’m following on the way! His faith? Really? What am I? Chopped liver?
Everyone got quiet for a bit, but soon folks picked up again. I don’t remember exactly what was said, but most people expressed support and compassion. I love my peeps!
It took me about 24 hours to put that thought into words, that thought that was dangling just out of reach. God has not outright and immediately healed me, but God has brought healing into my life in more ways than I can count. How has God healed you? How many people have you touched with God’s healing? Sometimes we find out years later that we helped someone. Sometimes we never find out.
Jesus was kind of lucky that way. He and Bartimaeus were face to face. Bartimaeus got to say thank you. Jesus saw the result of his work, saw a life changed. Even if we don’t know of the results, may we never cease to be God’s hands and heart in our world. Hallelujah, and amen.
19 September 2015
Mark 9:30-37 The Message
30-32 Leaving there, they went through Galilee. He didn’t want anyone to know their whereabouts, for he wanted to teach his disciples. He told them, “The Son of Man is about to be betrayed to some people who want nothing to do with God. They will murder him. Three days after his murder, he will rise, alive.” They didn’t know what he was talking about, but were afraid to ask him about it. 33 They came to Capernaum. When he was safe at home, he asked them, “What were you discussing on the road?” 34 The silence was deafening—they had been arguing with one another over who among them was greatest. 35 He sat down and summoned the Twelve. “So you want first place? Then take the last place. Be the servant of all.” 36-37 He put a child in the middle of the room. Then, cradling the little one in his arms, he said, “Whoever embraces one of these children as I do embraces me, and far more than me—God who sent me.”
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, oh God, our rock and our redeemer. Amen.
I have a great memory; it’s just really short. Like, when it comes to people’s names. (And don’t try to tell me this has never happened to you!) I’ll be at some gathering or another and meet someone new. We talk and laugh, and at some point, I realize I don’t remember their name. A pause in the conversation, in which I could have asked. But I’m embarrassed. We part, and then I spend the rest of the evening trying to find someone who knows the person to whom I was talking. Good luck with that.
I’m afraid to ask. Know that old saying about there are no stupid questions? I never believed that, either. Because I just feel like such an idiot when that happens. You think I’d learn, right? Yeah.
So here’s Jesus and the fellas traveling through Galilee, trying to keep it on the QT. Jesus has often been the center of mob scenes, but now he’s almost trying to go incognito. (Like folks are going to miss this large group of people walking around.) Jesus has a serious message to impart to his closest followers: he’s going to die, and not of natural causes. After three days, though, he’ll be back!
The guys don’t quite follow, though. First, why’s he always talking about dying lately? Does he really think we’d let anything like that happen to him? Why is he starting this talk now? We’re just starting to do well! We’ve got more followers than ever. We ourselves have been successful when we’ve gone out on healing and preaching trips. What’s he on about?
They banged it about among themselves for a while, but they just couldn’t figure it out. Someone (Was it Philip? Again?) brought up the idea that one of them should just ask him to clarify. No one, and I mean no one, volunteered. After a few minutes of silence, it was generally agreed upon that if they didn’t bring it up again, maybe Jesus would just forget about it.
The next day, they headed out for Capernaum. Once they were settled in the house, Jesus nonchalantly asked what they’d been discussing so passionately on the road. Now, two things weren’t gonna happen. First, nobody was going to bring up this whole dying business again. Second, nobody was going to admit that some of them were arguing about who was the best disciple. They suddenly all developed cuticle problems.
Jesus rolled his eyes and sat down. He called them in that tone of voice. You know the one – the way your dad said your name when you’d done something bad and you knew you were in trouble? That voice. Then he grabbed a kid and started talking about first and last and being a servant and embracing. Or some such. It’s tough to listen when you’re embarrassed. Why did he always have to use a kid?
Essentially, the disciples had been arguing about faith, and whose was greatest, as if faith can be measured competitively. As if it were a competition. What is faith, anyhow? Is there a sliding scale of faith? Can we have lots or just a little, or is it either off or on? Can you prove you have it? If you believe in something that’s not real, does it still count as faith? (If a tree falls in the woods…)
Let’s talk about faith. Different people have different ideas about what it is. Is it mindful assent? Some folks think having any kind of faith points to mental deficiency. They see faith as believing in something that’s not real. Therefore, if you admit to belief in anything that can’t be empirically proven, you’re not firing on all eight cylinders.
On the other hand, these thoughts were from the Secular Humanism website:
From the inside, when you have faith you have moorings, direction, purpose that other people, the ones who do not have faith, lack. If you believe in nothing, you question everything, and where are you? You are like a ship adrift, without a destination. You have a crew but no captain, no pilot, no compass, no charts. You may end up in different waters than where you began, but to what purpose? What was the voyage for? The matter of faith changes all that. You know where you are going... Faith lends meaning to an otherwise meaningless existence. It makes the whole matter of life worthwhile.
Is faith solely of the heart? A mix of heart and head? Personally, I hope that you won’t swallow everything that anyone – even me – puts before you hook, line and sinker. I hope that you always keep your brain engaged. I hope that you only have faith in things that are worthy of your faith.
What is worthy of our faith? This is from Dave Lowe on the Starting With God website:
The mustard seed is the smallest of seeds. Jesus used that fact to illustrate that it isn’t the size of your faith that’s important. Rather…the power of faith rests in the reliability of its object, not in how confident you may be.
Personally, I’m pretty confident in the reliability of God.
Do we have to have perfect faith? What if we waver? What if, for a time, I lose faith completely? Back in 1957, a fella named Paul Tillich wrote a book called ‘The Dynamics of Faith.” (No quotes from him today. I have to read his stuff over three times before it makes sense to me.) Just look at the title: ‘The Dynamics of Faith.” First, that faith is dynamic. Second, dynamics, plural. In music, what are dynamics? Right – the changes in volume of a piece of music. Without dynamics, music is boring. So, too, with our faith. We will have more than one dynamic, not be the same all the time.
I’ve talked about faith, described aspects of faith, but what, exactly, is faith? Perhaps we can appropriate Supreme Court Justice Potter Stewart’s famed description for our purposes: I can’t define faith, but I know it when I see it. I’ve been thinking about this all week, about how can I say what faith is. At first, I gotta tell ya, I was stumped. Then--
If I had to describe faith using our senses, what would faith taste like? I think it would taste like my mom’s apple pie. (Right, Kurt? You know what I’m talking about!) Or really good mac and cheese, or the best mashed potatoes and gravy you’ve ever had. You know, comfort food. Or maybe those cherry tomatoes Diane brought to coffee hour and a half last week.
Maybe faith smells like bread baking. Or maybe like that blissful rain we got on Wednesday. Or maybe it smells like redwoods in spring, when the sap starts running. Pretty sure for our friend, Maple, it smells like coffee brewing.
What does faith sound like? Music is a good bet, and not just a favorite hymn (of which I have many). I love many kinds of music – jazz, swing, Celtic, salsa, progressive bluegrass (no banjoes!), classical. (Spent most of yesterday listening to Beethoven piano sonatas, because my name is Schroeder.) The music that really speaks to my soul: Bach. There are times I hear it not with my ears, but viscerally; it goes directly to my heart and opens me up. So does my cat’s purring. What does your faith sound like?
We all know what faith looks like. It looks like action! It looks like first responders. Like protesters, people standing up for what they believe in. It looks like a friend helping out. Like working at the food bank. Like donating to the worthy cause of your choice.
I started this list when I realized earlier this week what faith feels like. My friend, Mary, came over. I hadn’t seen her in a couple months, and we talked and laughed like we always do. Then we started talking about my latest project, getting hand controls for my car. I’ve been trying to research how to get it done, but was having very little luck. Mary said, “Can I help you out with that?” Two hours later, she emailed me huge part of the puzzle. I can’t tell you how relieved I felt. Yes, Mary made me realize what faith feels like: when my heart is full and I can only laugh or cry or sing in response. What does it feel like for you?
I know that faith is a different experience for each of us. When I looked back over my list, though, I realized that every single answer I gave was about relation. The tastes and smells are all caused by somebody, usually someone who loves us. Rain and redwoods is about our relationship with nature. Music, making it or listening to someone else, is about relationship. My cat is THE relationship. The action of faith is all about people. My relationships with loved ones gives me some clue of what God’s love is like.
I think that’s what faith, in essence, is: our relationship with God. Just speaking for myself, I know my relationship with God ebbs and flows. There are times when I put it on a back burner. There are times when I actively try to cultivate it, through prayer and study and meditation. Then there are the surprises, like this past week, when God breaks in unexpected and unannounced. Just, BAM! And there God is, front and center, taking over the room, can’t be ignored. A spiritual accident.
Most of the time, for me, God does show up in my relationships. Sometimes, though, it’s just me and God. You know what a thin place is, yeah? I’ve talked about this before, I think. "Thin places" is a Celtic Christian term for "those rare locales where the distance between heaven and Earth collapses", as Eric Weiner puts it. Some are well known to many people, and some are just our own. This sanctuary has always been a thin place for me. Others find God close in the redwood cathedrals or the majesty of the ocean.
The disciples might have been afraid to ask Jesus for clarification, but we needn’t be afraid of coming to God. God invites us into relationship, into God’s loving embrace. Whether we feel at any given moment that we have faith the size of a mustard seed or an elephant, God is ready, willing and able to hold us, help us, comfort us. God is ready to hear the contents of our hearts and the troubles of our souls. God is ready to meet us. Are we ready to go? Amen.
12 September 2015
Mark 8:27-38 The Message
27 Jesus and his disciples headed out for the villages around Caesarea Philippi. As they walked, he asked, “Who do the people say I am?”
28 “Some say ‘John the Baptizer,’” they said. “Others say ‘Elijah.’ Still others say ‘one of the prophets.’”
29 He then asked, “And you—what are you saying about me? Who am I?”
Peter gave the answer: “You are the Christ, the Messiah.”
30-32 Jesus warned them to keep it quiet, not to breathe a word of it to anyone. He then began explaining things to them: “It is necessary that the Son of Man proceed to an ordeal of suffering, be tried and found guilty by the elders, high priests, and religion scholars, be killed, and after three days rise up alive.” He said this simply and clearly so they couldn’t miss it.
32-33 But Peter grabbed him in protest. Turning and seeing his disciples wavering, wondering what to believe, Jesus confronted Peter. “Peter, get out of my way! Satan, get lost! You have no idea how God works.”
34-37 Calling the crowd to join his disciples, he said, “Anyone who intends to come with me has to let me lead. You’re not in the driver’s seat; I am. Don’t run from suffering; embrace it. Follow me and I’ll show you how. Self-help is no help at all. Self-sacrifice is the way, my way, to saving yourself, your true self. What good would it do to get everything you want and lose you, the real you? For what could you ever trade your soul?
38 “If any of you are embarrassed over me and the way I’m leading you when you get around your fickle and unfocused friends, know that you’ll be an even greater embarrassment to the Son of Man when he arrives in all the splendor of God, his Father, with an army of the holy angels.”
May the words of my mouth and the meditations our hearts be acceptable to you, oh God, our rock and our redeemer. Amen.
You know that I’m a recovering alcoholic. 22 years this summer. I’m kind of getting the hang of it, although you never know what’s going to take you right back to that very first day. Things come right up out of the blue, and suddenly you don’t know up from down, right from left. Guess that’s why we’re all recovering, never recovered. Ever.
I’m glad that I didn’t know how tough it was going to be. I never would have tried. Honestly? I don’t know how anyone makes it through the first year. I was lucky – I had insurance that let me do 28 days as an inpatient for the initial detox/dry out. (That movie, 28 Days? Spot on!) So glad I made it. Life is so much better on this side!
The thing about the 12 Steps is that they not only help you get rid of the alcohol, they give you help with living your life, some simple directions for how to live life with integrity, because that’s not something that’s been a very high priority for us. We kind of need remedial life. Or kindergarten. If you listen to the Steps, you notice that the first bunch are getting us out of the hole we’ve dug ourselves into, and the rest are for keeping us from falling back in it. The hole never goes away, though.
Y’all heard the Steps? It’s been a few years since I’ve been to a meeting, so it was good for me to read these again:
Graceful segue?
This morning’s pericope is a pip, isn’t it? First, we have Peter’s great statement about who Jesus really is, the Jesus starts talking about suffering and dying. Peter’s not fond of the thought of someone he respects, admires and loves becoming a casualty. But when he expresses his ardent desire that his teacher not suffer and die, Jesus calls him an adversary! Ain’t that just a slap in the face.
The odd thing about this statement is that the word for getting behind is the same word that Jesus used to call the disciples in the first place. He told them to follow him. Peter was inverting the natural order. He was putting his way in front instead of letting Jesus lead.
That’s why I picked this translation today. I’m not entirely satisfied with it, but then I’m never satisfied with any of them. I really liked the emphasis they place on Jesus being the leader and us the followers. I think that’s what at the heart of today’s reading. In the NRSV, verses 34-37 read, “34 He called the crowd with his disciples, and said to them, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. 35 For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel,[b] will save it. 36 For what will it profit them to gain the whole world and forfeit their life? 37 Indeed, what can they give in return for their life?” Sounds very different, yeah?
A few words about taking up your cross: did you notice that in the earlier part, where Jesus was talking about his death, he doesn’t mention the cross? He talks about the elders, high priests, and religion scholars, but only the Romans can crucify. When someone in those days carried their cross, they carried the cross beam only, not the whole thing. As the condemned was led through the city, people would hurl insults and abuse. Maybe that was how they really felt, or maybe they were trying to convince the Romans whose side they were on. Being a cross carrier was pretty bad, all the way round, not to mention that death thing.
I like the first translation. I like how it talks about letting Jesus lead. If we only read about losing our life, we can lose sight of the metaphor, which, in this case, makes way more sense to me. I can metaphorically lose myself lots of ways. I can get lost in a good book or a good movie. I can get busy and lose track of time, disappearing completely into my own little world. We can get lost looking into the eyes of a love; we fall head over heels and lose our head. I can get lost lots of ways without losing my life.
“Anyone who intends to come with me has to let me lead. You’re not in the driver’s seat; I am. Don’t run from suffering; embrace it. Follow me and I’ll show you how. Self-help is no help at all. Self-sacrifice is the way, my way, to saving yourself, your true self. What good would it do to get everything you want and lose you, the real you? For what could you ever trade your soul?
We have to let Jesus lead. We have to let him be in the driver’s seat. Self-sacrifice. Wait, what? What does that mean? What does that have to do with anything?
You know how I’m always saying that there are as many ways to God as there are people on earth? For me, one of the most formative influences has been the 12 Steps and AA. They did actually save my life. After I got into AA, it took me a while to figure out what I was going to do about step two and believing in a power greater than myself. I spent a long time and much energy debating with myself on the existence of God. I remember some people started out with a lilac bush as their higher power. Lilacs do that amazing coming back to life dance every spring. Some folks started out with phone poles because they could do something we couldn’t: stand up on their own. Many start out with the group as their HP. I eventually got tired of debating with myself, and decided to try believing in God for a while, just to see. So far, it’s been working out.
I worked the rest of the steps as best I could. That searching and fearless moral inventory? Oooh, scary! And then having to share that with another person? But I made it. Truthfully? I’m still working on the whole making amends steps. I do very consciously try to work step ten. Life tends to be easier and better when I clear things up right away, instead of worrying and beating myself up. I think it’s safe to say that yes, I have had a spiritual awakening as the result of these steps.
While step ten helps me be a relatively decent human being, it is step 11 that helps my spiritual life: Sought through prayer and meditation to improve our conscious contact with God as we understood God, praying only for knowledge of God’s will for us and the power to carry that out. This, for me, is how I let Jesus drive. Okay, I pray for more than just knowledge of God’s will for me, but this has changed the way I pray. I try not to tell God what to do, what’s best for my family and friends, and especially me. I try to be a good little duckling. I try to lose my self-will and align my will with God’s will.
Honestly? I’ve never felt better, more whole, than when I try to lose myself to God. My life keeps getting better and better. I’ve had some truly breathtaking moments since “deciding” one day to believe in God. I’ve got to thank you, too. Because of y’all, I get to spend more time reading and studying and praying and thinking about God, sitting in the Presence. This past year has been fantastic! I am one lucky duck.
Now you’re thinking, “Great. Works for you. But that’s your job. What about me?”
Good point. Different paths for different people. David Lose says this: What gives you the greatest joy in life? What creates for you the deepest sense of purpose? And when you do you feel most alive, most true to the person you believe God created you to be? My guess is that it wasn’t something you bought, or even earned, but rather was rooted in relationship, in acts of service, and even in acts of what the world calls “sacrifice” when you are caring for another.
I’m pretty much a geek, and the whole reading and studying thing does it for me. But what about each of you? What makes your heart sing? What stops you in your tracks because it’s beautiful? What takes you out of yourself, makes you say wow or thanks? What brings your soul closer to God?
There are endless ways to find God. Sometimes we (and I mean I) make things harder than they have to be. God’s not far. Following God can be scary sometimes, but if we let God lead, let Jesus drive, we won’t go wrong. It really is in losing ourselves that we are found.
May God bless our efforts, all of them, no matter how faltering or timid, at coming closer to God. Hallelujah, and amen.
July 26, 2015
45 Immediately he made his disciples get into the boat and go on ahead to the other side, to Bethsaida, while he dismissed the crowd. 46 After saying farewell to them, he went up on the mountain to pray.
47 When evening came, the boat was out on the sea, and he was alone on the land. 48 When he saw that they were straining at the oars against an adverse wind, he came towards them early in the morning, walking on the sea. He intended to pass them by. 49 But when they saw him walking on the sea, they thought it was a ghost and cried out; 50 for they all saw him and were terrified. But immediately he spoke to them and said, “Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.” 51 Then he got into the boat with them and the wind ceased. And they were utterly astounded, 52 for they did not understand about the loaves, but their hearts were hardened.
53 When they had crossed over, they came to land at Gennesaret and moored the boat. 54 When they got out of the boat, people at once recognized him, 55 and rushed about that whole region and began to bring the sick on mats to wherever they heard he was. 56 And wherever he went, into villages or cities or farms, they laid the sick in the marketplaces, and begged him that they might touch even the fringe of his cloak; and all who touched it were healed.
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, oh God, our rock and our redeemer. Amen.
You guys know I like movies, yeah? (and chocolate and the Giants) Did you know that I’ve taken a couple of screenwriting classes? Gee, maybe I should make this into a screenplay. What do you think? I need to take many more classes, but two of the big things I’ve learned are story arc and conflict.
You need to have a story arc, a plot line. For rom-coms, the plotline is usually basically boy meets girl, boy loses girl, boy wins girl back (or some combination of genders). A key point, though, is conflict. You need to have your protagonist overcome some obstacles, or else if it’s just boy meets girl, the end, you don’t have much of a story.
Think of some of your favorite movies. Better yet, think of one of mine, North by Northwest. (Remind me to tell you a longer story at coffee hour and a half.) It starts out quietly enough, with Cary Grant having dinner in a restaurant. But after that, it was one obstacle after another – people trying to kill him often and by various means, an elusive secret agent, and the secretive and sexy Eva Marie Saint. I think even Jefferson’s nose was an obstacle, along with the crop duster. (Why don’t I own that movie?)
Mark presents a great story arc here in chapter six. Unfortunately for the disciples, their trajectory isn’t so much an arc as a line. A downward line. Let’s continue with the story:
Previously, on Jesus and the disciples--
Last week we talked about the disciples coming back, triumphantly, from their first mission trip. But how soon they forgot the thrill of being the miracle men and instead accede their recently acquired powers to Jesus. Instead of feeding 5000+ people, Jesus takes over and resumes his place as most eligible healer. Back to our story--
It’s hard to say when exactly in Jesus’ ministry the sending of the disciples took place. They had been following and learning from Jesus for a while, anyhow. They knew his basic teachings. They’d observed Jesus healing. They knew who was in – everyone – and who was out – no one. They knew what was what. They knew it all; they’d just never actually done it.
Once they started having some successes, word started spreading about them. They gained confidence and they gained power. All too soon, it was time to meet back up with Jesus. But, boy oh boy! What stories they could tell!
They all got back and told all their stories. Jesus suggested a day long retreat, so they hopped in the boat and took off. Except their fame now made them targets. They couldn’t go anywhere without people pointing them out and getting mobbed. Like that day: folks had run around and met them on the shore. So much for a getaway.
But Jesus ran interference for them, sitting down with the crowd so the disciples could escape. By the time they came down from the hills to go back to the village for dinner, there was a huge crowd. They groaned in exasperation but joined Jesus. Then the unexpected happened: Jesus told them to feed the crowd!
Well, wasn’t that just the last straw! How quickly they forgot the power they had only the day before. Instead of taking the opportunity to be heroes, they were zeroes. In their tiredness and frustration, they threw up their hands in defeat. Jesus rolled his eyes and did what he always did – met the needs of whoever was in front of him.
The sun is starting to set now. Jesus tells the disciples to take the boat and go back. As soon as he dismisses the crowd, he’s going to take the meditation time he hadn’t gotten that day. Much later, Jesus looks down from his mountain perch and sees the disciples in the boat, straining at the oars against an adverse wind. I’m not sure how long it took Jesus to get down there, but next we hear that it’s early morning and Jesus is walking toward them on the water. Apparently the wind only inhibited boats.
If you remember from our other boat stories, some of the fellas were fishermen, but most were not. The sea was a place of mystery and fear. People died out there. There could be anything below that surface; you couldn’t see down very far. There was seaweed that wrapped itself around your legs; at least you hoped it was seaweed! Fish nibbled your toes, although you were never quite sure if something with a bigger mouth and bigger teeth and a bigger appetite was nearby. Point is, anything could happen out there. And the stories--
So Jesus just goes bopping across the water and looked like he was going to pass them by, actually. He must have been trucking, huh? And the disciples are really straining and going nowhere. Then they see him. Except they don’t recognize him in the half light, through the haze of tiredness. What they see is an apparition coming toward them! Quickly! Some said that the shades of the sea’s victims walked again at night. Whatever it was, it was not normal, it was not real, and it definitely wasn’t right!
Jesus could see that were scared out of their minds, so he identifies himself. In the NRSV, it says: “Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.” In Greek, that it is I is written as egw eimi. Remember when Moses was out on Mt. Horeb, watching his flock by night? Wait – wrong story. Moses is up on Mt. Horeb and he sees the burning bush, and the voice of God says I am the God of your father? In the LXX, with which Mark’s readers would have been most familiar, that I am is egw eimi. Mark’s readers would have caught that allusion, that Jesus identifies himself here as God.
What do you think, comforting or not? It’s either, Oh, good. We’re safe now. God is here. Or it’s, Oh, nuts. It’s so bad we’ve crossed clean over and God is here. Out of the frying pan…
While the disciples were still gaping in disbelief, Jesus climbs aboard and the wind almost magically calms. This verse is key: And they were utterly astounded, 52 for they did not understand about the loaves, but their hearts were hardened. We SEE the disciples’ story line taking a nose dive. They are on a losing streak like the Giants before the All Star break. Not only are they giving up their power, they have no understanding. Just like the long ago pharaoh, their hearts are hardened.
(You think readers and listeners didn’t get all the Hebrew scripture references? Think about it: we just had the story of magic bread, like manna, in the wilderness. Then Jesus said I am, just like the burning bush. Now the hardening of hearts. Yes, Mark intended to show these connections and yes, the people caught them. In this largely illiterate culture, writers used parallels to point and to help people remember.)
The next two verses sum it all up for us: 53 When they had crossed over, they came to land at Gennesaret and moored the boat. 54 When they got out of the boat, people at once recognized him. That tells us the bottom line; they turns back into him. People weren’t interested in the disciples anymore; they had nothing to offer, no truths to tell, and no healing power to back it up.
For Jesus, on the other hand, business was booming. He was more powerful and popular than ever. People are coming from all over, bringing their sick on mats to wherever they heard he was. 56 And wherever he went, into villages or cities or farms, they laid the sick in the marketplaces, and begged him that they might touch even the fringe of his cloak; and all who touched it were healed. What does that last line remind us of?
We have two story lines in this chapter: the disciples, who start kind of low. They are just followers, after all. Then they go out on their own, and their line goes way up. Now, at the end, they are lower than they were at the beginning, almost like a big bell curve, except we have no idea just how far down they can sink. Jesus, though, the line starts out low, when he is rejected in his hometown. After that, his story only goes one direction: up.
What a ride, huh? Somebody should make a movie out of this!
What’s the take away? What do we get from all this beside a really interesting story?
My Greek buddy blogger, D. Mark Davis, sums up the chapter like this:
Everything about vv.53-56 speaks to the ministry, popularity, and power of Jesus. I would argue that the twelve – having once fulfilled their calling as apostles – have now lapsed back into ignorant and fearful followers. They are followers, one must give them that much credit. But, they are not participating in the way that they had been called and empowered to participate. They are now more ‘hangers on’ than ‘co-workers.’
I love that we saw the disciples as called and empowered to participate. Just like us. We are called and empowered to participate as well.
What we do in our world doesn’t look exactly like what they did in their world. Rarely are people miraculously healed these days. You might hear about someone once in a while, but it’s usually written up in the Enquirer, possibly fake and more than a little dubious.
I feel called and empowered to share God’s love through word and deed. I hope that my ramblings on Sunday mornings are a bit edifying, that they make you think, that they help you see our world and our God differently and more clearly. Although I don’t get out into the big, wide world as much as I used to, I hope my actions speak of love and gentleness. There is enough of hardness and cruelty in the world.
I hope you all feel called and empowered to be God’s co-workers, too. God might have started this world all those thousands, millions of years ago, but we are God’s hands now. God works through our actions. I don’t want you to think that God’s hands are tied without us; the God I believe in is powerful enough to accomplish any end. I just think it’s an honor to be invited to participate. God not only loves us, just as we are and no matter what, but God also invites us to help in the continued formation of this amazing world.
Every smile you give. Every kind word you speak. Every check you write for your favorite cause. Every dollar you stash into a beggar’s cup. Every re-usable bag you take to the grocery. Every paper you recycle. Every dish you wash, and every plant you water. There are countless ways to say yes to God. Some are huge, but most are small.
Many people quote Gandhi about being the change you want to see in the world. I say be the love, God’s love.
May we witness to the love of God by our every deed and word. Hallelujah, and amen.
July 19, 2015
Normally, the lection for today is Mark 6:30-34, 53-56, which, as you can tell, is a little disjointed. I had to go back myself and read the intervening verses, so that I was clear about what was happening. Then I looked ahead to next week. It’s these same missing stories, but in John, not Mark. Well--
We use a three year cycle: A= Matthew, B = Mark, and C = Luke. Bits of John get stuck here and there, sometimes because it has great narrative found nowhere else – think foot washing, Lazarus and the Samaritan woman at the well – and sometimes, I think, just because the lectionary committee felt they should include more.
I disagree with their call here. The whole 6th chapter of Mark has an important story arc. I want to look at this chapter as a whole, for the story it tells. I’m sure the John version has other things to say, and we’ll probably hit them in three years. But this week and next, we are going to let Mark sing!
Oh, by the way, this is part one of a two part sermon, so be sure to tune in next week--
Mark 6:30-56 The apostles gathered around Jesus, and told him all that they had done and taught. 31 He said to them, “Come away to a deserted place all by yourselves and rest a while.” For many were coming and going, and they had no leisure even to eat. 32 And they went away in the boat to a deserted place by themselves. 33 Now many saw them going and recognized them, and they hurried there on foot from all the towns and arrived ahead of them. 34 As he went ashore, he saw a great crowd; and he had compassion for them, because they were like sheep without a shepherd; and he began to teach them many things. 35 When it grew late, his disciples came to him and said, “This is a deserted place, and the hour is now very late; 36 send them away so that they may go into the surrounding country and villages and buy something for themselves to eat.” 37 But he answered them, “You give them something to eat.” They said to him, “Are we to go and buy two hundred denarii[i] worth of bread, and give it to them to eat?” 38 And he said to them, “How many loaves have you? Go and see.” When they had found out, they said, “Five, and two fish.” 39 Then he ordered them to get all the people to sit down in groups on the green grass. 40 So they sat down in groups of hundreds and of fifties. 41 Taking the five loaves and the two fish, he looked up to heaven, and blessed and broke the loaves, and gave them to his disciples to set before the people; and he divided the two fish among them all. 42 And all ate and were filled; 43 and they took up twelve baskets full of broken pieces and of the fish. 44 Those who had eaten the loaves numbered five thousand men.
45 Immediately he made his disciples get into the boat and go on ahead to the other side, to Bethsaida, while he dismissed the crowd. 46 After saying farewell to them, he went up on the mountain to pray.
47 When evening came, the boat was out on the sea, and he was alone on the land. 48 When he saw that they were straining at the oars against an adverse wind, he came towards them early in the morning, walking on the sea. He intended to pass them by. 49 But when they saw him walking on the sea, they thought it was a ghost and cried out; 50 for they all saw him and were terrified. But immediately he spoke to them and said, “Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.” 51 Then he got into the boat with them and the wind ceased. And they were utterly astounded, 52 for they did not understand about the loaves, but their hearts were hardened.
53 When they had crossed over, they came to land at Gennesaret and moored the boat. 54 When they got out of the boat, people at once recognized him, 55 and rushed about that whole region and began to bring the sick on mats to wherever they heard he was. 56 And wherever he went, into villages or cities or farms, they laid the sick in the marketplaces, and begged him that they might touch even the fringe of his cloak; and all who touched it were healed.
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, oh God, our rock and our redeemer. Amen.
I… am an introvert. I’ve lived alone, oh, wait, Norma will be mad if she finds out I said that. I’ve lived without human companionship for four years now, and I kinda like it. Not having to compromise on anything from what’s for dinner, what will we watch to it’s hot in here – kind of nice. Not to mention the peace and quiet!
I know it’s hard to tell of a Sunday morning that I’m an introvert, but trust me. Last week, I slept for two hours when I got home. Actually, many pastors are introverts. I’m not the only one taking the Sacred Sunday Afternoon Nap. Just like the disciples, we need some down time to recharge.
As our pericope opens, the disciples have just returned from their first mission trip, and they are dying to tell Jesus all about it! Probably kept interrupting each other, talking over each other, trying to out-do each other: Oh, yeah? That’s nothing! In this one town we cast out six demons!
Let’s face it: when they first got sent out, they were scared. They’d never healed anyone, only watched. Why should anyone listen to anything they have to say? They were timid when they started out. Finally someone brought them, like, a sick goat or something. There they were, kneeling down, eyes all scrunched up, praying that this will work. When they opened their eyes, the goat had scampered off. People started bringing them tougher cases. Uncle Fred with the limp. Cousin Ted who was blind in one eye. Finally they brought Grampa Frank, who had about 20 minutes left to live; now he’s good for another 20 years.
They went from being in the entourage to stadium rock stars in a couple days. They were scared to begin with, but now they were throwing down random healings like nobody’s business. People were starting to follow them around! Now they got to tell Jesus all about it.
Yeah, they are all happy and excited and smiling. Giving each other high fives and fist bumps. Jesus is sitting there, absolutely glowing with pleasure at their successes. As the celebration winds down, the disciples start to feel the stress they’ve been under. Jesus understands. He knows that he can get overwhelmed by the demands of his ministry, and wants to prevent his disciples from burning out. (I suspect that Jesus might have been an introvert, too. We’re always hearing about him sneaking off by himself.)
So Jesus says: “Come away to a deserted place all by yourselves and rest a while.” Imagine – the disciples were rock stars now, too. There were so many people coming and going that they weren’t able to get a meal, not even a drive-thru! A little space probably sounded pretty good, a little time out from their new found fame. So they head out to the waiting boat.
Good plan, except that someone overheard those plans. Started a rumor. Started a stampede. Folks ran around the lake on shore, and were waiting for them when they got there. So much for R&R.
But Jesus is there, and he has pity on the people. He starts distracting, I mean, teaching, so the disciples could have some peace.
Here’s the thing about the sheep without a shepherd: that’s what Moses said when he was dying, in Numbers 27: 16-17: "Let the Lord...appoint someone over the congregation who shall go out before them and come in before them, who shall lead them out and bring them in, so that the congregation of the Lord may not be like sheep without a shepherd." If you remember, God appointed Joshua. That’s the name in Hebrew, which turns into Jesus in Greek.
Later that day, the disciples come traipsing back, and see Jesus teaching this huge crowd. They draw Jesus attention to the hour and suggest that he get rid of the crowd, ostensibly so they can get dinner. Here’s these guys who’ve just been bragging on their miracles, but when Jesus suggests that they take care of the crowd, they turn back into whiny know-nothings. Jesus gives them the opportunity still to be rock stars, but they choose to defer to Jesus. Had they lost their miraculous abilities? I doubt it. Just their confidence.
Then follows this exchange: “Are we to go and buy two hundred denarii worth of bread, and give it to them to eat?” 38 And he said to them, “How many loaves have you? Go and see.” First, 200 denarii is a year’s wages. Second, didn’t Jesus send them out with nothing? Why do they suddenly have bread and fish? I’m thinking; busted! Okay, technically, they weren’t on the road anymore, but still.
So Jesus does that Jesus thing, and makes five loaves and two little smoked fish go farther than Hazel or Alice ever could. I imagine the disciples mumbling to themselves about how they could have done that while they were picking up the leftovers. 5000 men (plus women and children) ate from what should have fed about three people.
What do you think the disciples and Jesus were teaching? We’re never expressly told. We have some of the teachings of Jesus recounted for us, in the beatitudes and parables and stories like the Prodigal Son and Good Samaritan. But would that have taken up eight hours? Did Jesus ever talk about contemporary issues? Perhaps things about the Romans?
If he did, I’m kind of glad these thoughts never came down to us. As a society, we’re not doing very well with what we do have, which boils down to love God and don’t be a jerk. We don’t need to get tangled in a web of words. We get stuck in knowing what to do with those culture bound ideas in the bible, things like levirate marriage and don’t plant two different kinds of seeds in one field. (Of course now it would have to be don’t plant GMO seeds and organic seeds in the same field.) What would we do with more?
Instead, we are shown compassion. Jesus shows compassion for the disciples and helps them get away to recharge. Jesus shows compassion for the people and teaches them many things. Jesus has compassion and feeds the people.
Best of all? Jesus shows blanket compassion. He didn’t make the disciples demonstrate that they’d met a quota for healing folks in order to help them get away. Jesus didn’t only feed those people who professed belief in him – especially proper, orthodox belief – before he let them have food. He saw needs for rest, education, and food, and he met those needs. He didn’t ask for credentials, creeds, proven need, and he sure didn’t ask about citizenship.
There is one saying of Jesus that I remember: Ask, and it will be given to you. Short and sweet. No conditions, no prevarications. So many of these grand theological concepts are short, sweet and easy. Then why are they so hard? Why do we as a society have such a problem with not being a jerk?
Jesus told some good stories, some interesting and puzzling parables. Most of his words need some explanation; they need to be put in a cultural context. The one thing that needs no explanation is his actions. He was kind. He was generous. He was nurturing and caring. Without exception, without requirements. He just did what he saw needed to be done. That’s graciousness. That’s compassion. That’s love.
May we all experience being the recipient of God’s gracious, unquestioning love. May we all be blessed to experience passing it on. Amen.
12 July 2015
Mark 6:14-29 Common English Bible
14 Herod the king heard about these things, because the name of Jesus had become well-known. Some were saying, “John the Baptist has been raised from the dead, and this is why miraculous powers are at work through him.” 15 Others were saying, “He is Elijah.” Still others were saying, “He is a prophet like one of the ancient prophets.” 16 But when Herod heard these rumors, he said, “John, whom I beheaded, has been raised to life.”
17 He said this because Herod himself had arranged to have John arrested and put in prison because of Herodias, the wife of Herod’s brother Philip. Herod had married her, 18 but John told Herod, “It’s against the law for you to marry your brother’s wife!” 19 So Herodias had it in for John. She wanted to kill him, but she couldn’t. 20 This was because Herod respected John. He regarded him as a righteous and holy person, so he protected him. John’s words greatly confused Herod, yet he enjoyed listening to him.
21 Finally, the time was right. It was on one of Herod’s birthdays, when he had prepared a feast for his high-ranking officials and military officers and Galilee’s leading residents. 22 Herod’s daughter Herodias[a] came in and danced, thrilling Herod and his dinner guests. The king said to the young woman, “Ask me whatever you wish, and I will give it to you.” 23 Then he swore to her, “Whatever you ask I will give to you, even as much as half of my kingdom.”
24 She left the banquet hall and said to her mother, “What should I ask for?”
“John the Baptist’s head,” Herodias replied.
25 Hurrying back to the ruler, she made her request: “I want you to give me John the Baptist’s head on a plate, right this minute.” 26 Although the king was upset, because of his solemn pledge and his guests, he didn’t want to refuse her. 27 So he ordered a guard to bring John’s head. The guard went to the prison, cut off John’s head, 28 brought his head on a plate, and gave it to the young woman, and she gave it to her mother. 29 When John’s disciples heard what had happened, they came and took his dead body and laid it in a tomb.
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, oh God, our rock and our redeemer. Amen.
Y’all know that I was a classics major in college. I’m sure you’ll be shocked when I tell you there weren’t that many of us. Less than a dozen. You could always tell who we were; we were the ones who walked around Grounds mumbling to ourselves. When we passed each other in the hallway, we’d mumble louder, in greeting.
But we weren’t totally uncool. We had our water-cooler show. All right, it was the BBC show from 1976, the series based on Robert Graves 1934 book I, Claudius. Because if you thought classics were dry and boring (Latin is a dead language: first it killed the Romans and now it’s killing me.), you should check out this historical fiction! Murder! Sex! Mayhem! Treachery! Deceit! It was awesome! Even better was that it was largely true.
Which brings us to today’s pericope, which reads more like Suetonius and less like a gospel. Actually, it reads more like a soap opera. Matthew recounts this episode in chapter 14, but it feels flat in comparison to Mark’s telling, which is kind of odd, too, as Mark is usually the briefest gospel. Luke leaves this story out completely. Why did Mark feel the need to include it, and so juicily, too? I’m still pondering that.
The first three verses are an introduction and sound a lot like the disciples’ answers to Jesus’ question, “Who do people say that I am?”, which is still ahead at the end of chapter 8: 14 Herod the king heard about these things, because the name of Jesus had become well-known. Some were saying, “John the Baptist has been raised from the dead, and this is why miraculous powers are at work through him.” 15 Others were saying, “He is Elijah.” Still others were saying, “He is a prophet like one of the ancient prophets.” 16 But when Herod heard these rumors, he said, “John, whom I beheaded, has been raised to life.”
It was 10 o’clock yesterday that I figured out that this would make a great radio play. You know, with the funky organ music for emphasis? Now we would hear the harp and see the wavy lines so we know we are having a flashback. (Can you think of any other bible stories told as a flashback? I couldn’t.)
Now we would hear Herod’s voice telling the story of how he had had John arrested and put in prison because Herod had pulled a fast one, breaking up his brother’s marriage and marrying his brother’s wife and John had had the temerity to call him out, telling him it was against the law.
A word from our sponsor—my question while studying this week: was Herod Jewish? I researched this one a bit, and the best answer I came up with is: sort of. Seems his mother was a Samaritan; close. His father’s family was from Idumea, and had converted to Judaism. Mostly, Herod claimed whatever faith was most politically expedient at the moment. (And now back to our show!)
Husband and wife were at loggerheads. Herodias wanted John dead, but Herod seemed to be afraid of John. He respected John as a righteous dude, and liked to listen to him, even though he didn’t always cotton on to what John meant. (At this moment, in my head, I started hearing Herod and Herodias having operatic arguments.)
But good things come to those who wait! No, um—Patience is a virtue? Okay, maybe not quite what the author of those words intended. But Herodias did wait, and finally an opportune moment arose, and she got her chance. Seems Herod threw himself a birthday bash, and he invited everyone who was anyone. Eating and drinking ensued. Lots of drinking.
What’s a party without some dancing? Herodias’ daughter, also called Herodias, or Salome, depending on the source, danced for the inebriated gathering. Herod was pleased. So pleased, in fact, that he promised her anything she could possibly want, up to half his kingdom.
Time for another word. It’s not like no one had ever made a stupid oath before. In the story in Judges 11 of Jephthah’s daughter, dad made an oath that he would sacrifice to God whatever first came out of his house to greet him after a military victory. Who was first out? His dog? A sheep? His only child! In Esther 5, King Xerxes made a similar promise to Queen Esther. Turned out she only wanted dinner.
About the daughter – the same Greek word is used for her as was used in just the last chapter to talk about Jairus’ daughter. I’m assuming they were of comparable age, 12 or 13. When Hollywood has gotten hold of this story, the dancer is Rita Hayworth. Not so much. Were there sexual overtones here or not? If there were, the dancer’s assumed young age makes this part a bit creepy.
So there’s Herod all drunk and bragging and promising the moon in front of his big donors. The girl runs off to find her mommy and figure out what she should ask for. A pony? A new dress? Herodias smiles that Joan Crawford smile and tells her: the head of John.
The girl goes running back to step-dad, embellishing on the way. On a platter. Immediately. And make it snappy!
Herod hears her through a wine flavored haze. You know in the movies when the action keeps going but the sound has stopped? Pretty sure Herod was experiencing that. His mouth went dry. His hands shook. We see Herodias peeking around a column, smiling, pleased with herself.
Herod looks around the room with dread. Slowly his buddies stop drinking and focus on his pale face. In response to an inquiry of how he’s feeling, he stands up, roars and throws his goblet. Now it really is quiet. All eyes are on him as he orders John’s execution. Herodias, smiling like the cat that ate the canary, slinks off.
Like I said, I wrestled with this text all week. There are other texts available. The RCL has two Hebrew bible pericopes, two Psalms and an epistle beside this. In fact, one of the commentators suggested preaching something, anything else. I couldn’t figure out what the good news was here.
What could we learn from this? Women are no good? Beware making oaths for you know not what? I’ll tell you one thing: as I’ve spent more time and more intense time studying the scriptures, I’ve come to appreciate more and more what good writers these guys were. These are not your What I did on my summer vacation essays. These authors made great use of rhetorical devices and didn’t waste a word. Everything pointed to something. Honestly? I have the best job in the world, and I hope each week I give you something to carry with you.
While this particular pericope strikes me as neither didactic nor hortatory – sorry. Sometimes I get carried away by the words. I couldn’t find that this chunk of text had anything direct to teach us or urge us to do or avoid. If it tells us anything directly, it’s that being zealous for God can get you killed.
I think that perhaps the biggest gain I had this week was learning that these writings can still surprise us. This story grabbed me and pulled me in. I was there, and Mark made me see the terror in Herod’s eyes and the grin on Herodias’ lips.
This is the only story in the gospels without Jesus at its center. It is also one of the few episodes attested to by extra-biblical literature, Josephus, to be exact. Josephus was a first century Jewish-Roman historian. His version of these events can be found in book 18 of his Jewish Antiquities:
In it, Josephus said that Herod killed John because he was nervous over the John's high level of political support in the region--"Eloquence that had so great an effect on the people might lead to some form of sedition," said Josephus.
Herod decided, therefore, that it would be much better to strike first and be rid of him before his work led to an uprising, than to wait for an upheaval, get involved in a difficult situation, and see his mistake. (Antiquities, 18, v. 2)
This story was important enough that Mark, Matthew and Josephus all told it. While perhaps as a stand alone story, it doesn’t say as much, it surely adds to our greater understanding of the complete picture of Jesus, John and the Romans. It’s an important part of the puzzle.
Our sacred texts are still opening up for us. Dare I say that God is still speaking? We still have much to learn and these texts have so much to offer. I’ve been studying them for a while now, with lesser or greater intensity. Seems like the more effort I put in, the more I get out. It’s a little amazing, really. A little humbling. Did they know, do you think, when they were writing these things down, that thousands of years later we’d still be reading them? Wrestling with them, cherishing them?
Someone once said that biblical interpretation is like an ever flowing stream, and we can add our little bits to that stream. The stream goes on. I hope that you find the little bits of that stream that I bring to be refreshing. Can’t wait to see what next week brings! Amen.
Pastoral prayer
Gracious God, you have breathed into us your creative, joyful Spirit. You have lifted us from the dust into the swirling joy of your presence. We are so grateful for all that you have done for us. Each day reminds us in many ways of your mercy and your love. Yet there are times in our lives when we have felt lost and alone. We have been hurt and frightened and wondered where you were. Remind us again of your loving presence. Place your hands of healing on our lives. Comfort us when we become afraid, lost, lonely, and fearful. Prepare us to serve you faithfully all our days.
There is so much going on in our world. We never run out of things to worry about. We can’t turn on the news without hearing of new ways we are hurting each other. With recent events in our country that make our society more liberal, we have witnessed severe backlashes of hate. We look forward to the day these abusive reactions will run out of steam and we can just be human beings, all made in your image.
We’re struggling here, God. Struggling to follow our convictions and do what we feel is right, informed by our understanding of you. Guide us. Help us to find and hold on to what is good and right. Care for us as we ride out the storms. Reassure us of your love not just for us, but for all people and the whole of creation.
Benediction
You know I’ve got this love/hate thing going with Paul, yeah? Sometimes, he just nails it. From the 4th chapter of Philippians:
4 Rejoice[c] in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice.[d] 5 Let your gentleness be known to everyone. The Lord is near. 6 Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. 7 And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Go in peace. Amen.
28 June 2015
21 When Jesus had crossed again in the boat[a] to the other side, a great crowd gathered around him; and he was by the sea. 22 Then one of the leaders of the synagogue named Jairus came and, when he saw him, fell at his feet 23 and begged him repeatedly, “My little daughter is at the point of death. Come and lay your hands on her, so that she may be made well, and live.” 24 So he went with him.
And a large crowd followed him and pressed in on him. 25 Now there was a woman who had been suffering from hemorrhages for twelve years. 26 She had endured much under many physicians, and had spent all that she had; and she was no better, but rather grew worse. 27 She had heard about Jesus, and came up behind him in the crowd and touched his cloak, 28 for she said, “If I but touch his clothes, I will be made well.” 29 Immediately her hemorrhage stopped; and she felt in her body that she was healed of her disease. 30 Immediately aware that power had gone forth from him, Jesus turned about in the crowd and said, “Who touched my clothes?” 31 And his disciples said to him, “You see the crowd pressing in on you; how can you say, ‘Who touched me?’” 32 He looked all around to see who had done it. 33 But the woman, knowing what had happened to her, came in fear and trembling, fell down before him, and told him the whole truth. 34 He said to her, “Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace, and be healed of your disease.”
35 While he was still speaking, some people came from the leader’s house to say, “Your daughter is dead. Why trouble the teacher any further?” 36 But overhearing[b] what they said, Jesus said to the leader of the synagogue, “Do not fear, only believe.” 37 He allowed no one to follow him except Peter, James, and John, the brother of James. 38 When they came to the house of the leader of the synagogue, he saw a commotion, people weeping and wailing loudly. 39 When he had entered, he said to them, “Why do you make a commotion and weep? The child is not dead but sleeping.” 40 And they laughed at him. Then he put them all outside, and took the child’s father and mother and those who were with him, and went in where the child was. 41 He took her by the hand and said to her, “Talitha cum,” which means, “Little girl, get up!” 42 And immediately the girl got up and began to walk about (she was twelve years of age). At this they were overcome with amazement. 43 He strictly ordered them that no one should know this, and told them to give her something to eat.
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, oh God, our rock and our redeemer. Amen.
Long pericope. Short introduction… I read the NRSV translation aloud just now. I’ve always held that the NRSV gives you the best bang for your translation buck. It is pretty good, but there are several slight changes I’ll make today. (Yes, that means we’ll be going over it again.)
I started studying Latin for several reasons, the biggest being to improve my English. An unexpected side effect kicked in: I found that I love being able to read in the original language! On January 27, 1800, Thomas Jefferson wrote: To read the Latin and Greek authors in their original, is a sublime luxury… I enjoy Homer in his own language infinitely beyond Pope's translation of him... I thank on my knees, him who directed my early education, for having put into my possession this rich source of delight. (Letter to Dr. Joseph Priestley)
This week I spent a lot of time in Greekland. It is amazing the nuances, some of which are not without theological significance, you can pick up in the original. With thanks to my buddy, D. Mark Davis, let’s go for a ride!
In the first verse, 21 When Jesus had crossed again in the boat[a] to the other side, a great crowd gathered around him; and he was by the sea. If you remember last week’s installment, Jesus crossed the lake, over to the gentile side. He threw some demons out of a guy, and now he’s back. The first note I will offer is about the crowd gathered around him. The Greek verb, συνήχθη, has a bit more impact than gather. Some meanings include: to constrain, to compress 2a) to press together with the hand 2a) to hold one's ears, to shut the heavens that it may not rain 2b) to press on every side 2b1) of a besieged city 2b2) of a strait, that forces a ship into a narrow channel 2b3) of a cattle squeeze, that pushing in on each side, forcing the beast into a position where it cannot move so the farmer can administer medication. It’s far more vivid than gather. It’s almost claustrophobic.
The next couple verses: 22 Then one of the leaders of the synagogue named Jairus came and, when he saw him, fell at his feet 23 and begged him repeatedly, “My little daughter is at the point of death. Come and lay your hands on her, so that she may be made well, and live.” 24 So he went with him. A leader of the synagogue – he wasn’t a priest or Levite; he was probably an upstanding, regular attender, someone with standing in the community. (B)egged him repeatedly. Yes. This verb is imperfect, which has the force of repeated action. This is a desperate man. He wouldn’t let Jesus go, but kept repeating his request, begging, and Jesus granted it.
Again in verse 24 we are told of the crowd pressing in all around.
Verses 25-27 are one big, long sentence. The actual main verb doesn’t show up til verse 27 – she grabbed his clothes. What she most likely touched was the fringe of his tallit, his prayer shawl. But she grabbed it, in desperation, just like Jairus. Immediately she knew she was healed.
Just as immediately, Jesus sensed his power, in effect, stolen. He turned round and demanded to know who grabbed his garment. Remember the crowd. People not just following him at a discrete distance, but pressing in on him from all sides. It must have been quite a commotion! But this was different than being bumped and jostled; someone had touched him with intent. Someone had stolen his power, and he wanted them to ‘fess up!
The disciples answer Jesus with, well, a little bit of attitude. Seems they forgot that just the other day this guy had owned the elements. Now they have the chutzpah to give Jesus lip? Seriously, anyone who can control the wind probably has a handle on what’s going on in this crowd.
Verse 32- this is one of my favorites, where a little Greek goes a long way. The NRSV says Jesus looked around. And so he did. The Greek also intimates that he was, well, glaring. Jesus was perturbed, or at least he gave that impression. You know, he gave The Look. (I had this teacher once…)
The second gem from the Greek in this verse is that the one who had done it is feminine. Jesus was looking for a woman, quite possibly this woman. Puts a different spin on this, yeah? Why did Jesus want or need her to step forward?
Verse 33 tells us about the fearful and trembling woman. I’d be scared, too, if I had not only just stolen this guy’s juju, but he knew! How did he know? And now he’s on the warpath. Uh oh. But she faces the music and tells the whole truth.
Then Jesus says, “Oh, okay. Now you are not only healed physically, but now you have been made whole. Depart in peace.” Oh, and he calls her daughter. Jesus claims relationship with her. Not only is she well and whole, she is no longer alone.
Back to Jairus. While all this has been going on, his daughter has died. Don’t blame the woman. If his kid was that close to death, she was going to die anyhow. And why did he wait so long to come to Jesus? Had he, like the woman (who probably took the first opportunity presented her) exhausted all other options before resorting to this, this, itinerant young upstart?
The thing about this verse is that we are told she is “quite dead.” Not mostly dead. Not nearly dead, but, she is, to quote Arlen and Harburg: morally, ethic'lly, Spiritually, physically, Positively, absolutely, Undeniably and reliably Dead (And she's not only merely dead, she's really most sincerely dead.) As a doornail. So why bother this guy?
But Jesus tells Jairus not to fear, only believe.
The three chosen disciples, James, John and Peter, Jesus and Jairus arrive at a house already rife with mourners. Except this isn’t Aunty Doris and Uncle John. These were professional mourners. Plus this was for the untimely death of a child of a pillar of the community. These folks brought their best game.
Jesus, being Jesus, asks why they mourn, because she is only sleeping. This went over like a lead balloon. They laugh at him. They deride him. They make fun of him. There’s probably catcalls and rude gestures. And they keep doing it. No let up. So what does Jesus do? He throws the bums out! All of them. No messing around.
Then he gets down to business. Taking mom and dad and the three, they go see the girl. Mom and dad are holding tightly to each other, trying not to cry, daring to hope that this fella they’ve heard so much about can do something, anything to bring their precious child back to them.
Jesus and the disciples circle the bed. Jesus takes her hand. The disciples lean forward a mite, holding their breath. Jesus strokes her hair, her face. He gently whispers for her to get up. Know what happens? She does! Immediately. Starts pacing around the room, getting the kinks out. Mom and dad rush over to embrace her. Jesus warns everybody not to say anything, but I’m not sure they heard, through their shouts of joy.
I’m always puzzled about the injunction to feed her. Why? To prove she wasn’t a ghost, like after Jesus’ resurrection? Or maybe getting resurrected was fearsome, hungry work. Or maybe it was something to keep mom busy and give the kid a chance to breathe.
Wow! What a scripture reading! There’s everything in here but the kitchen sink. Actually, there’s more in there, but I want to save some things for the next time this pericope comes up. All that was interesting, but what’s the heart of it? How can these stories touch our lives today?
Heart is the key. At Wednesday night bible study, my buddy Fred jokingly told me to get out of my head and into my heart because that’s where G_d lives. (Yes, we were talking about this text.) Fred’s a pretty insightful guy. He knows how much I live between my ears. I kept thinking about his comment all night. Then, in the morning, I finally understood.
The heart is the key. Faith comes from the heart, not from your head. In fact, I think that thinking too much is where disbelief comes from. I can talk myself out of anything. Know what I mean? When something goes bump in the night, what do we do? We talk ourselves out of (what we hope is) irrational fear. Well, unless a redwood has just crashed through your roof. That’s pretty rational.
We have a woman who has an affliction that’s lasted 12 years. 12 years! She’s spent all that she had on doctors and probably some snake oil, grasping at anything that might help. She hears about this new fella going around healing people, and when she finds out he’s coming to her town, she can’t wait to see him! But there’s a huge crowd, all around him. How will she ever get his attention among so many? Everybody wants something from him! She’s got to get to him, somehow. She knows deep in her soul that this is the one who can heal her. She’ll never get his attention. But maybe she doesn’t need that—if she can just touch his clothes…
She believed in Jesus and God’s restorative power. It was all she needed. She was healed.
Then came Jesus demand, to know who stole his power. When she confessed to him, he said it was her faith that had done the trick. Not her thoughts. Her faith. Her heart.
Jairus. I’m guessing his daughter had been sick for a much shorter time. I’m also guessing that Jesus wasn’t first on his list of options. He did wait til she was at death’s door to try Jesus. Or perhaps he had wanted to come to Jesus before, but friends had talked him out of it. “What would it look like? You – a leader in the community and the synagogue – asking this upstart for help?” So he tried everything else, until he couldn’t wait anymore. Then, in the faith that sometimes only comes with desperation, he came to Jesus.
The head people – the logical ones – were at his house, too. They made fun of Jesus. They thought it couldn’t be done. But: Faith is believing when common sense tells you not to. While Jesus is throwing those negative influences out, Jairus, like little Susan in the back seat of the car, kept repeating: I believe... I believe... It's silly, but I believe. And he did. And Jesus did it, raised his daughter from the dead.
Back in my early days in AA, one of my buddies once said, “My mind is a dangerous neighborhood, and I should never go there alone.” My mind. It’s dangerous. It can talk me into or out of lots of things. Thanks for not letting me go there alone, Fred! But my heart? That’s where faith lives. That’s where God lives.
May we each be blessed with the certainty of God in our hearts! Hallelujah, and amen!
Pastoral prayer
Good morning, God! Sometimes it feels as if we pray and pray and pray and never get your attention. Then we have weeks like this one! Last week we told you we were tired and discouraged. This week you gave us the Affordable Care Act and marriage equality.
We are still mourning our brothers and sisters who were killed by hatred in Charleston. There does seem to be a glimmer of hope, though, that the door is open for real change to happen now. Help us not to take our eyes off the prize. Give us the energy, will and enthusiasm to see this opportunity through. Help us to bridge gaps, negate hate and erase racism. Help us to make this the crack where your love can flow in.
We rejoice with all who rejoice today, but we are mindful of the many different opinions surrounding the happenings of this week. Help us engage in fruitful and respectful discussions. Help us to see each other as your beloved children.
As our denominational leaders and representatives meet together in Cleveland, bless their time. We feel we have been blessed with vision throughout the years. Help us to continue to bring your kingdom about here on earth.
Benediction
Head and heart. They are both good. God gave us brains to think with. God also gave us hearts to love with and believe with. Hopefully, our heads enhance our hearts. And hopefully, when our heads take over, we keep good friends in our hearts to bring us back to what matters most: love and faith. Go in peace. Amen.
Mark 6:1-13Common English Bible
6 Jesus left that place and came to his hometown. His disciples followed him. 2 On the Sabbath, he began to teach in the synagogue. Many who heard him were surprised. “Where did this man get all this? What’s this wisdom he’s been given? What deeds of power are being done by his hands! 3 Isn’t this the carpenter? Isn’t he Mary’s son and the brother of James, Joses, Judas, and Simon? Aren’t his sisters here with us?” They were scandalized by him.
4 Jesus said to them, “Prophets are honored everywhere except in their own hometowns, among their relatives, and in their own households.” 5 He was unable to do any miracles there, except that he placed his hands on a few sick people and healed them. 6 He was appalled by their disbelief.
Then Jesus traveled through the surrounding villages teaching.
7 He called for the Twelve and sent them out in pairs. He gave them authority over unclean spirits. 8 He instructed them to take nothing for the journey except a walking stick—no bread, no bags, and no money in their belts. 9 He told them to wear sandals but not to put on two shirts. 10 He said, “Whatever house you enter, remain there until you leave that place. 11 If a place doesn’t welcome you or listen to you, as you leave, shake the dust off your feet as a witness against them.” 12 So they went out and proclaimed that people should change their hearts and lives. 13 They cast out many demons, and they anointed many sick people with olive oil and healed them.
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, oh God, our rock and our redeemer. Amen.
We’re going to start out with a little guessing game today. You ready? What do all these people have in common? What do all these people have in common: Al Jarreau, Liberace, Alfred Lunt, Les Paul, William Rehnquist, Spencer Tracy, Gene Wilder, Colin Kaepernick, and me? Technically, I guess you could leave off Les Paul, if that helps. Kurt, I know you have this one. No spoilers!
All these folks were born in and around Milwaukee. Les Paul was born in Waukesha, a few miles west of Milwaukee. But, yup, we all know what a bubbler is. We all have the same hometown. Know what happens if we go back? (Okay. 5 of the 9 are dead, but you know what I mean!) Generally, we’d be received with wild enthusiasm. I guess for Kaep, it depends on what kind of season he’s had. But even I would be greeted with warm smiles, a slap on the back and a “Hey! Good to see you! How ya doing?”
Know what Jesus got when he went back to his hometown? In Luke’s version of this story, they tried to throw him off a cliff. Not exactly what you’d call a warm reception.
They didn’t have the internet back then, but surely Jesus’ reputation preceded him. Jesus, who stilled the storm. Jesus, who cast out demons. Jesus, who healed many people. Jesus, who raised the dead! In fact, we know his reputation preceded him, because of that story where his family tried to get him to come along home quietly. Gossip, I mean, news of Jesus was making the rounds.
No one should have been surprised when he started teaching in the synagogue that Sabbath. I imagine the old timers sat back and got ready to give the poor guy a chance, possibly anticipating he’d make a fool of himself. Jesus astonished everyone, though, by his wise, powerful and insightful words. Soon the same elders of the community were asking themselves and each other: “Where did this man get all this? What’s this wisdom he’s been given? What deeds of power are being done by his hands! 3 Isn’t this the carpenter? Isn’t he Mary’s son and the brother of James, Joses, Judas, and Simon? Aren’t his sisters here with us?”
It seems they started out kind of impressed, but then they realized that this was little Josh. Remember when he skinned his knee? Remember his first attempt at building shelves? Man, those were bad! Never good at sums, either. Good thing he hit the road. He’d never make it as a carpenter. The more they talked, the more embarrassing, awful stuff they came up with.
Doesn’t matter how accomplished you become. When you go home you’re still that same, awkward kid. Take this guy, for example—he is a Professor of Geography and Environmental Planning. Got his BA, University of Minnesota; MS, PhD, from Penn State. His major research interests are historical geography and military geography, especially the military geography of conflicts in the period from 1790 to 1918. He has presented papers on the Military Geography of Mid-Nineteenth Century Revolutions and Rebellions at the Biennial Meeting of International Conference for Military Geosciences, in Edinburgh, Scotland, Spring 2013, on the Geography of Desert Warfare in North Africa, 1940-1943 at International Conference for Military Geosciences, Desert Research Institute, Las Vegas, Nevada, and is the co-principal investigator on a research project using Geographic Information Systems to investigate the geographic distribution of foster children. He is a former President, Military Geography Specialty Group, Association of American Geographers. He teaches courses in Environmental Geography, Computer Mapping, Geographic Information Systems and its applications.
Pretty impressive, huh? Would it make any difference if I told you when he comes to church, he and his wife sit right over there? Actually, when I look at his list of accomplishments, it is pretty impressive. Probably be more so if I didn’t also call him brother. I knew him when…
All these thoughts are going through the elders who were at the synagogue that day. Isn’t this the snot nosed kid who cried a lot? Now here he is, trying to tell us what’s what? Who does he think he is?
You know how we always say that America is the land of opportunity? You can grow up to be anything you want: writer, astronaut, president, minister. (Just one side trip to Greekland—the word translated as carpenter is teknos. It can mean anyone who builds.) My dad was a teknos, an electrician and jack of all trades. Both my grandfathers were teknoi, one a gem cutter, my dad’s dad a blacksmith and jack of all trades. I used to be a tekna, a sheet metal worker and jack of all trades. Then I got an education, and now I teach in the synagogue on the Sabbath. But I changed my station. All us kids did; we are now a professor, an IT specialist, and my sister was a doctor. But we all started out with blue collar jobs, usually to put us through school.
Didn’t work that way in ancient Israel. What you were born, you stayed. (One of the more mind boggling things, for me, anyhow, that I read this week was that Jesus was most likely illiterate.) Jesus on the road, he was a rock star. He was a healer and preacher extraordinaire. He did mighty works with those hands. At home, in Nazareth? He’s just this guy, this carpenter, whose hands are nothing out of the ordinary. He never had any special training. Yet here he comes, and he’s telling us about the kingdom of God? Have you forgotten who you are, kid? We haven’t!
So we hear that Jesus isn’t able to do anything, oh, except he healed a few people. (I’d like to have a bad day like Jesus!) The folks of the town, like Pharaoh of old, have hardened their hearts. I guess it was an object lesson for the disciples: you are not going to be loved everywhere you go. Jesus, having taught the disciples, sends them into the breach. Now they know what success and failure both look like. Jesus tells them not to waste their precious resources on places that reject them and their message, but tells them to shake the dust off and get the lead out.
I always assumed that faith plays some part in healings. Both folks last week, it seems faith had lots to do with it. Kit, you asked me last week how these stories make me feel. Me, who would definitely go running – okay, limping slowly - to Jesus for healing were it possible. What do these stories say about my faith? Yeah, I’ve always taken it that I somehow lack the appropriate measure of faith. I am found wanting.
I was a bit relieved, then, this week when I read this in a commentary by Brian Stoffregen, a Lutheran pastor in AZ:
Faith is not mentioned in most of the miracles in Mark. One could also do a brief review of "prayer" and miracles. Sometimes the healed asked for healing, sometimes they did not. Divine miracles are not under our control, either by our faith or by our prayers. They come from the will and power of God.
That’s a relief! Maybe I’m not such a loser after all! Divine miracles are not under our control. They come from the will and power of God.
What does this mean for our faith and our prayer life? I’m so confused. On the one hand, we are saved through grace alone. All have sinned and come short of the glory of God, as Paul says in Romans 3:23. It is through no virtue of our own that God has invited us to be part of the Kingdom. Sola gratia!
Yet last week’s stories and this week’s story seems to point to faith having something to do with the whole nine yards. Jesus even chided those rascally disciples (whom he’s now sending out into the big wide world) about their lack of faith. What gives?
Another contemporary commentator I like a lot, David Lose (another Lutheran?), had this to say:
But what if what's at stake here isn't a matter of God's ultimate purposes or our eternal destinies. After all, it's not like Jesus couldn't do anything there. I mean, I'm sure the people he healed were glad of his miraculous ministrations. What if, rather, Mark is simply inviting us to contemplate the possibility that we have actually have something to do, that we have an important role to play in the manifestation of the kingdom. To say it another way: this isn't about salvation, it's about the role each one of us is invited to play in sensing, experiencing, and making known God's will and work in the world.
I would also add making God’s love known in the world.
How about that? We don’t have to worry about salvation; God’s got that. We are, however, invited to help bring God’s kingdom into greater fruition, here on earth. Thy kingdom come, on earth as it is in heaven. We are invited not only to participate and be in the kingdom, we are invited to be God’s partners in enlarging the kingdom, so that it enfolds and cradles the whole world and everything in it. God invites us to be partners in creation! How cool is that?
When we look around at our world, what do we see that could use God’s creative touch? We definitely need to advocate for and take better care of God’s creation. Little things, like recycling and driving less, along with big things, like protecting rainforests, are all necessary acts for being partners in creation. We need to advocate for all God’s creatures, large and small, wild and domestic.
Speaking of all God’s creatures, we are our brother’s (and sister’s) keepers. What you have done for the least of these… It doesn’t matter the color, creed, national origin – wait, what does it say on the back of the bully?
The Guerneville Community Church is an open and affirming congregation of the United Church of Christ. We believe that God brings us together in worship and that our community of faith knows some measure of God’s grace, compassion, mercy, justice, and peace. It is our desire to share these gifts of God with you, regardless of your age, race, marital status, physical condition, sexual orientation, ethnic or economic background.
We need to add gender identity, but that pretty much covers it. Whenever anyone needs help, we have been authorized to assist. Sometimes helping is complex and possibly costly and sometimes it’s as easy as saying yes. God has given us the green light.
It’s easy to become overwhelmed by the needs of this world. Know what’s even easier? Saying yes to God and opening the doors to the possibility of true healing, true equity and true peace. May God help us get to yes! Hallelujah, and amen.
Pastoral Prayer
God of sojourners, we give you thanks for this country of ours. We are a country of immigrants, only a very small minority of people being truly native. Whether it is we ourselves who came, our parents, or folks way back when, we were all either running from or searching for - running from war and persecution, searching for greater economic opportunity. On these shores, we have been safe.
Help us to recognize ourselves in today’s immigrants. Help us to give over a bit and make room. Help us to lend a hand and welcoming smile, as we would like to be greeted. We realize this hasn’t always been the way, with foreigners treated as dangerous, and anyone different was met with suspicion.
Help us to be our better selves. Help us to better reflect your grace and mercy to all around us. Help us to be your true partners in creation, caring for all.
Thank you for giving us space in which we can be free to pursue our dreams, our ambitions, our heart’s desires. We are a country divided on many issues. Help us to treat with respect those with whom we disagree. Give us the courage to stand with those who are still oppressed. Protect those who cannot protect themselves.
We are far from perfect here in America. We are still having growing pains. Help us to grow into individuals and communities of which you can be proud.
Benediction
It’s been a crazy couple of weeks. A lot has changed in our country, maybe even in ourselves. The only constant is change, right? But one thing, one thing, never changes. It’s like a picture in a frame. God loves us, each and every one of us. Hallelujah, and amen!
21 June 2015
Mark 4:35 On that day, when evening had come, Jesus said to them, “Let us go across to the other side.” 36 And leaving the crowd behind, they took him with them in the boat, just as he was. Other boats were with him. 37 A great windstorm arose, and the waves beat into the boat, so that the boat was already being swamped. 38 But he was in the stern, asleep on the cushion; and they woke him up and said to him, “Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?” 39 He woke up and rebuked the wind, and said to the sea, “Peace! Be stilled!” Then the wind ceased, and there was a dead calm. 40 He said to them, “Why are you afraid? Have you no faith?” 41 And they feared a great fear and said to one another, “Who in the world is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?”
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, oh God, our rock and our redeemer. Amen.
I… have no life plan. I am the poster child for what happens when you have no plan. It took me til age 50 to get the job I really wanted. Not saying it hasn’t been an interesting life; it’s been quite the ride. I’ve worked construction, in music publishing, retail, at an amusement park and a library, a hospital, and now finally find myself here with you.
My epitaph used to be, “I’ve felt this way before.” As a sober person, that doesn’t apply so much. From my dad, I inherited the ability to understand maps and blueprints very well. Dad could find the best and most interesting routes between two places! Milwaukee is a city of over 1,000,000 people and has an extensive freeway system. Dad avoided it. Because I inherited this trait, my life has been so much richer! I found the 9th Street egrets this way. I’m sort of an It’s-all-about-the-journey kind of person. Now my epitaph is, “Now it really IS about the destination!”
Journeys. The bible is full of them. Stories start out with God saying , “Lek leka!” Get going! So often the phrase might as well be Once upon a time. Everybody traveled. They went to Egypt, went to find a wife, fled a brother or Pharaoh or famine, wander in the wilderness, or went into exile. The book of Acts traces the first mission trips of Peter and Paul. I’m surprised we never saw Bing and Bob and Dorothy Lamour along for the ride. The gospels are largely Jesus wandering around and teaching and healing.
Today Mark gives us another journey, in just six packed verses. Jesus wants to go to the other side of the Sea of Galilee, which has a circumference of 33 miles (8x13 miles), so boating across it is preferable to walking around it. However, because of the topography, it is prone to storms. I got this explanation from Christananswers.net:
Such storms result from differences in temperatures between the seacoast and the mountains beyond. The Sea of Galilee lies 680 feet below sea level. It is bounded by hills, especially on the east side where they reach 2000 feet high. These heights are a source of cool, dry air.
In contrast, directly around the sea, the climate is semi-tropical with warm, moist air. The large difference in height between surrounding land and the sea causes large temperature and pressure changes. This results in strong winds dropping to the sea, funneling through the hills. (venturi)
The Sea of Galilee is small, and these winds may descend directly to the center of the lake with violent results. When the contrasting air masses meet, a storm can arise quickly and without warning. Small boats caught out on the sea are in immediate danger.
What do you think it was like? We know that four of the disciples – Peter, James, John, and Andrew – were fishermen with lots of experience on that lake, and that at least sometimes they fished all night. They weren’t unaware of the vicissitudes of the lake.
Jesus had been in a boat most of the day, teaching. They had probably had dinner on the shore, maybe fish (tilapia), and were probably looking forward to relaxing around the fire, talking, singing, sleeping under the stars. Contentment. But now Jesus wants, like a chicken, to get to the other side. With a wee bit of grumbling, nine land lubbers and four experienced guys get in a boat, or boats. We hear there was more than one boat on the lake that evening. The boats were in the neighborhood of 30’ long and 7-8’ wide and about four feet or so deep. Fishing boats would have a sail as well as about four oars.
I wish I had a Way-back machine! I wouldn’t fancy getting wet and seasick. But if we were able to eavesdrop on a couple of disciples, say, maybe, Andrew, a seasoned sailor, and Philip, also known as the Troublemaker, what might we hear?
I bet Philip was grumbling. “Why does he have to go now? We just had dinner. What’s wrong with relaxing a little? And I just don’t like this lake! I’ve heard stories…”
Andrew was rolling his eyes, trying to get the boat ready and folks settled. “Just get in and hang on, would ya? Bunch of old wives’ tales.”
“You sure I can’t walk around and meet you tomorrow night?”
Andrew sighs impatiently and points to the empty seat next to his. Jesus settles in the back of the boat, sort of curled up.
The fellas push the boat out a ways, clamber aboard, and hoist the sail. Once they are underway, Andrew sits down. It appears that Jesus is, what? Sleeping?
About a quarter of the way across, the breeze picks up. Philip, sensitive to the change, well, any change, really, starts looking around. He also starts looking a little green as the waters get a might choppy. He looks at Jesus, who’s sleeping soundly. He looks back at Andrew.
“Think we should wake him up?” asks Philip the Troublemaker.
Andrew plays with a rope for a moment before responding. “Nah. Wind always picks up this time of day.”
A few minutes later, the waves are starting to splash over the edge of the boat. Another minute and the waves are tossing the boat and starting to fill the bottom. The sailors have swung into action mode and struck the sail. The boat is filling so rapidly that buckets are handed out.
“What about – huhn – now? Should we wake him now?” whined the Troublemaker between buckets.
“No!” shouted Andrew, in order to be heard above the increasing gale. “I’ve seen way worse, ye faint of heart.”
“What was that?”
“What?”
“Over there, in the water! I saw Leviathan!” The Troublemaker turns white beneath the green.
“Oh, for Elijah’s sake! There is nothing there! You are seeing things. Keep bailing!”
The wind is whipping up the waves pretty good now, giving them quite the ride. Several times the boat was almost stood straight up by the waves. Philip would like to be sick, but that would require letting go.
Philip is past caring what Andrew thinks. He slowly and carefully works his way over to Jesus and starts yelling: “Jesus! Wake up! We’re dying over here! Wake up! Wake up, wake up! Wakeupwakeupwakeup!”
Jesus stirs, eventually rubbing a sleepy eye. He takes in what’s happening. Without fully sitting up, he tells the wind to knock it off and the waves to be stilled. Or was he talking to Philip just there?
Just like that, the wind and the waves just… stop.
One of the disciples, who had been leaning into an oncoming wave, fell overboard when the boat stopped rolling. As the others dragged him back aboard, Jesus looked at the bedraggled crew.
“Why are you afraid? Have you no faith?” With that, he curled back up.
The lake was smooth as glass. The disciples just sat, looking. Someone looked up and saw the numberless stars. Slowly, they managed to catch their breath.
Then it hit them.
Jesus, their Jesus, their beloved teacher whom they been following and watching him heal and throw out demons – their Jesus had just controlled the elements. I mean, sure, the healings were cool. But he wasn’t the only person who could cleanse lepers. Why do you think there were laws for what they should do after they’d been cleansed? There were others able to cast out demons (although some people said they were great, big fakers and frauds). But this? This was something else again.
“Who in the world is this guy?”
They looked at Jesus as he lay asleep in the stern, a little drool sneaking out the corner of his mouth. They looked at him like they hadn’t seen him before.
After a minute, Peter broke out the oars. Andrew pointedly gave one to Philip.
“Huh? What do you mean, row? Isn’t this a sailboat?”
Andrew licked his finger and held it up. “Do you feel any wind?”
This is an amazing story. It’s got action, and people in distress and the hero who saves them. But what does it have to do with us, today? Let’s look at just one thing. Why did Jesus ask them “Why are you afraid? Have you no faith?” The way I see it, it’s one of three things: They woke him too soon, too late, or at all.
First, that they woke him at all. Jesus has requested a trip across the lake from his fishermen buddies. He trusts them; they’ve done this all their lives. So he’s tired and falls asleep after getting in the boat. He knows they can handle just about anything out here. I think he is showing trust and faith in his buddies more than in God. Is he puzzled and maybe a bit disappointed that they woke him for something as commonplace as a storm.
Secondly, maybe they woke him too soon. Maybe the worst was already over and they showed they had no faith in themselves. If they had held out five minutes more, perhaps the storm would have dissipated. Did they fall back on their Jesus crutch too soon?
Or, lastly, did they wake Jesus too late? Had they put too much stock in their own abilities to handle things by themselves? Should they have woken Jesus at the first sign of trouble? Did they wait too late, until the only way out of the situation was a miracle?
Any of these could be true, but I know which one is true for me. I’m a wait too late kinda gal. I keep trying to prove I’m a big girl and can handle things on my own. Then I wonder why I’m overwhelmed and overloaded. I’m so far under the heap that I can’t find my way out. God is my last resort, when I’ve run out of all other options. When I’ve got nowhere left to turn, that’s when I turn to God.
Jesus would be correct in questioning my faith at those points. If I did have a true, working faith, wouldn’t I be sharing my burden with God a lot earlier, letting God guide me instead of waiting until God has no choice but to still my storms? And, of course, being human, I do this same thing, over and over, repeatedly, redundantly. Each time I say I’ve learned, but…
It kind of makes me wonder what they left behind, on the shore, beside the crowd. Might they have had bigger trouble than the storm?
May we learn to call on God for whatever and whenever we need. It’s true that nothing is too big for God, but we could probably save ourselves a lot of needless stress and heartache if we’d learn to call God sooner! Hallelujah, and amen.
Friday was Juneteenth. It marks 150 years since the last pocket of slavery in America was freed by Union troops in Galveston, Texas—a date still celebrated by many today. Also on this date in 1862 the United States Congress outlawed slavery which nullified the Dred Scott v. Sandford decision. Also, on this date the Civil Rights Act of 1964 finally passed after an 83 day filibuster in the United States Senate.
God, we are tired. I know we usually start out by addressing you as merciful and loving God, or gracious and caring God, but today, we’re tired. We are tired of all the violence and brutality. We are tired of the killing and shooting, always in the name of some cause, often in your name.
We are tired and we don’t understand. What can possibly cause anyone to think they have the right to take a life like it belonged to them? Don’t they know that all lives belong to you?
We are tired and we are confused. What can we do? What are we supposed to do? How can we help? The problems seems so huge and we are so small.
We are tired and we are scared. No offense, but it kind of feels like you are falling down on the job, God. Like you are asleep at the wheel, or worse yet, like you just don’t care. Don’t leave us on our own! It’s pretty obvious that we humans aren’t doing such a good job of things. We are killing each other and showing very little care for the rest of your creation. We need you now more than ever.
We are tired but we are hopeful. We have all these wonderful and amazing stories of how you have worked throughout history. We know you are still speaking, and trust you are still acting, too.
We are tired, but we are trusting. Trusting that you will be here, just like you always have, to catch us when we fall, to comfort us in our distress, and to see us through as we make this journey.
God, we are all these things and more: tired, trusting, confused, hopeful, and scared. While we are a giant mix of emotions, we are also certain. Certain of your steadfast love, mercy and grace. We would ask that you never leave us, but we know we don’t have to, because you never will.
Benediction
Sometimes the news makes us afraid to turn on the tv or open the paper. But know this, deep down in your bones: God is with us, every step of the way. Go in peace. Amen.
7 June 2015
Mark 3:20-35
3:20 and the crowd came together again, so that they could not even eat.
3:21 When his family heard it, they went out to restrain him, for people were saying, "He has gone out of his mind."
3:22 And the scribes who came down from Jerusalem said, "He has Beelzebul, and by the ruler of the demons he casts out demons."
3:23 And he called them to him, and spoke to them in parables, "How can Satan cast out Satan? 3:24 If a kingdom is divided against itself, that kingdom cannot stand.
3:25 And if a house is divided against itself, that house will not be able to stand.
3:26 And if Satan has risen up against himself and is divided, he cannot stand, but his end has come. 3:27 But no one can enter a strong man's house and plunder his property without first tying up the strong man; then indeed the house can be plundered.
3:28 "Truly I tell you, people will be forgiven for their sins and whatever blasphemies they utter; 3:29 but whoever blasphemes against the Holy Spirit can never have forgiveness, but is guilty of an eternal sin"-- 3:30 for they had said, "He has an unclean spirit." 3:31 Then his mother and his brothers came; and standing outside, they sent to him and called him. 3:32 A crowd was sitting around him; and they said to him, "Your mother and your brothers and sisters are outside, asking for you." 3:33 And he replied, "Who are my mother and my brothers?" 3:34 And looking at those who sat around him, he said, "Here are my mother and my brothers! 3:35 Whoever does the will of God is my brother and sister and mother."
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, oh God, our rock and our redeemer. Amen.
Way in the wayback when I was in college, I took Sociology 101. Great prof, great class. One day, we had a guest lecturer. He started out by talking bout this guy he knew. He’d lent him large sums of money, which were never repaid. The guy was rude, a slob, and couldn’t return a phone call to save his life. And now, to top it all off, this idiot wanted to borrow more money. The lecturer surprised us all when he said he was going to give it, knowing he’d never see it again. Why? Because the slob was his brother.
Back about ten years ago (which would have made me about 40), we kids descended on my mom’s house for one last Christmas together. What is it? Is it being back in your childhood home? Is it being surrounded by siblings? Is it mom still at you about the same old things, like take out the garbage and turn out the light? Whatever it was, I think my average age for the entire week was 12.
Maybe you’ve seen this phenomenon in movies. One of my favorites from a few years back is Home for the Holidays. Uptight sister, oblivious father, controlling mother, seriously annoying brother, with our protagonist just trying to make it through the weekend.
Families. There’s just something about them, ain’a? Every single one is odd in its own, special way. Thus the pictures on the front of today’s bulletin. We have June, Ward, Wally and Beaver Cleaver on one side, with Gomez, Morticia, Wednesday, Pugsly, Granny, Lurch and Thing on the other. Admittedly, one of these charmingly quirky families is a bit weird, I mean, odder than the other. You just know June was putting something in those cookies!
Today we get a little nugget about Jesus’ family. Just a couple, little enticing lines. Let’s read those couple verses again: 3:20 and the crowd came together again, so that they could not even eat. 3:21 When his family heard it, they went out to restrain him, for people were saying, "He has gone out of his mind." 3:31 Then his mother and his brothers came; and standing outside, they sent to him and called him. 3:32 A crowd was sitting around him; and they said to him, "Your mother and your brothers and sisters are outside, asking for you." 3:33 And he replied, "Who are my mother and my brothers?" 3:34 And looking at those who sat around him, he said, "Here are my mother and my brothers! 3:35 Whoever does the will of God is my brother and sister and mother."
Actually, in the Greek, it doesn’t say family. It says those who were close to him. But family is a good interpretation. Folks who cared about him. The truly ambiguous thing about that verse, though, is who it was that was saying that Jesus out of his mind, or, literally, beside himself. (It’s the Greek word that gives us ecstatic.) All we get is a 3rd person plural with no clear antecedent for those who were saying. “They” were saying. You know how “they” can talk.
One of my favorite commentators, David J. Lose, puts it like this:
Why is Jesus getting so much flack? I mean, we’re into just the third chapter in Mark and already he’s got the crowds wondering about him, his family afraid for him (and maybe of him!), and the religious leaders against him. And all he’s done so far is announce the coming kingdom of God, call some disciples, cast out a demon or two, and heal a bunch of sick people. Of course, one of those disciples was a tax collector, he cast out the demon and did much of his healing work on the Sabbath, and he wasn’t put off in the least when approached by a leper.
Jesus is healing, and that’s okay. He’s casting out demons, and that’s okay. He’s preaching, that’s okay. Or maybe they would be okay if he just picked one of those activities and stuck to it, didn’t do it more and more effectively than the people who were supposed to be doing it. Basically, he’s not following the rules. He’s going to get himself in trouble if he doesn’t cut it out. Enter his family.
Scott Hoezee from Calvin Seminary writes:
They have followed Jesus to check up on him, to observe what he has been up to. But the result of that kind of following is a dire conclusion: Jesus is off his rocker! He has become something of a family embarrassment, a public spectacle that they are eager to whisk out of sight. They want to take Jesus home, put him to bed, keep him quiet for a while, and then see if all this talk about casting out demons and the kingdom of his Father abates.
There is a multi-level problem here. First, those close to Jesus are concerned for him; they don’t want to see their friend and brother come to harm. Secondly, they are concerned about themselves and guilt by association. Don’t we all have that one friend or relative that when people ask us if we know s0 & so that we try to steer the conversation away from them? The black sheep.
Then Jesus, sensing either their ulterior motive or a teaching moment, makes a sweeping pronouncement about family. It doesn’t just depend on blood, almost heresy in itself in those days in which the extended family was the major social unit. You could pick with whom to join yourself, just as disciples could pick a teacher to follow. (Unless you were around Jesus; then he picked you.) Jesus is saying that these chosen bonds of love and obligation could be just as thick as blood and count just as much. You can make your family.
Unfortunately, sometimes we choose badly. Sometimes the people our hearts have chosen to love do not treat us with love in return. They might say the words and we want so much to believe! But actions speak louder than words.
Had Jesus family come to restrain him by talking some sense into him? Or were they prepared to restrain him by force? The text is unclear. What is clear, though, is that family members, both blood and chosen, do not always act in the best interests of others, often to the point of abuse and violence.
From the Safe Horizon website, these facts:
1 in 10 children suffer from child maltreatment. 1 in 16 children suffer from sexual abuse. Nearly 1 in 10 children are witnesses to family violence.
The youngest children are the most vulnerable to maltreatment. Over 25% of abused children are under the age of three while over 45% of abused children are under the age of five.
Number of children in the United States who died because of abuse or neglect in 2012: 1,593
That’s more than four per day. Why are the youngest also the most vulnerable? They can’t talk and they can’t fight back.
What’s scary, too: Researchers estimate that one-third of abused and neglected children will grow up to abuse their own children when they become parents.
Then there’s domestic violence between adults, also called Intimate Partner Violence. From US News and World Report:
Close to one in three women have been slapped, pushed or shoved by an intimate partner in their lifetimes. Nearly one in four women experience severe physical violence such as being beaten, burned, choked, slammed against something or hit with a fist. For men, almost 14 percent experience severe intimate partner violence in their lifetimes.
Half of women and half of men experience psychological aggression by a partner during their lifetimes, most often in the form of being "kept track of, demanding to know where you were and what you were doing" and "called names like ugly, fat, crazy, stupid."
Domestic violence is an extreme, but something we don’t normally talk about in church. I wanted to bring the subject up, at least. Break the ice. According to those statistics, it’s pretty pervasive in our society; we probably know someone who is effected, whether we realize it or not. Not every case of abuse, like the Duggars, hits the front page.
Less extreme and far more prevalent is just plain old disagreement. No two people in close relationship are ever going to agree on everything. Our own Padma and Robin have been giving us tips these past two weeks about how to fight fairly on Ask the Shrinks. We need one more show, though, to talk about the possibility of reconciliation. Another of my favorite commenters, Karoline Lewis, talked about that this week:
Life after disagreement and reconciliation is not about forgetting. It is not about pretending that nothing ever happened. It is about letting go of the fact that the past can be changed and choosing to live in the present reality that the relationship has changed. It can never go back to the way it was before. Yet, many would rather sever the ties altogether than live with the memory of ties that were broken. Many would rather abandon people and community for their own self-justification than to admit their own contributions to the problem. And many would rather stir up the proverbial pot than sense opportunities for kindness, graciousness, and gratitude.
The fact is, we are in a constant state of relational negotiation. The question is, how we choose to live in that state -- to pretend that it does not exist or to recognize its constant existence; to ignore its difficulty or to search in the difficulty for love; to mourn its challenges or to accept its reality.
Relationships are complicated. Relationships are hard. Relationships require hard work and maintenance. Relationships are also God-given and can be among our greatest joys in life. Relationships require love, apologies and forgiveness. They also require self-care, and sometimes the difficult decision to walk away.
May God help and guide us as we negotiate our relationships with others. May God give us the wisdom to understand that our viewpoint is not the only one. May God give us loving and forgiving hearts, that we might also know the sweetness of being loved and forgiven. Amen.
Pentecost
Acts 2 When Pentecost Day arrived, they were all together in one place. 2 Suddenly a sound from heaven like the howling of a fierce wind filled the entire house where they were sitting. 3 They saw what seemed to be individual flames of fire alighting on each one of them. 4 They were all filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages as the Spirit enabled them to speak.
5 There were pious Jews from every nation under heaven living in Jerusalem. 6 When they heard this sound, a crowd gathered. They were mystified because everyone heard them speaking in their native languages. 7 They were surprised and amazed, saying, “Look, aren’t all the people who are speaking Galileans, every one of them? 8 How then can each of us hear them speaking in our native language? 9 Parthians, Medes, and Elamites; as well as residents of Mesopotamia, Judea, and Cappadocia, Pontus and Asia, 10 Phrygia and Pamphylia, Egypt and the regions of Libya bordering Cyrene; and visitors from Rome (both Jews and converts to Judaism), 11 Cretans and Arabs—we hear them declaring the mighty works of God in our own languages!” 12 They were all surprised and bewildered. Some asked each other, “What does this mean?” 13 Others jeered at them, saying, “They’re full of new wine!”
14 Peter stood with the other eleven apostles. He raised his voice and declared, “Judeans and everyone living in Jerusalem! Know this! Listen carefully to my words! 15 These people aren’t drunk, as you suspect; after all, it’s only nine o’clock in the morning! 16 Rather, this is what was spoken through the prophet Joel:
17 In the last days, God says,
I will pour out my Spirit on all people.
Your sons and daughters will prophesy.
Your young will see visions.
Your elders will dream dreams.
18 Even upon my servants, men and women,
I will pour out my Spirit in those days,
and they will prophesy.
19 I will cause wonders to occur in the heavens above
and signs on the earth below,
blood and fire and a cloud of smoke.
20 The sun will be changed into darkness,
and the moon will be changed into blood,
before the great and spectacular day of the Lord comes.
21 And everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.[a]
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, oh God, our rock and our redeemer. Amen.
You guys know I’m from Wisconsin originally, ain’a? Ja! Back in ‘Sconsin, we drink from bubblers, go out for fish fry on Fridays and end the evening with some frozen custard down by the lakefront. We go smelting in the spring and swat mosquitos the size of bald eagles all summer. Both weeks. There’s two seasons, winter and road construction. Yup.
You can tell an outsider from how they talk, ain’a? I will always be able to slip into M’waukeese. And Dorothy will always sound like she grew up in New York, Edy, in Balamore. Really, this does have to do with Pentecost. Promise, ja hey?
Today’s pericope is so familiar to us! We hear it every year. We know it backwards and forwards. Rushing wind, tongues of fire, languages. And? You know I’m going to invite you to slow down and hear it anew.
First, we see our fellas, all tucked away in the same place, just waiting, like Jesus told them to before that ascension. I’m sure they talked a lot about recent events, wondering how they would know for sure when the Holy Spirit had been sent.
Suddenly, whoosh! Except the whooshing didn’t stop. Then they started noticing little tongues of flame above each other’s heads. I can see this in my mind’s eye. Someone is in the middle of telling a Jesus story, and James notices something above Philip’s head. You know how when you’re out to dinner with someone and you try to tell them quietly they’ve got salad dressing on their chin? You rub your chin, hoping they get the message. So James, not wanting to interrupt the speaker any more than this unexpected wind storm, anyhow, tries catching Philip’s eye and pointing discretely above his own head. Philip finally really looks above James’ head and sees that he’s on fire!
Philip springs to action, grabbing whatever was close – a bowl of breakfast porridge – to put James out. The flame flickers (in an annoyed fashion?) but doesn’t go out. Now everyone is paying attention! They are all on fire! They go running out of the house, all yelling fire and trying to put each other out. Except it doesn’t sound like they are saying fire. It sounds like guys yelling their heads off in 12 different languages.
Now they are out in the street, like 12 incoherent human candles. All the commotion has brought gawkers. Every time the disciples try to talk to each other, craziness comes out. Somebody tries scratching his head and burns his fingers. Every time somebody tries to say something, though, one of the bystanders hears his own language, and comes closer. They ask what happened. The disciples are amazed people can understand them, and start sharing the events of the morning, how they were waiting for Jesus’ promise to be fulfilled. Jesus? Of Nazareth? Yeah, that’s him. So they slowly start telling the whole story, in these new languages, to new people.
Hey – it could have happened like that!
That’s sort of the traditional reading. But! You know how much I love Greekland, and this text was awesome! One of my favorite commentators, D. Mark Davis, writes a blog called Left Behind and Loving It. In it, he gives the Greek text, verse by verse, his own translation, parses select words and gives exegetical notes. I love this guy! For me, meeting him would be like anyone else meeting Brad Pitt.
As I slowed down and read the text with the Rev. Dr. Mark, a few new things came to my attention. First, it was a sound like a violent wind, not a wind. Back in WI, we had the occasional tornado. Thankfully, I never experienced one close up, but I’ve been told that they sound like a freight train. That would get some attention from the locals.
There are many associations of God and wind in the bible. It begins in Genesis 1:2 with the ruach of God moving over the face of the deep. Ruach can be translated as both wind and spirit. Ruach drove back the waters after the flood, and a violent wind drove back the waters of the Red Sea so that the Israelites could escape. In the Greek Testament, the word for both spirit and wind is pneuma, like in apnea or pneumonia. Fire has its moments of association as well: the burning bush, the pillar of fire leading the Israelites by night. People were used to these associations and would pick up on them in Luke’s writing. This would be highlighted to a great degree since they would be reading the LXX, the Greek translation of the Hebrew texts.
The Rev. Dr. Mark translates verse three like this: And there appeared to them various languages like fire, and sat on each one of them. I like his translation. I think he is spot on. They were languages, and as each was given the ability to speak, something similar to fire, or maybe just glowing or flickering like fire, settled on them. The sentence is a simile, and uses the word ὡσεὶ, I mean, as or like.
I’ve always wondered a couple things which the text doesn’t directly tell us. Did they retain the ability to speak their own native language, or was this like the tower of Babel? My other big question was whether this was just a temporary ability. For the first question, I guess that they still needed to be able to communicate with each other, if not to plan mission activity then just to get through dinner. The second question the text doesn’t address directly, but I can infer. The indicative verb in verse three, appeared, is in the perfect. According to my Smyth’s Greek Grammar, the perfect tense implies a past action now completed, like I wrote the letter and it is now written. If that follows, then once the disciples perceived these languages, it must have stuck. (Okay, only a little envious…)
Skipping down to verse six, we are told that these simple men from Galilee were not just speaking schoolroom French, they were speaking ἰδίᾳ διαλέκτῳ, the idiomatic dialect. These fishermen were speaking these languages from far-away places like they’d grown up there. That for me was kind of like frosting.
Then in verse seven, I was startled and amused to find the exact same Greek word that the disciples had used to diss the women on Easter morning for telling outrageous stories is now used by some of the bystanders to describe them speaking languages. They were beside themselves! They were amazed, astonished and confounded.
Then in verse 13, we read that some skeptics asserted that the disciples were drunk. (I know the English says new wine, but the Greek says Γλεύκους, which has a cognate. Yes! In Greek it is sweet wine.) As a recovering alcoholic, I can tell you that I have done many things while drunk, most of them stupid, some of which I actually remember. I can honestly say that one thing I have never done while drunk is speak a foreign language like a native. Let’s face it: most likely English was a challenge. What this verse tells us is that haters gonna hate. It is, however, a great segue for Peter, who goes on to preach for many verses and makes 3000 converts in the process.
This is an amazing and captivating story. It has inspired great art and Sunday School drawings for millennia. No matter which version of events you like, the traditional portrait with tongues of fire or the update I presented this morning, one thing is perfectly clear: no one can control or contain the Spirit. She will always be disruptive, she will always come and go as she sees fit. You cannot coax her, you cannot entice her and you most definitely cannot coerce her.
We say that we welcome the Spirit. We gently and meekly repeat the phrase “Come, Holy Spirit, come!” Do we really realize the true significance of what we are saying? Are we sure we mean that? Are we sure we want her? Seems that everything gets blown to bits when she shows up. Everything gets turned on its head when she shows up. Things are never the same again after she shows up. What’s that saying? Man plans and God laughs. Sums it up.
But it seems that y’all already are familiar with disruptive. Floods are disruptive. Blackberries and other non-native species are disruptive. Sometimes the need to stop what we’re doing for food and rest is disruptive. And I think I can safely say that fund raising is disruptive!
I think maybe when we say “Come, Holy Spirit, come!” that what the spirit hears is more like “Come on, Holy Spirit, bring it!” So she does, in many ways, many exciting, adventurous ways. What have we got to be afraid of? A lot, actually. But we’re practiced hands at this disruption stuff. Wonder what new adventures await us. Come on, Holy Spirit! Bring it!
Luke 1:26-38
26 In the sixth month the angel Gabriel was sent by God to a town in Galilee called Nazareth, 27 to a virgin engaged to a man whose name was Joseph, of the house of David. The virgin’s name was Mary. 28 And he came to her and said, “Greetings, favored one! The Lord is with you.”[a] 29 But she was much perplexed by his words and pondered what sort of greeting this might be. 30 The angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. 31 And now, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you will name him Jesus. 32 He will be great, and will be called the Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give to him the throne of his ancestor David. 33 He will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end.” 34 Mary said to the angel, “How can this be, since I am a virgin?”[b] 35 The angel said to her, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you; therefore the child to be born[c] will be holy; he will be called Son of God. 36 And now, your relative Elizabeth in her old age has also conceived a son; and this is the sixth month for her who was said to be barren. 37 For nothing will be impossible with God.” 38 Then Mary said, “Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word.” Then the angel departed from her.
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, oh God, our rock and our redeemer. Amen.
Back in college, exams were the bane of our existence. You know that dream of showing up naked for class? Pretty sure that was my Latin 301 class. The language exams were always times of terror. For other classes, though, like Sociology, whipping out a blue book and my blue fountain pen was kind of fun. My favorite questions were always the compare and contrast.
For example, compare and contrast Greek and Hebrew. Both biblical languages. No one else in my cohort at seminary studied them. (Danny did suffer through a semester of Hebrew with me. Then he quit. Smart guy.) While all my classmates were taking social justice classes, I was sneaking off to study Greek and Hebrew with the Catholics and Presbyterians. Contrasts: I had 3 years of Hebrew and six of Greek. Greek, like Latin, is inflected, that is, the ending of the word tells you how it fits into the sentence. Hebrew is more like English, depending on word order to determine meaning. Usually. Sort of. Hebrew is a sort of linguistic free for all. Greek is like swimming; Hebrew is like drowning.
Or compare and contrast the Giants and the Packers. Obviously, one team plays baseball, the other football. The Packers I have loved since birth, while the Giants I have adopted. The biggest thing they have in common, though, is that they are so full of promise at the beginning of the season but they will Break. Your. Heart. Oy.
Maybe you’ve figured it out already, but today we will compare and contrast this week’s story with last week’s. Both stories announce a miraculous birth. Both include Gabriel, although he seems a bit mellower with Mary. Both stories include a sign, although Zechariah’s was more of a smiting. In fact, my commentary list nine properties the stories have in common, including the don’t fear, question by the human, right down to the angel’s departure.
So, these are essentially the same story, yeah? Except for the person to whom Gabriel appears. Well, not really. The same commentary goes on to list eight differences. This from John Nolland in Word Biblical Commentary:
- Z is God’s response to prayer while Mary is God’s initiative
- Old age birth has OT precedent; virgin birth is something new
- Z greeted by name; Mary gets the Ave
- John will be great before the Lord; Jesus’ greatness is limitless
- John is to be a Nazirite; Jesus’ holiness is in his DNA
- John is the preparer; Jesus will be Son and King forever
- John is filled with the Holy Spirit; Jesus’ very existence is from the Spirit
- Z couldn’t believe his ears; Mary presents herself as ready for God’s purpose
Another huge difference is their questions. Z asks how will I know. Mary asks how can this be. Z wants some evidence. Mary, new to this adult role but knowing enough about the birds and bees, realizes that there is something missing from the equation. Gabriel fills in the missing bit for her, then gives her, unasked for, a sign: the very thing that Z couldn’t believe, E having a baby.
That’s one compare and contrast. Here’s a completely other thought for you. What if this is not so much an announcement as call? When we look at prophetic call stories in the Hebrew scriptures, such as Moses or Gideon, we also see many parallels. Moses and the burning bush is two chapters, though, so let’s look at Gideon in Judges 6:11-23.
This breakdown was from The Voice of the Christian Resource Institute. They saw OT call stories mostly had these five elements in common:
- a situation of distress or crisis in which God confronts the person – 11-13
- the commissioning of the person for some action or message – 14
- objections raised by the person in the form of inadequacy for the task – 15
- assurance of God’s help, often in the formula "I will be with you" – 16
- a sign to confirm the commission, often with the content of the commission - 17-24
11 Now the angel of the Lord came and sat under the oak at Ophrah, which belonged to Joash the Abiezrite, as his son Gideon was beating out wheat in the wine press, to hide it from the Midianites. 12 The angel of the Lord appeared to him and said to him, “The Lord is with you, you mighty warrior.” 13 Gideon answered him, “But sir, if the Lord is with us, why then has all this happened to us? And where are all his wonderful deeds that our ancestors recounted to us, saying, ‘Did not the Lord bring us up from Egypt?’ But now the Lord has cast us off, and given us into the hand of Midian.”
14 Then the Lord turned to him and said, “Go in this might of yours and deliver Israel from the hand of Midian; I hereby commission you.”
15 He responded, “But sir, how can I deliver Israel? My clan is the weakest in Manasseh, and I am the least in my family.”
16 The Lord said to him, “But I will be with you, and you shall strike down the Midianites, every one of them.”
17 Then he said to him, “If now I have found favor with you, then show me a sign that it is you who speak with me. 18 Do not depart from here until I come to you, and bring out my present, and set it before you.” And he said, “I will stay until you return.” 19 So Gideon went into his house and prepared a kid, and unleavened cakes from an ephah of flour; the meat he put in a basket, and the broth he put in a pot, and brought them to him under the oak and presented them. 20 The angel of God said to him, “Take the meat and the unleavened cakes, and put them on this rock, and pour out the broth.” And he did so. 21 Then the angel of the Lord reached out the tip of the staff that was in his hand, and touched the meat and the unleavened cakes; and fire sprang up from the rock and consumed the meat and the unleavened cakes; and the angel of the Lord vanished from his sight. 22 Then Gideon perceived that it was the angel of the Lord; and Gideon said, “Help me, Lord God! For I have seen the angel of the Lord face to face.” 23 But the Lord said to him, “Peace be to you; do not fear, you shall not die.”
If we look at these same elements in Luke, it looks like this:
Situation of distress for Mary – although not explicitly stated, would be the Roman occupation on the concrete, temporal side, with the condition of humanity on the theological side.
Commissioning – v. 30-33 - 30 The angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. 31 And now, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you will name him Jesus. 32 He will be great, and will be called the Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give to him the throne of his ancestor David. 33 He will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end.”
Objection – 34 - Mary said to the angel, “How can this be, since I am a virgin?”
Assurance of God’s help – 35 - 35 The angel said to her, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you;
Sign – 36 - And now, your relative Elizabeth in her old age has also conceived a son; and this is the sixth month for her who was said to be barren.
All stories end with capitulation, the hero doing what they are called by God to do. With Mary, we get a nice summary in verse 38: Then Mary said, “Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word.”
I never looked at this story that way before, but it seems to make some sense. God has called and used all sorts of people. The fearless leader of my Sunday night bible study, the Rev. Dr. Jo Hudson, put it this way in her sermon to the UCC General Synod in 2013:
Noah was a drunk, Abraham was old, Isaac was a dreamer, Jacob was a liar. Rachel was conniving, Moses couldn’t talk, Gideon was afraid, Sampson was a womanizer, Rahab was a prostitute, Jeremiah was a whiner, David had an affair, Elijah was suicidal, Isaiah preached naked, Jonah ran away, Naomi was a widow, Job lost everything, John the Baptist ate bugs, Peter denied Jesus, the disciples fell asleep, Martha worried about everything, Mary Magdeline was possessed of demons, Zacchaeus was too small, Paul was too religious, Timothy was too young, and Lazarus was dead! Yet God used all of them. Might God use us as well?
Another of my Sunday night buddies, Fred, shared his thoughts: Mary had the reason that she was a virgin for why this plan wouldn’t work. We’ve all got something. What’s your…?
It’s true. When I first felt called to ministry, back in second grade, my dot dot dot was brought to my attention: I was the wrong gender. Then when I got the call again, sitting in church, my dot dot dot was that I was queer, an alcoholic, and had a past. Guess now I should add disabled. Thanks to y’all and thanks to God, none of that matters.
What is God calling you to do? Shelter the homeless? Feed the hungry? Write your senators to end gun violence? (There will be letters at coffee time.) What’s stopping you? What’s slowing you down? What’s your dot dot dot?
Do not be afraid. For nothing will be impossible with God. Hallelujah, and amen.
Hopeful and peace loving God,
It has been another week filled with tears and grief and death. We mourn for those lost to this most recent example of senseless violence. We mourn for all lost violently, around the world.
But more than being mournful, we are angry. We are angry with our elected leaders who, once again this week, had the opportunity to enact stricter gun legislation, but voted against it. We are tired of them not listening to the people. Give us, those people, the will to say and do something about it come election day. That day, however, is far away, and we realize that there will be more times of mourning between now and then.
In this season of busy-ness and preparation, help keep us focused on things that truly matter. Help us to be the people you see us being. Help us to be kind, in word and deed. Help us to be a living example of how your love has changed us. Help us to change the world around us as we reflect your love.
Our lives have been so richly blessed by family and friends. This time of year brings many reconnections. This is not without stress. Help us to focus on the big picture, our overall love and enjoyment. Don’t let us get bogged down with minor irritations that can overshadow all the positives.
Benediction
Deep peace of the running waves to you.
Deep peace of the flowing air to you.
Deep peace of the quiet earth to you.
Deep peace of the shining stars to you.
Deep peace of the infinite peace to you.
November 29
Luke 1:5-20 In the days of King Herod of Judea, there was a priest named Zechariah, who belonged to the priestly order of Abijah. His wife was a descendant of Aaron, and her name was Elizabeth. 6 Both of them were righteous before God, living blamelessly according to all the commandments and regulations of the Lord. 7 But they had no children, because Elizabeth was barren, and both were getting on in years.
8 Once when he was serving as priest before God and his section was on duty, 9 he was chosen by lot, according to the custom of the priesthood, to enter the sanctuary of the Lord and offer incense. 10 Now at the time of the incense offering, the whole assembly of the people was praying outside. 11 Then there appeared to him an angel of the Lord, standing at the right side of the altar of incense. 12 When Zechariah saw him, he was terrified; and fear overwhelmed him. 13 But the angel said to him, “Do not be afraid, Zechariah, for your prayer has been heard. Your wife Elizabeth will bear you a son, and you will name him John. 14 You will have joy and gladness, and many will rejoice at his birth, 15 for he will be great in the sight of the Lord. He must never drink wine or strong drink; even before his birth he will be filled with the Holy Spirit. 16 He will turn many of the people of Israel to the Lord their God. 17 With the spirit and power of Elijah he will go before him, to turn the hearts of parents to their children, and the disobedient to the wisdom of the righteous, to make ready a people prepared for the Lord.” 18 Zechariah said to the angel, “How will I know that this is so? For I am an old man, and my wife is getting on in years.” 19 The angel replied, “I am Gabriel. I stand in the presence of God, and I have been sent to speak to you and to bring you this good news. 20 But now, because you did not believe my words, which will be fulfilled in their time, you will become mute, unable to speak, until the day these things occur.”
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, oh God, our rock and our redeemer. Amen.
Isn’t that just the cutest kid on the front of the bully? Know who that is? Not the Gerber baby. Remember back last spring when I kept praying for my friends Angel and Luke and their premature baby? This is her, seven months later! Little Ellie, who was born 16 weeks early and weighed only one pound 13 ounces. Now she weighs 13 pounds. She looks like any normal, happy baby, doesn’t she? When she was born, she was just slightly longer than her mom’s hand. She truly is a miracle baby.
Today we hear about another miracle baby, John. This is another in a long string of miraculous births in the bible. Sarah, Rebekah, Rachel, Samuel’s mother, Samson’s mother – they all had children after they were thought to be barren. Sarah and Elizabeth were far too old. The children borne of them were special, indeed.
In the first three verses today, we are introduced to Zechariah and Elizabeth. He is a priest and she is also of priestly descent, being a daughter of Aaron. They are good people. They live their faith. But they’re getting on in years and have no kids of their own. Oh, sure, they’re Auntie E and Uncle Z to countless children, many of whom now have children of their own. That doesn’t mean they ever stopped wishing for one, just one, of their own. Every time Z had to go to the temple to perform his duties, E would tag along and coo at the kids being brought to the temple for dedication.
Let me explain about the priests. The priests were broken into 24 houses, or groups. Each group served a week at a time, two weeks a year. Some estimates suggest there were more than 8000 priests around this time, which means more than 300 in each house. There were two incense offerings a day, morning and evening, so 14 for the week. Everyone threw their name in the hat for this honor. As you can deduce, getting one of these 14 slots was a slim prospect. You then tapped two buddies to go with you to help, but there was time alone in the sanctuary – not the holy of holies; only the high priest went there, and then only once a year. Once everything was set up, they left you alone, with the incense and G_d.
Makes me read the rest of the gospels differently, though, knowing about the priests. It is easy to think of them as just a solitary, monolithic block of men, but in reality, they were always changing. I’ll try to remember this as we go through the gospel this year.
So, picture the scene: Z has just won the priestly lottery and taps his two buddies to go into the sanctuary with him. The silence of the sanctuary, the holy place, is deafening. Without words, the three men get the allotted amount of sacred incense and put it in the brazier. After making sure he’s got the means to light it, the buddies say a quick prayer and leave Z alone in this sacred space, which few people ever get to see.
Z stands in silent awe for a full minute. He is tempted to peek behind the curtain that separates this room from the holy of holies, but feels bad for even letting that cross his mind. He turns his attention to the business at hand. It is easy to feel the presence of G_d in this space. This place, where our ancestors have been doing exactly this for hundreds of years. Honoring the G_d of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. Z closes his eyes as he is overcome with emotion.
Suddenly, the hair on the back of his neck stands up. He opens his eyes in a start, to find some guy standing next to the altar of incense. How? Who? What? The guy looked normal enough, but when he opened his mouth to tell Z not to be frightened, his voice sounded like the Mormon Tabernacle choir! Z did what any reasonable person would do. He fainted.
Gabriel thinks to himself: Great. A fainter. Why do I always get the fainters? Gabe knelt down next to Z, who was coming around. Except he looked at Gabe and fainted again. Gabe slapped him on the cheek a couple times, and he came round again, but his eyes started rolling back again. Gabe grabbed him by the shoulders, turned his voice down, and urged Z to stay with him. Z nodded his head in a minute, indicating he was okay. Gabe starts delivering his message: your prayer has been heard. Your wife Elizabeth will bear you a son, and you will name him John. Joy, gladness, many will rejoice, great in the sight of the Lord. No drinking wine or strong drink; filled with the Holy Spirit. Like Elijah yadda yadda yadda.
Z props himself up on one elbow. He does what any of us do in uncertain circumstances: he talks too much. He looks at Gabriel, and has the almighty cheek to ask, “How will I know that this is so? For I am an old man, and my wife is getting on in years.” Seriously? The angel of the Lord comes to you in the temple and you have the unmitigated gall to question him?
Gabe loses it. He turns his voice back up, full blast. Choir with organ plus full brass and tympani. Goes full blown angel on him, too. So bright Z had to shield his eyes, which made it difficult to see the full wingspan.
I AM GABRIEL! I STAND IN THE PRESENCE OF GOD AND YOU ARE QUESTIONING ME?!?! Just for that, I am so going to smite you. Words did you in today, so I am taking your words away. The next words you will be able to utter will be “Look at my cute baby boy!” Are we clear?
Z tries to answer, but finds he can’t. He nods. The angel disappears, leaving him on the floor, mute and confused.
Now Z has a long, very quiet wait in front of him. How is he going to explain this to all his fellow priests waiting outside? They’ll know something happened to him. Who’s going to believe him? Seeing an angel, and Gabriel no less. And all the rest of the people gathered outside. What’s he gonna say? He can’t say anything. How he wishes for a back door to the temple!
Oh, sweet Abraham, Sarah and Isaac! What’s he gonna tell E? He has to tell her! She’s a little involved. How is he gonna tell her? He can’t talk and she can’t read. Great. The most important conversation of their lives, and it’s gonna require a middle man.
Z sat on the floor a minute longer, contemplating his big mouth. When he could delay no longer, he sighed and slowly got his old bones vertical. How am I gonna chase after a kid? Why now, after all this time? He looked down at his cloak, and realized that Gabriel had left fingerprints on him that sort of glowed. In the back of his mind, he heard a voice. Not Gabriel. A different voice. Kind of quiet but intense. Said that this was the time, now. It’s hard to wait, but I had to wait until the time was right. Thanks, by the way.
Oh. Z stayed in the holy place just a little longer, breathing in The Presence, trying to make sense. Sense of this. Sense of life. Sense of anything. Yeah, yeah. I’m going. Everything in good time, right?
How do you think that conversation with E went? Kind of backwards, yeah? It’s usually the mom informing the father-to-be, not vice versa. How do you think she took it? Was she quiet and contemplative? Was she mad at Z, thinking he was putting her on? Did she believe right away and rejoice? We’re not told. All we get is this, in verses 24-25: 24 After those days his wife Elizabeth conceived, and for five months she remained in seclusion. She said, 25 “This is what the Lord has done for me when he looked favorably on me and took away the disgrace I have endured among my people.”
Waiting is hard. When we’re kids, waiting for recess, waiting for dad to get home from work. When we’re older, waiting for that special someone to answer the phone. Or maybe waiting for our own bundle of joy. All the time we’ve got to prepare, and we’re never really ready. We can’t anticipate what it will really be like, even when it’s something we’ve dreamed of our whole lives.
Then there’s the promise. It’s one thing when you’re certain of the eventual outcome, like recess. It will come, eventually. But what about when we just have to trust in a promise? Maybe you were promised an extra special birthday present as a kid. You can hope it’s something really cool, like space camp, or a pony or that one thing you’ve secretly been dreaming of for months. But what if your mom thinks special means socks and underwear? You’ve really got to just hope and trust, don’t you?
That’s where we sometimes fall short today, in the hope and trust department. In our world today, we are bombarded with bad news. Bombings. Shootings. Attacks. Natural disasters (although the majority of our disasters seem to be man-made). I’m sure it was much easier for both E and Z to trust after they ascertained she was truly pregnant. Then it was just waiting for the birth, getting the nursery ready, picking paint colors… At least they didn’t have to wonder about pink or blue, or even a name. (John is derived from the Hebrew for God has been gracious.)
How do we react? How do we wait? In this day and age of instant gratification and ADD, waiting seems to be a lost art (except at the doctor’s office). Even as I write this, I am distracted. It’s my alma mater’s big game against our arch-rivals. We just missed a field goal. Because I can instantly flip over to the internet to keep track of the game. I can’t wait.
But this is the season of waiting, of sitting with God’s promise. A season of intraspection and repentance. Unlike human promises or intentions, God will come through. We just have to trust and wait for the time to be right. Sometimes, it’s up to us to recognize that the time is right, like this week. The human intention to take care of our brothers and sisters during this cold snap fell utterly short. The folks who were supposed to do this missed the mark. Then it’s time for God’s people to step up and fill the void, because sometimes God works through us to keep promises. Pretty cool, huh?
It’s been said that God works in mysterious ways. Maybe. And maybe not. It was crystal clear what needed to happen this week. It was also clear that we were the only ones who were going to make it happen. It was also clear how deeply and richly we were blessed by being instruments of God’s promise. I dare say we’ll remember this for a while.
What do we do with God’s promises? We hold them close, hold them dearly. Then, we just keep doing what we do, putting one foot in front of the other, doing the next right thing. God hears our prayers, our hopes, our confusion. Somewhere, in the mix of everything, God’s kingdom comes a little bit closer. How blessed we are to be God’s partners in promise! Hallelujah, and amen.
November 15
Mark 13 As he came out of the temple, one of his disciples said to him, “Look, Teacher, what large stones and what large buildings!” 2 Then Jesus asked him, “Do you see these great buildings? Not one stone will be left here upon another; all will be thrown down.”
3 When he was sitting on the Mount of Olives opposite the temple, Peter, James, John, and Andrew asked him privately, 4 “Tell us, when will this be, and what will be the sign that all these things are about to be accomplished?” 5 Then Jesus began to say to them, “Beware that no one leads you astray. 6 Many will come in my name and say, ‘I am he!’[a] and they will lead many astray. 7 When you hear of wars and rumors of wars, do not be alarmed; this must take place, but the end is still to come. 8 For nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom; there will be earthquakes in various places; there will be famines. This is but the beginning of the birth pangs.
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, oh God, our rock and our redeemer. Amen.
You might not know it to look at me now, but back in the day, I worked construction. For eight years I worked as a sheet metal worker – heating, air conditioning, occasional gutter hanging. As an apprentice, I did lots of grunt work. Messy, dirty work. Got my share of cuts and breaks. (I can show you my scars at coffee hour.) Found out the hard way not to wear steel toe boots on a roof in a WI winter. Set units on a roof on a hot summer day. Beer never tasted so good!
Mostly I worked on new construction. One of my favorite projects was an 18 story for NML on the Milwaukee lakefront. My partner and I were the fourth crew up the building. No windows; it was wide open to wind and rain. We were up high enough (and it’s flat enough) that we used to be able to watch storms roll in from the NW. Did you know that if you drop, say, a small piece of angle iron and a pencil off the edge, they fall at the same rate? We repeated that experiment many, er, several times.
Once in a while, I got stuck on a small remodel job. They were always messy and dirty. And reminded me of my childhood, remodeling our house with my dad. Okay. He did all the big work and I mostly held the dummy end, but still. Man, that was fun! I also learned a lot. Like when to call a professional.
The biggest difference between new construction and a remodel? On new construction, everything is clean, level, plumb and square. On a remodel, not so much. In hundred year old houses, good luck! It did give me an appreciation of real 2x4s, plaster, and archeology.
I love architecture. I love nicely built buildings, good craftsmanship. On new construction, we would always sign our names on what we’d installed. I’m not laboring under the misapprehension that anything I’ve built is going to last forever. I’m proud of my contribution to the Milwaukee skyline, but even things built to last can be pretty ephemeral. Even the Temple in Jerusalem.
Jesus and his crew are leaving the Temple when one of the small town Galilean boys loses his chill and starts gushing like a tourist about how totally awesome Herod’s Temple was. Aside from being totally uncool, he was also right. Some of these weighed well over 100 tons, the largest measuring 44.6 feet by 11 feet by 16.5 feet and weighing approximately 567 to 628 tons,[22][23] while most were in the range of 2.5 by 3.5 by 15 feet (approximately 28 tons). King Herod had architects from Greece, Rome and Egypt plan the construction. Herod started his rebuilding project in 20 BCE. The main temple itself was completed in just a year and a half, although construction of outbuildings continued for another 80 years.
That puts the temple complex completed around 60 CE. In 66 CE, there was a Jewish revolt. In 70 CE, the temple along with most of Jerusalem was destroyed. Common thought, even when I was in seminary, was that Mark had Jesus “predict” the destruction of the temple in 71 CE. Just one problem with that. What Jesus predicts doesn’t actually happen. To this day, there are stones still in place. It seems that, just like after the 1906 quake, great destruction happened by fire. Many of the stones were reused for building projects by Emperor Hadrian, who ruled from 117 to 138.
If Mark would have had Jesus predict retroactively, you’d think he would have had Jesus get it right. So maybe this actually was a prediction. What are we to make of this?
This entire chapter of Mark is known as The Little Apocalypse. While the word apocalypse is Greek for revelation, most of what it reveals are scenes of end times. By association, in our day, it has come to be heavily reflective of The End of Times. I remember reading this as a child (Yes, they encouraged us to read this in grade school.), and trying to pin down when the end of the world would actually come. Thing is, everything mentioned has always been going on. There truly is nothing new under the sun.
Today’s pericope breaks down into two discrete sections: the temple’s destruction and all the other scary stuff. First things first.
Herod’s temple was huge. It was glorious. It was awe-inspiring. Technically speaking, it was a marvel – how did they set those huge stones? It had special courtyards for both gentiles and women, making it a house of prayer for all. Plans for it show it dominating Jerusalem. It shone in the sun. The scent of burnt offerings wafted from it. It was a gathering place, a place of learning and dynamic debate, the vibrant and lively center of Jewish life. What did Jesus mean that it would be completely destroyed?
Let’s take a step back from the literal for a moment. What if the disciple wasn’t marveling at the big stones like some bumpkin tourist, but rather equating the incredible edifice with the religious establishment? What if the disciple, having just heard all Jesus’ verbal and ideological wrangling with scribes and priests, wonders how they will ever make a dent in the entrenched institution that was the temple and its system?
Jesus answers in stunning fashion. See this place? It’s all coming down! Every last bit of it. Nothing will remain the same. Grammatically, Jesus is emphatic. In English, what happens when we have a double negative? Two wrongs make a right, yeah? Not in Greek. You can pile on the negatives and that only makes it stronger. Jesus uses two double negatives here. There is no way one stone will remain atop another! The entire temple structure is coming to an end.
The disciples are nonplussed into silence. They always assumed Jesus was working within the current framework, that changes could happen to what was already there to encompass this new and larger picture of God. Destruction of the temple and all it stands for? Were they ready for that?
Some of the disciples ask for clarification later. When? Whatever will destroy something as vast and glorious as the temple is not something they want to be on the wrong side of or in the way of. Can you tell us when we should get out of Dodge?
“Beware that no one leads you astray. 6 Many will come in my name and say, ‘I am he!’[a] and they will lead many astray. 7 When you hear of wars and rumors of wars, do not be alarmed; this must take place, but the end is still to come. 8 For nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom; there will be earthquakes in various places; there will be famines. This is but the beginning of the birth pangs.
Jesus lets fly some pretty boilerplate apocalyptic rhetoric. These images have been tied together since Daniel. Bob Cornwall notes: Apocalyptic writings tend to emerge from times of distress. They reflect both the despair over the current situation and the hope that something new would emerge. Think these weren’t times of distress? Stupid Romans! The Israelites had been a subject and oppressed people for hundreds of years. You can’t blame them for wishing for a clean start.
Some scholars and churches always try to read into this when the end of the world as we know it will come. This was a pastime in the church of my youth – looking for the second coming. Lots of folks over the years have tried to predict the end. Remember in 2012, the end of the Mayan calendar? Or the Y2K scare? For a while, I lived in Zion, IL, which was started as a utopian community by faith healer (and former Congregational minister) John A. Dowie in 1902. He predicted the end in 1954. Actually, not too far off, thinking about WWII. Many people have made a living off people’s fears.
Think about this, though. Wars, earthquakes and famines. Has there been a time in recent memory that we’ve been lacking any of these? Recent history? Any history? No one likes change. Change can be brutal. Political change – how often has it been peaceful? Every July 4th, we celebrate our independence that came about through war. Sure, you occasionally have your Gandhi or Canada, but change without bloodshed is the exception, not the rule. Earthquakes and fires are destructive. Do famines do anything but kill people?
In verse seven, though, Jesus tells us not to be alarmed. Don’t be troubled, frightened or disturbed. Then Jesus says something odd: This is but the beginning of the birth pangs.
I have no children. I’ve not given birth. Never felt the drive, and quite honestly, after seeing my cat give birth, I was afraid of the pain. Seems to be a great deal of pain involved. There is also great joy. Wednesday night, at bible study, I asked how long it takes for a new mother to forget the pain. My friend Betty said it was forgotten as soon as she saw each of her children. So it seems that the joy and excitement of the new erases the extreme pain and fear felt immediately before the new thing happened.
What does giving birth have to do with the destruction of the temple? Taking my concrete (sorry) experience of building as an analogy for institutions, I think this: sometimes you have to tear down before you can build up. Yes, sometimes you can remodel, but then you are hemmed in – you have to work within the framework of what’s left. This works fine for somethings, when you have a sturdy frame that’s true. Worked for my childhood home, but we gutted it. At one point, you could look in the back door and see out the front window. There was nothing left inside the outer shell. If you truly want to do a new thing, you need a fresh start. Sometimes the only way to do that is to raze what stood before. You can pour new – and flat – floors, have right angles and plumb walls to work with. You are also not limited by the previous configuration; you can build a new footprint.
Maybe this is what Jesus was talking about. Judaism was not the same after the temple came down. Not only did you have this new sect, this Way that disciples of Jesus followed, you also had what came to be called Second Temple Judaism. Since they no longer had the physical center of their cult, they developed new ways of living their faith, guided largely by the Pharisees. The aftermath of the temple’s destruction was a rich time for rabbinic literature, giving us the Talmud and the midrashic tradition. This truly was the birth of something new and wonderful.
One more building analogy. Sometimes you are forced to tear down. It’s not your idea, but someone red tags your house. You have no choice but to tear it down because it’s been condemned. You must build new. Sometimes force is the only way to initiate change. I’m not saying I’m suborn, but that’s happened in my life, more than once.
Question of the day is this: how will we choose to honor our God? What are the old ways of thinking or doing that no longer serve? What new ideas should we raise up in their place? Some amount of destruction almost always precedes change. We needn’t be afraid. It won’t be comfortable, but it can lead to undreamt of richness. We are currently experiencing a time like this in the Church. I wonder what God has instore for us?
I hope we can be open to the new things God is doing in our midst! What an exciting time! We get to create and build as God’s partners. May God give us the strength, endurance and vision for this sacred task. Hallelujah, and amen.
October 25
Mark 10:46 They came to Jericho. As he and his disciples and a large crowd were leaving Jericho, Bartimaeus son of Timaeus, a blind beggar, was sitting by the roadside. 47 When he heard that it was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to shout out and say, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” 48 Many sternly ordered him to be quiet, but he cried out even more loudly, “Son of David, have mercy on me!” 49 Jesus stood still and said, “Call him here.” And they called the blind man, saying to him, “Take heart; get up, he is calling you.” 50 So throwing off his cloak, he sprang up and came to Jesus. 51 Then Jesus said to him, “What do you want me to do for you?” The blind man said to him, “My teacher,[a] let me see again.” 52 Jesus said to him, “Go; your faith has made you well.” Immediately he regained his sight and followed him on the way.
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable unto you, oh God, our rock and our redeemer. Amen.
I read a lot. (I know. Big surprise.) I was the kind of kid who knew all the librarians. Well. I spent many summer afternoons as a kid at the library. (I’m not stupid; it was air conditioned.) Every summer, my brother, Mark, would give me a suggested reading list. He never steered me wrong, and often toward pirate and adventure stories. His list, coupled with my own thirst for Hollywood biographies, kept me busy when I wasn’t playing ball.
This thirst for words never abated, and I have always loved the last day of school terms when I could read whatever I wanted again. I’m a sucker for a cracking good story. I love the books of Rita Mae Brown. I also seem to have inherited from my mother a weakness for murder mysteries. I especially enjoy Kathy Reichs (You know, Bones.) and Laurie R. King. This time of year makes me want to revisit the ghost stories of Edith Wharton.
In college, I spent a lot of time with Latin authors. That Caesar sure could kill ‘em on the battlefield, but it was his writing nearly did me in. Read a lot of poetry. Learned a lot about rhetorical devices. Long story short, I know from writing. I appreciate everything, from overall structure to word choices. I loves me a well told tale.
With that having been said, today’s story is just, wow! My favorite gospel has always been Luke (next year!), least favorite, John. I never really thought about Mark much one way or t’other, except as a source for Matthew and Luke. It always seemed so bare bones, even stark. It certainly was never anything special. Until now that I’ve spent the better part of a year with it. I now have a great appreciation for the gospel of Mark. From overall structure to word choice, my hat is off.
Overarching form of the book/section
Mark jumps into Jesus’ ministry right away in chapter one, healing and teaching. He kinda needs to get to the point; the whole gospel is only 16 chapter. Then, in the middle of chapter 8, Jesus heals a blind man. This is followed by the three disclosures of his death, which are each followed by the disciples not getting it. Now Jesus heals a second blind man, who does get it. (One wonders who was truly blind.) After this story in Mark’s gospel, Jesus goes to Jerusalem and death. This whole center section bracketed by blind men healings is sort of the close of part one of the story. The official name for bracketing the section is inclusio. Marks it as important and makes it stand out. And, yes, this rhetorical highlighting for me is true brilliance.
Today’s story starts off with Jesus & Co. on the move again. They came to Jericho. They left Jericho. (Almost like their motto was Veni, vidi, exi.) Apparently, nothing too exciting happened while in the city proper. The narrative picks up as they are exeunt-ing.
They pass a bunch of people outside the city gates, among them beggars and other rabble. And, of course, our blind guy, Bartimaeus. The first thing we notice about him is that he has a name. Bartimaeus is literally Son of Timaeus. Usually this is spelled out for us with a “that is” or some such. Bartimaeus is one of those hybrid words – half one language and half another. Bar is Aramaic for son of. Timaeus is Greek for either honor or rebuke. Folks who were sick or handicapped in some way were always a little suspect. Who had done wrong, him or his father? Remember how name changes were important in the Hebrew scriptures? Abram became Abraham, Sarai Sarah, and Jacob Israel. Bartimaeus name doesn’t change, but I think the meaning does. Hold that thought.
What, exactly, was the importance of Jericho? (Today’s fun fact: Jericho was the site of Herod’s winter Palace. Es.) Aside from the stated location of the story, it doesn’t really figure. Or does it? Think about the last big story you heard involving Jericho. Had to do with yelling. And walking. And walls falling down. Here we have Jesus & Co. walking and Bartimaeus yelling. Can walls falling down be far away?
“They” tried to shut him up. We’re not told exactly who “they” is, but my money is the hometown crowd. The ones who knew him. The ones who could be embarrassed by him. They rebuked him (Yes, same word as his name.), but he yelled all the more. Here Bartimaeus is the son of rebuke. On the other hand, they could be the disciples. They were running late again, as usual. They didn’t want Jesus getting sidetracked. Again.
In verse 49, we read of Jesus doing something we’ve never seen him do before: he stopped. Bartimaeus stopped Jesus in his tracks. Jesus, who was always going somewhere. Jesus, who was so peripatetic he even walked on water. For Bartimaeus, he stopped. Bartimaeus stopped him in his tracks.
Jesus stops. He asked for the loud mouth to be called over to him. Actually, Jesus asked y’all to call him. Plural. Did Jesus just ask the crowd who had been trying to shut him up to call him over? Sounds like it to me. There were many hands there, to help guide him over to Jesus.
This next bit is interesting. We are told that Bartimaeus “throwing off his cloak, he sprang up and came to Jesus.” Why mention the cloak? Here’s the picture: you know how guitarists busk, and leave their guitar case open on the street for you to throw money in? Bartimaeus’ cloak was his guitar case. That’s where people threw their alms. At the end of the day, he could pick up his cloak by the edges and have a tidy bundle. In throwing off the cloak, he was sort off selling all he had. He was cutting his ties, leaving it all behind, because Jesus was calling.
Here now is Bartimaeus face to face with Jesus. I’m sure Bartimaeus’ heart was racing and he could barely breathe. The crowd got quiet, watching, waiting. Waiting to see what Jesus was going to do with this brash, loud, unruly, wretched man. Kyrie eleison! Lord, have mercy!
Jesus looks at him for a long moment, then asks him the same thing he had asked James and John in our story last week: What do you want me to do for you? Rabbi, Bartimaeus answered, that I might see again. We don’t know how he lost his sight. Perhaps illness, maybe doing something he shouldn’t have been doing, like playing ball in the house. He doesn’t want fame or fortune, or even, like James and John, a winning lottery ticket. He wants his sight back, so that he can once again be a productive, and respected, member of his community.
Jesus does have mercy. Immediately Bartimaeus saw again. Can you even imagine? His heart must have about pounded out of his chest! A dream come true! Amazing! Jesus told him to go, but he followed. How could you not follow someone who is obviously worthy? Did this not prove that Jesus was the Son of David? In the moment he followed, Bartimaeus went from Son of Rebuke to Son of Honor.
That’s the story, anyhow. There’s always debate on how to interpret these healing and miracle stories. Some folks try to explain them away, to make them more palatable to our modern sensibilities. They say that the miracle of the feeding stories is that people shared their packed lunches. Kind of takes the romance out of it, doesn’t it? Also takes the power away from God.
There seems to be an explanation for every outlandish story of God’s power in the bible. Yeah, God creating the world in six days is a myth. I understand that, just as I know that every culture has its own creation story. Did it happen that way? Probably not. But the God I believe in is big enough that it could have happened. Virgin birth? (Yes, I am already planning for Christmas Eve.) Given the fact that it really was a translation error from the Hebrew to the Greek, same rule applies. My God is big enough to make that happen.
Today’s story has been batted around for centuries. It’s a metaphor for the blindness of humanity. Bartimaeus wasn’t completely blind, only a little blind, like he really needed glasses. Don’t read it literally! Honestly, there are so many theories, it makes me a little dizzy.
What happens if we take it at face value? I have enough respect for the story teller to realize that there are probably layers here. But just the first layer is an amazing story of love and compassion. It’s the story of someone who is not in the intimate circle yet who really understands who Jesus is. And he’s blind, for crying out loud! Not even the disciples see as well as this, this, nobody. And Jesus sees him, and has compassion. Jesus has the power to change lives and does. That is someone I want to follow!
A few weeks back, we had another healing story that ended the same way, with Jesus claiming that their faith had made them whole. Kit asked me at coffee hour if that story bugged me. I had to admit it did. Now today we have another one. What gives?
First of all, I don’t think that’s how God works in our world as a general rule. Sure, you hear stories of cancer patients going into sudden, complete and unexplained remission every once in a while. Mostly you read that while you’re on line at the grocery. I’m a bit skeptical of modern faith healing stories. It’s not out of the question – back to that my God is big enough thought – but I think that nowadays God works through modern medicine and even ancient medicine like acupuncture.
Second of all, well, let me back up. Y’all know I do online bible study twice a week. Even though I’ve never met these folks face to face, we have become a community over the past year. We have all friended each other on Facebook, so we can keep up with each other’s lives. I message privately with half a dozen folks and have extended conversations. Sometimes we get into larger theological issues. Last week, Maria brought up the age old question of where does evil come from. The discussion went on for two days among several of us.
On Sunday evenings, we recently started reflecting on the lectionary. So last Sunday night, we talked about this passage. About 45 minutes in, I brought up the whole your faith has made you whole thing. I said that as someone living with chronic illness, I wonder what is wrong with my faith. Why haven’t I been healed? Is my faith lacking somehow? I’m following on the way! His faith? Really? What am I? Chopped liver?
Everyone got quiet for a bit, but soon folks picked up again. I don’t remember exactly what was said, but most people expressed support and compassion. I love my peeps!
It took me about 24 hours to put that thought into words, that thought that was dangling just out of reach. God has not outright and immediately healed me, but God has brought healing into my life in more ways than I can count. How has God healed you? How many people have you touched with God’s healing? Sometimes we find out years later that we helped someone. Sometimes we never find out.
Jesus was kind of lucky that way. He and Bartimaeus were face to face. Bartimaeus got to say thank you. Jesus saw the result of his work, saw a life changed. Even if we don’t know of the results, may we never cease to be God’s hands and heart in our world. Hallelujah, and amen.
19 September 2015
Mark 9:30-37 The Message
30-32 Leaving there, they went through Galilee. He didn’t want anyone to know their whereabouts, for he wanted to teach his disciples. He told them, “The Son of Man is about to be betrayed to some people who want nothing to do with God. They will murder him. Three days after his murder, he will rise, alive.” They didn’t know what he was talking about, but were afraid to ask him about it. 33 They came to Capernaum. When he was safe at home, he asked them, “What were you discussing on the road?” 34 The silence was deafening—they had been arguing with one another over who among them was greatest. 35 He sat down and summoned the Twelve. “So you want first place? Then take the last place. Be the servant of all.” 36-37 He put a child in the middle of the room. Then, cradling the little one in his arms, he said, “Whoever embraces one of these children as I do embraces me, and far more than me—God who sent me.”
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, oh God, our rock and our redeemer. Amen.
I have a great memory; it’s just really short. Like, when it comes to people’s names. (And don’t try to tell me this has never happened to you!) I’ll be at some gathering or another and meet someone new. We talk and laugh, and at some point, I realize I don’t remember their name. A pause in the conversation, in which I could have asked. But I’m embarrassed. We part, and then I spend the rest of the evening trying to find someone who knows the person to whom I was talking. Good luck with that.
I’m afraid to ask. Know that old saying about there are no stupid questions? I never believed that, either. Because I just feel like such an idiot when that happens. You think I’d learn, right? Yeah.
So here’s Jesus and the fellas traveling through Galilee, trying to keep it on the QT. Jesus has often been the center of mob scenes, but now he’s almost trying to go incognito. (Like folks are going to miss this large group of people walking around.) Jesus has a serious message to impart to his closest followers: he’s going to die, and not of natural causes. After three days, though, he’ll be back!
The guys don’t quite follow, though. First, why’s he always talking about dying lately? Does he really think we’d let anything like that happen to him? Why is he starting this talk now? We’re just starting to do well! We’ve got more followers than ever. We ourselves have been successful when we’ve gone out on healing and preaching trips. What’s he on about?
They banged it about among themselves for a while, but they just couldn’t figure it out. Someone (Was it Philip? Again?) brought up the idea that one of them should just ask him to clarify. No one, and I mean no one, volunteered. After a few minutes of silence, it was generally agreed upon that if they didn’t bring it up again, maybe Jesus would just forget about it.
The next day, they headed out for Capernaum. Once they were settled in the house, Jesus nonchalantly asked what they’d been discussing so passionately on the road. Now, two things weren’t gonna happen. First, nobody was going to bring up this whole dying business again. Second, nobody was going to admit that some of them were arguing about who was the best disciple. They suddenly all developed cuticle problems.
Jesus rolled his eyes and sat down. He called them in that tone of voice. You know the one – the way your dad said your name when you’d done something bad and you knew you were in trouble? That voice. Then he grabbed a kid and started talking about first and last and being a servant and embracing. Or some such. It’s tough to listen when you’re embarrassed. Why did he always have to use a kid?
Essentially, the disciples had been arguing about faith, and whose was greatest, as if faith can be measured competitively. As if it were a competition. What is faith, anyhow? Is there a sliding scale of faith? Can we have lots or just a little, or is it either off or on? Can you prove you have it? If you believe in something that’s not real, does it still count as faith? (If a tree falls in the woods…)
Let’s talk about faith. Different people have different ideas about what it is. Is it mindful assent? Some folks think having any kind of faith points to mental deficiency. They see faith as believing in something that’s not real. Therefore, if you admit to belief in anything that can’t be empirically proven, you’re not firing on all eight cylinders.
On the other hand, these thoughts were from the Secular Humanism website:
From the inside, when you have faith you have moorings, direction, purpose that other people, the ones who do not have faith, lack. If you believe in nothing, you question everything, and where are you? You are like a ship adrift, without a destination. You have a crew but no captain, no pilot, no compass, no charts. You may end up in different waters than where you began, but to what purpose? What was the voyage for? The matter of faith changes all that. You know where you are going... Faith lends meaning to an otherwise meaningless existence. It makes the whole matter of life worthwhile.
Is faith solely of the heart? A mix of heart and head? Personally, I hope that you won’t swallow everything that anyone – even me – puts before you hook, line and sinker. I hope that you always keep your brain engaged. I hope that you only have faith in things that are worthy of your faith.
What is worthy of our faith? This is from Dave Lowe on the Starting With God website:
The mustard seed is the smallest of seeds. Jesus used that fact to illustrate that it isn’t the size of your faith that’s important. Rather…the power of faith rests in the reliability of its object, not in how confident you may be.
Personally, I’m pretty confident in the reliability of God.
Do we have to have perfect faith? What if we waver? What if, for a time, I lose faith completely? Back in 1957, a fella named Paul Tillich wrote a book called ‘The Dynamics of Faith.” (No quotes from him today. I have to read his stuff over three times before it makes sense to me.) Just look at the title: ‘The Dynamics of Faith.” First, that faith is dynamic. Second, dynamics, plural. In music, what are dynamics? Right – the changes in volume of a piece of music. Without dynamics, music is boring. So, too, with our faith. We will have more than one dynamic, not be the same all the time.
I’ve talked about faith, described aspects of faith, but what, exactly, is faith? Perhaps we can appropriate Supreme Court Justice Potter Stewart’s famed description for our purposes: I can’t define faith, but I know it when I see it. I’ve been thinking about this all week, about how can I say what faith is. At first, I gotta tell ya, I was stumped. Then--
If I had to describe faith using our senses, what would faith taste like? I think it would taste like my mom’s apple pie. (Right, Kurt? You know what I’m talking about!) Or really good mac and cheese, or the best mashed potatoes and gravy you’ve ever had. You know, comfort food. Or maybe those cherry tomatoes Diane brought to coffee hour and a half last week.
Maybe faith smells like bread baking. Or maybe like that blissful rain we got on Wednesday. Or maybe it smells like redwoods in spring, when the sap starts running. Pretty sure for our friend, Maple, it smells like coffee brewing.
What does faith sound like? Music is a good bet, and not just a favorite hymn (of which I have many). I love many kinds of music – jazz, swing, Celtic, salsa, progressive bluegrass (no banjoes!), classical. (Spent most of yesterday listening to Beethoven piano sonatas, because my name is Schroeder.) The music that really speaks to my soul: Bach. There are times I hear it not with my ears, but viscerally; it goes directly to my heart and opens me up. So does my cat’s purring. What does your faith sound like?
We all know what faith looks like. It looks like action! It looks like first responders. Like protesters, people standing up for what they believe in. It looks like a friend helping out. Like working at the food bank. Like donating to the worthy cause of your choice.
I started this list when I realized earlier this week what faith feels like. My friend, Mary, came over. I hadn’t seen her in a couple months, and we talked and laughed like we always do. Then we started talking about my latest project, getting hand controls for my car. I’ve been trying to research how to get it done, but was having very little luck. Mary said, “Can I help you out with that?” Two hours later, she emailed me huge part of the puzzle. I can’t tell you how relieved I felt. Yes, Mary made me realize what faith feels like: when my heart is full and I can only laugh or cry or sing in response. What does it feel like for you?
I know that faith is a different experience for each of us. When I looked back over my list, though, I realized that every single answer I gave was about relation. The tastes and smells are all caused by somebody, usually someone who loves us. Rain and redwoods is about our relationship with nature. Music, making it or listening to someone else, is about relationship. My cat is THE relationship. The action of faith is all about people. My relationships with loved ones gives me some clue of what God’s love is like.
I think that’s what faith, in essence, is: our relationship with God. Just speaking for myself, I know my relationship with God ebbs and flows. There are times when I put it on a back burner. There are times when I actively try to cultivate it, through prayer and study and meditation. Then there are the surprises, like this past week, when God breaks in unexpected and unannounced. Just, BAM! And there God is, front and center, taking over the room, can’t be ignored. A spiritual accident.
Most of the time, for me, God does show up in my relationships. Sometimes, though, it’s just me and God. You know what a thin place is, yeah? I’ve talked about this before, I think. "Thin places" is a Celtic Christian term for "those rare locales where the distance between heaven and Earth collapses", as Eric Weiner puts it. Some are well known to many people, and some are just our own. This sanctuary has always been a thin place for me. Others find God close in the redwood cathedrals or the majesty of the ocean.
The disciples might have been afraid to ask Jesus for clarification, but we needn’t be afraid of coming to God. God invites us into relationship, into God’s loving embrace. Whether we feel at any given moment that we have faith the size of a mustard seed or an elephant, God is ready, willing and able to hold us, help us, comfort us. God is ready to hear the contents of our hearts and the troubles of our souls. God is ready to meet us. Are we ready to go? Amen.
12 September 2015
Mark 8:27-38 The Message
27 Jesus and his disciples headed out for the villages around Caesarea Philippi. As they walked, he asked, “Who do the people say I am?”
28 “Some say ‘John the Baptizer,’” they said. “Others say ‘Elijah.’ Still others say ‘one of the prophets.’”
29 He then asked, “And you—what are you saying about me? Who am I?”
Peter gave the answer: “You are the Christ, the Messiah.”
30-32 Jesus warned them to keep it quiet, not to breathe a word of it to anyone. He then began explaining things to them: “It is necessary that the Son of Man proceed to an ordeal of suffering, be tried and found guilty by the elders, high priests, and religion scholars, be killed, and after three days rise up alive.” He said this simply and clearly so they couldn’t miss it.
32-33 But Peter grabbed him in protest. Turning and seeing his disciples wavering, wondering what to believe, Jesus confronted Peter. “Peter, get out of my way! Satan, get lost! You have no idea how God works.”
34-37 Calling the crowd to join his disciples, he said, “Anyone who intends to come with me has to let me lead. You’re not in the driver’s seat; I am. Don’t run from suffering; embrace it. Follow me and I’ll show you how. Self-help is no help at all. Self-sacrifice is the way, my way, to saving yourself, your true self. What good would it do to get everything you want and lose you, the real you? For what could you ever trade your soul?
38 “If any of you are embarrassed over me and the way I’m leading you when you get around your fickle and unfocused friends, know that you’ll be an even greater embarrassment to the Son of Man when he arrives in all the splendor of God, his Father, with an army of the holy angels.”
May the words of my mouth and the meditations our hearts be acceptable to you, oh God, our rock and our redeemer. Amen.
You know that I’m a recovering alcoholic. 22 years this summer. I’m kind of getting the hang of it, although you never know what’s going to take you right back to that very first day. Things come right up out of the blue, and suddenly you don’t know up from down, right from left. Guess that’s why we’re all recovering, never recovered. Ever.
I’m glad that I didn’t know how tough it was going to be. I never would have tried. Honestly? I don’t know how anyone makes it through the first year. I was lucky – I had insurance that let me do 28 days as an inpatient for the initial detox/dry out. (That movie, 28 Days? Spot on!) So glad I made it. Life is so much better on this side!
The thing about the 12 Steps is that they not only help you get rid of the alcohol, they give you help with living your life, some simple directions for how to live life with integrity, because that’s not something that’s been a very high priority for us. We kind of need remedial life. Or kindergarten. If you listen to the Steps, you notice that the first bunch are getting us out of the hole we’ve dug ourselves into, and the rest are for keeping us from falling back in it. The hole never goes away, though.
Y’all heard the Steps? It’s been a few years since I’ve been to a meeting, so it was good for me to read these again:
- We admitted we were powerless over alcohol—that our lives had become unmanageable.
- Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity.
- Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood God.
- Made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves.
- Admitted to God, to ourselves, and to another human being the exact nature of our wrongs.
- Were entirely ready to have God remove all these defects of character.
- Humbly asked God to remove our shortcomings.
- Made a list of all persons we had harmed, and became willing to make amends to them all.
- Made direct amends to such people wherever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others.
- Continued to take personal inventory, and when we were wrong, promptly admitted it.
- Sought through prayer and meditation to improve our conscious contact with God as we understood God, praying only for knowledge of God’s will for us and the power to carry that out.
- Having had a spiritual awakening as the result of these steps, we tried to carry this message to alcoholics, and to practice these principles in all our affairs.
Graceful segue?
This morning’s pericope is a pip, isn’t it? First, we have Peter’s great statement about who Jesus really is, the Jesus starts talking about suffering and dying. Peter’s not fond of the thought of someone he respects, admires and loves becoming a casualty. But when he expresses his ardent desire that his teacher not suffer and die, Jesus calls him an adversary! Ain’t that just a slap in the face.
The odd thing about this statement is that the word for getting behind is the same word that Jesus used to call the disciples in the first place. He told them to follow him. Peter was inverting the natural order. He was putting his way in front instead of letting Jesus lead.
That’s why I picked this translation today. I’m not entirely satisfied with it, but then I’m never satisfied with any of them. I really liked the emphasis they place on Jesus being the leader and us the followers. I think that’s what at the heart of today’s reading. In the NRSV, verses 34-37 read, “34 He called the crowd with his disciples, and said to them, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. 35 For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel,[b] will save it. 36 For what will it profit them to gain the whole world and forfeit their life? 37 Indeed, what can they give in return for their life?” Sounds very different, yeah?
A few words about taking up your cross: did you notice that in the earlier part, where Jesus was talking about his death, he doesn’t mention the cross? He talks about the elders, high priests, and religion scholars, but only the Romans can crucify. When someone in those days carried their cross, they carried the cross beam only, not the whole thing. As the condemned was led through the city, people would hurl insults and abuse. Maybe that was how they really felt, or maybe they were trying to convince the Romans whose side they were on. Being a cross carrier was pretty bad, all the way round, not to mention that death thing.
I like the first translation. I like how it talks about letting Jesus lead. If we only read about losing our life, we can lose sight of the metaphor, which, in this case, makes way more sense to me. I can metaphorically lose myself lots of ways. I can get lost in a good book or a good movie. I can get busy and lose track of time, disappearing completely into my own little world. We can get lost looking into the eyes of a love; we fall head over heels and lose our head. I can get lost lots of ways without losing my life.
“Anyone who intends to come with me has to let me lead. You’re not in the driver’s seat; I am. Don’t run from suffering; embrace it. Follow me and I’ll show you how. Self-help is no help at all. Self-sacrifice is the way, my way, to saving yourself, your true self. What good would it do to get everything you want and lose you, the real you? For what could you ever trade your soul?
We have to let Jesus lead. We have to let him be in the driver’s seat. Self-sacrifice. Wait, what? What does that mean? What does that have to do with anything?
You know how I’m always saying that there are as many ways to God as there are people on earth? For me, one of the most formative influences has been the 12 Steps and AA. They did actually save my life. After I got into AA, it took me a while to figure out what I was going to do about step two and believing in a power greater than myself. I spent a long time and much energy debating with myself on the existence of God. I remember some people started out with a lilac bush as their higher power. Lilacs do that amazing coming back to life dance every spring. Some folks started out with phone poles because they could do something we couldn’t: stand up on their own. Many start out with the group as their HP. I eventually got tired of debating with myself, and decided to try believing in God for a while, just to see. So far, it’s been working out.
I worked the rest of the steps as best I could. That searching and fearless moral inventory? Oooh, scary! And then having to share that with another person? But I made it. Truthfully? I’m still working on the whole making amends steps. I do very consciously try to work step ten. Life tends to be easier and better when I clear things up right away, instead of worrying and beating myself up. I think it’s safe to say that yes, I have had a spiritual awakening as the result of these steps.
While step ten helps me be a relatively decent human being, it is step 11 that helps my spiritual life: Sought through prayer and meditation to improve our conscious contact with God as we understood God, praying only for knowledge of God’s will for us and the power to carry that out. This, for me, is how I let Jesus drive. Okay, I pray for more than just knowledge of God’s will for me, but this has changed the way I pray. I try not to tell God what to do, what’s best for my family and friends, and especially me. I try to be a good little duckling. I try to lose my self-will and align my will with God’s will.
Honestly? I’ve never felt better, more whole, than when I try to lose myself to God. My life keeps getting better and better. I’ve had some truly breathtaking moments since “deciding” one day to believe in God. I’ve got to thank you, too. Because of y’all, I get to spend more time reading and studying and praying and thinking about God, sitting in the Presence. This past year has been fantastic! I am one lucky duck.
Now you’re thinking, “Great. Works for you. But that’s your job. What about me?”
Good point. Different paths for different people. David Lose says this: What gives you the greatest joy in life? What creates for you the deepest sense of purpose? And when you do you feel most alive, most true to the person you believe God created you to be? My guess is that it wasn’t something you bought, or even earned, but rather was rooted in relationship, in acts of service, and even in acts of what the world calls “sacrifice” when you are caring for another.
I’m pretty much a geek, and the whole reading and studying thing does it for me. But what about each of you? What makes your heart sing? What stops you in your tracks because it’s beautiful? What takes you out of yourself, makes you say wow or thanks? What brings your soul closer to God?
There are endless ways to find God. Sometimes we (and I mean I) make things harder than they have to be. God’s not far. Following God can be scary sometimes, but if we let God lead, let Jesus drive, we won’t go wrong. It really is in losing ourselves that we are found.
May God bless our efforts, all of them, no matter how faltering or timid, at coming closer to God. Hallelujah, and amen.
July 26, 2015
45 Immediately he made his disciples get into the boat and go on ahead to the other side, to Bethsaida, while he dismissed the crowd. 46 After saying farewell to them, he went up on the mountain to pray.
47 When evening came, the boat was out on the sea, and he was alone on the land. 48 When he saw that they were straining at the oars against an adverse wind, he came towards them early in the morning, walking on the sea. He intended to pass them by. 49 But when they saw him walking on the sea, they thought it was a ghost and cried out; 50 for they all saw him and were terrified. But immediately he spoke to them and said, “Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.” 51 Then he got into the boat with them and the wind ceased. And they were utterly astounded, 52 for they did not understand about the loaves, but their hearts were hardened.
53 When they had crossed over, they came to land at Gennesaret and moored the boat. 54 When they got out of the boat, people at once recognized him, 55 and rushed about that whole region and began to bring the sick on mats to wherever they heard he was. 56 And wherever he went, into villages or cities or farms, they laid the sick in the marketplaces, and begged him that they might touch even the fringe of his cloak; and all who touched it were healed.
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, oh God, our rock and our redeemer. Amen.
You guys know I like movies, yeah? (and chocolate and the Giants) Did you know that I’ve taken a couple of screenwriting classes? Gee, maybe I should make this into a screenplay. What do you think? I need to take many more classes, but two of the big things I’ve learned are story arc and conflict.
You need to have a story arc, a plot line. For rom-coms, the plotline is usually basically boy meets girl, boy loses girl, boy wins girl back (or some combination of genders). A key point, though, is conflict. You need to have your protagonist overcome some obstacles, or else if it’s just boy meets girl, the end, you don’t have much of a story.
Think of some of your favorite movies. Better yet, think of one of mine, North by Northwest. (Remind me to tell you a longer story at coffee hour and a half.) It starts out quietly enough, with Cary Grant having dinner in a restaurant. But after that, it was one obstacle after another – people trying to kill him often and by various means, an elusive secret agent, and the secretive and sexy Eva Marie Saint. I think even Jefferson’s nose was an obstacle, along with the crop duster. (Why don’t I own that movie?)
Mark presents a great story arc here in chapter six. Unfortunately for the disciples, their trajectory isn’t so much an arc as a line. A downward line. Let’s continue with the story:
Previously, on Jesus and the disciples--
Last week we talked about the disciples coming back, triumphantly, from their first mission trip. But how soon they forgot the thrill of being the miracle men and instead accede their recently acquired powers to Jesus. Instead of feeding 5000+ people, Jesus takes over and resumes his place as most eligible healer. Back to our story--
It’s hard to say when exactly in Jesus’ ministry the sending of the disciples took place. They had been following and learning from Jesus for a while, anyhow. They knew his basic teachings. They’d observed Jesus healing. They knew who was in – everyone – and who was out – no one. They knew what was what. They knew it all; they’d just never actually done it.
Once they started having some successes, word started spreading about them. They gained confidence and they gained power. All too soon, it was time to meet back up with Jesus. But, boy oh boy! What stories they could tell!
They all got back and told all their stories. Jesus suggested a day long retreat, so they hopped in the boat and took off. Except their fame now made them targets. They couldn’t go anywhere without people pointing them out and getting mobbed. Like that day: folks had run around and met them on the shore. So much for a getaway.
But Jesus ran interference for them, sitting down with the crowd so the disciples could escape. By the time they came down from the hills to go back to the village for dinner, there was a huge crowd. They groaned in exasperation but joined Jesus. Then the unexpected happened: Jesus told them to feed the crowd!
Well, wasn’t that just the last straw! How quickly they forgot the power they had only the day before. Instead of taking the opportunity to be heroes, they were zeroes. In their tiredness and frustration, they threw up their hands in defeat. Jesus rolled his eyes and did what he always did – met the needs of whoever was in front of him.
The sun is starting to set now. Jesus tells the disciples to take the boat and go back. As soon as he dismisses the crowd, he’s going to take the meditation time he hadn’t gotten that day. Much later, Jesus looks down from his mountain perch and sees the disciples in the boat, straining at the oars against an adverse wind. I’m not sure how long it took Jesus to get down there, but next we hear that it’s early morning and Jesus is walking toward them on the water. Apparently the wind only inhibited boats.
If you remember from our other boat stories, some of the fellas were fishermen, but most were not. The sea was a place of mystery and fear. People died out there. There could be anything below that surface; you couldn’t see down very far. There was seaweed that wrapped itself around your legs; at least you hoped it was seaweed! Fish nibbled your toes, although you were never quite sure if something with a bigger mouth and bigger teeth and a bigger appetite was nearby. Point is, anything could happen out there. And the stories--
So Jesus just goes bopping across the water and looked like he was going to pass them by, actually. He must have been trucking, huh? And the disciples are really straining and going nowhere. Then they see him. Except they don’t recognize him in the half light, through the haze of tiredness. What they see is an apparition coming toward them! Quickly! Some said that the shades of the sea’s victims walked again at night. Whatever it was, it was not normal, it was not real, and it definitely wasn’t right!
Jesus could see that were scared out of their minds, so he identifies himself. In the NRSV, it says: “Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.” In Greek, that it is I is written as egw eimi. Remember when Moses was out on Mt. Horeb, watching his flock by night? Wait – wrong story. Moses is up on Mt. Horeb and he sees the burning bush, and the voice of God says I am the God of your father? In the LXX, with which Mark’s readers would have been most familiar, that I am is egw eimi. Mark’s readers would have caught that allusion, that Jesus identifies himself here as God.
What do you think, comforting or not? It’s either, Oh, good. We’re safe now. God is here. Or it’s, Oh, nuts. It’s so bad we’ve crossed clean over and God is here. Out of the frying pan…
While the disciples were still gaping in disbelief, Jesus climbs aboard and the wind almost magically calms. This verse is key: And they were utterly astounded, 52 for they did not understand about the loaves, but their hearts were hardened. We SEE the disciples’ story line taking a nose dive. They are on a losing streak like the Giants before the All Star break. Not only are they giving up their power, they have no understanding. Just like the long ago pharaoh, their hearts are hardened.
(You think readers and listeners didn’t get all the Hebrew scripture references? Think about it: we just had the story of magic bread, like manna, in the wilderness. Then Jesus said I am, just like the burning bush. Now the hardening of hearts. Yes, Mark intended to show these connections and yes, the people caught them. In this largely illiterate culture, writers used parallels to point and to help people remember.)
The next two verses sum it all up for us: 53 When they had crossed over, they came to land at Gennesaret and moored the boat. 54 When they got out of the boat, people at once recognized him. That tells us the bottom line; they turns back into him. People weren’t interested in the disciples anymore; they had nothing to offer, no truths to tell, and no healing power to back it up.
For Jesus, on the other hand, business was booming. He was more powerful and popular than ever. People are coming from all over, bringing their sick on mats to wherever they heard he was. 56 And wherever he went, into villages or cities or farms, they laid the sick in the marketplaces, and begged him that they might touch even the fringe of his cloak; and all who touched it were healed. What does that last line remind us of?
We have two story lines in this chapter: the disciples, who start kind of low. They are just followers, after all. Then they go out on their own, and their line goes way up. Now, at the end, they are lower than they were at the beginning, almost like a big bell curve, except we have no idea just how far down they can sink. Jesus, though, the line starts out low, when he is rejected in his hometown. After that, his story only goes one direction: up.
What a ride, huh? Somebody should make a movie out of this!
What’s the take away? What do we get from all this beside a really interesting story?
My Greek buddy blogger, D. Mark Davis, sums up the chapter like this:
Everything about vv.53-56 speaks to the ministry, popularity, and power of Jesus. I would argue that the twelve – having once fulfilled their calling as apostles – have now lapsed back into ignorant and fearful followers. They are followers, one must give them that much credit. But, they are not participating in the way that they had been called and empowered to participate. They are now more ‘hangers on’ than ‘co-workers.’
I love that we saw the disciples as called and empowered to participate. Just like us. We are called and empowered to participate as well.
What we do in our world doesn’t look exactly like what they did in their world. Rarely are people miraculously healed these days. You might hear about someone once in a while, but it’s usually written up in the Enquirer, possibly fake and more than a little dubious.
I feel called and empowered to share God’s love through word and deed. I hope that my ramblings on Sunday mornings are a bit edifying, that they make you think, that they help you see our world and our God differently and more clearly. Although I don’t get out into the big, wide world as much as I used to, I hope my actions speak of love and gentleness. There is enough of hardness and cruelty in the world.
I hope you all feel called and empowered to be God’s co-workers, too. God might have started this world all those thousands, millions of years ago, but we are God’s hands now. God works through our actions. I don’t want you to think that God’s hands are tied without us; the God I believe in is powerful enough to accomplish any end. I just think it’s an honor to be invited to participate. God not only loves us, just as we are and no matter what, but God also invites us to help in the continued formation of this amazing world.
Every smile you give. Every kind word you speak. Every check you write for your favorite cause. Every dollar you stash into a beggar’s cup. Every re-usable bag you take to the grocery. Every paper you recycle. Every dish you wash, and every plant you water. There are countless ways to say yes to God. Some are huge, but most are small.
Many people quote Gandhi about being the change you want to see in the world. I say be the love, God’s love.
May we witness to the love of God by our every deed and word. Hallelujah, and amen.
July 19, 2015
Normally, the lection for today is Mark 6:30-34, 53-56, which, as you can tell, is a little disjointed. I had to go back myself and read the intervening verses, so that I was clear about what was happening. Then I looked ahead to next week. It’s these same missing stories, but in John, not Mark. Well--
We use a three year cycle: A= Matthew, B = Mark, and C = Luke. Bits of John get stuck here and there, sometimes because it has great narrative found nowhere else – think foot washing, Lazarus and the Samaritan woman at the well – and sometimes, I think, just because the lectionary committee felt they should include more.
I disagree with their call here. The whole 6th chapter of Mark has an important story arc. I want to look at this chapter as a whole, for the story it tells. I’m sure the John version has other things to say, and we’ll probably hit them in three years. But this week and next, we are going to let Mark sing!
Oh, by the way, this is part one of a two part sermon, so be sure to tune in next week--
Mark 6:30-56 The apostles gathered around Jesus, and told him all that they had done and taught. 31 He said to them, “Come away to a deserted place all by yourselves and rest a while.” For many were coming and going, and they had no leisure even to eat. 32 And they went away in the boat to a deserted place by themselves. 33 Now many saw them going and recognized them, and they hurried there on foot from all the towns and arrived ahead of them. 34 As he went ashore, he saw a great crowd; and he had compassion for them, because they were like sheep without a shepherd; and he began to teach them many things. 35 When it grew late, his disciples came to him and said, “This is a deserted place, and the hour is now very late; 36 send them away so that they may go into the surrounding country and villages and buy something for themselves to eat.” 37 But he answered them, “You give them something to eat.” They said to him, “Are we to go and buy two hundred denarii[i] worth of bread, and give it to them to eat?” 38 And he said to them, “How many loaves have you? Go and see.” When they had found out, they said, “Five, and two fish.” 39 Then he ordered them to get all the people to sit down in groups on the green grass. 40 So they sat down in groups of hundreds and of fifties. 41 Taking the five loaves and the two fish, he looked up to heaven, and blessed and broke the loaves, and gave them to his disciples to set before the people; and he divided the two fish among them all. 42 And all ate and were filled; 43 and they took up twelve baskets full of broken pieces and of the fish. 44 Those who had eaten the loaves numbered five thousand men.
45 Immediately he made his disciples get into the boat and go on ahead to the other side, to Bethsaida, while he dismissed the crowd. 46 After saying farewell to them, he went up on the mountain to pray.
47 When evening came, the boat was out on the sea, and he was alone on the land. 48 When he saw that they were straining at the oars against an adverse wind, he came towards them early in the morning, walking on the sea. He intended to pass them by. 49 But when they saw him walking on the sea, they thought it was a ghost and cried out; 50 for they all saw him and were terrified. But immediately he spoke to them and said, “Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.” 51 Then he got into the boat with them and the wind ceased. And they were utterly astounded, 52 for they did not understand about the loaves, but their hearts were hardened.
53 When they had crossed over, they came to land at Gennesaret and moored the boat. 54 When they got out of the boat, people at once recognized him, 55 and rushed about that whole region and began to bring the sick on mats to wherever they heard he was. 56 And wherever he went, into villages or cities or farms, they laid the sick in the marketplaces, and begged him that they might touch even the fringe of his cloak; and all who touched it were healed.
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, oh God, our rock and our redeemer. Amen.
I… am an introvert. I’ve lived alone, oh, wait, Norma will be mad if she finds out I said that. I’ve lived without human companionship for four years now, and I kinda like it. Not having to compromise on anything from what’s for dinner, what will we watch to it’s hot in here – kind of nice. Not to mention the peace and quiet!
I know it’s hard to tell of a Sunday morning that I’m an introvert, but trust me. Last week, I slept for two hours when I got home. Actually, many pastors are introverts. I’m not the only one taking the Sacred Sunday Afternoon Nap. Just like the disciples, we need some down time to recharge.
As our pericope opens, the disciples have just returned from their first mission trip, and they are dying to tell Jesus all about it! Probably kept interrupting each other, talking over each other, trying to out-do each other: Oh, yeah? That’s nothing! In this one town we cast out six demons!
Let’s face it: when they first got sent out, they were scared. They’d never healed anyone, only watched. Why should anyone listen to anything they have to say? They were timid when they started out. Finally someone brought them, like, a sick goat or something. There they were, kneeling down, eyes all scrunched up, praying that this will work. When they opened their eyes, the goat had scampered off. People started bringing them tougher cases. Uncle Fred with the limp. Cousin Ted who was blind in one eye. Finally they brought Grampa Frank, who had about 20 minutes left to live; now he’s good for another 20 years.
They went from being in the entourage to stadium rock stars in a couple days. They were scared to begin with, but now they were throwing down random healings like nobody’s business. People were starting to follow them around! Now they got to tell Jesus all about it.
Yeah, they are all happy and excited and smiling. Giving each other high fives and fist bumps. Jesus is sitting there, absolutely glowing with pleasure at their successes. As the celebration winds down, the disciples start to feel the stress they’ve been under. Jesus understands. He knows that he can get overwhelmed by the demands of his ministry, and wants to prevent his disciples from burning out. (I suspect that Jesus might have been an introvert, too. We’re always hearing about him sneaking off by himself.)
So Jesus says: “Come away to a deserted place all by yourselves and rest a while.” Imagine – the disciples were rock stars now, too. There were so many people coming and going that they weren’t able to get a meal, not even a drive-thru! A little space probably sounded pretty good, a little time out from their new found fame. So they head out to the waiting boat.
Good plan, except that someone overheard those plans. Started a rumor. Started a stampede. Folks ran around the lake on shore, and were waiting for them when they got there. So much for R&R.
But Jesus is there, and he has pity on the people. He starts distracting, I mean, teaching, so the disciples could have some peace.
Here’s the thing about the sheep without a shepherd: that’s what Moses said when he was dying, in Numbers 27: 16-17: "Let the Lord...appoint someone over the congregation who shall go out before them and come in before them, who shall lead them out and bring them in, so that the congregation of the Lord may not be like sheep without a shepherd." If you remember, God appointed Joshua. That’s the name in Hebrew, which turns into Jesus in Greek.
Later that day, the disciples come traipsing back, and see Jesus teaching this huge crowd. They draw Jesus attention to the hour and suggest that he get rid of the crowd, ostensibly so they can get dinner. Here’s these guys who’ve just been bragging on their miracles, but when Jesus suggests that they take care of the crowd, they turn back into whiny know-nothings. Jesus gives them the opportunity still to be rock stars, but they choose to defer to Jesus. Had they lost their miraculous abilities? I doubt it. Just their confidence.
Then follows this exchange: “Are we to go and buy two hundred denarii worth of bread, and give it to them to eat?” 38 And he said to them, “How many loaves have you? Go and see.” First, 200 denarii is a year’s wages. Second, didn’t Jesus send them out with nothing? Why do they suddenly have bread and fish? I’m thinking; busted! Okay, technically, they weren’t on the road anymore, but still.
So Jesus does that Jesus thing, and makes five loaves and two little smoked fish go farther than Hazel or Alice ever could. I imagine the disciples mumbling to themselves about how they could have done that while they were picking up the leftovers. 5000 men (plus women and children) ate from what should have fed about three people.
What do you think the disciples and Jesus were teaching? We’re never expressly told. We have some of the teachings of Jesus recounted for us, in the beatitudes and parables and stories like the Prodigal Son and Good Samaritan. But would that have taken up eight hours? Did Jesus ever talk about contemporary issues? Perhaps things about the Romans?
If he did, I’m kind of glad these thoughts never came down to us. As a society, we’re not doing very well with what we do have, which boils down to love God and don’t be a jerk. We don’t need to get tangled in a web of words. We get stuck in knowing what to do with those culture bound ideas in the bible, things like levirate marriage and don’t plant two different kinds of seeds in one field. (Of course now it would have to be don’t plant GMO seeds and organic seeds in the same field.) What would we do with more?
Instead, we are shown compassion. Jesus shows compassion for the disciples and helps them get away to recharge. Jesus shows compassion for the people and teaches them many things. Jesus has compassion and feeds the people.
Best of all? Jesus shows blanket compassion. He didn’t make the disciples demonstrate that they’d met a quota for healing folks in order to help them get away. Jesus didn’t only feed those people who professed belief in him – especially proper, orthodox belief – before he let them have food. He saw needs for rest, education, and food, and he met those needs. He didn’t ask for credentials, creeds, proven need, and he sure didn’t ask about citizenship.
There is one saying of Jesus that I remember: Ask, and it will be given to you. Short and sweet. No conditions, no prevarications. So many of these grand theological concepts are short, sweet and easy. Then why are they so hard? Why do we as a society have such a problem with not being a jerk?
Jesus told some good stories, some interesting and puzzling parables. Most of his words need some explanation; they need to be put in a cultural context. The one thing that needs no explanation is his actions. He was kind. He was generous. He was nurturing and caring. Without exception, without requirements. He just did what he saw needed to be done. That’s graciousness. That’s compassion. That’s love.
May we all experience being the recipient of God’s gracious, unquestioning love. May we all be blessed to experience passing it on. Amen.
12 July 2015
Mark 6:14-29 Common English Bible
14 Herod the king heard about these things, because the name of Jesus had become well-known. Some were saying, “John the Baptist has been raised from the dead, and this is why miraculous powers are at work through him.” 15 Others were saying, “He is Elijah.” Still others were saying, “He is a prophet like one of the ancient prophets.” 16 But when Herod heard these rumors, he said, “John, whom I beheaded, has been raised to life.”
17 He said this because Herod himself had arranged to have John arrested and put in prison because of Herodias, the wife of Herod’s brother Philip. Herod had married her, 18 but John told Herod, “It’s against the law for you to marry your brother’s wife!” 19 So Herodias had it in for John. She wanted to kill him, but she couldn’t. 20 This was because Herod respected John. He regarded him as a righteous and holy person, so he protected him. John’s words greatly confused Herod, yet he enjoyed listening to him.
21 Finally, the time was right. It was on one of Herod’s birthdays, when he had prepared a feast for his high-ranking officials and military officers and Galilee’s leading residents. 22 Herod’s daughter Herodias[a] came in and danced, thrilling Herod and his dinner guests. The king said to the young woman, “Ask me whatever you wish, and I will give it to you.” 23 Then he swore to her, “Whatever you ask I will give to you, even as much as half of my kingdom.”
24 She left the banquet hall and said to her mother, “What should I ask for?”
“John the Baptist’s head,” Herodias replied.
25 Hurrying back to the ruler, she made her request: “I want you to give me John the Baptist’s head on a plate, right this minute.” 26 Although the king was upset, because of his solemn pledge and his guests, he didn’t want to refuse her. 27 So he ordered a guard to bring John’s head. The guard went to the prison, cut off John’s head, 28 brought his head on a plate, and gave it to the young woman, and she gave it to her mother. 29 When John’s disciples heard what had happened, they came and took his dead body and laid it in a tomb.
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, oh God, our rock and our redeemer. Amen.
Y’all know that I was a classics major in college. I’m sure you’ll be shocked when I tell you there weren’t that many of us. Less than a dozen. You could always tell who we were; we were the ones who walked around Grounds mumbling to ourselves. When we passed each other in the hallway, we’d mumble louder, in greeting.
But we weren’t totally uncool. We had our water-cooler show. All right, it was the BBC show from 1976, the series based on Robert Graves 1934 book I, Claudius. Because if you thought classics were dry and boring (Latin is a dead language: first it killed the Romans and now it’s killing me.), you should check out this historical fiction! Murder! Sex! Mayhem! Treachery! Deceit! It was awesome! Even better was that it was largely true.
Which brings us to today’s pericope, which reads more like Suetonius and less like a gospel. Actually, it reads more like a soap opera. Matthew recounts this episode in chapter 14, but it feels flat in comparison to Mark’s telling, which is kind of odd, too, as Mark is usually the briefest gospel. Luke leaves this story out completely. Why did Mark feel the need to include it, and so juicily, too? I’m still pondering that.
The first three verses are an introduction and sound a lot like the disciples’ answers to Jesus’ question, “Who do people say that I am?”, which is still ahead at the end of chapter 8: 14 Herod the king heard about these things, because the name of Jesus had become well-known. Some were saying, “John the Baptist has been raised from the dead, and this is why miraculous powers are at work through him.” 15 Others were saying, “He is Elijah.” Still others were saying, “He is a prophet like one of the ancient prophets.” 16 But when Herod heard these rumors, he said, “John, whom I beheaded, has been raised to life.”
It was 10 o’clock yesterday that I figured out that this would make a great radio play. You know, with the funky organ music for emphasis? Now we would hear the harp and see the wavy lines so we know we are having a flashback. (Can you think of any other bible stories told as a flashback? I couldn’t.)
Now we would hear Herod’s voice telling the story of how he had had John arrested and put in prison because Herod had pulled a fast one, breaking up his brother’s marriage and marrying his brother’s wife and John had had the temerity to call him out, telling him it was against the law.
A word from our sponsor—my question while studying this week: was Herod Jewish? I researched this one a bit, and the best answer I came up with is: sort of. Seems his mother was a Samaritan; close. His father’s family was from Idumea, and had converted to Judaism. Mostly, Herod claimed whatever faith was most politically expedient at the moment. (And now back to our show!)
Husband and wife were at loggerheads. Herodias wanted John dead, but Herod seemed to be afraid of John. He respected John as a righteous dude, and liked to listen to him, even though he didn’t always cotton on to what John meant. (At this moment, in my head, I started hearing Herod and Herodias having operatic arguments.)
But good things come to those who wait! No, um—Patience is a virtue? Okay, maybe not quite what the author of those words intended. But Herodias did wait, and finally an opportune moment arose, and she got her chance. Seems Herod threw himself a birthday bash, and he invited everyone who was anyone. Eating and drinking ensued. Lots of drinking.
What’s a party without some dancing? Herodias’ daughter, also called Herodias, or Salome, depending on the source, danced for the inebriated gathering. Herod was pleased. So pleased, in fact, that he promised her anything she could possibly want, up to half his kingdom.
Time for another word. It’s not like no one had ever made a stupid oath before. In the story in Judges 11 of Jephthah’s daughter, dad made an oath that he would sacrifice to God whatever first came out of his house to greet him after a military victory. Who was first out? His dog? A sheep? His only child! In Esther 5, King Xerxes made a similar promise to Queen Esther. Turned out she only wanted dinner.
About the daughter – the same Greek word is used for her as was used in just the last chapter to talk about Jairus’ daughter. I’m assuming they were of comparable age, 12 or 13. When Hollywood has gotten hold of this story, the dancer is Rita Hayworth. Not so much. Were there sexual overtones here or not? If there were, the dancer’s assumed young age makes this part a bit creepy.
So there’s Herod all drunk and bragging and promising the moon in front of his big donors. The girl runs off to find her mommy and figure out what she should ask for. A pony? A new dress? Herodias smiles that Joan Crawford smile and tells her: the head of John.
The girl goes running back to step-dad, embellishing on the way. On a platter. Immediately. And make it snappy!
Herod hears her through a wine flavored haze. You know in the movies when the action keeps going but the sound has stopped? Pretty sure Herod was experiencing that. His mouth went dry. His hands shook. We see Herodias peeking around a column, smiling, pleased with herself.
Herod looks around the room with dread. Slowly his buddies stop drinking and focus on his pale face. In response to an inquiry of how he’s feeling, he stands up, roars and throws his goblet. Now it really is quiet. All eyes are on him as he orders John’s execution. Herodias, smiling like the cat that ate the canary, slinks off.
Like I said, I wrestled with this text all week. There are other texts available. The RCL has two Hebrew bible pericopes, two Psalms and an epistle beside this. In fact, one of the commentators suggested preaching something, anything else. I couldn’t figure out what the good news was here.
What could we learn from this? Women are no good? Beware making oaths for you know not what? I’ll tell you one thing: as I’ve spent more time and more intense time studying the scriptures, I’ve come to appreciate more and more what good writers these guys were. These are not your What I did on my summer vacation essays. These authors made great use of rhetorical devices and didn’t waste a word. Everything pointed to something. Honestly? I have the best job in the world, and I hope each week I give you something to carry with you.
While this particular pericope strikes me as neither didactic nor hortatory – sorry. Sometimes I get carried away by the words. I couldn’t find that this chunk of text had anything direct to teach us or urge us to do or avoid. If it tells us anything directly, it’s that being zealous for God can get you killed.
I think that perhaps the biggest gain I had this week was learning that these writings can still surprise us. This story grabbed me and pulled me in. I was there, and Mark made me see the terror in Herod’s eyes and the grin on Herodias’ lips.
This is the only story in the gospels without Jesus at its center. It is also one of the few episodes attested to by extra-biblical literature, Josephus, to be exact. Josephus was a first century Jewish-Roman historian. His version of these events can be found in book 18 of his Jewish Antiquities:
In it, Josephus said that Herod killed John because he was nervous over the John's high level of political support in the region--"Eloquence that had so great an effect on the people might lead to some form of sedition," said Josephus.
Herod decided, therefore, that it would be much better to strike first and be rid of him before his work led to an uprising, than to wait for an upheaval, get involved in a difficult situation, and see his mistake. (Antiquities, 18, v. 2)
This story was important enough that Mark, Matthew and Josephus all told it. While perhaps as a stand alone story, it doesn’t say as much, it surely adds to our greater understanding of the complete picture of Jesus, John and the Romans. It’s an important part of the puzzle.
Our sacred texts are still opening up for us. Dare I say that God is still speaking? We still have much to learn and these texts have so much to offer. I’ve been studying them for a while now, with lesser or greater intensity. Seems like the more effort I put in, the more I get out. It’s a little amazing, really. A little humbling. Did they know, do you think, when they were writing these things down, that thousands of years later we’d still be reading them? Wrestling with them, cherishing them?
Someone once said that biblical interpretation is like an ever flowing stream, and we can add our little bits to that stream. The stream goes on. I hope that you find the little bits of that stream that I bring to be refreshing. Can’t wait to see what next week brings! Amen.
Pastoral prayer
Gracious God, you have breathed into us your creative, joyful Spirit. You have lifted us from the dust into the swirling joy of your presence. We are so grateful for all that you have done for us. Each day reminds us in many ways of your mercy and your love. Yet there are times in our lives when we have felt lost and alone. We have been hurt and frightened and wondered where you were. Remind us again of your loving presence. Place your hands of healing on our lives. Comfort us when we become afraid, lost, lonely, and fearful. Prepare us to serve you faithfully all our days.
There is so much going on in our world. We never run out of things to worry about. We can’t turn on the news without hearing of new ways we are hurting each other. With recent events in our country that make our society more liberal, we have witnessed severe backlashes of hate. We look forward to the day these abusive reactions will run out of steam and we can just be human beings, all made in your image.
We’re struggling here, God. Struggling to follow our convictions and do what we feel is right, informed by our understanding of you. Guide us. Help us to find and hold on to what is good and right. Care for us as we ride out the storms. Reassure us of your love not just for us, but for all people and the whole of creation.
Benediction
You know I’ve got this love/hate thing going with Paul, yeah? Sometimes, he just nails it. From the 4th chapter of Philippians:
4 Rejoice[c] in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice.[d] 5 Let your gentleness be known to everyone. The Lord is near. 6 Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. 7 And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Go in peace. Amen.
28 June 2015
21 When Jesus had crossed again in the boat[a] to the other side, a great crowd gathered around him; and he was by the sea. 22 Then one of the leaders of the synagogue named Jairus came and, when he saw him, fell at his feet 23 and begged him repeatedly, “My little daughter is at the point of death. Come and lay your hands on her, so that she may be made well, and live.” 24 So he went with him.
And a large crowd followed him and pressed in on him. 25 Now there was a woman who had been suffering from hemorrhages for twelve years. 26 She had endured much under many physicians, and had spent all that she had; and she was no better, but rather grew worse. 27 She had heard about Jesus, and came up behind him in the crowd and touched his cloak, 28 for she said, “If I but touch his clothes, I will be made well.” 29 Immediately her hemorrhage stopped; and she felt in her body that she was healed of her disease. 30 Immediately aware that power had gone forth from him, Jesus turned about in the crowd and said, “Who touched my clothes?” 31 And his disciples said to him, “You see the crowd pressing in on you; how can you say, ‘Who touched me?’” 32 He looked all around to see who had done it. 33 But the woman, knowing what had happened to her, came in fear and trembling, fell down before him, and told him the whole truth. 34 He said to her, “Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace, and be healed of your disease.”
35 While he was still speaking, some people came from the leader’s house to say, “Your daughter is dead. Why trouble the teacher any further?” 36 But overhearing[b] what they said, Jesus said to the leader of the synagogue, “Do not fear, only believe.” 37 He allowed no one to follow him except Peter, James, and John, the brother of James. 38 When they came to the house of the leader of the synagogue, he saw a commotion, people weeping and wailing loudly. 39 When he had entered, he said to them, “Why do you make a commotion and weep? The child is not dead but sleeping.” 40 And they laughed at him. Then he put them all outside, and took the child’s father and mother and those who were with him, and went in where the child was. 41 He took her by the hand and said to her, “Talitha cum,” which means, “Little girl, get up!” 42 And immediately the girl got up and began to walk about (she was twelve years of age). At this they were overcome with amazement. 43 He strictly ordered them that no one should know this, and told them to give her something to eat.
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, oh God, our rock and our redeemer. Amen.
Long pericope. Short introduction… I read the NRSV translation aloud just now. I’ve always held that the NRSV gives you the best bang for your translation buck. It is pretty good, but there are several slight changes I’ll make today. (Yes, that means we’ll be going over it again.)
I started studying Latin for several reasons, the biggest being to improve my English. An unexpected side effect kicked in: I found that I love being able to read in the original language! On January 27, 1800, Thomas Jefferson wrote: To read the Latin and Greek authors in their original, is a sublime luxury… I enjoy Homer in his own language infinitely beyond Pope's translation of him... I thank on my knees, him who directed my early education, for having put into my possession this rich source of delight. (Letter to Dr. Joseph Priestley)
This week I spent a lot of time in Greekland. It is amazing the nuances, some of which are not without theological significance, you can pick up in the original. With thanks to my buddy, D. Mark Davis, let’s go for a ride!
In the first verse, 21 When Jesus had crossed again in the boat[a] to the other side, a great crowd gathered around him; and he was by the sea. If you remember last week’s installment, Jesus crossed the lake, over to the gentile side. He threw some demons out of a guy, and now he’s back. The first note I will offer is about the crowd gathered around him. The Greek verb, συνήχθη, has a bit more impact than gather. Some meanings include: to constrain, to compress 2a) to press together with the hand 2a) to hold one's ears, to shut the heavens that it may not rain 2b) to press on every side 2b1) of a besieged city 2b2) of a strait, that forces a ship into a narrow channel 2b3) of a cattle squeeze, that pushing in on each side, forcing the beast into a position where it cannot move so the farmer can administer medication. It’s far more vivid than gather. It’s almost claustrophobic.
The next couple verses: 22 Then one of the leaders of the synagogue named Jairus came and, when he saw him, fell at his feet 23 and begged him repeatedly, “My little daughter is at the point of death. Come and lay your hands on her, so that she may be made well, and live.” 24 So he went with him. A leader of the synagogue – he wasn’t a priest or Levite; he was probably an upstanding, regular attender, someone with standing in the community. (B)egged him repeatedly. Yes. This verb is imperfect, which has the force of repeated action. This is a desperate man. He wouldn’t let Jesus go, but kept repeating his request, begging, and Jesus granted it.
Again in verse 24 we are told of the crowd pressing in all around.
Verses 25-27 are one big, long sentence. The actual main verb doesn’t show up til verse 27 – she grabbed his clothes. What she most likely touched was the fringe of his tallit, his prayer shawl. But she grabbed it, in desperation, just like Jairus. Immediately she knew she was healed.
Just as immediately, Jesus sensed his power, in effect, stolen. He turned round and demanded to know who grabbed his garment. Remember the crowd. People not just following him at a discrete distance, but pressing in on him from all sides. It must have been quite a commotion! But this was different than being bumped and jostled; someone had touched him with intent. Someone had stolen his power, and he wanted them to ‘fess up!
The disciples answer Jesus with, well, a little bit of attitude. Seems they forgot that just the other day this guy had owned the elements. Now they have the chutzpah to give Jesus lip? Seriously, anyone who can control the wind probably has a handle on what’s going on in this crowd.
Verse 32- this is one of my favorites, where a little Greek goes a long way. The NRSV says Jesus looked around. And so he did. The Greek also intimates that he was, well, glaring. Jesus was perturbed, or at least he gave that impression. You know, he gave The Look. (I had this teacher once…)
The second gem from the Greek in this verse is that the one who had done it is feminine. Jesus was looking for a woman, quite possibly this woman. Puts a different spin on this, yeah? Why did Jesus want or need her to step forward?
Verse 33 tells us about the fearful and trembling woman. I’d be scared, too, if I had not only just stolen this guy’s juju, but he knew! How did he know? And now he’s on the warpath. Uh oh. But she faces the music and tells the whole truth.
Then Jesus says, “Oh, okay. Now you are not only healed physically, but now you have been made whole. Depart in peace.” Oh, and he calls her daughter. Jesus claims relationship with her. Not only is she well and whole, she is no longer alone.
Back to Jairus. While all this has been going on, his daughter has died. Don’t blame the woman. If his kid was that close to death, she was going to die anyhow. And why did he wait so long to come to Jesus? Had he, like the woman (who probably took the first opportunity presented her) exhausted all other options before resorting to this, this, itinerant young upstart?
The thing about this verse is that we are told she is “quite dead.” Not mostly dead. Not nearly dead, but, she is, to quote Arlen and Harburg: morally, ethic'lly, Spiritually, physically, Positively, absolutely, Undeniably and reliably Dead (And she's not only merely dead, she's really most sincerely dead.) As a doornail. So why bother this guy?
But Jesus tells Jairus not to fear, only believe.
The three chosen disciples, James, John and Peter, Jesus and Jairus arrive at a house already rife with mourners. Except this isn’t Aunty Doris and Uncle John. These were professional mourners. Plus this was for the untimely death of a child of a pillar of the community. These folks brought their best game.
Jesus, being Jesus, asks why they mourn, because she is only sleeping. This went over like a lead balloon. They laugh at him. They deride him. They make fun of him. There’s probably catcalls and rude gestures. And they keep doing it. No let up. So what does Jesus do? He throws the bums out! All of them. No messing around.
Then he gets down to business. Taking mom and dad and the three, they go see the girl. Mom and dad are holding tightly to each other, trying not to cry, daring to hope that this fella they’ve heard so much about can do something, anything to bring their precious child back to them.
Jesus and the disciples circle the bed. Jesus takes her hand. The disciples lean forward a mite, holding their breath. Jesus strokes her hair, her face. He gently whispers for her to get up. Know what happens? She does! Immediately. Starts pacing around the room, getting the kinks out. Mom and dad rush over to embrace her. Jesus warns everybody not to say anything, but I’m not sure they heard, through their shouts of joy.
I’m always puzzled about the injunction to feed her. Why? To prove she wasn’t a ghost, like after Jesus’ resurrection? Or maybe getting resurrected was fearsome, hungry work. Or maybe it was something to keep mom busy and give the kid a chance to breathe.
Wow! What a scripture reading! There’s everything in here but the kitchen sink. Actually, there’s more in there, but I want to save some things for the next time this pericope comes up. All that was interesting, but what’s the heart of it? How can these stories touch our lives today?
Heart is the key. At Wednesday night bible study, my buddy Fred jokingly told me to get out of my head and into my heart because that’s where G_d lives. (Yes, we were talking about this text.) Fred’s a pretty insightful guy. He knows how much I live between my ears. I kept thinking about his comment all night. Then, in the morning, I finally understood.
The heart is the key. Faith comes from the heart, not from your head. In fact, I think that thinking too much is where disbelief comes from. I can talk myself out of anything. Know what I mean? When something goes bump in the night, what do we do? We talk ourselves out of (what we hope is) irrational fear. Well, unless a redwood has just crashed through your roof. That’s pretty rational.
We have a woman who has an affliction that’s lasted 12 years. 12 years! She’s spent all that she had on doctors and probably some snake oil, grasping at anything that might help. She hears about this new fella going around healing people, and when she finds out he’s coming to her town, she can’t wait to see him! But there’s a huge crowd, all around him. How will she ever get his attention among so many? Everybody wants something from him! She’s got to get to him, somehow. She knows deep in her soul that this is the one who can heal her. She’ll never get his attention. But maybe she doesn’t need that—if she can just touch his clothes…
She believed in Jesus and God’s restorative power. It was all she needed. She was healed.
Then came Jesus demand, to know who stole his power. When she confessed to him, he said it was her faith that had done the trick. Not her thoughts. Her faith. Her heart.
Jairus. I’m guessing his daughter had been sick for a much shorter time. I’m also guessing that Jesus wasn’t first on his list of options. He did wait til she was at death’s door to try Jesus. Or perhaps he had wanted to come to Jesus before, but friends had talked him out of it. “What would it look like? You – a leader in the community and the synagogue – asking this upstart for help?” So he tried everything else, until he couldn’t wait anymore. Then, in the faith that sometimes only comes with desperation, he came to Jesus.
The head people – the logical ones – were at his house, too. They made fun of Jesus. They thought it couldn’t be done. But: Faith is believing when common sense tells you not to. While Jesus is throwing those negative influences out, Jairus, like little Susan in the back seat of the car, kept repeating: I believe... I believe... It's silly, but I believe. And he did. And Jesus did it, raised his daughter from the dead.
Back in my early days in AA, one of my buddies once said, “My mind is a dangerous neighborhood, and I should never go there alone.” My mind. It’s dangerous. It can talk me into or out of lots of things. Thanks for not letting me go there alone, Fred! But my heart? That’s where faith lives. That’s where God lives.
May we each be blessed with the certainty of God in our hearts! Hallelujah, and amen!
Pastoral prayer
Good morning, God! Sometimes it feels as if we pray and pray and pray and never get your attention. Then we have weeks like this one! Last week we told you we were tired and discouraged. This week you gave us the Affordable Care Act and marriage equality.
We are still mourning our brothers and sisters who were killed by hatred in Charleston. There does seem to be a glimmer of hope, though, that the door is open for real change to happen now. Help us not to take our eyes off the prize. Give us the energy, will and enthusiasm to see this opportunity through. Help us to bridge gaps, negate hate and erase racism. Help us to make this the crack where your love can flow in.
We rejoice with all who rejoice today, but we are mindful of the many different opinions surrounding the happenings of this week. Help us engage in fruitful and respectful discussions. Help us to see each other as your beloved children.
As our denominational leaders and representatives meet together in Cleveland, bless their time. We feel we have been blessed with vision throughout the years. Help us to continue to bring your kingdom about here on earth.
Benediction
Head and heart. They are both good. God gave us brains to think with. God also gave us hearts to love with and believe with. Hopefully, our heads enhance our hearts. And hopefully, when our heads take over, we keep good friends in our hearts to bring us back to what matters most: love and faith. Go in peace. Amen.
Mark 6:1-13Common English Bible
6 Jesus left that place and came to his hometown. His disciples followed him. 2 On the Sabbath, he began to teach in the synagogue. Many who heard him were surprised. “Where did this man get all this? What’s this wisdom he’s been given? What deeds of power are being done by his hands! 3 Isn’t this the carpenter? Isn’t he Mary’s son and the brother of James, Joses, Judas, and Simon? Aren’t his sisters here with us?” They were scandalized by him.
4 Jesus said to them, “Prophets are honored everywhere except in their own hometowns, among their relatives, and in their own households.” 5 He was unable to do any miracles there, except that he placed his hands on a few sick people and healed them. 6 He was appalled by their disbelief.
Then Jesus traveled through the surrounding villages teaching.
7 He called for the Twelve and sent them out in pairs. He gave them authority over unclean spirits. 8 He instructed them to take nothing for the journey except a walking stick—no bread, no bags, and no money in their belts. 9 He told them to wear sandals but not to put on two shirts. 10 He said, “Whatever house you enter, remain there until you leave that place. 11 If a place doesn’t welcome you or listen to you, as you leave, shake the dust off your feet as a witness against them.” 12 So they went out and proclaimed that people should change their hearts and lives. 13 They cast out many demons, and they anointed many sick people with olive oil and healed them.
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, oh God, our rock and our redeemer. Amen.
We’re going to start out with a little guessing game today. You ready? What do all these people have in common? What do all these people have in common: Al Jarreau, Liberace, Alfred Lunt, Les Paul, William Rehnquist, Spencer Tracy, Gene Wilder, Colin Kaepernick, and me? Technically, I guess you could leave off Les Paul, if that helps. Kurt, I know you have this one. No spoilers!
All these folks were born in and around Milwaukee. Les Paul was born in Waukesha, a few miles west of Milwaukee. But, yup, we all know what a bubbler is. We all have the same hometown. Know what happens if we go back? (Okay. 5 of the 9 are dead, but you know what I mean!) Generally, we’d be received with wild enthusiasm. I guess for Kaep, it depends on what kind of season he’s had. But even I would be greeted with warm smiles, a slap on the back and a “Hey! Good to see you! How ya doing?”
Know what Jesus got when he went back to his hometown? In Luke’s version of this story, they tried to throw him off a cliff. Not exactly what you’d call a warm reception.
They didn’t have the internet back then, but surely Jesus’ reputation preceded him. Jesus, who stilled the storm. Jesus, who cast out demons. Jesus, who healed many people. Jesus, who raised the dead! In fact, we know his reputation preceded him, because of that story where his family tried to get him to come along home quietly. Gossip, I mean, news of Jesus was making the rounds.
No one should have been surprised when he started teaching in the synagogue that Sabbath. I imagine the old timers sat back and got ready to give the poor guy a chance, possibly anticipating he’d make a fool of himself. Jesus astonished everyone, though, by his wise, powerful and insightful words. Soon the same elders of the community were asking themselves and each other: “Where did this man get all this? What’s this wisdom he’s been given? What deeds of power are being done by his hands! 3 Isn’t this the carpenter? Isn’t he Mary’s son and the brother of James, Joses, Judas, and Simon? Aren’t his sisters here with us?”
It seems they started out kind of impressed, but then they realized that this was little Josh. Remember when he skinned his knee? Remember his first attempt at building shelves? Man, those were bad! Never good at sums, either. Good thing he hit the road. He’d never make it as a carpenter. The more they talked, the more embarrassing, awful stuff they came up with.
Doesn’t matter how accomplished you become. When you go home you’re still that same, awkward kid. Take this guy, for example—he is a Professor of Geography and Environmental Planning. Got his BA, University of Minnesota; MS, PhD, from Penn State. His major research interests are historical geography and military geography, especially the military geography of conflicts in the period from 1790 to 1918. He has presented papers on the Military Geography of Mid-Nineteenth Century Revolutions and Rebellions at the Biennial Meeting of International Conference for Military Geosciences, in Edinburgh, Scotland, Spring 2013, on the Geography of Desert Warfare in North Africa, 1940-1943 at International Conference for Military Geosciences, Desert Research Institute, Las Vegas, Nevada, and is the co-principal investigator on a research project using Geographic Information Systems to investigate the geographic distribution of foster children. He is a former President, Military Geography Specialty Group, Association of American Geographers. He teaches courses in Environmental Geography, Computer Mapping, Geographic Information Systems and its applications.
Pretty impressive, huh? Would it make any difference if I told you when he comes to church, he and his wife sit right over there? Actually, when I look at his list of accomplishments, it is pretty impressive. Probably be more so if I didn’t also call him brother. I knew him when…
All these thoughts are going through the elders who were at the synagogue that day. Isn’t this the snot nosed kid who cried a lot? Now here he is, trying to tell us what’s what? Who does he think he is?
You know how we always say that America is the land of opportunity? You can grow up to be anything you want: writer, astronaut, president, minister. (Just one side trip to Greekland—the word translated as carpenter is teknos. It can mean anyone who builds.) My dad was a teknos, an electrician and jack of all trades. Both my grandfathers were teknoi, one a gem cutter, my dad’s dad a blacksmith and jack of all trades. I used to be a tekna, a sheet metal worker and jack of all trades. Then I got an education, and now I teach in the synagogue on the Sabbath. But I changed my station. All us kids did; we are now a professor, an IT specialist, and my sister was a doctor. But we all started out with blue collar jobs, usually to put us through school.
Didn’t work that way in ancient Israel. What you were born, you stayed. (One of the more mind boggling things, for me, anyhow, that I read this week was that Jesus was most likely illiterate.) Jesus on the road, he was a rock star. He was a healer and preacher extraordinaire. He did mighty works with those hands. At home, in Nazareth? He’s just this guy, this carpenter, whose hands are nothing out of the ordinary. He never had any special training. Yet here he comes, and he’s telling us about the kingdom of God? Have you forgotten who you are, kid? We haven’t!
So we hear that Jesus isn’t able to do anything, oh, except he healed a few people. (I’d like to have a bad day like Jesus!) The folks of the town, like Pharaoh of old, have hardened their hearts. I guess it was an object lesson for the disciples: you are not going to be loved everywhere you go. Jesus, having taught the disciples, sends them into the breach. Now they know what success and failure both look like. Jesus tells them not to waste their precious resources on places that reject them and their message, but tells them to shake the dust off and get the lead out.
I always assumed that faith plays some part in healings. Both folks last week, it seems faith had lots to do with it. Kit, you asked me last week how these stories make me feel. Me, who would definitely go running – okay, limping slowly - to Jesus for healing were it possible. What do these stories say about my faith? Yeah, I’ve always taken it that I somehow lack the appropriate measure of faith. I am found wanting.
I was a bit relieved, then, this week when I read this in a commentary by Brian Stoffregen, a Lutheran pastor in AZ:
Faith is not mentioned in most of the miracles in Mark. One could also do a brief review of "prayer" and miracles. Sometimes the healed asked for healing, sometimes they did not. Divine miracles are not under our control, either by our faith or by our prayers. They come from the will and power of God.
That’s a relief! Maybe I’m not such a loser after all! Divine miracles are not under our control. They come from the will and power of God.
What does this mean for our faith and our prayer life? I’m so confused. On the one hand, we are saved through grace alone. All have sinned and come short of the glory of God, as Paul says in Romans 3:23. It is through no virtue of our own that God has invited us to be part of the Kingdom. Sola gratia!
Yet last week’s stories and this week’s story seems to point to faith having something to do with the whole nine yards. Jesus even chided those rascally disciples (whom he’s now sending out into the big wide world) about their lack of faith. What gives?
Another contemporary commentator I like a lot, David Lose (another Lutheran?), had this to say:
But what if what's at stake here isn't a matter of God's ultimate purposes or our eternal destinies. After all, it's not like Jesus couldn't do anything there. I mean, I'm sure the people he healed were glad of his miraculous ministrations. What if, rather, Mark is simply inviting us to contemplate the possibility that we have actually have something to do, that we have an important role to play in the manifestation of the kingdom. To say it another way: this isn't about salvation, it's about the role each one of us is invited to play in sensing, experiencing, and making known God's will and work in the world.
I would also add making God’s love known in the world.
How about that? We don’t have to worry about salvation; God’s got that. We are, however, invited to help bring God’s kingdom into greater fruition, here on earth. Thy kingdom come, on earth as it is in heaven. We are invited not only to participate and be in the kingdom, we are invited to be God’s partners in enlarging the kingdom, so that it enfolds and cradles the whole world and everything in it. God invites us to be partners in creation! How cool is that?
When we look around at our world, what do we see that could use God’s creative touch? We definitely need to advocate for and take better care of God’s creation. Little things, like recycling and driving less, along with big things, like protecting rainforests, are all necessary acts for being partners in creation. We need to advocate for all God’s creatures, large and small, wild and domestic.
Speaking of all God’s creatures, we are our brother’s (and sister’s) keepers. What you have done for the least of these… It doesn’t matter the color, creed, national origin – wait, what does it say on the back of the bully?
The Guerneville Community Church is an open and affirming congregation of the United Church of Christ. We believe that God brings us together in worship and that our community of faith knows some measure of God’s grace, compassion, mercy, justice, and peace. It is our desire to share these gifts of God with you, regardless of your age, race, marital status, physical condition, sexual orientation, ethnic or economic background.
We need to add gender identity, but that pretty much covers it. Whenever anyone needs help, we have been authorized to assist. Sometimes helping is complex and possibly costly and sometimes it’s as easy as saying yes. God has given us the green light.
It’s easy to become overwhelmed by the needs of this world. Know what’s even easier? Saying yes to God and opening the doors to the possibility of true healing, true equity and true peace. May God help us get to yes! Hallelujah, and amen.
Pastoral Prayer
God of sojourners, we give you thanks for this country of ours. We are a country of immigrants, only a very small minority of people being truly native. Whether it is we ourselves who came, our parents, or folks way back when, we were all either running from or searching for - running from war and persecution, searching for greater economic opportunity. On these shores, we have been safe.
Help us to recognize ourselves in today’s immigrants. Help us to give over a bit and make room. Help us to lend a hand and welcoming smile, as we would like to be greeted. We realize this hasn’t always been the way, with foreigners treated as dangerous, and anyone different was met with suspicion.
Help us to be our better selves. Help us to better reflect your grace and mercy to all around us. Help us to be your true partners in creation, caring for all.
Thank you for giving us space in which we can be free to pursue our dreams, our ambitions, our heart’s desires. We are a country divided on many issues. Help us to treat with respect those with whom we disagree. Give us the courage to stand with those who are still oppressed. Protect those who cannot protect themselves.
We are far from perfect here in America. We are still having growing pains. Help us to grow into individuals and communities of which you can be proud.
Benediction
It’s been a crazy couple of weeks. A lot has changed in our country, maybe even in ourselves. The only constant is change, right? But one thing, one thing, never changes. It’s like a picture in a frame. God loves us, each and every one of us. Hallelujah, and amen!
21 June 2015
Mark 4:35 On that day, when evening had come, Jesus said to them, “Let us go across to the other side.” 36 And leaving the crowd behind, they took him with them in the boat, just as he was. Other boats were with him. 37 A great windstorm arose, and the waves beat into the boat, so that the boat was already being swamped. 38 But he was in the stern, asleep on the cushion; and they woke him up and said to him, “Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?” 39 He woke up and rebuked the wind, and said to the sea, “Peace! Be stilled!” Then the wind ceased, and there was a dead calm. 40 He said to them, “Why are you afraid? Have you no faith?” 41 And they feared a great fear and said to one another, “Who in the world is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?”
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, oh God, our rock and our redeemer. Amen.
I… have no life plan. I am the poster child for what happens when you have no plan. It took me til age 50 to get the job I really wanted. Not saying it hasn’t been an interesting life; it’s been quite the ride. I’ve worked construction, in music publishing, retail, at an amusement park and a library, a hospital, and now finally find myself here with you.
My epitaph used to be, “I’ve felt this way before.” As a sober person, that doesn’t apply so much. From my dad, I inherited the ability to understand maps and blueprints very well. Dad could find the best and most interesting routes between two places! Milwaukee is a city of over 1,000,000 people and has an extensive freeway system. Dad avoided it. Because I inherited this trait, my life has been so much richer! I found the 9th Street egrets this way. I’m sort of an It’s-all-about-the-journey kind of person. Now my epitaph is, “Now it really IS about the destination!”
Journeys. The bible is full of them. Stories start out with God saying , “Lek leka!” Get going! So often the phrase might as well be Once upon a time. Everybody traveled. They went to Egypt, went to find a wife, fled a brother or Pharaoh or famine, wander in the wilderness, or went into exile. The book of Acts traces the first mission trips of Peter and Paul. I’m surprised we never saw Bing and Bob and Dorothy Lamour along for the ride. The gospels are largely Jesus wandering around and teaching and healing.
Today Mark gives us another journey, in just six packed verses. Jesus wants to go to the other side of the Sea of Galilee, which has a circumference of 33 miles (8x13 miles), so boating across it is preferable to walking around it. However, because of the topography, it is prone to storms. I got this explanation from Christananswers.net:
Such storms result from differences in temperatures between the seacoast and the mountains beyond. The Sea of Galilee lies 680 feet below sea level. It is bounded by hills, especially on the east side where they reach 2000 feet high. These heights are a source of cool, dry air.
In contrast, directly around the sea, the climate is semi-tropical with warm, moist air. The large difference in height between surrounding land and the sea causes large temperature and pressure changes. This results in strong winds dropping to the sea, funneling through the hills. (venturi)
The Sea of Galilee is small, and these winds may descend directly to the center of the lake with violent results. When the contrasting air masses meet, a storm can arise quickly and without warning. Small boats caught out on the sea are in immediate danger.
What do you think it was like? We know that four of the disciples – Peter, James, John, and Andrew – were fishermen with lots of experience on that lake, and that at least sometimes they fished all night. They weren’t unaware of the vicissitudes of the lake.
Jesus had been in a boat most of the day, teaching. They had probably had dinner on the shore, maybe fish (tilapia), and were probably looking forward to relaxing around the fire, talking, singing, sleeping under the stars. Contentment. But now Jesus wants, like a chicken, to get to the other side. With a wee bit of grumbling, nine land lubbers and four experienced guys get in a boat, or boats. We hear there was more than one boat on the lake that evening. The boats were in the neighborhood of 30’ long and 7-8’ wide and about four feet or so deep. Fishing boats would have a sail as well as about four oars.
I wish I had a Way-back machine! I wouldn’t fancy getting wet and seasick. But if we were able to eavesdrop on a couple of disciples, say, maybe, Andrew, a seasoned sailor, and Philip, also known as the Troublemaker, what might we hear?
I bet Philip was grumbling. “Why does he have to go now? We just had dinner. What’s wrong with relaxing a little? And I just don’t like this lake! I’ve heard stories…”
Andrew was rolling his eyes, trying to get the boat ready and folks settled. “Just get in and hang on, would ya? Bunch of old wives’ tales.”
“You sure I can’t walk around and meet you tomorrow night?”
Andrew sighs impatiently and points to the empty seat next to his. Jesus settles in the back of the boat, sort of curled up.
The fellas push the boat out a ways, clamber aboard, and hoist the sail. Once they are underway, Andrew sits down. It appears that Jesus is, what? Sleeping?
About a quarter of the way across, the breeze picks up. Philip, sensitive to the change, well, any change, really, starts looking around. He also starts looking a little green as the waters get a might choppy. He looks at Jesus, who’s sleeping soundly. He looks back at Andrew.
“Think we should wake him up?” asks Philip the Troublemaker.
Andrew plays with a rope for a moment before responding. “Nah. Wind always picks up this time of day.”
A few minutes later, the waves are starting to splash over the edge of the boat. Another minute and the waves are tossing the boat and starting to fill the bottom. The sailors have swung into action mode and struck the sail. The boat is filling so rapidly that buckets are handed out.
“What about – huhn – now? Should we wake him now?” whined the Troublemaker between buckets.
“No!” shouted Andrew, in order to be heard above the increasing gale. “I’ve seen way worse, ye faint of heart.”
“What was that?”
“What?”
“Over there, in the water! I saw Leviathan!” The Troublemaker turns white beneath the green.
“Oh, for Elijah’s sake! There is nothing there! You are seeing things. Keep bailing!”
The wind is whipping up the waves pretty good now, giving them quite the ride. Several times the boat was almost stood straight up by the waves. Philip would like to be sick, but that would require letting go.
Philip is past caring what Andrew thinks. He slowly and carefully works his way over to Jesus and starts yelling: “Jesus! Wake up! We’re dying over here! Wake up! Wake up, wake up! Wakeupwakeupwakeup!”
Jesus stirs, eventually rubbing a sleepy eye. He takes in what’s happening. Without fully sitting up, he tells the wind to knock it off and the waves to be stilled. Or was he talking to Philip just there?
Just like that, the wind and the waves just… stop.
One of the disciples, who had been leaning into an oncoming wave, fell overboard when the boat stopped rolling. As the others dragged him back aboard, Jesus looked at the bedraggled crew.
“Why are you afraid? Have you no faith?” With that, he curled back up.
The lake was smooth as glass. The disciples just sat, looking. Someone looked up and saw the numberless stars. Slowly, they managed to catch their breath.
Then it hit them.
Jesus, their Jesus, their beloved teacher whom they been following and watching him heal and throw out demons – their Jesus had just controlled the elements. I mean, sure, the healings were cool. But he wasn’t the only person who could cleanse lepers. Why do you think there were laws for what they should do after they’d been cleansed? There were others able to cast out demons (although some people said they were great, big fakers and frauds). But this? This was something else again.
“Who in the world is this guy?”
They looked at Jesus as he lay asleep in the stern, a little drool sneaking out the corner of his mouth. They looked at him like they hadn’t seen him before.
After a minute, Peter broke out the oars. Andrew pointedly gave one to Philip.
“Huh? What do you mean, row? Isn’t this a sailboat?”
Andrew licked his finger and held it up. “Do you feel any wind?”
This is an amazing story. It’s got action, and people in distress and the hero who saves them. But what does it have to do with us, today? Let’s look at just one thing. Why did Jesus ask them “Why are you afraid? Have you no faith?” The way I see it, it’s one of three things: They woke him too soon, too late, or at all.
First, that they woke him at all. Jesus has requested a trip across the lake from his fishermen buddies. He trusts them; they’ve done this all their lives. So he’s tired and falls asleep after getting in the boat. He knows they can handle just about anything out here. I think he is showing trust and faith in his buddies more than in God. Is he puzzled and maybe a bit disappointed that they woke him for something as commonplace as a storm.
Secondly, maybe they woke him too soon. Maybe the worst was already over and they showed they had no faith in themselves. If they had held out five minutes more, perhaps the storm would have dissipated. Did they fall back on their Jesus crutch too soon?
Or, lastly, did they wake Jesus too late? Had they put too much stock in their own abilities to handle things by themselves? Should they have woken Jesus at the first sign of trouble? Did they wait too late, until the only way out of the situation was a miracle?
Any of these could be true, but I know which one is true for me. I’m a wait too late kinda gal. I keep trying to prove I’m a big girl and can handle things on my own. Then I wonder why I’m overwhelmed and overloaded. I’m so far under the heap that I can’t find my way out. God is my last resort, when I’ve run out of all other options. When I’ve got nowhere left to turn, that’s when I turn to God.
Jesus would be correct in questioning my faith at those points. If I did have a true, working faith, wouldn’t I be sharing my burden with God a lot earlier, letting God guide me instead of waiting until God has no choice but to still my storms? And, of course, being human, I do this same thing, over and over, repeatedly, redundantly. Each time I say I’ve learned, but…
It kind of makes me wonder what they left behind, on the shore, beside the crowd. Might they have had bigger trouble than the storm?
May we learn to call on God for whatever and whenever we need. It’s true that nothing is too big for God, but we could probably save ourselves a lot of needless stress and heartache if we’d learn to call God sooner! Hallelujah, and amen.
Friday was Juneteenth. It marks 150 years since the last pocket of slavery in America was freed by Union troops in Galveston, Texas—a date still celebrated by many today. Also on this date in 1862 the United States Congress outlawed slavery which nullified the Dred Scott v. Sandford decision. Also, on this date the Civil Rights Act of 1964 finally passed after an 83 day filibuster in the United States Senate.
God, we are tired. I know we usually start out by addressing you as merciful and loving God, or gracious and caring God, but today, we’re tired. We are tired of all the violence and brutality. We are tired of the killing and shooting, always in the name of some cause, often in your name.
We are tired and we don’t understand. What can possibly cause anyone to think they have the right to take a life like it belonged to them? Don’t they know that all lives belong to you?
We are tired and we are confused. What can we do? What are we supposed to do? How can we help? The problems seems so huge and we are so small.
We are tired and we are scared. No offense, but it kind of feels like you are falling down on the job, God. Like you are asleep at the wheel, or worse yet, like you just don’t care. Don’t leave us on our own! It’s pretty obvious that we humans aren’t doing such a good job of things. We are killing each other and showing very little care for the rest of your creation. We need you now more than ever.
We are tired but we are hopeful. We have all these wonderful and amazing stories of how you have worked throughout history. We know you are still speaking, and trust you are still acting, too.
We are tired, but we are trusting. Trusting that you will be here, just like you always have, to catch us when we fall, to comfort us in our distress, and to see us through as we make this journey.
God, we are all these things and more: tired, trusting, confused, hopeful, and scared. While we are a giant mix of emotions, we are also certain. Certain of your steadfast love, mercy and grace. We would ask that you never leave us, but we know we don’t have to, because you never will.
Benediction
Sometimes the news makes us afraid to turn on the tv or open the paper. But know this, deep down in your bones: God is with us, every step of the way. Go in peace. Amen.
7 June 2015
Mark 3:20-35
3:20 and the crowd came together again, so that they could not even eat.
3:21 When his family heard it, they went out to restrain him, for people were saying, "He has gone out of his mind."
3:22 And the scribes who came down from Jerusalem said, "He has Beelzebul, and by the ruler of the demons he casts out demons."
3:23 And he called them to him, and spoke to them in parables, "How can Satan cast out Satan? 3:24 If a kingdom is divided against itself, that kingdom cannot stand.
3:25 And if a house is divided against itself, that house will not be able to stand.
3:26 And if Satan has risen up against himself and is divided, he cannot stand, but his end has come. 3:27 But no one can enter a strong man's house and plunder his property without first tying up the strong man; then indeed the house can be plundered.
3:28 "Truly I tell you, people will be forgiven for their sins and whatever blasphemies they utter; 3:29 but whoever blasphemes against the Holy Spirit can never have forgiveness, but is guilty of an eternal sin"-- 3:30 for they had said, "He has an unclean spirit." 3:31 Then his mother and his brothers came; and standing outside, they sent to him and called him. 3:32 A crowd was sitting around him; and they said to him, "Your mother and your brothers and sisters are outside, asking for you." 3:33 And he replied, "Who are my mother and my brothers?" 3:34 And looking at those who sat around him, he said, "Here are my mother and my brothers! 3:35 Whoever does the will of God is my brother and sister and mother."
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, oh God, our rock and our redeemer. Amen.
Way in the wayback when I was in college, I took Sociology 101. Great prof, great class. One day, we had a guest lecturer. He started out by talking bout this guy he knew. He’d lent him large sums of money, which were never repaid. The guy was rude, a slob, and couldn’t return a phone call to save his life. And now, to top it all off, this idiot wanted to borrow more money. The lecturer surprised us all when he said he was going to give it, knowing he’d never see it again. Why? Because the slob was his brother.
Back about ten years ago (which would have made me about 40), we kids descended on my mom’s house for one last Christmas together. What is it? Is it being back in your childhood home? Is it being surrounded by siblings? Is it mom still at you about the same old things, like take out the garbage and turn out the light? Whatever it was, I think my average age for the entire week was 12.
Maybe you’ve seen this phenomenon in movies. One of my favorites from a few years back is Home for the Holidays. Uptight sister, oblivious father, controlling mother, seriously annoying brother, with our protagonist just trying to make it through the weekend.
Families. There’s just something about them, ain’a? Every single one is odd in its own, special way. Thus the pictures on the front of today’s bulletin. We have June, Ward, Wally and Beaver Cleaver on one side, with Gomez, Morticia, Wednesday, Pugsly, Granny, Lurch and Thing on the other. Admittedly, one of these charmingly quirky families is a bit weird, I mean, odder than the other. You just know June was putting something in those cookies!
Today we get a little nugget about Jesus’ family. Just a couple, little enticing lines. Let’s read those couple verses again: 3:20 and the crowd came together again, so that they could not even eat. 3:21 When his family heard it, they went out to restrain him, for people were saying, "He has gone out of his mind." 3:31 Then his mother and his brothers came; and standing outside, they sent to him and called him. 3:32 A crowd was sitting around him; and they said to him, "Your mother and your brothers and sisters are outside, asking for you." 3:33 And he replied, "Who are my mother and my brothers?" 3:34 And looking at those who sat around him, he said, "Here are my mother and my brothers! 3:35 Whoever does the will of God is my brother and sister and mother."
Actually, in the Greek, it doesn’t say family. It says those who were close to him. But family is a good interpretation. Folks who cared about him. The truly ambiguous thing about that verse, though, is who it was that was saying that Jesus out of his mind, or, literally, beside himself. (It’s the Greek word that gives us ecstatic.) All we get is a 3rd person plural with no clear antecedent for those who were saying. “They” were saying. You know how “they” can talk.
One of my favorite commentators, David J. Lose, puts it like this:
Why is Jesus getting so much flack? I mean, we’re into just the third chapter in Mark and already he’s got the crowds wondering about him, his family afraid for him (and maybe of him!), and the religious leaders against him. And all he’s done so far is announce the coming kingdom of God, call some disciples, cast out a demon or two, and heal a bunch of sick people. Of course, one of those disciples was a tax collector, he cast out the demon and did much of his healing work on the Sabbath, and he wasn’t put off in the least when approached by a leper.
Jesus is healing, and that’s okay. He’s casting out demons, and that’s okay. He’s preaching, that’s okay. Or maybe they would be okay if he just picked one of those activities and stuck to it, didn’t do it more and more effectively than the people who were supposed to be doing it. Basically, he’s not following the rules. He’s going to get himself in trouble if he doesn’t cut it out. Enter his family.
Scott Hoezee from Calvin Seminary writes:
They have followed Jesus to check up on him, to observe what he has been up to. But the result of that kind of following is a dire conclusion: Jesus is off his rocker! He has become something of a family embarrassment, a public spectacle that they are eager to whisk out of sight. They want to take Jesus home, put him to bed, keep him quiet for a while, and then see if all this talk about casting out demons and the kingdom of his Father abates.
There is a multi-level problem here. First, those close to Jesus are concerned for him; they don’t want to see their friend and brother come to harm. Secondly, they are concerned about themselves and guilt by association. Don’t we all have that one friend or relative that when people ask us if we know s0 & so that we try to steer the conversation away from them? The black sheep.
Then Jesus, sensing either their ulterior motive or a teaching moment, makes a sweeping pronouncement about family. It doesn’t just depend on blood, almost heresy in itself in those days in which the extended family was the major social unit. You could pick with whom to join yourself, just as disciples could pick a teacher to follow. (Unless you were around Jesus; then he picked you.) Jesus is saying that these chosen bonds of love and obligation could be just as thick as blood and count just as much. You can make your family.
Unfortunately, sometimes we choose badly. Sometimes the people our hearts have chosen to love do not treat us with love in return. They might say the words and we want so much to believe! But actions speak louder than words.
Had Jesus family come to restrain him by talking some sense into him? Or were they prepared to restrain him by force? The text is unclear. What is clear, though, is that family members, both blood and chosen, do not always act in the best interests of others, often to the point of abuse and violence.
From the Safe Horizon website, these facts:
1 in 10 children suffer from child maltreatment. 1 in 16 children suffer from sexual abuse. Nearly 1 in 10 children are witnesses to family violence.
The youngest children are the most vulnerable to maltreatment. Over 25% of abused children are under the age of three while over 45% of abused children are under the age of five.
Number of children in the United States who died because of abuse or neglect in 2012: 1,593
That’s more than four per day. Why are the youngest also the most vulnerable? They can’t talk and they can’t fight back.
What’s scary, too: Researchers estimate that one-third of abused and neglected children will grow up to abuse their own children when they become parents.
Then there’s domestic violence between adults, also called Intimate Partner Violence. From US News and World Report:
Close to one in three women have been slapped, pushed or shoved by an intimate partner in their lifetimes. Nearly one in four women experience severe physical violence such as being beaten, burned, choked, slammed against something or hit with a fist. For men, almost 14 percent experience severe intimate partner violence in their lifetimes.
Half of women and half of men experience psychological aggression by a partner during their lifetimes, most often in the form of being "kept track of, demanding to know where you were and what you were doing" and "called names like ugly, fat, crazy, stupid."
Domestic violence is an extreme, but something we don’t normally talk about in church. I wanted to bring the subject up, at least. Break the ice. According to those statistics, it’s pretty pervasive in our society; we probably know someone who is effected, whether we realize it or not. Not every case of abuse, like the Duggars, hits the front page.
Less extreme and far more prevalent is just plain old disagreement. No two people in close relationship are ever going to agree on everything. Our own Padma and Robin have been giving us tips these past two weeks about how to fight fairly on Ask the Shrinks. We need one more show, though, to talk about the possibility of reconciliation. Another of my favorite commenters, Karoline Lewis, talked about that this week:
Life after disagreement and reconciliation is not about forgetting. It is not about pretending that nothing ever happened. It is about letting go of the fact that the past can be changed and choosing to live in the present reality that the relationship has changed. It can never go back to the way it was before. Yet, many would rather sever the ties altogether than live with the memory of ties that were broken. Many would rather abandon people and community for their own self-justification than to admit their own contributions to the problem. And many would rather stir up the proverbial pot than sense opportunities for kindness, graciousness, and gratitude.
The fact is, we are in a constant state of relational negotiation. The question is, how we choose to live in that state -- to pretend that it does not exist or to recognize its constant existence; to ignore its difficulty or to search in the difficulty for love; to mourn its challenges or to accept its reality.
Relationships are complicated. Relationships are hard. Relationships require hard work and maintenance. Relationships are also God-given and can be among our greatest joys in life. Relationships require love, apologies and forgiveness. They also require self-care, and sometimes the difficult decision to walk away.
May God help and guide us as we negotiate our relationships with others. May God give us the wisdom to understand that our viewpoint is not the only one. May God give us loving and forgiving hearts, that we might also know the sweetness of being loved and forgiven. Amen.
Pentecost
Acts 2 When Pentecost Day arrived, they were all together in one place. 2 Suddenly a sound from heaven like the howling of a fierce wind filled the entire house where they were sitting. 3 They saw what seemed to be individual flames of fire alighting on each one of them. 4 They were all filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages as the Spirit enabled them to speak.
5 There were pious Jews from every nation under heaven living in Jerusalem. 6 When they heard this sound, a crowd gathered. They were mystified because everyone heard them speaking in their native languages. 7 They were surprised and amazed, saying, “Look, aren’t all the people who are speaking Galileans, every one of them? 8 How then can each of us hear them speaking in our native language? 9 Parthians, Medes, and Elamites; as well as residents of Mesopotamia, Judea, and Cappadocia, Pontus and Asia, 10 Phrygia and Pamphylia, Egypt and the regions of Libya bordering Cyrene; and visitors from Rome (both Jews and converts to Judaism), 11 Cretans and Arabs—we hear them declaring the mighty works of God in our own languages!” 12 They were all surprised and bewildered. Some asked each other, “What does this mean?” 13 Others jeered at them, saying, “They’re full of new wine!”
14 Peter stood with the other eleven apostles. He raised his voice and declared, “Judeans and everyone living in Jerusalem! Know this! Listen carefully to my words! 15 These people aren’t drunk, as you suspect; after all, it’s only nine o’clock in the morning! 16 Rather, this is what was spoken through the prophet Joel:
17 In the last days, God says,
I will pour out my Spirit on all people.
Your sons and daughters will prophesy.
Your young will see visions.
Your elders will dream dreams.
18 Even upon my servants, men and women,
I will pour out my Spirit in those days,
and they will prophesy.
19 I will cause wonders to occur in the heavens above
and signs on the earth below,
blood and fire and a cloud of smoke.
20 The sun will be changed into darkness,
and the moon will be changed into blood,
before the great and spectacular day of the Lord comes.
21 And everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.[a]
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, oh God, our rock and our redeemer. Amen.
You guys know I’m from Wisconsin originally, ain’a? Ja! Back in ‘Sconsin, we drink from bubblers, go out for fish fry on Fridays and end the evening with some frozen custard down by the lakefront. We go smelting in the spring and swat mosquitos the size of bald eagles all summer. Both weeks. There’s two seasons, winter and road construction. Yup.
You can tell an outsider from how they talk, ain’a? I will always be able to slip into M’waukeese. And Dorothy will always sound like she grew up in New York, Edy, in Balamore. Really, this does have to do with Pentecost. Promise, ja hey?
Today’s pericope is so familiar to us! We hear it every year. We know it backwards and forwards. Rushing wind, tongues of fire, languages. And? You know I’m going to invite you to slow down and hear it anew.
First, we see our fellas, all tucked away in the same place, just waiting, like Jesus told them to before that ascension. I’m sure they talked a lot about recent events, wondering how they would know for sure when the Holy Spirit had been sent.
Suddenly, whoosh! Except the whooshing didn’t stop. Then they started noticing little tongues of flame above each other’s heads. I can see this in my mind’s eye. Someone is in the middle of telling a Jesus story, and James notices something above Philip’s head. You know how when you’re out to dinner with someone and you try to tell them quietly they’ve got salad dressing on their chin? You rub your chin, hoping they get the message. So James, not wanting to interrupt the speaker any more than this unexpected wind storm, anyhow, tries catching Philip’s eye and pointing discretely above his own head. Philip finally really looks above James’ head and sees that he’s on fire!
Philip springs to action, grabbing whatever was close – a bowl of breakfast porridge – to put James out. The flame flickers (in an annoyed fashion?) but doesn’t go out. Now everyone is paying attention! They are all on fire! They go running out of the house, all yelling fire and trying to put each other out. Except it doesn’t sound like they are saying fire. It sounds like guys yelling their heads off in 12 different languages.
Now they are out in the street, like 12 incoherent human candles. All the commotion has brought gawkers. Every time the disciples try to talk to each other, craziness comes out. Somebody tries scratching his head and burns his fingers. Every time somebody tries to say something, though, one of the bystanders hears his own language, and comes closer. They ask what happened. The disciples are amazed people can understand them, and start sharing the events of the morning, how they were waiting for Jesus’ promise to be fulfilled. Jesus? Of Nazareth? Yeah, that’s him. So they slowly start telling the whole story, in these new languages, to new people.
Hey – it could have happened like that!
That’s sort of the traditional reading. But! You know how much I love Greekland, and this text was awesome! One of my favorite commentators, D. Mark Davis, writes a blog called Left Behind and Loving It. In it, he gives the Greek text, verse by verse, his own translation, parses select words and gives exegetical notes. I love this guy! For me, meeting him would be like anyone else meeting Brad Pitt.
As I slowed down and read the text with the Rev. Dr. Mark, a few new things came to my attention. First, it was a sound like a violent wind, not a wind. Back in WI, we had the occasional tornado. Thankfully, I never experienced one close up, but I’ve been told that they sound like a freight train. That would get some attention from the locals.
There are many associations of God and wind in the bible. It begins in Genesis 1:2 with the ruach of God moving over the face of the deep. Ruach can be translated as both wind and spirit. Ruach drove back the waters after the flood, and a violent wind drove back the waters of the Red Sea so that the Israelites could escape. In the Greek Testament, the word for both spirit and wind is pneuma, like in apnea or pneumonia. Fire has its moments of association as well: the burning bush, the pillar of fire leading the Israelites by night. People were used to these associations and would pick up on them in Luke’s writing. This would be highlighted to a great degree since they would be reading the LXX, the Greek translation of the Hebrew texts.
The Rev. Dr. Mark translates verse three like this: And there appeared to them various languages like fire, and sat on each one of them. I like his translation. I think he is spot on. They were languages, and as each was given the ability to speak, something similar to fire, or maybe just glowing or flickering like fire, settled on them. The sentence is a simile, and uses the word ὡσεὶ, I mean, as or like.
I’ve always wondered a couple things which the text doesn’t directly tell us. Did they retain the ability to speak their own native language, or was this like the tower of Babel? My other big question was whether this was just a temporary ability. For the first question, I guess that they still needed to be able to communicate with each other, if not to plan mission activity then just to get through dinner. The second question the text doesn’t address directly, but I can infer. The indicative verb in verse three, appeared, is in the perfect. According to my Smyth’s Greek Grammar, the perfect tense implies a past action now completed, like I wrote the letter and it is now written. If that follows, then once the disciples perceived these languages, it must have stuck. (Okay, only a little envious…)
Skipping down to verse six, we are told that these simple men from Galilee were not just speaking schoolroom French, they were speaking ἰδίᾳ διαλέκτῳ, the idiomatic dialect. These fishermen were speaking these languages from far-away places like they’d grown up there. That for me was kind of like frosting.
Then in verse seven, I was startled and amused to find the exact same Greek word that the disciples had used to diss the women on Easter morning for telling outrageous stories is now used by some of the bystanders to describe them speaking languages. They were beside themselves! They were amazed, astonished and confounded.
Then in verse 13, we read that some skeptics asserted that the disciples were drunk. (I know the English says new wine, but the Greek says Γλεύκους, which has a cognate. Yes! In Greek it is sweet wine.) As a recovering alcoholic, I can tell you that I have done many things while drunk, most of them stupid, some of which I actually remember. I can honestly say that one thing I have never done while drunk is speak a foreign language like a native. Let’s face it: most likely English was a challenge. What this verse tells us is that haters gonna hate. It is, however, a great segue for Peter, who goes on to preach for many verses and makes 3000 converts in the process.
This is an amazing and captivating story. It has inspired great art and Sunday School drawings for millennia. No matter which version of events you like, the traditional portrait with tongues of fire or the update I presented this morning, one thing is perfectly clear: no one can control or contain the Spirit. She will always be disruptive, she will always come and go as she sees fit. You cannot coax her, you cannot entice her and you most definitely cannot coerce her.
We say that we welcome the Spirit. We gently and meekly repeat the phrase “Come, Holy Spirit, come!” Do we really realize the true significance of what we are saying? Are we sure we mean that? Are we sure we want her? Seems that everything gets blown to bits when she shows up. Everything gets turned on its head when she shows up. Things are never the same again after she shows up. What’s that saying? Man plans and God laughs. Sums it up.
But it seems that y’all already are familiar with disruptive. Floods are disruptive. Blackberries and other non-native species are disruptive. Sometimes the need to stop what we’re doing for food and rest is disruptive. And I think I can safely say that fund raising is disruptive!
I think maybe when we say “Come, Holy Spirit, come!” that what the spirit hears is more like “Come on, Holy Spirit, bring it!” So she does, in many ways, many exciting, adventurous ways. What have we got to be afraid of? A lot, actually. But we’re practiced hands at this disruption stuff. Wonder what new adventures await us. Come on, Holy Spirit! Bring it!