Tag Archives: Exodus

Sunday, October 11th

TWENTIETH SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST

Amos 5:6-7, 10-15
Psalm 90:12-17
Hebrews 4:12-16
Mark 10:17-31

PRAYER OF THE DAY: Almighty and ever-living God, increase in us your gift of faith, that, forsaking what lies behind and reaching out to what lies ahead, we may follow the way of your commandments and receive the crown of everlasting joy, through Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord.

Roseburg, Oregon is the site of the latest mass shooting-an event so common in our nation these days that one can hardly call it news anymore. I have no doubt that this event will elicit another angry cry from all of us who want to see this madness end. It will certainly trigger the usual run on guns and ammunition by millions fearing the imminent government seizure of their weapons. The gun industry will cry all the way to the bank. We can expect the usual mantra from the NRA: “Guns don’t kill people; people kill people.” The presidential hopefuls will get into the act, walking the tightrope between public empathy for the victims and quiet assurances to their NRA donors that nothing will change. Once the victims are buried and forgotten, life will go on-for the rest of us anyway.

I don’t have any animus against guns or gun owners per se. I grew up in Washington State on the Olympic Peninsula where hunting was second only to fishing in popularity as an outdoor sport. My parents did not hunt or own guns, but most of my friends’ families did. There were few shootings or gun accidents back then because gun owners in our community were, for the most part, responsible people who knew how to use guns, how to care for them and how to keep them locked away and out of the hands of children. Guns were something very different back then. We never thought of them as weapons. They were like fishing poles, designed to enable men and women to engage in a friendly contest with mother nature in the beauty of the wilderness.

Here I will pause and apologize to my animal loving friends who might find this characterization insensitive. Personally, I prefer not to kill animals. But in defense of my hunter friends, I would only say that their taking down a deer in the wilderness, as any number of animal predators might do, is a good deal more humane than the industrial slaughter of millions of cattle that never see anything like a natural habitat. Food for thought.

But I digress. Today guns are more than mere sporting implements. They have become the ultimate symbol of control in this increasingly violent and paranoid American cultural scene. My gun stands between me and the sweeping changes overtaking society. My gun is all that protects me from a government I can no longer trust. My gun represents my ultimate power to say “no.” When they finally come for me (whoever “they” are), I can turn my gun on them and fight to the last round. Then, in a final act of defiance, I can turn it myself. As the now well-known bumper sticker epitaph has it: “They’ll take my gun when they can pry it from my cold dead fingers.”

Despite the never ending string of school, workplace and public area shootings we have experienced over the last couple of decades, Americans for the most part remain firmly committed to retaining their fire arms. The shootings, we are told by gun control foes, are the price we must pay for maintaining our freedoms, and that requires unrestricted ownership and use of firearms. It is not surprising to me that we have become a nation that loves its guns more than its children. The Hebrew Scriptures teach us that false gods always demand the blood sacrifice of our children. It’s the price we must pay, they tell us, for the safety and protection they offer. So we hang on tight to our guns and offer the required sacrifice. The latest holocaust in Roseburg will not be the last. Molech is a hungry deity. At its root, our problem with guns is not in regulation or the lack of it. Our problem is idolatry.

Our gospel lesson tells the story of a young man who turned away from the kingdom of God because he could not let go of his wealth. Unless he had a change of heart that we don’t know of, I suspect that his money had to be pried from his cold dead fingers in the end. So it is with all the idols to which we cling so tenaciously whether guns, wealth or something else. They promise safety, security and happiness. But in the end, and only when it is too late, do we finally discover that they have robbed us of what is most dear, lied to us, betrayed us and deserted us.

Amos 5:6-7, 10-15

For some autobiographical information on Amos, I refer you to my post of Sunday, July 12th.  Israel was experiencing an economic, military and religious revival under the leadership of her King, Jeroboam II. Business was booming; the long struggle with Syria had ended in victory for Israel; the chief sanctuary of the Lord in Bethel was packed to the rafters with avid worshipers. It was morning in Israel. Yet despite all appearances to the contrary, things were rotten to the core. The courts were turning “justice to wormwood.” Vs. 7. A new commercial class had gained unprecedented wealth by ruthlessly exploiting the poor even as they patronized the temple singing the hymns to Israel’s God. Vs. 11. It was Amos’ job to tell his people that their wealth was not evidence of God’s blessing, but kindling for God’s fierce wrath. Wealth built on injustice will not be tolerated among the people called to be God’s light to the nations. So Amos calls his people to “seek the Lord and live, lest he break out like fire against the house of Joseph.” Vs. 6.

The parallels here between 8th Century Israel and 21st Century Wall Street are hard to miss. That pervasive infection of greed, selfishness and complete lack of conscience that built a mountain of phony wealth ending in a devastating crash ruining our economy is precisely the kind of sin infecting Israel. Like Amos, there were some lone voices in the business community crying out words of warning, but they were ignored. Though we can surely point to conduct by banks, mortgage brokers and venture capitalists that was absolutely despicable, I believe part of the blame for our present economic woes must fall squarely upon the rest of us who were all too willing to tolerate such conduct as long as it was growing our pensions and increasing the value of our homes. Nobody was trying to occupy Wall Street when the gravy train was on the roll.

Still and all, I think we need to be careful about drawing parallels. There is a difference between Israel and the United States of America. Israel was God’s covenant partner. She was called to be a light to the nations. She had received her freedom as a people and her land from the hand of God. She was God’s chosen people. Therefore, she was judged under the terms of the covenant relationship that her conduct had so grievously violated. The United States is not God’s chosen people. God has no covenant with America. Because America is not a party to the covenant, America is not answerable to its terms. That is not to say that God is unconcerned with what America or any other nation does or does not do. In general terms, God’s judgment falls upon all nations that practice injustice and unrighteousness. Psalm 47:8-9. In general, God judges the righteousness of a people by how they treat and care for the weakest and most vulnerable in their midst. Psalm 82:1-4. I think we can say with a reasonable degree of certainty that God is not pleased with the conduct leading up to the crash on Wall Street or with how the economic burdens resulting from that crash have been distributed. That said, Israel, as a people called by God to live in a covenant relationship reflecting a better hope for all humanity, is uniquely responsible for obedience to the terms of the covenant under which that hope is given concrete expression. So this word of Amos is more properly directed to the people of God, Israel and the church, than to Wall Street. So we need to ask ourselves how these words speak to us as disciples of Jesus.

For the first three centuries of its existence, the church had no buildings, meeting places or financial reserves. It met in people’s homes or in the open air. Not until the church came under the patronage of the Roman Empire did it begin to accumulate wealth. As both Amos and Jesus point out, wealth often looks like blessing when, in fact, it is a curse. When churches come into money, they have a tendency to become more like lawyers, businesspeople and accountants than faithful disciples. It is sobering to realize that Israel’s finest hours occurred at times when she had her back against the wall and nothing with which to defend herself. That is where she most often witnessed the saving power of God. When Israel had wealth, peace and power she tended to forget where these gifts came from and began to imagine that they were hers to do with as she wished. The church is no less vulnerable to the temptations of wealth than was Israel. We are just as apt to confuse the gift with the Giver and place our trust and confidence on the shifting sand of financial security rather than on the Rock which is Christ Jesus.

The church must never forget that she is in the business of making disciples-not growing membership, maintaining church programs and facilities or investing wealth to make more wealth. Money is not evil, but the love of money is. Most of us have a hard time having money without becoming attached to it and allowing it to run our lives. The gospel lesson is a very pointed reminder of that very thing.

Psalm 90:12-17

This gloomy psalm is attributed to “Moses, the man of God.” Vs. 1. This attribution was probably added late in the life of the Psalter. Wieser, Artur, The Psalms, The Old Testament Library (c. 1962 by S.C.M. Press, Ltd.) p. 595. That, however, is no reason to discard the possibility that the psalm’s origin was in some fashion connected to Moses. While we know that the alphabet and thus the written Hebrew language did not exist during the time of Moses, we also know that poetry originating during the time of the Judges, also pre-alphabet, was passed on in oral form and written down only centuries later. (i.e., The Song of Deborah at Judges 5:1-31). It is not so much of a stretch to suggest that the same might be true of songs sung by the people of Israel before their migration into Canaan.

However scholars might resolve the question of authorship, it is obvious from a canonical standpoint that the worshiping community of Israel associated this psalm with Moses. This is the prayer of a people that has seen years of suffering, hardship and sorrow. As God’s mediator, it is not inconceivable that Moses might have uttered such a prayer. Adding to the peoples’ misery is the knowledge that their own sins and folly are at least partly responsible for the predicament in which they find themselves. They recognize in their sorrow the just wrath of God upon the evil they have done and the just consequences of the bad choices they have made. Beyond all of this, the psalm seems to recognize a universal sorrow that goes with being human. No matter how good life may have been to us, it inevitably slips away. Our children grow up and begin living lives separate from our own. The house, once boisterous and chaotic, is now quiet and a little empty. We retire and someone else takes our place. We lose our ability to drive. We might have to move out of the home we have lived in for most of our lives. Time seems to take life away from us piece by piece. As it all comes to an end we are left with unfinished tasks, unrealized dreams, regrets about those things of which we are now ashamed, but can no longer change.

Moses might have prayed this prayer on behalf of his people as they struggled through the wilderness toward a promise he knew that he would never see fulfilled. It always seemed a tad unfair to me that God denied Moses the opportunity to enter into the land of Canaan with the people he had led for so long all on account of what seems a trivial offense. (See Numbers 20:2-13). Yet that is the way of mortal existence for all of us. We bring life to the next generation, but will never know that generation’s final destiny. Our strength leaves us before we have been able to complete the many tasks we have set for ourselves. We often die without knowing which, if any, of our efforts to achieve lasting results will bear fruit. We can only pray with the psalmist that God will establish the work of our hands and complete what we could only manage to begin.

Gloomy as it is, though, the psalm contains a ray of light. The psalmist’s prayer was answered. The psalmist concludes his/her prayer with the words: “establish thou the work of our hands upon us, yea, the work of our hands establish thou it.” Vs. 17. That we have this psalm in the scriptures, and that we will be singing it together on Sunday demonstrates that God in fact “established the work” of this psalmist’s hands. (I should mention that I owe this insight to Professor Rolf Jacobson, professor at Luther Seminary in St. Paul, M.N.) As dark as this psalm may be (and it is pretty dark), it is nevertheless a testament to God’s determination to make of our lives something beautiful and worth preserving. It reminds me of Paul’s assuring word to the disciples at Philippi: “And I am sure that he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ.” Philippians 1:6. Time may be at work taking us apart piece by piece. But the Spirit of God is also at work piecing together the new person born at our baptism into Jesus Christ.

As always, I encourage you to read Psalm 90 in its entirety.

Hebrews 4:12-16

For my general comments on the Letter to the Hebrews, see my post of Sunday, October 4th. You might also want to take a look at the Summary Article by Craig R. Koester, Professor of New Testament at Luther Seminary, St. Paul, MN on enterthebible.org.

In Sunday’s lesson, the writer compares the word of God to a double edged sword. Vs. 12. This is a violent image. A sword has one purpose and that is to slay. Yet as discomforting as this image may be, it is entirely appropriate. To hear God’s word is to come very close to death. Recall the terror of Isaiah when confronted by a vision of God in the Temple of Jerusalem: “Woe is me! For I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips; for my eyes have seen the King, the Lord of Hosts.” Isaiah 6:5. The word of God discerns the “thoughts and intentions of the heart.” Vs. 12. In its light, nothing is hidden.

I think a lot of us put a lot of effort into keeping secrets on ourselves. It has been said that every person has three selves: the one she is, the one she thinks she is and the one everyone else things she is. It is the first one that I am least likely to know because I am overly concerned with the first two. I want to believe that I am a person of integrity, courage, wisdom and vision. Those character traits are important to a minister. So I when I am less than honest, I rationalize it by convincing myself that it is all to spare the feelings of those who might be offended by what I believe to be the truth. When I am cowardly, I tell myself that discretion is the better part of valor. When I make mistakes, I make excuses. When I am at a loss over what needs to be done, I try to exude confidence. It takes a lot of energy to maintain a disguise. So as painful as a confrontation with God’s word may be, it is also liberating. There is nothing like the relief a person feels when a good and trusted friend says, “Who do you think you’re fooling. I know what’s going on here. Let’s talk about it.” Suddenly, the pressure is off. I no longer have to maintain the façade. I can stop making excuses, explanations, justifications and get down to the business of taking responsibility and making the changes I need to make.

That brings me to the second part of this lesson. The writer of Hebrews does not urge us to flee in fear from this blinding light of God’s word, but rather “with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.”  Vs. 16. God never wounds us unless it is for the ultimate purpose of healing. If the word of the Lord sometimes scares the hell out of us, it is because we were made for something better than hell. Those of you who have undergone joint replacement surgery know that healing can sometimes be a long and painful journey. Successful surgery can relieve you of a lot of pain and give you more freedom of mobility. But to get there, the pain is going to have to get worse before it gets better. So it is with the Kingdom of God. The vision of a new heaven and a new earth where God dwells in our midst and we live together in peace with our neighbors and all of creation is one to which I am irresistibly drawn. Yet I know that I am not the sort of person that could live in such a renewed creation. I need a heart transplant and the only surgical instrument sharp enough to perform that operation for me is the word of God. Only daily repentance and forgiveness among people of faith can assist me in growing into the stature of Jesus Christ. With the psalmist, I must rely upon God to establish the work of my hands. I must trust Jesus to complete what he began at my baptism.

Mark 10:17-31

This is without doubt one of the saddest stories in the gospels. The way Mark tells it, this young man was sincere when he came to Jesus yearning for eternal life. And let us be clear about one thing. When the gospels speak of “eternal life,” they are not merely speaking about some distant event in the “sweet by and by.” Eternal life is life that is spent doing the things that are of eternal importance, the things that matter to God. Naturally, then, Jesus refers the young man to the Commandments, all of which he claimed to have observed from his youth. We are told that Jesus, “looking upon him loved him.” Vs. 21. “You lack just one thing,” says Jesus. Vs. 21. But alas, that one thing is just one thing too much for the young man. He wanted to follow Jesus. He wanted to spend the rest of his life doing things that matter eternally. Instead, “he went away sorrowful; for he had great possessions.” Vs. 22.

I am afraid that I identify with this rich young man. No, I am not rich by Bill Gates standards, but like nearly all Americans, I enjoy a measure of wealth that two thirds of the world can only dream about. I have never had to go hungry. I have never had to travel further than the kitchen sink to find clean water. Like everybody else in America, I feel I am not making enough, that my taxes are too high and that everything is more expensive than it should be. But I have no fear of starving to death or having to sleep on the street or being driven out of the community in which I live. Even if I were to end up broke and homeless, I have enough family and friends that would see to my basic needs and a social safety net that, despite years of trimming down, is still there. That might not get me on the cover of Forbes, but it makes me filthy rich by standards of most the world’s population.

Like the rich young man in our gospel lesson, I want to live my life for the things that matter eternally, but at the cost of losing my wealth? I would like to think that this is just a hypothetical question. Of course Jesus does not expect all of us to give up everything. This rich young man was a special case because…well, because he was rich. He was addicted to his wealth. But that’s not me. I am no addict. Just because an alcoholic must refrain from drinking to maintain his sobriety, that doesn’t mean that the rest of us have to be teatotalers. So the argument goes. Trouble is, there is no indication that this young man was anymore addicted to his wealth than we are. In fact, we don’t even learn that he was wealthy until the end of the story. There is no indication either that Jesus knew about his wealth initially.

Moreover, the twelve disciples, who do not appear to have been rich, were also required to gave up all of their possessions to follow Jesus. Vs. 8. So this is not about class warfare. Jesus is not siding with 99% against the 1%. Jesus asks no more or less of this young man than he does the rest of his disciples. But unlike the twelve, who left everything to follow Jesus, the young man cannot walk away from his wealth.  So I do not believe we can get ourselves out from under this troubling word by trying to make of the rich young man a special and extraordinary case. Giving up everything seems to go hand and hand with discipleship.

This story is so unsettling because it hits us right where we live. Next to the cult of individualism that has become so much a part of the American consciousness, I believe that the greatest threat to the health of the church today is our wealth. Somehow, we have convinced ourselves that we cannot be the church without elaborate sanctuaries in which to worship, a seminary trained pastor for each individual congregation, a Sunday School, numerous programs to meet every conceivable need and a big piece of real estate that does nothing other than provide a place for people to park their cars once a week on Sunday. The churches in the African nation of Namibia cannot afford any of these things, yet these churches are growing and thriving even as American churches decline. The question here is not about individual giving to the church-important as that is. Rather, the question is whether, as a church, we have given all to Jesus. How much of what we do is geared toward satisfying our own wants and needs as members rather than surrendering all to become the Body of Jesus in our communities? Do we trust Jesus enough to follow after him doing the things that matter eternally-even when those things are not financially rewarding, desired by our members or promising in terms of increasing membership? We confess each week in the Creed that we believe in Jesus, but are we ready to put our money where our mouth is? A church’s budget is frequently a portal into its soul. What do our financial records say about who we are? Do they reflect a passionate concern for the things that matter eternally?

Sunday, October 4th

NINETEENTH SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST

Genesis 2:18-24
Psalm 8
Hebrews 1:1-4; 2:5-12
Mark 10:2-16

PRAYER OF THE DAY: Sovereign God, you have created us to live in loving community with one another. Form us for life that is faithful and steadfast, and teach us to trust like little children, that we may reflect the image of your Son, Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord.

This Sunday we recognize Francis. No, not the Pope, but the Saint of Assisi from whom the Pope took his name. What we know of Francis has been preserved for us by Friar Thomas of Celano who, at the commission of Pope Gregory IX, composed the First Life of Francis of Assisi. We know from this source that Francis was the son of a wealthy merchant. In his younger years, Francis lived a dissolute life. In his late teens he became a soldier and, on his way to fight for his home city of Assisi, he had a vision that directed him back home. Francis soon became disenchanted with the high life and began devoting himself to prayer. Sent by his father to sell off some of his inventory in a neighboring city, Francis tried to donate the proceeds of the sale to a poor priest at a ruined sanctuary. The priest, suspicious of Francis’ motives, refused to accept the gift. Thereupon, Francis simply disposed of the money. Needless to say, his father was displeased. When he threatened to disinherit his son, Francis beat him to the punch. He returned all that his father had given him including the cloths he was wearing and set out “to preach repentance to all, edifying his hearers with simple words but largeness of heart.” Celano, Thomas of, Frist Life of Francis of Assisi, published in Readings in World Christian History, Vol. 1, (c. 2004 by John W. Coakley and Andrea Sterk; pub. by Obis Books) p. 355.

In accord with Catholic teaching, Francis preached that the world was created good and beautiful by God but stands in need of redemption because of human sin. He preached to human beings and animals the duty of all creatures to praise God and the duty of human beings to protect and enjoy nature as both the stewards of God’s creation and as creatures themselves. To Francis, all animals as well as the forces of nature were fellow creatures that he frequently personified. His sense of kinship with all creation is best illustrated in the Canticle of the Sun attributed to him. The Canticle bears a striking similarity to our psalm for this Sunday.

Saint Francis was a man of peace. He bravely travelled across enemy lines to meet with the Sultan of Egypt in an effort to bring an end to the bloodshed between Christians and Muslims stretching over five church sanctioned crusades. Though Francis was unsuccessful both in converting the Sultan to Christianity and in bringing hostilities to an end, the Sultan was favorably impressed with his courage, humility and sincere faith. He is said to have remarked that he might consider becoming a Christian if all Christians were like Francis.

Poverty was a way of life for Saint Francis. While he certainly did not glorify poverty resulting from greed and injustice, Francis believed that contentment came from getting along with as little as possible and on what is strictly necessary. He believed that people should live as producers contributing to the welfare of creation rather than consumers exploiting the earth. Francis and his followers took literally Jesus’ admonition that the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head. They sheltered where they could, accepted such hospitality as was offered and slept under the open sky when no other options were available. They begged unashamedly and shared without reservation. Throughout his life Francis founded three orders: the men’s Order of Friars Minor, the women’s Order of St. Clare, and the Third Order for men and women not able to live the lives of itinerant preachers

There is much about Francis that is legendary. It is almost certain that he did not compose the “Prayer of Saint Francis” popularly attributed to him. His association with animals, though real, has been greatly exaggerated and sentimentalized. Biographical details about his life are intertwined with tales of the miraculous and fantastic. Yet these legends serve only to demonstrate the power of Francis’ teaching and example that have endured for eight centuries.

Into this violent culture of ours that knows no solution to evil other than brute force, no good other than consumption, and no world other than a soulless ball of resources waiting for the strongest and most ruthless to possess it; the gentle witness of Saint Francis drifts across our ruined landscape like a breath of fresh air.

Genesis 2:18-24

This familiar story comes to us at the conclusion of the second creation narrative in Genesis (the first being Genesis 1:1-2:3). It is part of the biblical overture constituting the first eleven chapters of the book and setting the stage for the opening curtain that will occur in Genesis 12 where God calls Abram to leave his homeland of Haran and journey to the promised land of Canaan. Genesis 12:1-3. These chapters tell the story of a God who creates a good world filled with all that is required for human beings to live well and flourish. The goodness and well-being of creation is constantly threatened by human rebellion and violence. In each episode the judgment and grace of God intervene to counteract the destructive conduct of God’s human creatures. At the conclusion of the eleventh chapter, we find an earth cursed by human sin, divided by language and immersed in idolatry. Yet just as creation seems to be caught in the death spiral of curse, God calls Abram to become a nation of blessing. That nation, of course, is Israel. “It is imperative,” says one commentator, “to begin reading Exodus, indeed the entire Old Testament, with Genesis as the point of departure.” Fretheim, Terence E., “Reclamation of Creation: Redemption and Law in Exodus,” Interpretation, Vol. 45, No. 2, (October 1991). Of course, the converse is also true: we cannot read Genesis without understanding it as the prelude to Israel’s story. It is important, therefore, to keep in mind this biblical context as we consider today’s lesson about the formation of man and woman. We are being prepared for the saga of Israel.

The biggest difficulty we have with texts like this is the baggage they have picked up from having been dragged through the culture wars. Creationists have insisted that this story must be taken as the literal and sole explanation for the origin of human life on earth. Clearly, the cosmological, geological, historical and biological evidence do not support the formation of human beings separately from the rest of the animal world or their sexual differentiation at a later state of human development. Nor does the harmonious, non-predatory nature of life in the Garden of Eden appear to be sustainable in the world as we know it. Consequently, insistence on a literal interpretation of the biblical creation stories requires wholesale rejection of scientific knowledge and theory that is growing stronger by the day. Creationists are up for that fight and more than ready to re-litigate the Scopes Monkey Trial. A good example of their determination to re-write the geological, biological, cosmological record is the multi-million dollar Creation Science Museum in Petersburg, Kentucky.

This story has also been cited frequently as a proof text for the definition of marriage as the union between a man and a woman. “Therefore, a man leaves his father and his mother and cleaves to his wife and they become one flesh.” Vs. 24. This, it is argued, constitutes the normative pattern established from the beginning. But that interpretation seems to place the cart before the horse. In fact, God says nothing about the institution of marriage or anything else. Rather, the story teller reflects on the experience of human beings and their relationships in light of the creation of man and woman. The point seems to be that the attraction drawing a woman and man together finally proves stronger than the parental and sibling ties in which they were raised. This yearning for intimacy, of which sexual expression is one but by no means the only aspect, is naturally disruptive to existing family structures. Yet it is woven into the fabric of God’s good creation and therefore good in itself.

It seems to me, then, that we need to read the text from the beginning rather than the end. The lesson begins with God’s declaration that it is not good for Adam to be alone. God does not proceed with divine dispatch to the obvious (to us) conclusion, but experiments with the creation of other life forms to meet Adam’s need. But Adam’s loneliness is not merely “aloneness.” His longing is for an intimate relationship with one of his own kind. This longing cannot be satisfied by the companionship animals bring or even by his unique relationship to the Creator. The creation of male and female, then, was designed to alleviate that emptiness Adam experiences.

There is an element of humor in this passage that is very much underappreciated. I think that is probably because we have a deeply ingrained sense that religion, faith and the Bible are serious matters. To laugh at something in the Bible seems almost sacrilegious. Often, though, the biblical authors are intending to be funny. They see humor as part and parcel of every relationship worth having, including our relationship with God. Here God observes the earth creature just formed from dust and concludes that “it is not good for this creature to be alone.” So God creates the animals to be companions for this creature. The creature finds the animals interesting and perhaps endearing-so much so that it gives them names. Still, none of them proves a suitable companion. It appears that God is unsure of what is needed here; that God is fumbling around, turning out ever new and exotic animals that somehow fail to meet the creature’s deepest need. Then, in a flash of insight, God suddenly “gets it.” The creature needs a companion of its own kind. “Finally!” says Adam as Eve appears on the scene. “That’s what I’m talking about!”

Note well that the name, “Adam” is not really a proper name. It means simply “taken from the ground,” or “earth creature.” We cannot call Adam a “man” in terms of gender because at this point there is no gender. Without the male/female polarity, the concept of gender is simply unintelligible. As Phyllis Trible, a prominent biblical scholar, has pointed out, the Hebrew word for “man” in the sense of a male human (“ish”) is not used in the Adam and Eve creation story until after the creation of Eve. Only then is Adam referred to as “ish” which means “male person” over against Eve who is “ishah” or “female person.” Consequently, the notion that the male human was created first and the female afterwards is erroneous. Both male and female came into existence when Eve was drawn from Adam.

It should be clear that the primary concern from God’s standpoint is not the establishment of an institution, but rather the alleviation of Adam’s loneliness. If we begin reading this text from the standpoint of God’s concern for human companionship rather than our own concerns about how marriage ought to be defined, I believe that we are lead to some very different ways of looking at issues like same sex relationships, transgendered persons and our treatment of human sexuality generally. God would save his creatures from loneliness. God desires companionship and intimacy for his creatures. Marriage (which is not mentioned at all in the text) is designed to protect such intimacy within a covenant of mutual faithfulness. Any definition of marriage that is used to deny this good aspect of human existence to others cannot be harmonized with our lesson.

Finally, a word or two about marriage. Marriage is obviously not the cure all for loneliness. It is only as good as the creatures entering into it. Because we are all flawed and broken creatures, our marriages are also flawed and broken. There are cold and loveless marriages in which one or both spouses find themselves desperately lonely. Conversely, there are unmarried, single individuals whose friendships, family and professional lives afford them a wealth of deep and lasting relationships where they find comfort, support and much joy. This is yet one more reason why we should avoid getting hung up on the definition of marriage and hear what this scripture says about what makes us human: the deep and lasting relationships that meet our longing for intimacy and help define us as persons.

Psalm 8

The superscription to this psalm reads: “To the choirmaster: according to The Gittith. A Psalm of David.” Introductions like these which preface many of the psalms are routinely ignored in our liturgical usage and barely acknowledged by commentators. This is due in large part to the fact that their meanings are obscure. The meaning of the term “Gittith” is lost to us, though most commentators agree that it is most likely a reference to the musical score accompanying the psalm. The Septuagint (Greek translation of the Hebrew Scriptures) associates the term Gittith with the Hebrew term “gat” meaning “winepress.” Accordingly, it interprets the title as “song of the winepress.” Weiser, Artur, The Psalms, The Old Testament Library (c. 1962 by S.C.M. Press, Ltd.) p. 140. Most of us would be tempted to dismiss all of this as another textual prejinkerty of interest only to textual scholars. But Saint Augustine took this title extremely seriously and made it the touchstone for his exposition of the whole psalm. Exposition on the Book of Psalms, The Nicene and Post Nicene Fathers, Vol. 8 (c. 1979 by Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Co.) pp. 27-32. Interpreting the “winepress” as a metaphor for the Church, he plumbs the depths of the psalm for deeper understanding of sanctification, discipleship and martyrdom. We might quibble with Augustine’s allegorical method, but his instincts were correct. In the final analysis, disciples of Jesus read the Bible, both the Hebrew Scriptures and the New Testament, through their faith in the crucified and resurrected Lord.

This beautiful hymn glorifying God is bracketed by a refrain at its beginning and end that says it all: “O Lord, our Lord, how majestic is thy name in all the earth.” Vss. 1 and 9. This psalm recognizes the glory of God under which all created things pal in significance. Yet it is this very glory that dignifies and gives meaning to creation generally and to human beings in particular. Vss. 1-2. Small as we are, God does take note of us. Vs. 4. More than that, God has given to us human beings the unique task of ruling over creation and having “dominion” over every living thing. 6.

It is important to understand what is meant by “dominion.” God is still the rightful owner of all things over which we have dominion. We are stewards, not owners. To get an idea of what that means we need to return to Genesis 2:15 which regrettably was not included in our reading for Sunday. The verse reads: “The Lord God took the man (“Adam,” not “ish”) and put him in the Garden of Eden to till it and keep it.” From the dawn of creation it has been the role of human beings to “till and to keep” God’s garden. This means, of course, that we are not free to make whatever use we will of everything under our dominion. Being made in God’s image means that we human beings have a unique capacity to create. We have the ability to alter the face of the earth in ways that no other creature can. This ability enables us both to enhance the beauty, habitability and productivity of our planet and to wreak catastrophic destruction on it.

Proper human dominion is a pressing issue for us today as the earth’s human population grows and consumes the earth’s resources at an alarming rate. A recent United Nations Environment Program (UNEP) report says that if the world continues using its resources at current rates, humanity will be using up some 140 billion tons of minerals, ores, fossil fuels and biomass annually by the year 2050. The report described this as “three times its current appetite,” and an “unsustainable” rate of extraction. This sorry state has evolved from our viewing the earth as a ball of resources owned by nation states, each claiming sovereign control over resources within its borders and/or owned throughout the world. As Pope Francis warned us during his visit to our country last week, “A selfish and boundless thirst for power and material prosperity leads both to the misuse of available natural resources and to the exclusion of the weak and disadvantaged.” See WSJ Market Watch, September 25, 2015.

Faithful dominion requires a different vision beginning with the acknowledgement that the earth belongs first and foremost to God. Our use of its resources cannot be guided by a desire to perpetuate a way of life that ruthlessly exploits and carelessly consumes with no thought for the health of the world’s ecosystems, the suffering inflicted on our fellow human beings throughout the planet or the welfare of generations to come. Proper dominion over the earth means learning to stop being consumers and to begin living as contributors. That, of course, will affect the homes we live in, the cars we drive (if any) and the way we eat. It will change a host of other daily habits that injure the environment, foster inequality and threaten peace. The psalm does not give us any concrete guidance in implementing these changes, but it does suggest to us that the potential for a better world is within our reach-when we finally learn to let God be God, let go of our desire to possess our planet and recognize it as God’s garden to be tended and cared for.

Hebrews 1:1-4; 2:5-12

Let’s begin with a word about Hebrews. This is an anonymous letter written in the latter half of the first century, probably between 80-90 C.E. It was not fully acknowledged as part of the New Testament cannon until 405 C.E. In the past, and to some extent today also, Hebrews has been viewed by biblical scholars as a comparison of Christianity to Judaism. The intent, they maintain, is to demonstrate the superiority of Christianity. Mauch, T.M., “Letter to the Hebrews,” The Interpreter’s Dictionary of the Bible, Vol.2 (c. 1962 by Abingdon Press) p. 573.

I don’t buy that. It seems to me that both Judaism and the church were facing a common catastrophe at the end of the First Century, namely, the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem by the Romans in 70 C.E. Obviously, the Temple was central to Judaism. There are indications that it was likewise important for the New Testament church. Jesus cleansed the Temple and taught in the Temple. According to the Book of Acts, the post resurrection church gathered in the courts of the Temple. The early church, being primarily Jewish, continued to worship in the Temple with fellow Jews. It was widely believed, in both Christian and Jewish circles, that the destruction of that Temple signaled the end of the age and the coming of God’s kingdom. That obviously did not happen. So both Judaism and the church were left with the task of interpreting their respective existences without the Temple. For Judaism, the fulcrum of faith and life became the Torah and the worship of God it inspired in the Synagogue. For the church, Jesus Christ was the Temple of God, the locus of God’s presence. In my view, Hebrews is not an effort to demonstrate the superiority of Christianity over Judaism. It is instead a theological argument demonstrating that the messianic mission of Jesus is not refuted by the failure of certain eschatological expectations following the destruction of the Temple. To the contrary, Jesus’ redemptive mission continues and is embodied in the church.

The passage for this Sunday from the opening of the book consists of rhetorical artistry surpassing “any other portion of the New Testament” according to one commentator. Norden, Eduard Agnostos Theos: Untersuchungen zur Formengeschichte religioser Rede (Stuttgart: Teubner, 1913; reprinted Darmstadt: Vissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft, 1971) p. 386 cited in Attridge, Harold W., The Epistle to the Hebrews, Hermeneia-A Critical and Historical Commentary on the Bible (c. 1989 by Fortress Press) p. 36. The implicit christological pattern of pre-existence, incarnation, death and exultation are reminiscent of the incarnational hymn at the beginning of John’s gospel. (John 1:1-18).

“In many and various ways God spoke of old to our fathers by the prophets; but in these last days he has spoken to us by a Son…” Hebrews 1:1-2. This passage reminds us that we are not a people of the book. We are disciples of Jesus Christ whose ministry of healing, forgiveness and reconciliation continue in his resurrected Body, the church. Of course, the Bible is critical to us because it constitutes the normative witness to God’s saving act in Jesus Christ. The Bible is not an end in itself. We read it seeking Jesus. We interpret it through Jesus. Jesus is the Word of God made flesh. We can call the Bible God’s word because it points us to Jesus.

As can be seen, the lectionary folk have again taken their scalpels to our reading, omitting Hebrews 1:5-2:4. These verses cite Psalm 2:7; II Samuel 7:14; Deuteronomy 32:43; Psalm 97:7; Psalm 104:4; Psalm 45:6-7; Psalm 102:25-27 in further support of the author’s assertion in vs. 1:4 that Jesus has become “as much superior to angels as the name he has obtained is more excellent than theirs.” More than any other New Testament book, Hebrews weaves the Hebrew Scriptures into every line of its argument. These references are not “proof texts” in the sense that they demonstrate and substantiate Jesus’ status as God’s Son. Jesus’ Sonship is grasped by faith and assumed from the get go. The author of Hebrews employs these scriptural citations not to prove, but to illustrate, deepen and explicate the meaning of Jesus as God’s Son and our true high priest with a rich variety of biblical images.

Our reading picks up again in chapter 2 at verse 5 with a quotation from our psalm. As you recall, the psalmist wonders at the status of the human creature: mortal and perishable unlike angels, yet in intellect and power unlike any other animal. The author of Hebrews uses this paradoxical position of the human creature to speak of Jesus’ status as God’s son. As a human person, Jesus shares fully in our own creaturely nature. Yet at the same time, he is exalted as God’s Son who “tastes death” for everyone. Vs. 2:9.

The reading ends with a citation from Psalm 22: “I will proclaim thy name to my brethren, in the midst of the congregation I will praise thee.” Psalm 22:22. It should not be lost on us that this is the psalm beginning with Jesus’ words from the cross: “My God, My God, why hast thou forsaken me?” Psalm 22:1. This psalm which begins with a cry of dereliction and concludes with a hymn of praise not only draws the reader’s attention to Jesus’ crucifixion, but also provides the perfect scriptural paradigm for Jesus’ journey from suffering to exaltation. If we are going to understand fully the testimony of this wonderful epistle, we must pay careful attention to its use of the Hebrew Scriptures.

“We do not yet see everything in subjection to [Christ].” Vs. 2:8. That is true today as then. It does not appear that Jesus reigns. Yet contrary to all appearances, we confess that he does. More than that, we live under the belief that he does. For if Christ is not Lord of heaven and earth, the Sermon on the Mount makes no sense. It is not practical to turn the other cheek in the face of aggression. It is not practical to give to people who beg from you. It is not practical to love an enemy that is trying to kill you. At least none of this is practical in a world run by the principalities, the rulers and the assumptions of this age. But disciples of Jesus maintain that Caesar is not Lord. Nor is the invisible hand of the market nor is dialectical materialism nor is any nation state. Jesus is Lord and the day will come when every knee will bow and tongue so confess. Therefore, we throw in our lot with the one we know to be victorious even if that means we will have to take some lumps from those who have not yet figured that out. We take the long view. The Kingdom of God is coming and so we gather as Christ’s Body animated by the Spirit of God so that we can be transformed into the kind of people capable of living in such a kingdom.

Mark 10:2-16

This passage and the way the church has interpreted it in the past is responsible for a lot of pain inflicted on a lot of people. I can still recall the days when our churches would not perform second marriages on the basis of this passage. I have heard a number of heartbreaking stories from woman who have been counseled to remain with their abusive husbands so as not to “put asunder” what “God has joined together.” So if we are to continue reading this scripture in our worship services and preaching on it, it is critical that we get it right.

To begin with, we need to acknowledge that what we call marriage has undergone significant changes throughout the ages. Marriage in the time of Jesus is not what it was in the days of the Patriarchs or during the reign of David over Israel. Marriage today is different from what it was in the time of Jesus and, for that matter, different from what it was only a century ago when women in our country could not vote, enter into contracts or, in many instances, own land. Women in Jesus’ day were regarded as the property of men. Adultery was not a crime committed between a man and a woman. It was a crime committed by one man against another man. It was a crime committed by a woman against her husband. Notice how the question is put to Jesus: “Is it lawful for a man to divorce his wife?” vs. 2. A woman could no more divorce her husband than a cow could rescind her owner’s bill of sale.

So this is not an issue of sexual morality. It is a question of justice and compassion for women. A divorced woman loses her home, her source of sustenance and her livelihood. She can only hope that her father will take her back into his home or that someone needs a servant or a day laborer. Divorce as it was practiced in Jesus’ day laid a disproportionately heavy burden on women. This was, in every sense of the word, a man’s world-but not according to Jesus. For Jesus, women were as much children of God and called as much to discipleship as men. Jesus will not have them treated as cattle that can be disposed of arbitrarily.

Jesus does not dispute the law of Moses in this regard. Divorce is permitted under the terms of the law. Jesus goes on to point out, however, that Moses wrote this commandment “for your hardness of heart.” Vs. 5. Marriage was designed to be a life-long commitment. Because “it is not good” for a person to be alone, dissolution of a marriage is contrary to its purpose. Yet because our hearts are hard, many of God’s good gifts to us are ruined. Marriage is one of them. It is important to emphasize here that the “hardness of heart” necessitating divorce is not found solely or even primarily within the divorcing couple. Due to our ever increasingly mobile society, many young married couples begin their lives together and raise their families in neighborhoods far from where they grew up and where their families reside. They lack the family support and encouragement that is often so helpful in building up and strengthening a marriage. Demand upon professionals to work long hours takes a toll on marriage. Loss of employment, financial stress and illness of a spouse can test even the strongest marriages. I am thankful for a vibrant community of faith that stood by me during times of illness, economic instability and stress in my family. I am likewise indebted to a supportive employer who was flexible enough to give me the time I needed to care for my family in periods of crisis. This week I will celebrate 32 years of marriage-but not with any sense of pride or accomplishment. I know only too well that I owe my successful marriage to a host of partners who stood by me and my wife in time of need. I also know that there are better people than me whose marriages have broken under the strain of the factors discussed above.

In sum, there are many guilty parties in every divorce, such as uncaring and unflexible employers, unsupportive faith communities, distant and disinterested neighbors and corporate business entities that put profits before the stability of communities and the welfare of their workers. So also, behind every successful marriage there usually are a host of supporting angels that have been present at critical times to encourage faithfulness and endurance. Most significantly, the sins involved with the breakup of a marriage are no different from any other sin. They are covered by God’s mercy and forgiveness. Just as God raised Jesus from death, so also God can bring new life and love out of the ruins of a failed marriage.

Sunday, September 27

EIGHTEENTH SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST

Numbers 11:4-6, 10-16, 24-29
Psalm 19:7-14
James 5:13-20
Mark 9:38-50

Prayer of the Day: Generous God, your Son gave his life that we might come to peace with you. Give us a share of your Spirit, and in all we do empower us to bear the name of Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord.

Our lessons have a lot to say about leadership and how it is exercised by the people of God. That is a timely concern as our country awaits the visit of Pope Francis while trying to make sense out of that reality show we call the presidential primaries. What do we look for in a leader? How does one lead effectively? What is this thing we call “authority”? Who has it?

Judging by the polling data, we seem to respect a leader who is decisive, knows what s/he believes and is not afraid to express it-as long as we like what we hear. So a candidate running for elected office needs to walk a fine line avoiding a kind of soft-spokenness that might suggest weakness or indecision on the one hand and an outspokenness that is perceived as rude and offensive on the other. The trouble with the electoral process is that it often gives us leaders shaped by us into what we want rather than leaders capable of taking us where we need to be. How effective can one be as a leader after obtaining his/her office through following the very ones s/he is supposed to lead?

A key constituent of leadership is authority-not to be confused with power. The former makes a great leader, the latter, standing alone, makes only a dictator. Authority is frequently found among the powerless. Though Jesus had no official teaching status (as far as we know) and held no political office, his hearers recognized that he taught “as one having authority, and not as their scribes.” Matthew 7:29. What was it, then, about Jesus that made his word authoritative? I believe it boils down to one word: integrity. Jesus’ actions were so thoroughly in harmony with his words that, as Saint John would say, Jesus was his Word. John 1:1.

Being a leader sometimes means you have to tell people things they don’t want to hear-and not just the people you know will never vote for you anyway. Truth has to be spoken to your strongest supporters, your most committed followers, your most trusted friends. You have to keep reminding the people of your vision and what is required of them to achieve it long after its novelty and freshness has worn thin. As Moses is beginning to learn in our first lesson, it is hard to lead when the Promised Land is forty years away and your constituents want results yesterday. In our gospel lesson Jesus is finding that leading his fractious, power hungry and self-centered disciples is a little like herding cats. James urges us to lead those who are wandering from the community of faith back home again. Leadership is not an easy task. It calls for more than sound judgment, careful discernment and prudent action. People will finally be lead only by those they trust. That is why leadership begins with “followership.” Unless and until we are prepared to walk in the footsteps of Jesus, it is unlikely anyone will heed our call to take that difficult road.

Pope Francis offers a welcome contrast to the noisy clamor for votes we have been forced to endure the last several months. Here is a man who has consistently refused the luxuries that typically come with his office. Francis’ determination to be among the people (much to the consternation of our security forces) demonstrates the same willingness to be vulnerable that he calls upon the nations of the world to exercise in receiving refugees fleeing war and starvation in the Middle East. His frank talk about our country’s consumerism, inequality and violence will no doubt make us uncomfortable and perhaps a bit angry. But the Pope does not need or seek our votes. He seeks instead our hearts for Jesus. Now that’s what I call authority!

Numbers 11:4-6, 10-16, 24-29

The Book of Numbers is the fourth of the five books of Moses commonly referred to as the Pentateuch. Modern biblical research has reached a general consensus that the Pentateuch is the product of four sources and perhaps several editors. For a thorough discussion of this theory, see this article on the Documentary Hypothesis. The title, “Numbers” comes from the Greek translation of the Hebrew Scriptures known as the Septuagint. It was no doubt inspired by the census of the Hebrew tribes narrated in the early part of the book. The Hebrew Bible uses the title “bemidar” which means “In the wilderness.” In fact, the book as a whole narrates the journey of Israel through the wilderness from Egypt to the land of Canaan. For a more thorough outline of Numbers, see the Summary Article by Fred Gaiser, Professor of Old Testament at Luther Seminary, Saint Paul, MN on enterthebible.org.

This lesson brings back family memories-not of a good sort. Make no mistake about it, I love the family in which I grew up. I think my parents did a wonderful job raising me and my siblings. I enjoyed doing things with my family for the most part. Family vacations constitute one of the few exceptions to that rule. We never went to Disneyland or any comparable place when we took the two weeks of vacation to which my father was entitled each year. Instead, we drove out from Bremerton, Washington to Iowa to visit my aunt and uncle, stopping in Montana along the way to see another uncle and aunt. This was before air conditioning was standard equipment for cars and long before digital technology transformed the back seat into rolling entertainment center. We traveled in a Chevy station wagon, my younger sister and me sitting all the way in the back on a seat facing the rear. There were no seat belts and they probably would not have been much help anyway if we had been rear ended. Before we had gotten halfway through Washington State my sister and I were already whining: “When will we get there? We have to go to the bathroom! We’re hungry! How much longer do we have to drive? Why do we have to go on this stupid trip? Why can’t we just stay home?” Multiply that by several thousand voices and forty years and perhaps you can begin to appreciate Moses’ dilemma.

The people are angry. They have been travelling for a long time eating food that is unfamiliar to them. They don’t know where they are going or when they will get there. They have to rely upon Moses to give them that information and it appears that Moses is not altogether clear on the future either. So they complain. “Come on Moses! You told us that you were leading us to a good land! You told us we would live as a free people in our own country. But so far, all we can see is this wilderness that can’t support us. We have to survive by scrapping our bread off the desert floor. When are you going to deliver on your promises Moses? How long do we have to wait?”

Moses is angry too-at God. “Why have you treated your servant so badly? Why have I not found favor in your sight, that you lay the burden of all this people on me? Did I conceive all this people? Did I give birth to them, that you should say to me, ‘Carry them in your bosom, as a nurse carries a sucking child,’ to the land that you promised on oath to their ancestors? Where am I to get meat to give to all this people?” Vss. 11-13.

I think everyone who has ever served as a church leader knows how Moses feels. “Am I the only one here that sees what needs to be done? Is mine the only number in the church directory? Why does everyone always call me for every little thing that goes wrong down at the church? Do I have to do it all?” Now I think we need to stop here and reflect on Moses’ complaint. In fact, God did not lay the burden of all the people on Moses. Moses assumed that burden himself. Has Moses forgotten that it was God whose mighty works brought Pharaoh to his knees? Does Moses really believe that God expects him to “carry the people in his bosom?” Was it not God who has been carrying the people thus far? Moses should know that this liberation project is God’s, not his own. God is the one responsible for getting Israel to the Promised Land. Moses’ job is simply to lead the people in taking the next step.

Part of Moses’ problem, too, is that he has come to believe he is indispensable. He has convinced himself that no one is capable of leadership except him. Of course, when you assume responsibility for everything, you wind up taking the heat for everything. No human being can remain sane for long under that kind of pressure. God knows that. That is why God does not expect any of us to shoulder the load when it comes to mission and ministry.

Moses discovers that the people, who he has been seeing as the problem, are actually the solution. Moses learns that he is not indispensable, that there are other persons with prophetic gifts capable of sharing his responsibility of embodying God’s vision for Israel. Of course, that means Moses has to let go of some of his authority. That is not always an easy thing for leaders. Most of us leaders are convinced that nobody can do things as well as we can. Most of us leaders are convinced that our way is “the” right way. The notion that God might be leading through the insight and knowledge of someone else is threatening to us. So sharing leadership is a little frightening. Moses, to his credit, is willing to take the risk of sharing his authority. He is secure enough in his leadership role to recognize the prophetic voice of God even when it is spoken outside of “official channels.” When Joshua reports to Moses that there are two men prophesying that were not among the seventy that he “properly ordained,” Moses tells him not to fret about it. Instead, rejoice that the generosity of the Spirit is bigger than our imagination and more expansive than our organizational structures. Vss. 26-29.

This lesson serves to remind us that the church is not made up of leaders and followers. It is made up of a communion of saints each having his or her own unique gifts for building up the Body of Christ. So leadership in the church is never a question of “who is in charge.” Rather, it is always a question of how best to recognize each person’s unique gifts and to order our life together in such a way as to enable, encourage and support the exercise of those gifts for mission and ministry.

Psalm 19:7-14

The first six verses of Psalm 19 praise God for God’s self-revelation in the wonders of the natural world, the heavens, the forests and fields. The second half of the Psalm, which is our text for Sunday, focuses on God’s self-revelation in Torah, the teachings of the scriptures. “By them also is your servant enlightened, and in keeping them there is great reward.”  Vs. 11. This is not to say, of course, that God rewards people who are obedient to the law with approval or that people who keep the law are somehow immune from suffering or bad fortune. Meditation on the scriptures is its own reward. By so doing, we are drawn closer to God and deeper into the heart of God. By internalizing the scriptures, we give the Holy Spirit a powerful tool for transforming us into the image of Christ. That is why I continue to recommend reading two psalms per day, one in the morning and one at night.

The psalm concludes with a prayer: “Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in your sight, O LORD, my strength and my redeemer.” Vs. 14. These words remind us of the admonitions of James the last few Sundays regarding the use of our tongues and the responsibility of being teachers in all that we do and say. This would be a good prayer to repeat each morning before we have had a chance to speak to anyone. It is a reminder that wherever we are, we are always in the presence of Jesus.

James 5:13-20

“The prayer of the righteous is powerful and effective.” Vs. 16. Over the years, there have been several studies done in the medical community to measure the “effectiveness” of prayer for people who are sick. The results have been inconclusive. At best, some data suggests that where people are supported by a praying community, they tend to experience a faster and more thorough recovery. Other test results suggest that people who are the object of prayer feel a sort of “obligation” to recover. Because setbacks in recovery might be interpreted as a lack of faith or divine support, knowing that one is being prayed for might actually hinder recovery.

Obviously, the problem here is our understanding of effectiveness. If the measure is simply recovery of the sick person we are praying for from his or her disease, that measure is flawed. Eventually, all of us will suffer an illness or accident from which we will not recover. No amount of prayer will save us from our mortality. Consequently, I don’t believe we can take James to mean that prayer always results in healing the sick. Moreover, James tells us that when we pray for the sick person, the Lord will raise him or her up and forgive his or her sins. Vs. 15. Is “raising up” synonymous with healing? It may be so in some circumstances, but not all. Recall that Paul prayed three times for the removal of a “thorn in the side” that he felt was hindering his ministry. We do not know whether that was a physical ailment, but the point is that God did not remove the thorn. Instead, Paul was left to work around it and, in so doing, he discovered that God’s strength was sufficient for his weakness. Indeed, God was able to use Paul’s infirmity to strengthen his faith and deepen his ministry.

Prayer is more than making requests and seeing them answered. One of my predecessors here at Trinity, Rev. Stephen Bouman, recently said that “lament” is that space between what should be and what is. I like that. I believe that prayer often has a dimension of lament where we struggle with a reality that seems to cast doubt on God’s love for us and commitment to our wellbeing. It is in that struggle that we finally arrive at the place where God would have us be. It is perhaps not the place we hoped to arrive at. It is probably much different than what we expected salvation to look like. But it turns out to be a good place nonetheless because it is the place where Jesus brings us.

Mark 9:38-50

The first part of this Gospel lesson is strikingly similar to the interchange between Joshua and Moses in our first lesson. James and John come upon a man who is doing the work of exorcism in Jesus’ name. He is not one of the Twelve or any of the disciples commissioned by Jesus. So James and John put a stop to his ministry because, “he was not following us.” Notice the pronoun “us.” The disciples do not say that this man was not following Jesus, but only that he was not with them. In modern parlance, we might say that this man was not “properly ordained” or “approved by the credentialing committee” or “on the clergy roster of any Synod of this church.”  Now we need to be careful here. As I said before, the church is not a community of leaders and followers. It is a communion of saints each of whom is given gifts for building up the Body of Christ. As one who has experienced firsthand the destructive power of ecclesiastical regulations and guidelines that operate to crush opportunities for ministry that don’t fit into narrowly defined understandings of how ministry is to be done, I resonate to Jesus’ admonition here. Do not stop someone from exercising his or her gifts for ministry just because they don’t fit into any predetermined pattern. Rather, examine the pattern to see what must be transformed so that this gift of ministry might be gratefully accepted and integrated into the full Body of Christ.

Still and all, a call to ministry is never merely a matter of individual choice. It is the Body of Christ, the communion of saints that must help each person discern, develop and exercise his or her gifts for ministry. I might be entirely wrong about what my gifts and abilities are. I may be immature and inexperienced in my exercise of those gifts. I am always in need of the church’s guidance, encouragement and discipline in the exercise of ministry. That goes not only for pastoral ministry but for all ministries in the church-music, education, stewardship, administration, etc. Nobody’s office in the church is above the discipline and admonition of the church.

What follows is one of the few instances in which Jesus preaches hellfire. Whoever causes one of these “little ones” who believe in Jesus to fall will have hell to pay. Vss. 42-48. Is this a continuation of Jesus’ teaching last week to the effect that there is nothing greater in the kingdom of God than to receive a child? Or is it a further response to James and John for their suppression of the exorcist? I think it might be a little of both. The lectionary readings from last week began with the question: “Who is the greatest?” Jesus first tells the disciples that to be great in the kingdom of God, there is no nobler task than receiving a child. Under this standard, moms, babysitters and nursery school teachers will be elevated over presidents, generals, captains of industry, bishops, pastors and seminary professors. How does one lead with greatness in the kingdom of God? Well, certainly not by suppressing the work of other people who are exercising the power of that kingdom under the poor excuse that they don’t have the proper credentials. Rather, greatness requires keeping the borders of the church porous, hazy and in flux so that it will be capable of receiving the gifts of the Spirit wherever they are manifest.

Exercising the worldly greatness of hierarchy in the church is a crime against the Body of Christ. It ignores Jesus’ dictum that the last are first and the first last. It imports methods, values and structures into the life of the church that are antithetical to the ways of the Spirit. In the name of exercising authority for the sake of the church, people acting under such a false understanding of greatness actually stifle the work of the church, hinder the Spirit of God and undermine the church’s witness to Jesus.

The term “salted with fire” is obscure and the subject of debate by many commentators. Vs. 49. Though it is possible that purification by persecution is intended, that hardly fits the context. To have salt is to be at peace. Vs. 50. It would therefore seem that the countercultural existence to which the disciples are called works like salt-an agent of seasoning and preservation. It is so very basic that, if it loses its essence, nothing exists that can restore it. The little group of disciples, preoccupied as it is with greatness and preserving its position of privilege to the neglect of the “little ones” for whom Jesus is chiefly concerned, is sorely in need of “salting with fire.” Only to the extent that there is among the disciples peace born of mutual service to the least can the nature of God’s reign be made known.

Sunday, September 13th

SIXTEENTH SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST

Isaiah 50:4-9a
Psalm 116:1-9
James 3:1-12
Mark 8:27-38

PRAYER OF THE DAY: O God, through suffering and rejection you bring forth our salvation, and by the glory of the cross you transform our lives. Grant that for the sake of the gospel we may turn from the lure of evil, take up our cross, and follow your Son, Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord.

“…at a more subtle yet also more deadly level, the association of the Christian religion with white Western/Northern economic, military, and cultural imperialism constitutes the single most insidious cause of global peril. It can in fact be argued (and is) that the current bellicosity of the militant forms of Islam represents a reaction of the Muslim world to its humiliation by the powerful technocratic West, especially as the latter is embodied in the one remaining planetary superpower-which just happens to be the most avowedly Christian of all the nations of the world.”

Douglas John Hall, The Cross in our Context, (c. 2003 by Augsburg Fortress), p. 4.

Since the publication of Hall’s book we have witnessed the U.S. invasion of two middle eastern countries with the avowed intent of bringing western style democracy to the region and a virulent backlash against the waves of refugees fleeing into Europe in order to escape the unlivable environment of violence, poverty and economic chaos resulting from that failed crusade. Rising hostility against non-white immigrants in our own land has reached a fever pitch, with the rhetoric becoming particularly ugly in this primary season as politicians vie for the angry white vote. The relationship between these developments and the Christian faith is not incidental or tangential. The wars in Iraq and Afghanistan were overwhelmingly supported by white evangelical protestants. Anders Behring Breivik, the terrorist who systematically gunned down more than 70 children at a sleep away camp in Norway in July of 2011, acted in accord with an ideology of hatred against non-white European immigrants he felt were threatening Europe’s Christian identity. Christian identity was again invoked by the Hungarian government last week in denying passage through the country to thousands of Syrian and Iraqi refugees, many of them children, fleeing from war, genocide and starvation. Not surprisingly, then, we find that 63% of white evangelical protestants see non-white immigrants as a threat to traditional American customs and values. White mainline protestants are not far behind at 51%. Attitudes Toward Immigration: in the Pulpit and the Pew. It appears that, at the very least, we must acknowledge a strand within Christianity that provides ideological support for white privilege as well as the economic, cultural and military machinery maintaining it. Moreover, this strand is not a mere fringe phenomenon.

Given the scriptural narratives and the high importance we Christians attribute to the Bible, it is hard to imagine how we got to this point. Our spiritual parents, Abraham and Sarah, were immigrants who had no legal status in the land of their sojourning. Like so many immigrants today, they were forced to flee their homeland to escape starvation and went as far as to trade sexual favors to get across the border. The children of Israel were descendants of Jacob whose family fled starvation in Canaan only to end up as a hated minority within the borders of a superpower that enslaved and oppressed them. When finally Israel did take possession of the promised land, she was told in no uncertain terms that she was not to replicate the ways of the empire from which she had been liberated: “When an alien resides with you in your land, you shall not oppress the alien. The alien who resides with you shall be to you as the citizen among you; you shall love the alien as yourself, for you were aliens in the land of Egypt: I am the Lord your God.”  Leviticus 19:34. We worship as Lord a child whose family was forced to flee their homeland in order to escape the genocidal madness of Herod the Great. We are disciples of the one who “had nowhere to lay his head.” Matthew 8:20. Our spiritual ancestors understood their status as resident aliens and remind us that “here we have no lasting city, but we seek the city which is to come.” Hebrews 13:14. So how did we get to the point where our hearts bleed for hypothetical bakers that might hypothetically be asked to bake a cake that might hypothetically be used in the wedding reception for a same sex couple, while turning a deaf ear and a cold heart to children fleeing across our borders from war, starvation and abuse?

Yes, that question is rhetorical. I understand the historical currents that created Christendom and shaped the church’s roll as ideological defender of western civilization and culture. I understand, too, the role of racism and how we have come to internalize and institutionalize it, even and perhaps especially in the church. The real question is, how do we get back to our biblical roots? I am wondering whether that can even happen with a church so thoroughly integrated into the Americana landscape. Perhaps we need to deconstruct the American church as we know it. Maybe that job is being done for us. It may be that mainline decline about which we do so much fretting and fussing is the wrecking ball of God.

To be honest, I don’t relish the idea that God is bringing us to the end of an era. There is much about the church in this country that I love: the majestic sanctuaries at the heart of our cities, the schools, colleges and seminaries preserving the richness of our theological, historical and liturgical traditions, the social ministries providing, food, housing, comfort and advocacy for the most vulnerable among us. My gut tells me we need to do everything possible to preserve as much as we can. Like Saint Peter, I would rather talk Jesus out of the cross. Surely there is a better way. If we just tweak the old ecclesiastical machinery a bit, pump a little more money into it and get the right consultants on board, we can turn this decline around. But that might not be the most faithful course to follow. If I am hearing Jesus correctly, you sometimes need to die before you can even think properly about living.

The way of the cross in our culture, as Douglas John Hall sees it, is to embrace our demise instead of trying to run away from it. Hall would have us accept the end of church as we know it as God’s judgment on what we have been. But it is not only that. To accept our end is also to make room for a new beginning. Without death, there can be no resurrection.

So what if our worst fears materialize? It may well be that the trends toward mainline protestant decline are not reversible, that they will continue for the foreseeable future no matter what we do. We might well find that, in a few decades, we will be but a shadow of our former self-at least institutionally. But perhaps a smaller, poorer, humbler church living and speaking from the margins of society is precisely the sort of church Jesus needs. It may just be that in losing our institutional lives, we will rediscover our true ecclesiastical self. We might find ourselves once again among the refugees on the outside looking in. But it is precisely there that we will most certainly find Jesus and the life he freely offers us.

Isaiah 50:4-9a

As was the case last week, our lesson comes to us from the Book of Isaiah. Scholars attribute this text to “Second Isaiah” (Isaiah 40-55), a collection of oracles authored in the main by an anonymous prophet speaking a message of salvation to the Jewish exiles living in Babylon during the 6th Century B.C.E. His was the task of alerting his fellow exiles to the new opportunity created for them to return home to Palestine opened up by Persia’s conquest of Babylon. On the one hand, the prophet makes a joyous declaration of salvation for Israel and announces the potential for a new start. On the other hand, the prophet makes clear that God is doing with Israel something entirely new. This will not be a return to “the good old days” when Israel was a powerful and independent people under the descendants of David. That, according to the prophet, “is too light a thing” for the people of God. Israel and the servant prophet are to be given “as a light to the nations, that my salvation may reach to the end of the earth.” Isaiah 49:6.

This particular reading is taken from the third of Isaiah’s four “servant songs.” The other three are found at Isaiah 42:1–9, Isaiah 49:1-6 and Isaiah 52:13-53:12. According to biblical commentator Claus Westermann, these songs represent a special strand within section two of Isaiah. Westermann, Claus, Isaiah 40-66, The Old Testament Library (c. SCM Press, Ltd. 1969) p.  92. Scholars hold differing views on the identity of the “servant” in these songs. Some view the servant as an individual, perhaps the prophet himself/herself. Others maintain that the servant is the people of Israel whose covenant life in the restored Jerusalem will enlighten the nations. Christians from very early on have seen reflected in these verses the ministry of Jesus. It seems to me that all of these interpretations are valid in some measure. Clearly, the prophet himself/herself understood that s/he was announcing an act of God that would be revelatory for all peoples. So too Israel always had an awareness that her existence was in part a demonstration of God’s glory to the world though, like the church, she tended to forget that aspect of her calling at times. The church likewise confessed from the outset that Jesus’ lordship was defined in terms of the hopes and expectations set forth in the Hebrew Scriptures. Just as the faithful service of the prophet was a model for Israel’s servant role among the nations, so the church is a continuation of Jesus’ faithful ministry. In sum, these differing interpretations enrich rather than contradict one another.

Though tidings of a new beginning might at first blush sound like good news, it is likely that many of the exiles did not hear it that way. Life in cosmopolitan Babylon may not have seemed much like captivity to the second generation of Jews who had purchased land, begun businesses or secured important posts in the Babylonian government. Giving up the security of a settled existence for a dangerous trip back to a ruined land must have seemed like madness to them. No doubt they resented and perhaps feared this prophet and his/her preaching that enticed members of the community away from their homes and families to embark on such a misguided adventure. Not surprisingly, the prophet met with resistance that included violence (smiting, spitting and pulling out the beard). Vs. 6. The prophet is undismayed by this abuse, confident that his commission is from the God of Israel. Vss. 7-9.

Westermann notes that “[t]he special characteristic of the prophetic office is the very fact that the prophet wakens his ear ‘morning by morning,’ and must continually allow it to be opened by God, in order to have ‘an answer to give to the weary.’” Ibid. p. 229. Perhaps this is what John the evangelist had in mind when he quotes Jesus as saying: “My teaching is not mine, but his who sent me.” John 7:16. The incarnation, then, fuses the prophet and the Word as one. Not surprisingly, then, the rejection of that Word by a sinful world, as occurred most definitively in the passion narrative, takes the form of lethal violence.

Westermann believes these passages from Isaiah to be “truly revolutionary in their importance” because they express the servant’s acceptance of his/her persecution as an affliction intended by God as the fulfillment of his/her prophetic mission. Ibid. p. 231. Though the psalmists and the prophets, most notably Jeremiah, struggle with seemingly unmerited persecution which they hope to see redressed through retribution of some kind, the servant seeks not retribution but vindication. Israel’s final salvation, not her just punishment, will demonstrate that the servant’s suffering is not evidence of God’s rejection, but of the prophet’s faithfulness.

I agree with Westermann’s reading of this text, though I am not convinced that it is quite as revolutionary as he supposes. While the early prophets could be caustic in their prayers for retribution against their enemies and unsparing in their proclamations of judgment, they never lost sight of their solidarity with Israel. Even the socially ostracized Jeremiah could weep bitterly over the fate of his people-however justly deserved it might be. Jeremiah 9:1. Isaiah recognizes that he is “a man of unclean lips, and dwells in the midst of a people of unclean lips.” Isaiah 6:5. As withering as Amos’ judgments against Israel were, he prayed fervently that the people might be spared the worst of God’s wrath. Amos 7:1-6. In sum, the prophets always understood God’s judgment as an instrument of healing and salvation. Similarly, they must have understood at some level that their persecutions were part and parcel of their callings.

These observations tie naturally into the passion narrative foreshadowed in the gospel. The persecuted and rejected prophetic word, now become flesh, is vindicated and triumphs not through an act of counter-violence, but through God’s patient determination to keep on speaking the gracious invitation to forgiveness, reconciliation and peace in the face of hostile opposition. God’s power is God’s patience.

Psalm 116:1-9

This is a prayer of thanksgiving offered along with a cultic sacrifice as evidenced by verses 17-19 (not in the reading) by a person who has just come through a very difficult time in his or her life and has reached a level of recovery. We might call this new disposition a “new orientation.” Hebrew Scripture scholar Walter Brueggemann divides the psalms into three categories: Psalms of orientation, psalms of disorientation and psalms of new orientation. Brueggemann, Walter, The Message of the Psalms, (c. 1984 by Augsburg Publishing House) pp. 18-23. I believe this to be a helpful distinction because at any given time in our lives we find ourselves orientated, disorientated or re-orientated. There are in most human lives “seasons of well-being that evoke gratitude for the consistency of blessing.” Ibid. at 19.  All seems well with the world. The job is exciting and filled with opportunities for advancement. Marriage is blessed with intimacy, spontaneity and delight. The kids are getting good grades and behaving themselves. There is not a cloud in the sky. A psalm of orientation, a song of sheer praise and thanksgiving for God’s faithfulness and goodness, a prayer that asks for nothing is appropriate. There are many such in the Psalter, e.g., Psalm 111; Psalm 113; Psalm 134; Psalm 150.

Then there are psalms of disorientation arising from “seasons of hurt, alienation, suffering and death.” Ibid.  They reflect “rage, resentment, self-pity, and hatred.” Ibid. Unlike much of our protestant piety that holds such emotions at arms-length, these prayers are brutally honest about the psalmists’ hatred of his/her persecutors, anger at God and despair over life in general. I must confess that I share the discomfort experienced by many with the raw negative emotion expressed in many of these psalms. It seems rather “primitive” to be cursing enemies and praying for vengeance. But perhaps that reflects more on my sheltered and privileged existence than upon any more evolved and progressive stage of my religion. Survivors of sexual abuse, refugees forced to flee their homeland to avoid genocide and victims of racial discrimination know levels of disorientation that many of us find difficult to comprehend. These psalms testify to the readiness of God to hear their tortured cries without judgment.

Psalms of new orientation, such as our Psalm for this Sunday, are songs of those who have fallen from a secure and well oriented life into disorientation, but have experienced the salvation of a God who has led them out of the darkness and re-orientated their lives. “Human life consists in turns of surprise when we are overwhelmed with the new gifts of God, when joy breaks through the despair.” Ibid. Such was the case for the psalmist. His/her journey has not been easy, nor does it bring the psalmist back to where s/he was before. Re-orientated people have been changed forever by their trek through the darkness. They now know just how dark and terrifying life can be. But they also know just how faithful and steadfast is the God who continues to lead them even as they pass through the valley of the shadow.

This psalm does not tell us precisely what troubles the psalmist has experienced. Neither does it explain what caused the psalmist’s suffering. That is precisely what makes it so wonderfully applicable to nearly all situations of deliverance. It might well be sung by someone who has endured a long and difficult course of cancer therapy and has received news that he or she is finally “cancer free.” Or it might be heard on the lips of someone who has gone through a difficult divorce ending a relationship that was supposed to last until death-and found the way back from heartbreak and despair to a healed life of love and trust. This psalm could be the song of a recovered alcoholic or the survivor of an abusive relationship. It is important to understand that this journey did not take the psalmist back to “the way things were.” Often, there is no going back. The scars of surgery remain even after a full recovery. Life after divorce can be filled with love, life and hope-but it does not restore the relationship that was lost. There is no way back to the way things were. There is only the way forward into a new future that God promises.

As with all psalms, this one has a testimonial aspect. What God has done for the psalmist is an attribute of God’s character: readiness to help the weak and defenseless. This is part of what is implied by verse 5 in the preservation of the “simple.” Rogerson, J.W. and McKay, J.W., Psalms 101-150, The Cambridge Bible Commentary (c. 1977 by Cambridge University Press) p. 81. The psalmist would have the rest of the worshipping community know that their liturgically expressed beliefs about God are indeed true and have found expression in his/her own experience.

James 3:1-12

Early one Sunday morning a few years ago I stopped at a little convenience store near the church to pick up some milk and cream cheese for the family education hour that would follow our Eucharist. I met a very young woman with a little girl that could not have been more than four years old. The woman greeted me with the words, “Good morning, Father.” Then she said to her little girl, “You see that man? He is a priest. Do you know who a priest is?” The little girl said nothing. “A priest is someone who works for God,” the woman continued. The little girl looked up at me, wide eyed. I have no idea how much or little she understood about God or whether the word “God” had any meaning for her at all. But if she remembers anything from this interchange, it will be that people who wear black shirts and collars like mine represent God.

That is a scary notion! Now I think I understand why James tells us that “not many of you should become teachers.” Like it or not, “We who teach shall be judged with greater strictness.” Vs. 1. That might not seem fair, but it’s true. It does not matter that the instances of pedophilia are actually much lower among priests than in the male population generally. When a clergy person molests a child it is always more devastating. In addition to the permanent emotional scars always left by such abuse, the abused child’s perception of God is horribly corrupted. The public’s perception of the church-which is called to be Christ’s resurrected presence in the world-is irreparably damaged. It does not matter either that clergy are statistically among the least susceptible to crimes of embezzlement and fraud. When a pastor abuses the trust of his or her church in matters of money, the damage to the congregation far exceeds whatever the financial loss may be. Again, the church’s credibility with the public is undermined and so is its witness to Jesus and the kingdom he proclaims. So I read James’ warning with a degree of fear and trembling.

Of course, we are all teachers in some measure. Our children learn from us more than they will ever learn in Sunday School about faith, worship and discipleship. We parents are teaching our children by example every waking moment about love, forgiveness, faithfulness and the importance of worship-or not. They learn from us how to treat people with compassion and respect-or not. They learn from us the habits of prayer, promise keeping and honesty-or not. They see Jesus formed in the families we raise-or not. We cannot avoid being teachers. The question is, how well and faithfully are we teaching? What lessons do our children come away with? What are they learning from our examples about what really matters?

James draws our attention to our use of speech as the chief source of potential destructiveness. It takes only one disparaging word to undo the sense of confidence, self-worth and courage that parents, teachers and mentors work so hard to instill in a child. Once a false rumor gets started, it continues to live on, projecting itself over the internet, through mouths of talk show hosts and in idle conversation-even after it has conclusively been refuted. But the most insidious abuse of speech, as far as disciples of Jesus are concerned, is its effect on our witness. Like every other gift, speech is intended to give glory to God and to serve our neighbor. Yet when speech is used to injure, insult and destroy, it becomes “a restless evil, full of deadly poison.” Vs. 9

The Eighth Commandment is clearly implicated here: “You shall not bear false witness.” In his Small Catechism, Luther writes concerning this commandment that “We should fear and love God that we may not deceitfully belie, betray, slander, or defame our neighbor, but defend him, [think and] speak well of him, and put the best construction on everything.” It is the second part of Luther’s admonition that needs our attention. It is easy enough for me to stand by and remain silent when I am part of a conversation in which someone is being attacked. Much harder it is to come to their defense, to speak well of them and try to convince everyone else to give them the benefit of the doubt. This is particularly so in cases where I tend to think that the victim might deserve some criticism or when I have my own reasons for feeling angry at him or her. But whether the absent person is guilty or not, the point is that he or she is absent. That person is the one who needs to hear whatever just criticism any individual may have. Speaking it in his or her absence only conveys a one sided account to other people who may not even have any part in the dispute. Such speech, rather than bringing about healing, reconciliation and understanding, instead broadens the conflict and contributes to distortion and misunderstanding.

Mark 8:27-38

This episode is a watershed event for the Gospel of Mark. Throughout the gospel the disciples have been struggling with the identity of Jesus. Of course, we as readers know that Jesus is God’s Son and Israel’s Messiah because we were told that in Mark 1:1. Jesus knows who he is because the Spirit descended upon him at his baptism by John in the Jordan, telling him that he is God’s Son, the beloved. Mark 1:9-11. The demons know who Jesus is and are ready to proclaim it-except that Jesus will not let them. Mark 1:21-27. Jesus’ disciples, however, remain in the dark about who he is. After Jesus calmed the storm on the Sea of Galilee, the disciples ask in wonder, “Who is this, that even the wind and the waves obey him?” Mark 4:35-41.

Jesus first asks the disciples who members of the public believe him to be. Vs. 27. They give him various responses: John the Baptist raised from death; Elijah returning from heaven as long foretold by the prophet Malachi (Malachi 4:5-6); one of the great prophets of the Hebrew Scriptures. Vs. 28. It is, of course, conceivable that First Century Jews among the Galilean commoners might have formed any one of these opinions about Jesus. Yet it is curious that there is no mention by the disciples of anyone among the people entertaining the possibility that Jesus might be the messiah. Indeed, I would expect that to be the first guess of the anxious populace! Be that as it may, from a literary standpoint it is perfectly understandable that Mark reserves for the disciples the discovery and confession of his identity. For Mark’s gospel has been striving to make clear to us that Jesus can never be rightly understood apart from discipleship. Only as one follows Jesus in “the way” does one begin to know him.

Now Jesus pops the question directly, “So, who do you say that I am.” Vs. 29. The emphatic use of the Greek pronoun, “You” or “Umeis,” serves to reinforce the point that, as noted previously, what is said about Jesus by his disciples is critical because only followers of Jesus can confess Jesus. See Hooker, Morna D., The Gospel According to Saint Mark, Black’s New Testament Commentaries (c. 1991 by Morna D. Hooker, pub. by Hendrickson Publishers) p. 202. Peter, ever the impetuous spokesperson for the disciples, blurts out his answer. “You are the Messiah.” Vs. 29. That is half the answer. Jesus is indeed the Messiah promised to Israel. But he is more than that. Peter’s answer is therefore incomplete. Just how far Peter is from understanding Jesus becomes clear in the next scene.

This is the first place in the Gospel of Mark where Jesus speaks specifically about his coming suffering, death and resurrection. Vss. 31-33. He will do so two more times. Mark 9:30-32; Mark 10:33-34. Once again, Peter is the disciple who responds to Jesus’ words-and with a rebuke. Vs. 32. Mark does not tell us exactly what Peter said, but Peter seems to have taken Jesus aside to have his conversation in private. On the face of it, it sounds reasonable. It is what good friends do when they hear a friend talking about his imminent death. “Oh, don’t talk rubbish! Things will get better. You’ll see. Nothing of the kind will happen to you. I’ll see to that!” Jesus, however, turns and sees his disciples. Vs. 33. Why does Mark add this little observation? What does the sight of Jesus’ disciples do to evoke Jesus’ harsh response to Peter? I suspect that the sight of his disciples reminds Jesus why his suffering, death and resurrection are so important for this little community of followers, the embryonic church. Yes, the cross might be avoided. Jesus could remain in Galilee with his disciples, teaching in the wilderness, on the lake shore and outside of the towns and villages. That way, he might evade capture indefinitely. Indeed, if Jesus had been content to remain on the outskirts, it is possible that neither Rome nor the Jerusalem religious establishment would have considered him a threat worth pursuing. But Jesus came not merely to level criticism against the powers that be from a safe distance. He came to challenge the right of those powers to rule God’s creation. He came to establish the reign of God. The world needs to be told that Caesar is not Lord. The world needs to hear that God is not the property of any religious elite. There must be a confrontation between the power of empire that claims to rule God’s world and the Son of Man who actually does. Only so will the world know how different the gentle reign of God over creation is and that this reign of God finally will displace the imperial rulers who seek in every age to grasp the reins of power.

Of course, the reign of God will not be born without the pain, rending and blood that accompanies every birth. Just as Jesus will confront the violent reign of the powers that be with the gentleness of God’s reign on the cross, so the disciples will be called upon to live under God’s kingdom in a world that is hostile to it. The cross of Jesus will become their own. As Clarence Jordan would say, the church must become a demonstration plot for the reign of God, a reign that must finally extend to all creation. But the shape of life under God’s reign in a sinful world is the cross. Again, this is not to glorify suffering in and of itself. Suffering is unequivocally bad. Nevertheless, suffering that is incurred as a result of faithful discipleship can be redeemed. Just as God raised Jesus, the one who was faithful to God unto death, so God raises up his disciples whose witness to God’s peaceful kingdom in a violent world leads them into the heart of conflict, persecution and suffering.

Staying alive is not everything. “Survivalists” fail to understand that in making survival the number one priority, they are surrendering what is most precious. The kingdom Jesus proclaims is worth living for. And if living for the kingdom results in our dying, then the kingdom is also worth dying for. As the late Dr. Martin Luther King put it, “If there is nothing you are willing to die for, you have nothing to live for.” Or in the words of Jesus, “What does it profit one to gain the whole world, but lose one’s self?” Vss. 36-37.

Sunday, September 6th

FIFTEENTH SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST

Isaiah 35:4-7a
Psalm 146
James 2:1-17
Mark 7:24-37

PRAYER OF THE DAY: Gracious God, throughout the ages you transform sickness into health and death into life. Open us to the power of your presence, and make us a people ready to proclaim your promises to the whole world, through Jesus Christ, our healer and Lord.

“Put not your trust in princes…” Psalm 146:3.

This renunciation did not come cheaply for Israel. From the dawn of the Iron Age when the people first demanded a king and the prophet Samuel reluctantly anointed one for them until the disastrous wars against Rome that ended once and for all her hopes for national restoration, Israel’s trust in human leaders invariably led to disappointment. The psalmist testifies to this hard won wisdom and warns his/her people against yielding again to the Siren song of messianic pretenders. Happy the people “whose help is the God of Jacob, whose hope is in the Lord [their] God,” s/he declares. Psalm 146:5. God alone can be trusted to “uphold those who are bowed down…” to watch over the resident alien, to “uphold the widow and the fatherless…” Psalm 146:8-9. Yet it seems we cannot do without some type of human governance. That is why for the last three decades I have faithfully made my sojourn to the polling station on the first Tuesday in November to cast my vote.

But not this time. I have finally decided that, for the time being at least, I am through voting in national elections. I can already hear the howls of protest. How irresponsible to lay down a potent weapon in the struggle for social justice! How cold and unfeeling to abandon the marginalized by forsaking the political process! How can I so heartlessly turn my back on the needs of the world to revel in my self-centered, other worldly piety? Do I really imagine that I can keep my soul pure by refusing to dirty my hands with the hard work of advocating justice, peace and equity in the public forum? I don’t take these charges lightly. Nor did I make this decision without giving the matter some thought. So let me explain myself before you decide my case.

My rationale for refusing to vote is simple. I don’t vote because none of the candidates for whom I am eligible to vote care for the issues about which I am passionate. Some will offer them lip service, given the right audience. But no one I know is campaigning for truly affordable health care for all people, full and adequate funding for Medicaid and the WIC program. No candidate is running on proposals to end hunger and poverty globally or to pursue complete military disarmament. Nobody I know is advocating housing, healthcare and nutrition as basic human rights rather than mere “programs” that can be defunded at the whim of a congressional committee. If at least some of these things are not at the top of the agenda and incorporated into a candidate’s concrete proposals for the nation’s immediate future, I don’t believe it’s worth my time to stop by the ballot box.

Let me also say that, as far as I am concerned, it’s not about the economy. I have no interest in the sterile debate over which of the two major parties can do a better job of revitalizing the economy. Frankly, I have no interest in reviving an economy built on the foundation of exploited labor and risky financial ventures that put the pensions, savings and homes of ordinary people at risk to produce huge profits for speculators while producing no product of social value. I see no benefit to resurrecting an economy driven by credit rather than real wealth. We got into a recession just ten years ago through an orgy of consumption. By falsely inflating the value of real estate, mortgaging it to the hilt and packaging it into fraudulent financial instruments we duped the public into spending money we don’t have to buy things we don’t need at prices we cannot afford. Thinking that we can find our way to a sustainable solution through more of the same is lunacy. The economy does not need to be revived. It needs to be remade. I want an economy that produces goods and services that meet human need rather than satisfying human greed. I want an economy that compensates workers for the social value of what they produce. I want an economy that re-distributes wealth rather than concentrating it in the hands of a few. Nobody on any party’s slate is promising to work for that. To put it as simply as I can, I am not voting because there is no one for whom to vote.

Oddly enough, I have been called both cynical and hopelessly idealistic in almost the same breath: cynical because I have supposedly given up on politics and left it to the devil and his angels; hopelessly idealistic because it should be obvious to me that no candidate can possibly win an election on the platform I am looking for. Politics is the art of the possible, I am told. We must make the choices that are presented to us, not hold out indefinitely for choices we would like to have. But I must say, I cannot think of anything more cynical than the view that what we have on the slate is the best we will ever get and so we should just hold our noses and pull the lever for whoever’s stench is least offensive. I refuse to accept the proposition that we will never have any leader that is not selected for us by kingpins with the money and influence to buy their nominations. I must also say that I cannot imagine any sillier, more naïve, more head-head-in-the-sand notion than believing continued participation in a wholly corrupt, morally bankrupt system of elections dominated by two parties whose well-heeled handlers determine the outcome will someday produce a government with integrity. That is not even idealistic. It’s delusional.

I maintain that my refusal to vote is a vote. It is a vote of no confidence in a government by the wealthy and powerful for the wealthy and powerful. If enough of the electorate joins me, perhaps that will open the way for a new generation of leaders who see an opportunity in winning back the disenfranchised. Perhaps then we will get candidates willing to talk to us about the issues that matter. Maybe we will finally see an election that is not dominated by ideological food fights and name calling matches. Perhaps we will finally have debates consisting of more than trading sound bites. It may be that the door will finally be opened for concerns like mine actually to be heard, discussed and considered rather than dismissed out of hand as “off message.” Perhaps no vote is the only vote that holds out any hope for genuine change.

This might all be wishful thinking. I cannot guarantee that abstention from voting will bring about a salutary change. But I am reasonably sure that doing the same thing over and over based on the same assumptions and using the same methods practically guarantees getting the same result. Thirty years of voting consistently in every election has gotten me nothing but an increasingly self-interested, dysfunctional and unrepresentative government. So now I am trying something new.

Isaiah 35:4-7a

As I have noted previously, the Book of Isaiah constitutes a rich collection of prophetic oracles, prose and narrative that biblical commentators typically divide into three sections. The first section is largely attributed to the prophet Isaiah of the 8th Century B.C.E. (Isaiah 1-39). Isaiah preached to Judah and counseled her kings during a tense period of the nation’s history as she lived uneasily in the shadow of the great Assyrian Empire. The second section, sometimes called “Second Isaiah” (Isaiah 40-55), is the work of an anonymous prophet who prophesied toward the end of the Babylonian Exile between 587 B.C.E. and 539 B.C.E. The prophesies comprising what is commonly called “Third Isaiah” (Isaiah 56-66) come from a period beginning shortly after the return of the exiled Jews from Babylon in 539 B.C.E., but before the rebuilding of the temple in about 515 B.C.E. The identity of this prophet is likewise unknown.

This three part division of Isaiah, like life in general, is not as neat and tidy as we might hope. Our lesson for Sunday is a prime example. Although located within the collection of prophetic material usually attributed to the Isaiah of the 8th century, these verses are taken from a poetic composition that comes to us from the 6th century and is therefore attributed to Second Isaiah or a prophet of his or her circle. In order to get a clear picture of what is happening here, you need to read Isaiah 35 in its entirety.

The prophet’s principal concern was to encourage the exiles to return to their homeland in Palestine. Naturally, the exiles were hesitant. After all, most of these people were second generation exiles born in Babylon. For them, exile did not feel like exile. It felt like home. They had built their livelihoods in Babylon and set down roots there. How likely is it that they would want to leave all of that behind to make a dangerous trip through what is now the Iraqi desert to start all over again in a land that they knew only through stories, songs and tradition? The prophet announces that God will be with the exiles no less than with the Israelites in Egypt. God will cause a garden to bloom in the heart of the desert rich with pools of water, vegetation and shade. No dangerous animal will inhabit this Eden like paradise that will stretch from Babylon to Jerusalem. Moreover, the garden highway will remain forever as a memorial to God’s new saving act of deliverance for the exiles. As the exiles set out on their journey home, their illnesses will be healed. The blind will see. The lame will dance and the deaf will hear.

One might fault the prophet for over promising. After all, we know that no such miraculous garden ever sprang up from the desert floor. We know also that the exiles’ journey back to Palestine was difficult and dangerous. Moreover, when the exiles arrived back home they found their beloved city in ruins, the land occupied by hostile peoples and much political resistance to rebuilding the community. Yet in spite of all that, the exiles did in fact return. The prophet’s message inspired them to respond in faith to this new window of opportunity and so a new chapter in Israel’s history began.

I believe this reading is instructive for us on many levels. First, it teaches us to look for the doors of opportunity God is opening for us in the unremarkable occurrences of everyday life. The exiles might have looked at the conquest of Babylon by Persia as no more than a geopolitical event that meant nothing to them. One tyrannical empire conquers another. That is how it has always been. Now we have a new master. So what? It took a prophetic imagination to see in this event an opportunity for something truly new. It took the eye of a prophet to spot God’s hand at work in what most would cynically characterize as “geopolitics as usual.” So where are the opportunities God is making in our world today? What doors are being opened? Is God dangling a glorious future right under our nose, but we fail to see it because we are so fixated on the past we lost and to which we long to return? What will it take to reignite a prophetic imagination in our hearts and minds?

Another aspect of all this is that, in some respects, the prophecy failed. The miraculous signs did not occur. The eternal memorial highway from Babylon to Jerusalem never materialized. The rebuilt community did not become the glorious magnet of wisdom and teaching that would draw all nations to peaceful co-existence. Then again, maybe the prophecy has not failed. Perhaps it still awaits fulfillment. Maybe this word of the Lord is bigger and more profound than even the prophet realized. Does God still have plans for Jerusalem? I hesitate even to ask the question because there is so much bad theology out there about the restoration of Jerusalem. Some of that theology calls for uncritical and unquestioned support for the State of Israel based on the mistaken belief that the rebuilding of Solomon’s temple (highly unlikely to occur for many reasons) will trigger a bloody end to the present age and the dawn of a new one-for the survivors anyway. Naturally, we don’t want to encourage these misguided notions.

Still, we ought not to over spiritualize this text. Clearly, Jerusalem is central to God’s saving work in the Hebrew Scriptures. Jesus wept over Jerusalem and brought his ministry to conclusion there. The New Testament speaks of Jerusalem as a potent symbol of the fulfillment of God’s ultimate intent of living among human creatures. Revelation 21:3-4. Jerusalem has been throughout the scriptures a unifying symbol of peace. Yet throughout history, the city of Jerusalem has been anything but that. Like the prophecy in Isaiah, the symbol that is Jerusalem has yet to become an historical reality.

I have never been a fan of “interfaith” dialogue. I find that enterprise generally trite, superficial and unproductive. Nevertheless, I cannot overlook the fact that the city of Jerusalem is a potent symbol of salvation, justice and peace for the three Abrahamic faiths, Judaism, Islam and Christianity. Perhaps a good place to begin a truly fruitful discussion is around the city of Jerusalem that means so much to all of us. How do we understand the role of Jerusalem in each of our faith traditions? Are we content to let Jerusalem continue being a source and center of bloody conflict? How might Zion become the crossroads where nations come for instruction in the ways of peace and justice? See Isaiah 2:2-5.

Psalm 146

This is a psalm of praise celebrating the sovereignty of Israel’s God. Like the rest of the psalms that follow it to the end of the Psalter (Psalm 147-Psalm 150), this hymn begins and ends with the exclamation, “hallelujah” which is Hebrew for “Praise Yahweh!” It is likely that this psalm comes rather late in Israel’s history. We know, at any rate, that it was used in later Judaism as part of daily morning prayer. Weiser, Artur, The Psalms, A Commentary, The Old Testament Library (c. 1962 by S.C.M. Press, Ltd.) p. 830. There is no mention of the line of David nor any hint of the monarchy in Israel. After a half millennia of disappointing kings whose leadership ultimately led to the destruction of Solomon’s temple, the siege of Jerusalem and the loss of the promised land, Israel was in no mood to put her trust in yet another royal figure:

Do not put your trust in princes, in mortals, in whom there is no help.

When their breath departs, they return to the earth; on that very day their plans perish.

Vss. 3-4. Instead, Israel is encouraged to put her trust in God. God is the one ruler who “sets the prisoners free.” Only “the Lord opens the eyes of the blind…lifts up those who are bowed down…” and “loves the righteous.”vss. 7-9. The only king worthy of our trust is the God of Israel.

The psalm concludes with the bold affirmation that the Lord will reign forever. The implication is that God has been reigning throughout history in spite of some severe setbacks for Israel and despite her precarious existence under foreign domination and occupation. This confidence is rooted in Israel’s past experience of God’s salvation for the poor and downtrodden in the Exodus, Wilderness Wanderings and the Conquest of the Land of Canaan. The return from Exile might also be in view here.

But it must also be said that Israel’s faith is future oriented. There is reflected here a hope, expectation and longing for the “Day of the Lord” when perfect justice and righteousness will be established through the defeat of Israel’s enemies. Everson, A. J., “Day of the Lord,” The Interpreter’s Dictionary of the Bible, Supplementary Vol. (c. 1976 by Abingdon) pp. 209-210.   This hope is sometimes expressed in military terms. When Israel prevailed over her enemies in war, she always understood these victories as engineered by God. See, e.g., Deuteronomy 8:17; Psalm 44:1-3. Yet from the time of the Judges to the time of the Maccabean princes, Israel’s experience with political and military rulers had been a disappointment. Even the best of these leaders had failed to inaugurate anything like the new creation to which her prophets testified. Clearly, another kind of messiah was needed.

James 2:1-17

For my general comments on the Letter of James, see my remarks at last week’s post for Sunday, August 30, 2015.

This Sunday’s lesson begins with an admonition against making judgmental distinctions among people within the church. Of course, there are legitimate distinctions among members of the Body of Christ as Paul points out. There are various gifts given to different members for use in building up the church. Some are called to preach, others to teach, still others to evangelize and so on. But there is no hierarchical distinction here. Rather, each person is to use his or her gift in building up the Body of Christ. It is not important which gift you have but rather how you are using it.

James is not talking about such distinctions here. Rather, he is coming down hard on the practice of importing into the church distinctions of rank, class and social status that deserve no recognition among disciples of Jesus. Distinction based on wealth noted by James is but one example of such improper discrimination. There are many others. Sunday morning is still the most racially segregated time of the week in our country.  To our shame, I must point out that my own Evangelical Lutheran Church in America leads the pack on that score. See The Most and Least Racially Diverse U.S. Religious Groups. I don’t believe that most churches consciously decide to segregate. In fact, most protestants surveyed would agree with the statement, “Our church needs to become more racially/culturally diverse.” See “Research: Racial Diversity at Church More Dream Than Reality” at Lifeway Research. Diversity is widely lauded as an important principle. Everybody wants diversity. They just don’t want to be around people that are different. Our welcome extended to folks outside of our racial/cultural preserve grows cold when it becomes clear that “they” are not going to become like “us.” As James would point out, we never really do extend a genuine welcome to anyone we think of as “them.”

Some churches distinguish between charter members or “long time” members and more recent members, affording more respect and giving greater deference to the opinions of the former. It is also not uncommon for church leaders to yield to the demands of a high volume contributor or make concessions to individuals who provide valuable services to the church that might otherwise require expenditures of money. Nepotism is fairly common in churches, especially smaller congregations where a single family can exercise a substantial influence. All such favoritism tarnishes the church’s witness to God’s kingdom that makes no such distinctions among the baptized.

Often I believe churches practice an unintentional but deeply improper discrimination against children. I have never favored the practice of running “child care rooms” during the worship service or conducting Sunday School classes while the grownups are in church. Yes, I know how hard it is to be in church with small children. I raised three of my own. I know what it is like trying to keep them pacified, taking them in and out to the bathroom, enduring the annoyed and agitated stares of people in the surrounding pews. I’ve been there and done that. But I will add that I don’t regret a minute of it and I believe that there is no better place for a small child to be during the worship service than in the worship service. And let me go on record here to say that, as a pastor, I don’t care how loud, disruptive or hyperactive kids get during worship. From my perspective, there is only one thing worse than babies crying in church: no babies crying in church.

Mark 7:24-37

I don’t much care for the way Jesus treats this Syrophonician woman, but I can understand it. Jesus went away to the region of Tyre and Sidon. This is gentile territory, territory where Jesus probably would not be generally known. Evidently, he wanted it that way. Jesus entered a home intending not to be seen or recognized. Vs. 24. Jesus had had enough. He had fed two crowds of people after teaching them for several days. He has had to endure constant sniping and criticism from his enemies. He has had to put up with the faithless and dimwitted antics of his disappointing disciples. Now Jesus is entitled to some down time. But even in this district where he should be anonymous, he cannot be hid. Vs. 24. A woman comes crying after him, begging him for help. Jesus snaps at her. “Let not the children’s bread be thrown to the dogs!” vs. 27. That sounds harsh and it is. But it is just a fact of life. Not even Jesus can heal everyone in the world. You have to draw the line somewhere, don’t you? Furthermore, dogs are dependent animals. They live from the hands of their masters, “the children.” If the children are not fed, the dogs will perish as well. Jesus needs his bread. If he doesn’t get it, nobody gets fed.

Yet the woman will not leave it there. Yes, she says, the children must be fed. But even so, there is enough left over to feed the dogs. Vs. 28. This remarkable woman is turning back on Jesus his own teachings that have been demonstrated not once, but twice in his feeding of the five thousand and four thousand respectively. God always provides enough for everyone’s need (if not for everyone’s greed). We cannot tell from the text, but it would not surprise me if Jesus smiled at this point as if to say, “Alright, you got me.”

If it is a little discomforting to see Jesus getting tired, irritated and losing his cool, perhaps that is because we forget that he was, after all, fully human. Jesus got tired and cranky like everyone else. Jesus was afraid of suffering and prayed to be delivered from the cross. When he was crucified, the pain, the suffering and despair was real. It was not just Superman playing dead. Living faithfully as God’s son did not make Jesus any less human. In fact, you could say that Jesus is the only one ever to have lived a genuinely human life.  We say that he was without sin not because he lacked human limitations, but because he lived faithfully within those limitations trusting his Heavenly Father with all matters beyond those limits.

The second story in this Sunday’s reading is Jesus’ healing the deaf and speechless man. This healing is intensely personal. In contrast to the exorcism of the Syrophonician woman’s daughter, whose demon was cast out from a distance, Jesus gets physical here. He touches the man’s ears. He spits and touches his tongue. Vs. 33. He looks up to heaven and sighs. He shouts, “Be open!” vs. 34. Everything Jesus does here is reflected in the healing rituals of other wonder workers in legends current during the ministry of Jesus. Nineham, D.E., Saint Mark, The Pelican New Testament Commentaries (c. 1963 by D.E. Nineham, pub. by Penguin Books, Ltd.) pp. 203-204. The casting out of the demon in the prior story seemed almost effortless. This healing appears to require a great deal of exertion on Jesus’ part. I am not sure what is going on here. Is Jesus slowing down? Is the frantic pace of his ministry as related in Mark’s gospel finally starting to take its toll? In any event, Jesus once again enjoins to secrecy this man who has received the benefit of healing. As in prior instances, Jesus’ admonitions prove ineffective. The news of his good work spreads despite his efforts to keep it confidential. It appears that not even Jesus can hide himself or keep a lid on the good news of God’s coming reign.

Sunday, August 30th

FOURTEENTH SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST

Deuteronomy 4:1-2, 6-9
Psalm 15
James 1:17-27
Mark 7:1-8, 14-15, 21-23

PRAYER OF THE DAY: O God our strength, without you we are weak and wayward creatures. Protect us from all dangers that attack us from the outside, and cleanse us from all evil that arises from within ourselves, that we may be preserved through your Son, Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord.

Our lessons this week focus on what is “clean” and “unclean;” on what qualities are required of one who would approach a holy God in worship; and on what it means to “keep your soul diligently” by obeying the Commandments. These were deep concerns of the Pharisees who, I believe, have gotten a bum rap from Christian preachers over the centuries. These folks were mindful that their call to be God’s chosen people set them apart from all other nations, tribes and peoples. They understood that their lives were to reflect the generosity and compassion God had demonstrated toward them throughout their history. The rituals they observed were designed to remind them that each moment of every day belonged to the Lord; each activity was an opportunity for worship; all the good things in daily life were gifts from the generous hand of a God who never tires of giving. It comes in poor grace for us mainline protestants, whose lives differ so little from those around us that no one would know we were affiliated with a church unless they bothered to ask, to criticize the Pharisees for desiring to give expression to their identity as God’s people. I could wish that my own church were a bit more “Pharisaic.”

But there is a danger inherent in pursuing holiness. In their zeal to keep the Torah, the Pharisees developed “the traditions of the elders.” These statutes, though not specifically grounded in Torah, nevertheless spelled out what the teachers of the law believed to be the natural implications of Torah obedience. These rules formed a “hedge” around the Torah to ensure that nobody ever got close enough to the commandments to break them. The problem is that they also prevented one from getting close enough to keep them. Sometimes faithfulness to the traditions blinded the Pharisees to the demands of the law and even provided convenient excuses for avoiding the divine commandments. What is “legal” does not always equate with what is “holy.”

What was true of the Pharisees is no less so for Christians. White evangelical Christians experience scruples over baking a cake for the reception of a same sex wedding yet, according to a recent poll, they also overwhelmingly support a presidential candidate who promises to boot eleven million resident aliens out of the country if elected. Can you guess which of these two activities the Bible actually condemns? If you are in doubt, check out Leviticus 19:33-34. Apart from the requirement of leaving the yeast out of Passover bread, I can’t find any other passages that regulate baking. Oddly enough though, Saint Paul tells us that “if your enemy is hungry, feed him…” Romans 12:20. So it seems to me that, even if you do regard a same sex couple as the enemy, baking a cake for them is precisely what you should be doing. Amazing what you learn when you actually read the Bible instead of letting politicians tell you what it says!

The sad truth is that Christians are just as guilty (perhaps more so) of reading the Bible through the lens of their preconceived, culturally conditioned notions of “clean” and “unclean” as were the Pharisees. We have allowed our economic interests, professional ambitions, racial prejudices, cultural biases and national loyalties to distort the commandments into instruments of hatred and exclusion. We are allowing the good news of Jesus Christ to be drowned out by the self-righteous, preachy-screechy moralism of an angry minority imagining that its own self-made “values” embody God’s commands. Jesus is speaking directly to us in this week’s gospel: “you have a fine way of rejecting the commandment of God in order to keep your tradition!” Mark 7:9.

I don’t believe the Pharisees were entirely off base. They recognized that, for followers of a God who frees the slave, cares for the oppressed and seeks the good of the least, some things truly are unclean and must be avoided. They were simply confused, as are we, about what those things are. So perhaps we ought to ask, what is truly unclean for us? The automobiles we drive that contribute to global warming and ecological imbalance? The food we consume that is produced at bargain prices by undervalued and underpaid labor? The television programs and movies that flood our living rooms with violence, exploitive sex and stimulate our endless appetite for unsustainable consumption? Firearms designed for no other purpose than to kill people?

In the final analysis, the critical question is not so much about what is to be avoided as what is to be pursued. Jesus has told us that the two greatest commandments (which in reality are one command) are to love God and to love our neighbor. Nowhere is God’s holiness better seen than in the face of another created in God’s image. There is no other way to love God than loving God’s creatures. These love commands determine the shape of any and all tradition-not the other way around.

Deuteronomy 4:1-2, 6-9

The Book of Deuteronomy is the fifth and last of the five making up the “Books of Moses” or the “Pentateuch.” Literally translated, the word “Deuteronomy” means “second law-giving.” In fact, however, the orations given by Moses reflect not so much a different law as an application of the same law given at Sinai to Israel’s new circumstances. More than a recitation of the statutes given in Exodus, Leviticus and Numbers, the orations of Moses in Deuteronomy articulate a unique polity under which Israel is to live and by which she is to be distinguished from the rest of the world’s nations. Like other books in the Pentateuch, Deuteronomy is a work that was completed in several stages. Though sources incorporated into the final product are likely much older, the book itself was likely completed at some point between the fall of the Northern Kingdom in 721 B.C.E. and the return of the Exiles from Babylon around 535 B.C.E. Scholars generally agree that parts of Deuteronomy are related to the book discovered in the Temple archives during the reign of King Josiah beginning in 621 B.C.E. See II Kings 22:3-13. The book as a whole, however, appears to have been addressed specifically to the returning Babylonian exiles as they set about reconstituting and rebuilding their communal existence.

Deuteronomy’s literary setting is the conclusion of Moses’ life and ministry.  Israel stands poised to cross the Jordan River and enter into Canaan. The years of living as wandering nomads have come to an end. Israel’s settled future as a nation in its own right is about to begin. The critical question is: what sort of nation will Israel be? At the dawn of history, Cain asked God rhetorically, “Am I my brother’s keeper?” Genesis 4:9. That cold indifference characterized humanity’s efforts to unite the world through empire. All such human endeavors ultimately crumble under the weight of human pride leaving the world divided by language, tribe and nation. Genesis 11:1-9. Israel got a taste of imperial life at the bottom of the societal food chain during her years of slavery in the land of Egypt.

Moses makes clear to Israel that God did not liberate her from Egypt and bring her safely through the wilderness only to create another Egypt, another oppressive empire living off the forced labor of its oppressed subjects. Israel is not to be distinguished by its commercial success or its military might. When the nations of the world look to Israel they are not to be terrified of its power or dazzled by its wealth. Instead, they will say, “Surely this great nation is a wise and understanding people.” vs. 6. “For what great nation is there,” asks Moses, “that has a god so near to it as the Lord our God is to us; whenever we call upon him? And what great nation is there that has statutes and ordinances so righteous as all this law which I set before you this day?”  Vss. 7-8. Israel’s greatness lies in her recognition that the earth is the Lord’s. Her possession of the land is a gift given not in perpetuity, but as a sacred trust to be used for the greater glory of her God. Israel is not to replicate Egypt by enslaving the resident aliens within her borders (or booting them out and building a fence against them for that matter). Instead, she is instructed to “Love the sojourner therefore; for you were sojourners in the land of Egypt.” Deuteronomy 10:19. Furthermore, Israel is to be a nation without poverty. Disparity in wealth there may be, but Israel’s statutes and ordinances governing commerce and agriculture ensure that no one must ever go without the necessities of life: “And when you reap the harvest of your land, you shall not reap your field to its very border, nor shall you gather the gleanings after your harvest; you shall leave them for the poor and the stranger; I am the Lord your God.” Leviticus 23:22. Moreover, “If there is among you a poor man, one of your brethren, in any of your towns within your land which the Lord your God gives you, you shall not harden your heart or shut your hand against your poor brother, but you shall open your hand to him and lend him sufficient for his need, whatever it may be.” Deuteronomy 15:7-8.

Jesus also made it clear to his disciples that they were to be an alternative community modeling a different way of living together. “You know that those who are supposed to rule over the Gentiles lord it over them, and their great men exercise authority over them. But it shall not be so among you; but whoever would be great among you must be your servant, and whoever would be first among you must be slave of all. For the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.” Mark 10:42-45. The community of disciples is subject to a kingdom without borders. In Christ there is neither Jew nor Gentile, slave nor free, male nor female, straight nor gay, legal nor illegal, criminal nor law abiding citizen. See Galatians 3:28. All of these are called to be one body of which Jesus Christ is the head.

Psalm 15

Archeologists have recovered a number of religious inscriptions instructing worshippers in the ancient world concerning the preparations to be made and conditions to be fulfilled before entering a shrine or temple. These texts usually set forth a list of cultic requirements for cleansing, proper ritual attire and acceptable offerings. Our psalm focuses instead on traits of character and ethical conduct as critical for determining worthiness to approach the Lord in worship. See Rogerson, J.W. & McKay, J.W., Psalms 1-50, Cambridge Bible Commentary (c. 1977 Cambridge University Press) p. 65. The requirements for approaching the Temple have less to do with placating the desires of a ritualistically finicky deity than they do with conduct of the worshiper toward his or her neighbor. There is much that could be said about the importance of truthful speech, faithful friendship, speaking well of one’s neighbor and honoring one’s promises. But I want to focus on just one characteristic of the righteous worshiper that caught my eye this week.

The one worthy to approach the Lord in worship does not put out his money at interest. Vs. 5. This injunction sounds a little archaic to generations raised in an economy that runs on credit. Unless we are one of the fabled 1%, most of us buy houses, cars and education for our children with money we have not yet earned. If there were no credit, I would not own a home and my children would likely not have had a college education. Hopefully, I would be able to find a rental unit within walking distance of the church. Otherwise, I would have to rely on public transportation or the kindness of my wealthier neighbors. There is no question that credit has allowed me to enjoy a lifestyle to which I could hardly aspire without it.

On the face of it, there is nothing unfair about reasonable interest. If I receive money from the bank that I have not yet earned, it is only fair that the bank be compensated for losing the use of its money for a period of time and for taking the risk that I might not be able to pay it back. But there is more than fairness at stake here. There is something fundamentally troubling about the fact that the middle class lifestyle many of us enjoy; the business opportunities that many entrepreneurs are able to seize; and the chances for making quick and easy fortunes on equities and commodities markets all are based on money which has yet to be made or on the future value of goods or business ventures that is speculative. If everything from my car to Facebook is being paid for with phony money, there is good reason not only for financial concern but for deep moral reflection. There is an element of profound self-deception here that hides the true cost of what we are purchasing and conceals the risks of the transactions we enter into. The projected cost as well as the anticipated profits from fracking for natural gas, exploiting offshore oil and building nuclear energy plants cannot possibly reflect the potential economic, environmental and geopolitical forces that might very well erase all profit and inflict losses now unimaginable. The value of the fruits and vegetables we purchase does not reflect damage inflicted on the soil and ground water by pesticides, agro fertilizers or the destabilizing effect of holding prices down through use of low cost foreign labor both here and abroad. What we should have learned in the 2008 debacle applies not only to mortgages, but to everything we purchase in a credit driven society: an economy that grows by encouraging people to spend money they don’t have to buy things they cannot afford is bound to crash sooner or later.

I am not suggesting a return to barter economy. Nor am I suggesting that you all go out and cut up your credit cards (though in some extreme cases, that is actually good advice). I do believe, though, that in this time and place when everyone is fixated on “the economy,” people of faith need to go beyond the sterile debate over how best to revive it and begin questioning the fundamental assumptions that underlie our economic relationships and whether those assumptions ring true. A righteous economy is one that values all things genuinely and elevates the well-being of creation and human community over profit.

James 1:17-27

First, a word or two about the Book of James: Though styled as a letter, the book reads more like a string of sermonetts on different topics. There is no lack of debate among scholars as to whether James, the putative author of the letter, was actually the brother of Jesus we meet in Acts addressing the earliest disciples of Jesus, or a disciple of James writing in his name to a second or third generation Christian community, or some other Christian leader named James. Though many of the teachings in the book are close and even identical to sayings of Jesus, Jesus is mentioned only twice.

Scholars have argued for centuries about the theme and structure of the Book of James. Some commentators insist that there is no structure and that the Book is simply an anthology of loosely connected admonitions. Julcher, A., An Introduction to the New Testament, c. 1904 by Putnam, translated by J.P. Ward) pp. 356-358. Most commentators, however, believe that the book is held together by a structure of some sort, though they disagree over whether the structure is thematic, grammatical/syntactical (sections linked by key words or rhetorical refrains) or determined by liturgical usage. For a very thorough discussion of these formal/structural issues, see Johnson, Timothy Luke, The Letter of James, The Anchor Yale Bible, Vol. 37A (c. 1995 by Yale University Press) pp. 11-15. For a brief but thorough review of the Letter of James, its origins and content, I urge you to read the Summary Article written by James Boyce, Professor of New Testament and Greek of Luther Seminary at enterthebible.org.

The one theme that strikes me particularly this week begins at verse 19. “Let every man be quick to hear and slow to speak.” This is at variance with the encouragement I have always been given to “speak up.” As a shy introvert, I suppose that encouragement was a salutary influence. Yet as introverted as I might be by nature, I am just as prone as anyone to let anger take the wheel of my heart. Frequently, I take issue with people before trying to understand what the issue is. Often, I am more interested in refuting people I believe to be in error than in listening carefully for whatever truth may lie at the heart of what they are saying. Even when I remain characteristically silent, that does not mean that I am listening with care. Often my silence is spent in crafting my response to an argument I have not thoroughly considered. So shy people, no less than extroverts, must take James’ warning to heart.

I have often been tempted to publicize a special event at our church inviting everyone in the community who has left the church, who is not interested in the church or who is angry at the church to come and tell us why. For our part, we would promise not to argue or even answer their charges. Our role would be simply to listen. The only thing that gives me pause is doubt about my ability to keep my mouth shut. I am sure that I would hear many criticisms of the church that seem unfair, inaccurate or misplaced. I would be tempted to jump to the church’s defense with some well-reasoned response. But that would defeat the whole purpose. The ministry of listening is just that: remaining silent; making space for people to express their hurt without having to fear retaliation; showing hospitality to strangers; and creating an environment in which reconciliation is possible. So what do you think? Are we up for this?

Finally, I am struck by the phrase, “the anger of man does not work the righteousness of God.” Vs. 20. There is a lot of righteous anger out in the Christian community these days. Websites like those of the Christian Coalition, Women Concerned, Family Research Council are emitting virtual tidal waves of anger against the government, higher education, certain politicians, civic organizations, scientists, gays, lesbians and transgendered folk for reasons they can probably explain better than me. But what interests me and what is not at all evident in their propaganda is what these folks are all for. Even when they mention Jesus (which is rarely), the picture I get is a guy who is against all the things they are against. But what does he stand for besides defunding Planned Parenthood, kicking undocumented people out of the United States, shaming single mothers, driving sexual minorities back into the closet and voting liberals out of congress? The message coming out is entirely negative. This is a religion of unmitigated anger.

I don’t mean to suggest that all of this is emanating solely from the right wing of the right wing. Though I think white so called “evangelicals” have mastered institutionalized anger better than most of us, we of the mainline are not immune from the disease. I note that a good many of my own church’s  social statements often spend a tad too much ink on moral outrage against racism, pollution, genocide and whatever else and a bit too little on leading us to vision of the kingdom of heaven. Indeed, the very fact that these are denoted “statements” says volumes. As James points out to us, we must be “doers of the word, not hearers only, deceiving []ourselves.” Vs. 22. Speaking out against racism is likely to earn us the deserved label of hypocrite as long as we remain one of the most racially exclusive churches in the United States. Naming the sin does little for a church that does not model righteousness.

Mark 7:1-8, 14-15, 21-23

Once again, the lectionary people have so thoroughly butchered this text that I hardly know what to do with it. Generally speaking, chapter 7 of Mark begins with a dispute as to what constitutes uncleanness. The disciples’ eating with “hands defiled” sparks an argument between Jesus and the Pharisees. Vss. 1-2. Mark tells us by way of a parenthetical remark that the Pharisees do not eat without washing. Vss. 3-4. Some scholars have argued that this passage is anachronistic pointing out that, in the time of Jesus, the practice of washing utensils could only have pertained to the priests whose sustenance was the meat and fruits of ritual sacrifice. See Numbers 18: 8-13.  Though not specifically commanded, the necessity of washing utensils used for the priests’ meals and the requirement of cleansing their hands was readily inferred. The ritual of hand washing for the laity is not documented anywhere in the early First Century. The most ancient Jewish writings indicating that some Jews imposed this requirement date from about 100 C.E. As pointed out by more recent commentators, however, these sources describing practices of the Second Century C.E. do not negate the possibility that the same or similar practices existed in the First Century. Mark’s gospel is competent evidence that the rule concerning washing before meals may have been advocated by some Pharisees during the time of Jesus, even if not universally accepted by all. Hooker, Morna D., The Gospel According to Saint Mark, Black’s New Testament Commentaries, (c. 1991 by Morna D. Hooker, pub. by Henderson Publishers, Inc.) pp. 174-175; see also Taylor, Vincent, The Gospel According to St. Mark, (2d Add.), Thornapple Commentaries, (c. 1966 by Vincent Taylor, pub. by Baker Book House Co.) pp. 338-339; Nineham, D.E., Saint Mark, The Pelican New Testament Commentaries (c. 1963 by D.E. Nineham, pub. by Penguin Books, Ltd.) pp. 192-193.

The question of whether this story is an actual remembrance of an encounter between Jesus and some Pharisees early in the First Century or whether it reflects a dispute between the Synagogue and the church at some later time is mildly interesting, but finally misses the point. Whenever it arose, this tradition was of human origin. It should be noted that the practice of washing had nothing to do with hygiene and everything to do with ritual holiness. To treat something as holy is to recognize it as having been set aside for a sacred purpose. Meals are understood in Jewish tradition as holy in just that sense. They are the medium of covenant renewal and community solidarity. You are defined by what you eat and who eats with you. That should not be at all hard to understand and appreciate for disciples of Jesus whose most significant worship activity is the Eucharist.

Jesus had no objection to ritual per se. Ritual can serve as a helpful reminder that all aspects of life are occasions for glorifying and thanking God. But ritual is distorted and burdensome when it becomes master rather than servant. When sickness or hunger prevent a child of God from enjoying the Sabbath rest God intends for all God’s creatures, it is sinful to prevent healing or preparation of food that would open the door to Sabbath rest for such excluded persons. So also common people, having only limited access to water for drinking and none for the luxury of washing (frequently the case in semi-arid climates), must still eat in order to be whole. A tradition that bars a hungry person from enjoying meal fellowship and God-given nutrition does precisely the opposite of what ritual is supposed to do.

Jesus cites the prophet Isaiah: “Because this people draws near to me with their mouth and honors me with their lips, while their hearts are far from me, and their fear of me is a commandment of men learned by rote; therefore, behold, I will do marvelous things with this people, wonderful and marvelous; and the wisdom of their wise men shall perish, and the discernment of their discerning men shall be hid.” Isaiah 29:13-14. Actually, Jesus quotes only verse 13, but his hearers would have been well aware of what follows. So also would they have been aware of the verses immediately before: “And the vision of all this has become to you like the words of a book that is sealed. When men give it to one who can read, saying ‘Read this,’ he says, ‘I cannot, for it is sealed.’ And when they give the book to one who cannot read, saying ‘Read this,’ he says, ‘I cannot read.’” Isaiah 29:11-12. Their rituals have sealed off the meaning of the scriptures for Jesus’ opponents rendering them unintelligible.

Excluded from the Sunday reading is Jesus’ condemnation of the use of “corban” to deny aging parents the support owed by their children under the Ten Commandments. Mark 7: 9-13. The term, “corban” means simply “dedicated to God” and, as such, holy. Just as holy food must not be handled with unwashed “common” or “unclean” hands, so property declared corban may not be used for the mundane purpose of providing for the needs of an aging parent. While the precise legal consequences and the manner of declaring something corban remain obscure, the point Jesus makes is clear. Here, too, tradition is intended to serve God’s people in honoring the great commandment to love God and love the neighbor as one’s self. When tradition is used to circumvent the requirement of the divine command, it is abused. So, too, a literal application of the law that violates its spirit is just as evil as outright disobedience.

Jesus goes on to discuss what makes a person unclean. Clearly, it is not what goes into a person, but what comes out. This theme will be repeated in the story of the Syrophoenician woman whose daughter Jesus heals in next week’s gospel lesson.

Sunday, August 23rd

THIRTEENTH SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST

Joshua 24:1-2a, 14-18
Psalm 34:15-22
Ephesians 6:10-20
John 6:56-69

PRAYER OF THE DAY: Holy God, your word feeds your people with life that is eternal. Direct our choices and preserve us in your truth, that, renouncing what is false and evil, we may live in you, through your Son, Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord.

I have never spent more than a few days on a farm and then only as a small child. But in recent years I have gotten to know a few farmers. My conversations with them have given me a glimpse or two into what farming is like. One thing I know is that, for farmers, death is not an abstraction. Turkeys are butchered. Hogs are slaughtered. The sight, sound and smell of death permeates life on the farm. Farmers come in from work with death on their clothing, death on their hands and death under their fingernails. They cannot escape being conscious all the time of what urban folk like me conveniently forget: that the pound of hamburger, the package of drumsticks, the strip steaks and the pork chops we buy at Shop Rite were once living, breathing animals that somebody had to kill. Even those of us who are vegetarians cut down, uproot and devour what was once alive. In order for us to live, something else has to die.

So maybe it should not surprise us overly much to hear Jesus telling his disciples that their lives depend on eating his flesh and drinking his blood. Eternal life is costly. Making it available to the likes of you and me required the death of God’s Son. Having it requires internalizing Jesus which, in turn, puts us in the path of martyrdom. Paul urged the disciples in Rome to present their bodies “as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God.” Romans 12:1. For a people whose Lord’s body was nailed to a cross, these words could not have been understood metaphorically. Rome knew well how to disfigure, torture, violate and kill human bodies. The disciples knew that imitating their Lord might well lead them into the gaping jaws of that empire. Yet such is the cost (and the privilege) of living eternally in a culture of death.

To be a disciple of Jesus is to know that you have the blood of the Lord on our hands. It is to know that you must answer “yes” to the question propounded in the old spiritual: “Where you there when they crucified my Lord?” To believe in Jesus is to understand that he died because he entrusted himself to us-and we murdered him. Yet, as it turns out, Jesus was not just another victim of injustice. Rather, he is God’s way of exposing injustice and God’s means of overcoming that injustice with God’s more infinitely powerful capacity to forgive. In the cross, we are shown to be the true victims-victims of or our own distrustful, vindictive and violent ways. We are finally saved from the whirlpool of our hate by a love that outlasts it.

This is a hard word for all who would like to believe that there really is nothing wrong with us; that the answers lie in enacting the right legislation, electing the right candidates to office or funding the right programs. It is a hard word for all who imagine that a tepid “spirituality” promising tranquility, lower blood pressure and a happier existence is a suitable substitute for living among recovering sinners seeking freedom from the addictive bondage of selfishness. Jesus’ words are hard for rugged individuals who imagine that they can truly pull themselves up by their own boot straps to a life that is eternal. Today’s gospel is bad news for mega-church leaders who fill auditoriums by preaching a happy clappy religion and imagine that they are fulfilling Jesus’ commission to make disciples. But as Peter rightly recognized, these words of Jesus, hard as they are, are the words of eternal life.

Joshua 24:1-2a, 14-18

The Book of Joshua tells the story of the Israelites’ entry into the Promised Land after forty years of wandering in the wilderness. Joshua, the successor to Moses, led the Israelites into Canaan where they conquered the Canaanites and redistributed the land among their own twelve tribes. The book ends with a covenant ceremony in which the people of Israel vow in the presence of Joshua and their God to forsake all other gods and “serve the Lord.” Vs. 18 That is where our reading for this Sunday fits in.

A cursory reading of the Book of Joshua could lead one to believe that Israel had, under Joshua’s leadership, thoroughly exterminated the Canaanite population from the Promised Land. A closer reading reveals, however, that the Canaanite influence remained after Israel’s entry into the land. Vs. 15. Though no longer a military threat, the Canaanite agricultural society and its underlying religion posed an even greater danger to Israel’s existence. As Israel began its transition from a tribal nomadic society to a settled farming community, a significant theological question arose: could this God who successfully led Israel out of Egypt, across the desert and into Canaan now also provide rain, protection from insect pests and other favorable conditions required for growing staple crops? Or should Israel turn to the various gods and goddesses of the Canaanites who specialize in agriculture? The choice was not as clear cut as might appear to us moderns. For ancient peoples, there was no distinguishing between the role of religion and practice when it came to planting, cultivating and harvesting. It was nearly impossible for Israel to absorb Canaanite farming methods apart from Canaanite religion. Participation in the cultic worship of the fertility goddess, Ashroth, was no less critical than fertilizing your field with manure.

We read in verse 1 that the people “took their stand before God.” The phrase recalls the seminal moment when Israel first stood before Sinai where she made her covenant with God. Exodus 19:17. The story thereby emphasizes that this covenant is not a “new” commandment, but the renewal of the covenant made before Moses at Sinai.

Shechem, the site of this covenant ceremony, is located about forty miles north of Jerusalem. It later became the first capital of the Northern Kingdom of Israel. Some commentators see in this location the author’s/editor’s hope that this city and other territories of the Northern Kingdom destroyed by Assyria in 722 B.C.E. might be recovered by the Southern Kingdom of Judah. This hope may, in part, have inspired Hezekiah’s failed revolt against Assyria in 701 B.C.E. The northern territories were, in fact, successfully (albeit briefly) recovered by King Josiah who reigned over Judah between 640 B.C.E.-609 B.C.E. It is also possible that this text reflects a post-exilic context given Joshua’s near certainty that Israel will fail to fulfill her vow to serve the Lord only. See Fox, Everett, The Early Prophets, The Schocken Bible: Volume II (c. 2014 by Everett Fox) p. 118.

“Beyond the River” (Vs. 14) is a reference to the Euphrates and could denote either Mesopotamia or Harran, both points along Abram’s journey to Canaan. Genesis 11:31-32; Genesis 12:1-6. The point here is that the demand to abandon worship of gods other than Israel’s God is grounded in the call to the patriarchs and matriarchs. It is evident that idol worship was as much a temptation for them as for Israel. They, too, needed to be reminded to abandon their false gods. See, e.g. Genesis 35:1-4.

If you read one verse further, you will discover that Joshua is well aware of the new danger facing Israel. He is skeptical of his fellow countrymen’s ability to meet the challenge of living as God’s covenant people in the land which God has given them. Vs. 19. He can see all too well how easily the lessons learned in the wilderness, where God fed Israel each day her daily bread, could be lost now that Israel had inherited a good land capable of sustaining her. He understood how persuasive would be the appeal of Canaanite religion to a people desperate to ensure a good harvest. In time, the saving acts of God, so fresh in the minds of Joshua’s generation, might seem “irrelevant” to the generations yet to come.

Memory seems to be a key factor here. Still fresh in Israel’s memory are the saving acts of God that liberated her from slavery in Egypt and God’s provision for all of her needs as she traveled through the wilderness. Vss. 16-17. Perhaps that explains why “Israel served the Lord all the days of Joshua; and all the days of the elders who outlived Joshua and had known all the work which the Lord did for Israel.” Joshua 24:31.  But when memory fades, so does faithfulness. Something is lost when events pass out of living memory. It takes deliberate effort for subsequent generations to own and appropriate the lived experiences of the past. That is why Israel built into her planting, cultivating and harvesting celebrations recitals of God’s saving acts toward the patriarchs and matriarchs, toward their enslaved descendants and toward the wandering clans as they made their way to the Promised Land. It was critical that Israel’s heart be shaped by memories of God’s faithfulness to her if she was to resist the allure of Canaanite religion and culture.

Times of transition often wreak havoc upon one’s faith. Statistics demonstrate that, of those persons who leave the church, a significant number is made up of people who have moved from one community to another. Moving is a stressful and demanding process. So is the process of finding a new church home. Many reasons are given by people who have moved for neglecting worship. Lack of time and energy is one factor. Getting settled into a new home is a chore in itself. Finding a good pediatrician for the kids and getting them registered for school takes time. Changing your driver’s license, auto registration, voting registration and opening bank accounts all take their toll. Looking for a job in a new community is a full time job in itself. All of this is taxing on the psyche. For those who have made an effort to find a church, many are disappointed because the churches they visit seem less than friendly, or don’t have the programs they are looking for or “just aren’t the same as our old church.” Whatever the reasons, often the first thing people shed when they settle into a new community is their faith. So Joshua was justified in his concern that, with all the demands of settling the land of Canaan, worship of the faithful God Israel had come to know in the wilderness might fall to the bottom of the priority list.

In some respects, each new day is another entry into the Promised Land. One never knows what any given day will bring, but we believe that “it is the day the Lord has made.” Psalm 118:24. There are always the routine and anticipated aspects of the day. Sometimes it seems as though that is all there is. Yet even in the most ordinary humdrum day there usually is some element of the unexpected: the card from that friend you have not heard from in years; the call from your child’s teacher suggesting a conference; the guy in the smelly sweatshirt that approaches you asking for money as you are coming out of the grocery store. These circumstances often present us with the same choice Joshua presented to the children of Israel as they prepared to settle into Canaan: will you serve the Lord your God or some other “god”? If we are attentive, we can hear Joshua’s voice throughout our day asking us, “Choose this day whom you will serve.” Vs. 15.

Psalm 34:15-22

The psalm for Sunday is the third and last section of Psalm 34, which we have been reading for the last two weeks. My comments on the content, style and form of this psalm are found in my post for Sunday, August 9, 2015 and my post for Sunday, August 16, 2015. I would only add as a point of interest that verse 20 is prominently cited in the Gospel of John.

“Since it was the day of Preparation, the Jews did not want the bodies left on the cross during the sabbath, especially because that sabbath was a day of great solemnity. So they asked Pilate to have the legs of the crucified men broken and the bodies removed. Then the soldiers came and broke the legs of the first and of the other who had been crucified with him. But when they came to Jesus and saw that he was already dead, they did not break his legs. Instead, one of the soldiers pierced his side with a spear, and at once blood and water came out. (He who saw this has testified so that you also may believe. His testimony is true, and he knows that he tells the truth.) These things occurred so that the scripture might be fulfilled, ‘None of his bones shall be broken.’ And again another passage of scripture says, ‘They will look on the one whom they have pierced.’”

John 19:31-37.  For further perspective on this psalm, you might want to read the commentary of Henry Langknecht, Professor of Homiletics at Trinity Seminary in Columbus, Ohio. This can be found at Workingpreacher.org.

Ephesians 6:10-20

In this remarkable passage Paul encourages us to “be strong in the Lord and in the strength of his might.” Vs. 10. He then proceeds to turn everything we think we know about strength on its head. “For we are not contending against flesh and blood” says Paul. Vs. 12.  But there are many forces in our culture telling us that our struggle is against flesh and blood. It is against liberals and socialists; against conservatives and right wingers; it is against illegal immigrants; it is against terrorists and criminals. The devil is constantly trying to convince us through a huge array of ideologies that the world can neatly be divided into good people and evil people. As long as you are on the side of good, it is acceptable to employ violence to achieve justice and defend “our” way of life whoever “we” may be. The devil would have us believe that “God is on our side” and that he, the devil, is on the side of our enemies. Of course, the devil does not take sides in human conflict. He has no stake in who controls the world or which nation triumphs over all others. As long as people are hating and killing each other, it matters not who “wins.” As far as the devil is concerned, wherever there is war he is the winner.

Saint Paul recognizes, however, that our real fight is “against the principalities, against the powers, against the world rulers of this present darkness, against spiritual hosts of wickedness in the heavenly places.” Vs. 12. In truth, the line between good and evil does not run along national, racial, religious or ethnic lines. The line between good and evil runs through the middle of every human heart and that is where we need to begin engaging it. We are urged to put on “the whole armor of God.” Vs. 11. Paul then uses a host of extremely militaristic images of armor and weaponry to describe the spiritual resources given to the church for its struggle against evil. Vss. 14-17. This remarkable contrast is designed to emphasize the gentle means by which God overcomes the powers of wickedness that know only violence and coercion. The only body armor the disciple of Jesus has is truth, righteousness and peace. The only shield a disciple has to withstand the violent forces of evil is faith in God’s promises. The only protection from a mortal head wound is the salvation wrought in Jesus Christ. This is the armor with which disciples of Jesus were called upon to meet the brutality of a hostile empire with armies, weapons and torture implements at its disposal. The only offensive weapons disciples of Jesus have are prayer and the Holy Spirit. Vs. 18.

So where are the principalities and powers, the hosts of wickedness in the heavenly places today? I suggest that many of them are found in the same places they were dwelling in the days of the New Testament church. They are found in the machinery of empire, the jealous sovereignty of nation states insisting that their own national interests trump global concerns for the wellbeing of all. When the “world rulers of this present age” insist that we must kill our neighbors in direct contradiction to Jesus’ call to love even our enemies and to resist not one who is evil, then we should be hearing the voice of Joshua from our Old Testament lesson crying out, “Choose this day who you will serve.” For too long, I believe, the church has sided with the principalities and powers in exchange for public support and respectability. For too long churches have confused the interests of the Kingdom of God with the interests of whichever nation they happen to reside in. The cry of “God and country” has too often muffled Joshua’s cry of either/or.

I also believe that the principalities and powers often worm their way into the life of the church. A church that values doing worship “right” over worshiping Jesus well has succumbed to the powers. A church that values maintaining its traditions over welcoming its community and allowing the Spirit to transform it has come under the influence of the principalities. A church that values survival over mission is a church that is run by the rulers of this present age. A church that values its reputation over faithful witness to the scandalous and controversial good news about Jesus Christ is a church that has lost its armor and has become fearful of taking a stand for its Lord.

Thanks be to God that in Jesus Christ we are well armed. The power of truthful speech unmasks the powers of evil urging us toward violence and hate. The good news of God’s reconciliation in Christ gives us all the ammunition we need to wage peace. Righteousness and integrity guard us from temptation, threats and intimidation. Faith, the conviction that God has already accomplished all things needful for the salvation of the world in Jesus Christ, gives us courage to endure the seeming failure of our own faithful efforts. We know that Christ promises to complete what we can only begin. Finally, through prayer and the work of God’s Spirit within us we exercise the very power that raised Jesus from death. No more potent weapon exists or is needed for the advance of God’s Kingdom.

John 6:56-69

Last week it was the crowd and Jesus’ critics who mumbled and complained because Jesus said in very graphic terms that he was the bread of life and that having life meant eating his flesh and drinking his blood. This week it is Jesus’ own disciples who are doing the complaining. Many of them, after hearing these words from Jesus, no longer followed him. vs. 66. But I have to ask, were they ever really following him to begin with? These disciples may have cheered as Jesus cleansed the Temple and rid it of corruption and commercialism. They were thrilled to receive their fill of bread in the wilderness. If this is what Jesus is doing, what’s not to like? Now, however, Jesus offers them more. He offers them his very self. But these disciples do not want anything more. They do not want Jesus. They want all the good things they think Jesus can give them. They want to be disciples of Jesus, but on their own terms. To internalize Jesus, to be sustained by him alone and to be transformed by Jesus is more than what they bargained for. They wanted Jesus to transform their unhappy circumstances, but they had no intention of letting him change them. These disciples were prepared to be admirers of Jesus, supporters of Jesus and even followers of Jesus-up to a point. But when Jesus makes it clear to them that salvation lies precisely in going beyond that point, they want nothing further to do with him.

Let’s be clear. It is not that Jesus is demanding a higher morality, a higher level of devotion or a higher level of spiritual awareness from his disciples. Jesus has already said that the only work God requires is that we trust in him. Trusting Jesus means believing Jesus when he tells us that what he has to give us is what we truly need. Jesus offers to abide in us. Abiding in Jesus means being absorbed into Jesus, transformed into the likeness of Jesus and drawn into the mission of Jesus. We don’t accomplish that on our own. Jesus offers it to us as a gift. But therein is the rub: too often we just don’t want this gift. We don’t want to internalize Jesus. We want Jesus at a distance. We want him to be there as a shoulder to cry on, a gentle presence to give us peace, a savior who is there in times of trouble, but decent enough to stay out of our way when times are good. We want a Jesus who will defend our homes and protect our soldiers, but not the Jesus who prepares a table for us in the presence of our enemies and then calls upon us to invite those enemies to the feast. We want a Jesus who will change our unpleasant circumstances, but not a Jesus who wants to change our hearts and minds. As the Gospel of John has already indicated: “this is the judgment, that the light has come into the world, and men loved darkness rather than light because their deeds were evil.”  John 3:19.

Jesus lost some disciples that day and he seems not to have been too worried about it. There are some kinds of followers Jesus does not need. Among them are those who are tagging along only for what they can get out of discipleship. There is a great deal of concern expressed these days about the decline in church membership among protestant denominations such my own Evangelical Lutheran Church in America (ELCA). Some folks are blaming the national church for its stances on controversial subjects. Others blame the synods for their lack of leadership. Many blame pastors for failing to speak effectively to the younger generations. We pastors, for our part, point the finger at our congregations for their lack of commitment and support. That is all counterproductive. Fixing blame for the sinking of the Titanic would not have kept it from going down and certainly will not bring it back up from the bottom of the sea. Moreover, I am beginning to wonder whether anyone is to blame or whether anything blameworthy is being done. Maybe the membership of the church is shrinking because its capacity for true discipleship is growing. Maybe we are driving people out of the church precisely because more of us are internalizing Jesus. When a church takes seriously its duty to show hospitality to the stranger regardless of the stranger’s legal status; when the church opens its doors to people who dirty its carpets, disrupt the flow of its worship and tarnish its reputation, very often long time members respond as did many of Jesus disciples in our Gospel lesson: “This is a hard saying; who can listen to it?” Vs. vs. 60.

These days I am hearing an ever more urgent call for some strategy, some new change of direction, some marketing ploy that will “turn the church around.” If by that we mean turning away from sin and turning toward Jesus and the new life he offers, then I am all for it. But if “turning the church around,” means only that we grow our membership by whatever means available and increase our income so that we can preserve our denominational institutions, I am not sure I want in on that. Maybe Jesus does not need a church that owns real estate in every town. Maybe Jesus does not need a guild of professional clergy represented in every congregation. Maybe Jesus does not need bishops who travel the world to address heads of state and numerous programs addressing every conceivable human need. Maybe all Jesus needs is a little band of sheep that hear his call and follow him. Perhaps a poor, small, broken church living faithfully at the margins with no social influence or political power is a more faithful witness to the resurrected Christ than a large, thriving corporate church. It may be that we are not dying, but only getting pruned. (See John 15:1-2). I don’t pretend to know God’s grand plan for the church in the twenty-first century. I do not even know what God’s plans are for the ELCA of which I am a part. I am convinced, however, that we need to be open to the possibility that our view of what our church needs might be vastly different from what God is doing with us. We may fear that we are getting too small, but from God’s perspective we may still be too big.

In sum, following Jesus is no sure way to success, institutional or otherwise. But then again, “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life.” Vs. 68. That alone is why we follow Jesus. Jesus knows what matters eternally and tells us in no uncertain terms that we matter eternally to him. Jesus loves us too much to let us waste our lives pursuing bread that cannot feed us, chasing success in projects that don’t matter and satisfaction in pleasures that do not last.

Sunday, August 2nd

TENTH SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST

Exodus 16:2-4, 9-15
Psalm 78:23-29
Ephesians 4:1-16
John 6:24-35

PRAYER OF THE DAY: O God, eternal goodness, immeasurable love, you place your gifts before us; we eat and are satisfied. Fill us and this world in all its need with the life that comes only from you, through Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord.

John’s gospel doesn’t spoon feed us the good news. Instead, we are given signs, metaphors, images and symbols that don’t always fit neatly together into a coherent whole. Reading this gospel is hard work. This week’s lesson tells us that Jesus is the “bread come down from heaven.” Unlike ordinary bread, it is not obtained by human labor. It is a free gift. The “work” God requires of us is to believe in Jesus. But is that really “work”? The language Jesus is using here does not set well with my Lutheran upbringing. From Sunday School through seminary I have been taught never to mention “faith” and “works” in the same breath. Yet Jesus seems to be doing just that. He is telling us that the bread which comes down from heaven is more than a simple handout. Receiving it gratefully is the work God requires of us.

Perhaps it is best to think of the bread from heaven as a precious gift that nevertheless demands much. It is not simply a cash gift that can be spent in any way the recipient pleases. Receiving the bread from heaven is more like being given a very fine violin. As a gift, it is obviously free. Yet such a gift clearly demands much of the recipient. If a violin is going to be of any use to me, I must learn to play it. Unless I happen to be one of those rare musical prodigies capable of picking up an instrument cold and making music, I will probably need years of instruction and hours upon hours of practice before I am merely proficient. If I want to become more than proficient, if I want to become a performance level violinist, I am looking at a lifetime commitment that will require much sacrifice and dedication to the instrument.

It is not surprising to me that relatively few people become accomplished musicians. Though I am not a musician myself, I have them in my family and among my friends. They know how much time goes into learning scales, practicing arpeggios and learning to read music-all of which comes before you can begin making music. They know the frustration of being stuck at a plateau in development beyond which it seems impossible to advance. They also know that every advance must be maintained by relentless practice. There is no such thing as a vacation from the instrument. Nevertheless, they tell me that making music is their greatest joy.

I believe the gift that is Jesus is a little like that. God offers us through him a restored relationship, friendship with God’s self. Friendship is not built over night. It takes time. Friendship requires a lot of energy, forgiveness, growth and patience. Friendship changes you in ways you cannot predict. Friendship is risky. You can never know the price you might have to pay for loyalty, faithfulness and love for your friend. Jesus called his disciples friends. John 15:14-15. That is a marvelous gift that demands much of us. Perhaps that is what Paul means when he urges us to “lead a life worthy of the calling to which you have been called.” Ephesians 4:1. Maybe that is just another way of telling us to live fully and completely out of our friendship with Jesus. There is no other way to receive such a free, precious and wildly extravagant gift.

Exodus 16:2-4, 9-15

Less than two months into their new found freedom brought about by God’s marvelous, liberating miracle at the Red Sea, Israel is in a deep funk. The people are learning that freedom is in many respects more difficult than slavery. The slave knows that the master will feed him/her for no other reason than that a slave must eat to live and live to work. A slave has few weighty decisions to make. The master makes all the decisions. A slave does not have to wonder about what tomorrow will bring. The following day brings more of the same. Cruel, burdensome and oppressive, to be sure, but at least it is predictable. By contrast, the wilderness (and freedom) is highly unpredictable. You can’t assume that you are going to find enough water to sustain your community ten miles down the road. No master will be there to give you your rations. In the wilderness, you have no choice but to place your trust in the God who brought you there.

The people of Israel were hungry. As we all know, hunger can bring out the worst in us. Such was the case for Israel. It seems the people caught a bad case of “good old days” disease. They began reminiscing about the days back in Egypt where at least they had food. “Would that we had died by the hand of the Lord in Egypt, when we sat by the fleshpots and ate bread to the full,” they complain. Vs. 3. I doubt that, as slaves, they really were that well fed. But that is how it is when you look back at the past through rose colored glasses. Everything was better back then. The church was so full we had to set up chairs in the aisles to accommodate everyone. The Sunday School was filled with kids-and they behaved themselves better and had more respect than kids these days. Neighborhoods were friendlier. City streets were safer. Food tasted better. On and on it goes. Was the past really all that wonderful? Of course not! The Israelites were slaves. Had they forgotten so soon what it was like to be treated like cattle? Evidently, they had forgotten and that should not surprise us overly much. Good old days disease is as much a part of our age as it was in Biblical times. As Barbra Streisand sang in the movie, The Way We Were,

Memories, may be beautiful and yet
What’s too painful to remember
We simply choose to forget

That is the problem with the “good old days.” Our selective memories make the past seem a lot rosier than it really was. We fall into the trap of measuring the present against a past that is no more real than the Emerald City of Oz.

Furthermore, “good old days” disease represents more than just delusional thinking. It constitutes rebellion against our God. “This is the day which the Lord has made,” says the Psalm. “Let us rejoice and be glad in it.” Psalm 118:24. Who are we to throw the gift of today back in God’s face and tell God it isn’t good enough? Who are we to reject the time and place where God now places us and sit pouting because our memories of some other time and place seem better? God calls us to a new day. Our stubborn insistence on remaining in the old one needs to be named for what it is: sin.

That said, the journey from slavery into freedom is long and difficult. The people of Israel spent forty years in the wilderness on the way to Canaan. The way was slow and fraught with dangers. Sometimes it seemed as though they were not making any progress. Sometimes they appeared to be going nowhere. Often it seemed that they were losing ground. The life of discipleship to which Jesus calls us is no different. Perhaps that is why Paul and other New Testament writers employed the stories of Israel’s wilderness wandering as metaphors for that life. It is hard to believe that Jesus is leading us into a new creation when our bodies increasingly show their age, our energy level isn’t what it used to be and it seems as though the best years of our lives are behind us. It is hard to believe that Jesus is leading his church for the sake of the world when that church looks increasingly fractured, divided and marginalized. It is precisely when the going gets rough, when we see no evidence of progress and there seems to be no end in sight that the temptation to look back is strongest. But the scriptures warn repeatedly that there is nothing for us in the past and that the only way given to us is forward.

Of course, the good news here is that God can be trusted to provide for our needs along the way. Our needs may not be the same as our wants. Perhaps quail is not what Israel would have chosen from a more varied menu. The manna may have been sweet as honey, but even the bread of angels can become tiresome after forty years. Yet it was enough to sustain Israel throughout her journey and that is what Jesus promises as well. As the gospel for this Sunday points out, Jesus is our “bread from heaven” that sustains us.

Psalm 78:23-29

Our psalm for this Sunday is but a snippet from a much longer saga reciting Israel’s history from the Exodus to the rise of King David. As always, I encourage you to read Psalm 78 in its entirety.

This is one of the historical psalms in the psalter. It is similar in form and structure to Psalm 105 and Psalm 106 of the same genre. Historical psalms were employed by Israel chiefly in her commemorative celebrations, i.e., Passover, Day of Atonement, Feast of Booths, etc. They celebrate the acts pivotal to Israel’s self-understanding. Accordingly, the historical psalms also serve a didactic (teaching) purpose. In learning these psalms, each new generation internalized the great acts through which God displayed salvation to Israel and made her the unique nation she was.

The faith of Israel was unique in the ancient near east. The Egyptians, Assyrians, Babylonians, Phoenicians and Israel’s Canaanite neighbors saw the power of the divine chiefly in the realm of nature. Thus, their religion was built around the natural cycles of birth and death, seedtime and harvest, summer and winter. Their worship revolved around mythical themes of creation, the interaction of the gods behind the cosmic forces of death and life at work in the change of seasons. By contrast, Israel experienced the salvation of her God through God’s mighty acts in her history. Though Israel also recognized the cyclical processes of nature critical to agricultural existence, her worship gave meaning to these cycles through recitation of historical events taking place not in some distant mythical past, but in the realm of human events. Israel celebrated her deliverance from Egypt, the conquest of the land of Canaan, the establishment of the royal house of David and the dedication of the Temple in Jerusalem. Her worship and world view were anchored in these historical watersheds rather than in cosmic battles between the gods at the dawn of time.

The section of this lengthy psalm constituting our reading echoes in poetic form the lesson from Exodus. The story is not all sweetness and light as one might suppose from reading only the verses given us by the lectionary. Verses 17-22 point out that the gracious outpouring of mana and quail comes in spite of some serious provocation:

Yet they sinned still more against him,
rebelling against the Most High in the desert.
They tested God in their heart
by demanding the food they craved.
They spoke against God, saying,
‘Can God spread a table in the wilderness?
Even though he struck the rock so that water gushed out
and torrents overflowed, can he also give bread,
or provide meat for his people?’

Furthermore, God’s carrot is accompanied by a stick:

But before they had satisfied their craving,
while the food was still in their mouths,
the anger of God rose against them
and he killed the strongest of them,
and laid low the flower of Israel.

Vss. 30-31. Once again, the lectionary folks are doing their best to spare our left leaning, mainline protestant, upper middle class, ever white and ever polite sensibilities by excising all references suggesting that God might be something other than the gray-bearded slightly senile, over-indulgent grandfather that can be inoffensively slipped into our cultural landscape without disrupting the architectural skyline. Obviously, there is a serious disconnect between the God of the scriptures and the inoffensive god we would like to believe in who, like elevator music, fills in the uncomfortable silences but otherwise remains in the background. No wonder church attendance in mainline denominations is in decline. In fact, it is a wonder that anyone still comes! Just as nobody would waste time and money for a concert performance of background music pipped in over a third rate sound system, it is hard to imagine how anyone could become the least bit interested in such a boring god.

The psalm makes the point that God’s love for Israel (and the church, too, for that matter) is not a philosophical disposition shorn of all passion and feeling. The God of Israel’s love is passionate, jealous and intense. Anyone who has ever been in love knows how close anger lies at hand. Nobody can hurt us as deeply as those we love. God’s anger against us is the measure of God’s love for us. The sad reality is that God’s acts of mercy and kindness are too quickly forgotten. Too often we approach God with a sense of entitlement rather than gratitude and trust. Our demands take precedence over God’s commands. Our prayers resemble letters to Santa Clause, filled with our own self-centered demands. Yet God’s passionate love for us never grows cold. Even God’s judgment is designed to melt our cold hearts and re-ignite our trust. This psalm “makes evident how closely God’s grace and his judgment are related to each other.” Weiser, Artur, The Psalms, The Old Testament Commentary (c. 1962 S.C.M. Press, Ltd.) p. 541.

The historical recitation in Psalm 78 culminates with God’s selection of David as Israel’s king.

[God] chose his servant David,
and took him from the sheepfolds;
from tending the nursing ewes
he brought him to be the shepherd of his people Jacob,
of Israel, his inheritance.
With upright heart he tended them,
and guided them with skillful hand.

The rise of the monarchy in Israel was surrounded by controversy. The prophet and judge, Samuel, was appalled when the people demanded appointment of a king to rule over them so that they might “be like the other nations.” I Samuel 8:4-5. After all, God called Israel to be unlike the other nations. In a culture that regarded kings as equal to gods, only the Lord was worthy of the title “king.” Much of the prophetic tradition in Israel remained critical of the monarchy and saw it as a betrayal of all that Israel was called to be. Nevertheless, there is also in the Hebrew Scriptures an express belief that God’s covenant with David and the rise of his Kingdom was a saving event to be celebrated with thanksgiving. Psalm 78 is an example of this pro-monarchy sentiment.

We saw an echo of this pro-monarchy enthusiasm in last Sunday’s gospel when the crowd of five thousand, having eaten their fill of the loaves and fishes Jesus blessed, sought to take him and make him king by force. Clearly, Jesus must be the one sent by God to shepherd his people Israel. Had he not, as the psalm says, “rained down on them manna to eat, and gave them the grain of heaven”? Vs. 24. Yet Jesus seems intent on not becoming a king like David-or at least the kind of king the people were seeking. That becomes clear as Jesus speaks in this Sunday’s gospel about the true bread from heaven he has come to offer.

Ephesians 4:1-16

For my general comments on the Letter to the Ephesians, see my post of Sunday, July 12, 2015. At this point in the letter, Paul turns to a description of what life in Christ looks like. The remarkable thing about this text describing life in the church is the total lack of hierarchy. In virtually every other organization, be it social, political or religious, the key question always comes down to “Who is in charge?” In the Body of Christ, however, the key issue is “What is your gift?” “There is one Lord, one faith, one baptism and one God and Father of us all.” Vs. 5. Though the church is made up of individual members, each has his or her own “gift.” The gifts, however they may differ from one another, have one purpose: “to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace.” Vs. 3.

Much scholarly debate has swirled around the enumeration of these gifts in verse 11. Some interpreters maintain that the apostles, evangelists, teachers and pastors represent offices in the church. Others maintain that these reflect natural gifts recognized by the community and exercised by individuals in non-structured communities. Lincoln, Andrew T., Ephesians, Word Biblical Commentary (c. 1990 by Word Incorporated) p. 233; Fischer, K.M., Tendenz und Absicht des Ephersbriefs, (c. 1973 by Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht) pp. 21-39. Whichever the case may be, it is clear that the gifts are not intended to enhance the recipient, but to strengthen the unity of the church. Vss. 15-16. So what matters is not who has which gift, but how the gift is used. A pastor that pushes through an educational program that interests him or her, but does not meet the needs of the church is not rightly exercising the gift of ministry. A council officer that manages to get a new addition to the church building erected, but in doing so causes dissent and division throughout the congregation might be improving upon the structure of a building, but he or she is not “building up the Body of Christ.” Vs. 12. That does not mean, of course, that we all walk on egg shells and do nothing for fear of offending anyone. Sometimes uncomfortable truths need to be spoken. Often the mission of the church must take precedent over deeply valued traditions in the congregation. Correction and reproof is part and parcel of living together in love. The church will necessarily deal with divisive and controversial topics. But unlike the rest of the world where the most powerful personality prevails and issues are often settled by a simple up or down vote, we are a community determined to take whatever time is needed to arrive at a resolution and course of action that everyone can live with-even if it means sacrificing “progress.” Getting together is more important than getting ahead. For that sort of living, we need a lot of lowliness, forbearance, patience and meekness. Vs. 2.

More than any other epistle in the Pauline corpus, Ephesians highlights the cosmic purpose of the church as a sign of God’s intent to unite not merely Jews and Gentiles, but “to fill all things” with Christ. Vs. 10. “God gives Christ as head over all to the Church and it becomes his instrument in carrying out his purpose for the cosmos. The readers are to see themselves as part of this Church which has a universal role and which is to be a pledge of the universe’s ultimate unity in Christ.” Lincoln, supra at 248. In a religious landscape increasingly dominated by “personal salvation,” individual pseudo-psychological “self-help” and individual “spirituality,” Ephesians sounds a countercultural call to lose the self in a corporate life of discipleship that isn’t all about “me.” The church’s calling is to continue corporately the life Jesus lives in the world, embracing all of the hostility such life invariably provokes.

John 6:24-35

As you may recall from last week’s gospel, Jesus had to withdraw from the crowd of five thousand he had just fed as they were seeking to take him by force and make him king. The disciples set out for the other side of the Sea of Galilee that same evening. Jesus later rejoined them in their boat on the Sea and they arrived in Capernaum. Some of the five thousand pursued Jesus and found him there on the other side of the Sea. Now they are curious as to how Jesus was able to get himself across the sea without a boat, but Jesus cuts right to the chase. “You are here because you ate your fill. Not because you saw signs.” Vs. 26. Of course, the people had, in fact, seen a remarkable sign. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that they witnessed a miracle only. They do not understand that the feeding was a sign; that the drama unfolding in the wilderness of Galilee was intended to reflect the wilderness of Sinai where the children of Israel wandered for forty years depending on the Lord for each day’s sustenance. The fact that they demand from Jesus a sign as proof of his claims demonstrates how thoroughly they have missed the meaning of what they experienced in the wilderness. They were looking for a way out of the wilderness to restored national power and prosperity. Jesus offers them a restored relationship with the Lord who promises to give them abundant life in the midst of the wilderness. That is the true bread that comes down from heaven.

It is obvious that the crowed has misunderstood the story related in our first lesson from the Book of Exodus. The people credit Moses with providing their ancestors with bread in the wilderness and they hope that Jesus will do the same. But Jesus points out that it was not Moses, but the Lord who provided for the children of Israel. Faith in Moses or any other human leader is misplaced. Furthermore, fixation on things like bread that ensure mere survival is insufficient. One does not live by bread alone. Life that is abundant and eternal flows from a vital relationship of trust in the God who alone can give us such life.

So what is this “bread” that comes down from heaven? It is Jesus, plain and simple. There is no “work” demanded by God as a price for this bread. It has already been freely given and now stands in the questioners’ very presence. The “work,” such that it is, amounts simply to “believing in the one God sent.” Vs. 29. Belief, of course, is not mere ascent to a theological proposition. To believe in Jesus is to trust Jesus; to live out of a relationship of faith in his promises. But this is God’s work, not our own. God wins our trust and strengthens our faith by consistently demonstrating his own faithfulness to us.

This is one of many instances throughout John’s gospel in which Jesus uses the “I am” construction (in Greek, “Ego eimie”). This “I am” of Jesus echoes the “I am” spoken to Moses in response to his inquiry about God’s name. God replies “I am that I am” or, as some translators put it, “I will be who I will be.” Exodus 3:13-15. This statement is less an ontological assertion about God than it is a declaration that God demonstrates who God is by God’s acts of faithfulness to the covenant with Israel as shown by what follows immediately thereafter. God instructs Moses: “Go and assemble the elders of Israel, and say to them, ‘The Lord, the God of your ancestors, the God of Abraham, of Isaac, and of Jacob, has appeared to me, saying: I have given heed to you and to what has been done to you in Egypt. I declare that I will bring you up out of the misery of Egypt, to the land of the Canaanites, the Hittites, the Amorites, the Perizzites, the Hivites, and the Jebusites, a land flowing with milk and honey.’” Exodus 3:16-17. So too, the full significance of the “I am” Jesus pronounces will become clear only when he completes the work his Father has sent him to do. Not until he is “lifted up” will Jesus’ glory as the only Son of the Father be made known. John 12:27-36.

Sunday, June 14th

THIRD SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST

Ezekiel 17:22-24
Psalm 92:1-4, 12-15
2 Corinthians 5:6-17
Mark 4:26-34

PRAYER OF THE DAY: O God, you are the tree of life, offering shelter to all the world. Graft us into yourself and nurture our growth, that we may bear your truth and love to those in need, through Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord.

I know that parents are not supposed to live vicariously through their children, but I have to confess that I do just that. I enjoy the achievements of my daughters in their mastery of biblical and classical languages that far outstrips my own just as if they were, in fact, my own. In a different way, I live vicariously through my son, an evolutionary biologist who took the road I abandoned to enter the ministry. Like him, I spent a good part of my youth schlepping through swamps and tide pools, turning over rocks and logs to find sea cucumbers, salamanders and snakes. Living things fascinated me then and they still do. I can’t look at a body of water without wondering how deep it is, what fish and other aquatic animals inhabit its depths. A part of me has always regretted not having taken the alternative road at the fork. Now I feel that, in some measure, I am privileged to travel both roads.

It was my son who first made me aware of the profound ecological consequences flowing from the introduction of an invasive species into an established ecosystem. For example, at least 25 non-native species of fish have entered the Great Lakes since the 1800s. These newcomers alter the environment, preying on native fish that have no defenses against them, driving them close to extinction. This, in turn, creates a vacuum in the food chain allowing other native fishes and plants to multiply to unsustainable levels. This all sounds like pretty bad news and it is-from the standpoint of the existing ecosystem. But nature has a way of balancing things out. In time, a new ecosystem will evolve. To be sure, it will be different from what now is, but as my son points out, this has been going on for millions of years. Animal species, our own race in particular, tend to migrate given the opportunity. They invade new territory changing it for better or for worse wherever they go.

Jesus uses the example of an invasive species in one of his parables from Sunday’s gospel lesson. Mustard, though it has some practical uses, is not a plant you would want growing in your cultivated field. Once it takes root, it comes to occupy and stay. Like any weed, it is tougher than anything else growing around it, especially the plants you are trying hard to cultivate. Yet Jesus speaks of the coming of God’s kingdom as resembling the sowing of a mustard seed. The kingdom, says Jesus, is like a tenacious weed. Its seeds are so small you cannot even see them. Yet it gives rise to an invasive plant that digs in, takes over and grows big enough give shelter to the birds.

What does it mean to compare God’s kingdom to an invasive plant? How does the coming of God’s reign disrupt the ecology of our predatory economic system? Our power structures infected with racism? The maintenance of privilege for a relative few at the expense of the world’s poor? If this parable doesn’t scare the socks off us, then I think we must not yet have ears to hear it. Make no mistake about it, the parable of the mustard seed is good news. God has broken into the world through the ministry of Jesus to alter radically the human ecosystem. As the prophet Ezekiel tells us, a lot of big trees must fall in order for the languishing trees to thrive. Or, to put it into Jesus’ words, the last will be first and the first will be last. The end result will be a new heaven and a new earth. But the transition for some of us on the higher end of the food chain will not be easy. In fact, Jesus tells us that those of us who are rich will find entering the kingdom downright hard. Yet we are also told that hard is not impossible. Being last in the kingdom is still being in the kingdom. That is what I hold onto as this parable disrupts my orderly little ecosystem.

Ezekiel 17:22-24

For some background on Ezekiel, see my post of September 7, 2014. You might also check out the Summary Article by Alan Padgett, Professor of Systematic Theology at Luther Seminary, St. Paul, M.N.

You can’t grow a new cedar simply by planting a twig from another cedar. Vs. 22. That is just not biologically possible. Moreover, cedars do not bear edible fruit. Vs. 23. But that only makes more emphatic the work God is doing here. The allegory of the cedar is filled with messianic and eschatological (consummation of the age) imagery. The messiah is frequently spoken of in prophetic literature as a “branch” or “shoot.” See Jeremiah 23:5-6; Zechariah 3:8. The exaltation of Mount Zion is a common prophetic term for the fulfilment of God’s purpose for Israel and the world generally. See Micah 4:1-4; Isaiah 2:1-4; Psalm 87. From a mere twig cut from the tree out of which it draws sustenance, a twig that by all rights is as good as dead, God grows a tree on the highest mountain that will tower over all other trees. Vs. 23. It will give shelter to animals and a home to birds of every kind. Vs. 24. By this great act, “all the trees of the field,” that is, the nations “shall know that I the Lord bring low the high tree, make high the low tree, dry up the green tree, and make the dry tree flourish.” Vs. 24.

The phrase “you shall know that I am the Lord” appears frequently throughout the Book of the Prophet Isaiah. Ezekiel 6:7, 10, 14; Ezekiel 7:4, 9, 27; Ezekiel 12:15; Ezekiel 13:23; Ezekiel 14:8; Ezekiel 17:21. It is important that God and God’s works be made known to Israel. In this passage, however, God is to be made known to all the nations, not merely by name but by action. God is to be known as the one who brings mighty empires to nothing and raises up a people that, to all appearances, appears to be nothing. Echoes here can be heard of the Exodus-God’s liberation of Israel from slavery in Egypt to make of her a nation of promise. In a culture where the greatness of a god is measured by the political and military might of its patron nation, the God of a defeated and exiled people would seem hardly worthy of worship. But God does not belong to Israel only. God is God of all nations, raising them up and disposing of them as best serves God’s redemptive purposes. Moreover, God’s glory is not tied to Israel’s military might or geopolitical influence but to Israel’s faithfulness. This portrait of Israel’s exultation is therefore not comparable to the rise of great empires such as Assyria and Babylonia that dominate and exploit the lesser nations. Israel’s exaltation will be a life giving event for the nations of the world. This will be a different kind of kingdom ruling a different kind of world!

It is always worth asking how disciples of Jesus articulate and live out the prophetic confession of this God who raises and brings down empires for God’s own purposes in a nation that believes itself to have been uniquely selected by God to further God’s purpose through advancing its own national interests. The identification of God’s purpose with that of America, known as “American particularism,” is deeply imbedded in the American protestant psyche. Nowhere is this heretical notion better expressed than in our standard practice of placing the American flag in our sanctuaries, frequently on the same level as the altar and the cross. Sometimes I long for an encyclical from our ELCA presiding bishop condemning this idolatrous practice. I know full well, though, that no such directive will be forthcoming. First, American Lutheran bishops don’t issue encyclicals. Second, such a decree would generate more opposition than an order to shorten the worship service by omitting some of the appointed lessons. The latter is a sad commentary on the spiritual state of the church!

Psalm 92:1-4, 12-15

The superscription, “A Song for the Sabbath,” indicates that this psalm was used in connection with Sabbath observance in later Judaism. According to one commentator, the psalm most likely originated in public worship at a festival at some sanctuary lasting for several days. Weiser, Artur, The Psalms, The Old Testament Library (c. 1962 by S.C.M. Press, Ltd.) p. 614. It is possible that the festival in question was the New Year celebration instituted in Leviticus 23:24-25. Ibid. The strict injunction against work of any kind during this holiday would help to explain its later use for Sabbath worship. The sanctuary in which this liturgy was first used could have been the one at Shiloh referenced in I Samuel or the temple in Jerusalem.

“It is good to give thanks to the Lord.” Vs. 1. That is a simple yet important reminder. To live well is to live thankfully. Thankfulness does not come naturally for most of us. Many of us are stuck in the entitlement mentality, believing that God, the world, our families or our churches “owe us something” and never quite pay up in full. Or we are caught up in the deadly sin of envy that can never recognize God’s gifts to us as anything other than second best to what is given to others who seem to be better off. Of course, in a culture that values accomplishment and achievement, thankfulness is practically an admission that you received something you have not earned or deserved. Why thank God or anybody else for what I earned by the sweat of my own brow?

A thankful worshiper understands quite simply that s/he lives by grace. S/he lives life at a leisurely pace, refusing to be rushed. S/he savors the smell of fresh coffee each morning, the warmth of the sun, the refreshment a spring rain brings to thriving vegetation, the songs of birds and the shouts of children. A thankful worshiper understands that each day of health, strength and vigor is an undeserved gift and that there is no entitlement to the same tomorrow. S/he knows that on the worst day there is still always plenty for which to give thanks and praise.

It is not altogether clear what is meant by a “ten stringed lute” in verse 3. The lute was a medieval predecessor to the guitar, but whether it was anything like the instrument described in the psalm is unknown. Rogerson, J.W. and McKay, J.W., Psalms 51-100, The Cambridge Bible Commentary (c. 1977 by Cambridge University Press) p. 161. That it had “strings” suggests that it was something like a lute, guitar or lyre.

Verses 12-14 are reminiscent of Psalm 1 which speaks of the prosperity that flows from choosing the way of righteousness over wickedness. The fate of those who lack the sense to recognize God’s works and ways is discussed in verses 5-9 which are not included in our reading. For my cautionary remarks on the interpretation of psalms such as these, see my commentary on Psalm 1 in my post for Sunday, May 17, 2015. As always, I encourage you to read Psalm 92 in its entirety.

2 Corinthians 5:6-17

For my general comments on Paul’s Second Letter to the Corinthians, see my post of June 7, 2015.

The most puzzling piece of this passage is Paul’s remark that “while we are at home in the body we are away from the Lord.” Vs. 6. Shorn of its context, this sentence is rife with potential for misinterpretation. Paul is not suggesting that the body is the prison of the soul or that salvation is liberation of the spirit from bodily incarceration. Paul is merely stating a fact. As pointed out earlier in II Corinthians 5:1, “the earthly tent we live in is [being] destroyed.” We are dying as is the creation. Nonetheless, “though our outer nature is wasting away, our inner nature is being renewed every day.” II Corinthians 4:16. So far from separating soul from body, salvation consists in resurrecting the body. Thus, “while we are still in this tent [body], we groan, and long to put on our heavenly dwelling, so that by putting it on we may not be found naked.” II Corinthians 5:3. There is no advantage to being a naked spirit even if such a thing could exist. To be human is to be a body. It is only through the body that we can know each other. We are dependent on speech, hearing and sight. Critical to communication are the subtle tones of voice telling the hearer that, whatever our bear words might convey, we are speaking in jest. Facial expressions, hand gestures, hugs, kisses and so much more can only be conveyed by creatures with bodies. That is precisely why God has always spoken to Israel and the church through the words of Moses, Elijah, the prophets and apostles. That is why in the fullness of time the word became embodied. Jesus’ resurrection was the resurrection of his Body. His ascension to the right hand of the Father did not dispense with that Body but extended its reach to every scrap of matter in the universe. God remains embodied in God’s holy people. It is for this reason only that we can say God is in some measure knowable.

That said, we are in a limited sense imprisoned by our bodies. However much we might think we know another person, there are depths we cannot reach even with our best communication skills. How much more so with our God! Our bodies are imperfect communicators, lacking the ability to “know as we are known.” We cannot know each other or our God perfectly. As Paul says in his first letter to the church in Corinth, “For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall understand fully, even as I have been fully understood.” I Corinthians 13:12. Thus, our hope is not that we shall be liberated from our bodies to become naked spirits, but that “we would be further clothed, so that what is mortal may be swallowed up by life.” II Corinthians 5:4. God is even now working the miracle of this transformation in our bodies giving us manifestations of God’s Spirit within the church as a guarantee of all that is to come. II Corinthians 5:5.

Knowing this, Paul is confident in his ministry. He is well aware that some in the Corinthian Church are critical of his personal appearance and what they judge to be his deficiencies as a public speaker. II Corinthians 10:10. There is also a suggestion that some in the congregation believe Paul to be mentally unstable. Vs. 13. Paul does not waste his breath disputing any of this. “I may stutter, I may be uglier than a baboon’s butt and mad as a hatter,” says Paul (highly paraphrased). “But it’s all for your sake that we do what we do.” Vs. 13. Paul is motivated by the love of Christ who died for all. Knowing that, it is impossible for Paul to view or judge anyone from a purely human perspective. Vs. 16. Paul once judged Jesus from just that perspective, but having encountered him as the one God raised from the dead, Paul cannot view him anymore as just another misguided teacher with some radical notions who came to a bad end. Vs. 16. Neither can Paul view women as subordinates, slaves as mere property or gentiles as unclean. Galatians 3:28. The resurrection is a game changer. Seen through the lens of Jesus’ resurrection, creation is altogether new. Vs. 17.

Sadly, the lectionary moves on next week to chapter 6 of II Corinthians passing over what I believe to be one of the most powerful articulations of the church’s mission to be found in the New Testament, namely, II Corinthians 5:16-21. I invite you to read it and reflect on it as it follows directly from what Paul has just told us in today’s lesson and explains what follows in next week’s reading.

Mark 4:26-34

The first of these two parables of God’s kingdom follows upon the Parable of the Sower told in Mark 4:3-9. This parable is not an allegory, though Jesus later resorts to allegory in order to explain it to his clueless disciples. Mark 4:10-20. The kingdom of God is to be seen in the totality of the circumstances: the sower who spreads his precious seed indiscriminately over soil both receptive and resistant; the varying degrees of response to that sowing and the resulting fruitfulness. Building on the same imagery, the parable of the planting, growth and harvest in verses 26-29 illuminate the kingdom from a different angle. The sower, though powerless to make the seed sprout, grow and mature nevertheless takes an active role in the process. The sower both plants and takes in the harvest. But that is the extent of the sower’s power to act. Growth comes of itself without the sower’s activity. For all that takes place between planting and harvest, the sower can only patiently wait.

So is Jesus intimating that the kingdom may be a long time in coming and that his disciples must sow the seeds of their ministry and wait patiently for growth? (Weiss, J., Das Markusevenelium (in Die Schriften des Neuen Testaments, Vol. I, 3rd ed. Revised by W. Bousset, c. 1917) cited by Taylor, Vincent, The Gospel According to Mark, Second ed., Thornapple Commentaries (c. 1966 by Vincent Taylor) p. 266)). Or is he saying in effect that the time of growth is over and the day of harvest has arrived? (Schweitzer, A., The Quest for the Historical Jesus (c. 1906 by W. Montgomery, English Translation) cited by Taylor, supra.); Cranfield, The Gospel According to St. Mark, The Cambridge Greek Testament Commentary (c. 1959 by Cambridge University Press) p. 167; Nineham, D.E., Saint Mark, The Pelican New Testament Commentaries (c. 1963 by D.E. Nineham, pub. Penguin Books, Ltd.) p. 142. That the reference to the harvest has strong eschatological overtones (e.g. Joel 3:1-13) suggests that the interpretation favored by the weight of scholarly authority is in fact the better view. The conviction that the time for harvest has already come comports with Jesus’ inaugural declaration that “the time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God is at hand.” Mark 1:15. Nevertheless, it is appropriate to recognize the parable’s emphasis on the growth and maturing of the crop as beyond the control of the planter. As Mark will make clear to us, the disciples’ understanding of Jesus and the kingdom he proclaims is laden with misconceptions and clouded by self-interest. Nevertheless, that kingdom is erupting into the world under their very noses and the opportunities for harvest are plentiful but as yet unseen.

The Parable of the Mustard Seed in verses 30-32 should likewise be understood against the backdrop of Jesus’ declaration that the kingdom of God has drawn near. Just as the parable of the planter concludes with an allusion to the final judgment pronounced by the Prophet Joel, so too this parable concludes by echoing the messianic proclamation in our lesson from Ezekiel. Yet there is a striking difference between the Parable of the Mustard Seed and Ezekiel’s prophetic oracle about the miraculous growth of the great cedar. Unlike the stately cedar, mustard is an invasive plant that can readily take over a field cultivated for more profitable crops. It is, not to put too fine a point on it, a weed. Whereas Matthew and Luke dignify the parable by characterizing the mustard plant as a tree (Matthew 13:31-32; Luke 13:18-19), Mark is content to call it what it is-a bush.

However one wishes to characterize the mustard plant, there is an obvious contrast between its seed which is proverbially small and the grown plant. Moreover, mustard is a fast growing plant that is highly disruptive. Hooker, Morna D., The Gospel According to Mark, Black’s New Testament Commentaries (c. 1991 by Morna D. Hooker, pub. by Hendrickson Publishers, Inc.) p. 136. Thus, it is unlikely that the parable is stressing the need for patience as the disciples wait for the gradual, progressive evolution of God’s kingdom through the institutions of democratic societies. The seed carries in it the immanent incursion of God’s reign into the well-ordered imperial garden. Be afraid, Caesar. Be very afraid!

Sunday, May 10th

SIXTH SUNDAY OF EASTER

Acts 10:44-48
Psalm 98
1 John 5:1-6
John 15:9-17

PRAYER OF THE DAY: O God, you have prepared for those who love you joys beyond understanding. Pour into our hearts such love for you that, loving you above all things, we may obtain your promises, which exceed all we can desire; through Jesus Christ, your Son and our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever.

Professor Stanley Hauerwas somewhere says that the object of a society’s worship is revealed by that for which its citizens are willing to kill and die. States of all stripes demand ultimate loyalty from their citizens, calling upon them both to kill and to die for the greater good of the nation. The United States is no different in that respect. It is expected that we will be willing to give our lives or the lives of our children if necessary to defend our country. On national holidays, particularly Memorial Day, we honor those who have made the “ultimate sacrifice” for the preservation of our nation, our freedoms, our way of life. Even when the public begins to doubt the necessity of some particular war, we nevertheless honor those who died fighting it. Something noble there is about dying in combat for the well-being of the nation that commands unusual respect.

Unusual, I say, because there are plenty of sacrifices for the common good (as we understand it) made by those who never see combat. Workers are not infrequently killed or injured in the course of constructing the roads, bridges and tunnels we drive on. It is hard to imagine our nation functioning without passable thoroughfares, yet we do not decorate people whose lives are spent in building and maintaining them. There is no holiday memorializing them nor is there a separate association, like the VA, that cares for their medical needs and those of their families. Neither do we recognize the roughly 30,000 people killed in traffic accidents to accommodate our preference for personal vehicular travel or the 10,000 who die each year for our insistence on the right to bear arms. Without thinking much about it, we deem these lives worth sacrificing to maintain the way of life to which we have grown accustomed. So, too, we in the so called “developed world,” whether we acknowledge it or not, enjoy a life of relative abundance through maintenance of a global economic system that is crushing the bottom third of the world’s population and strangling the planet we share with them. The life we enjoy is paid for with suffering and sacrifice that is hard for us to imagine and about which we would prefer not to think.

Jesus sacrificed his life as well, but not for any nation. He did not give his life to preserve the status quo. His sacrifice was made in loyalty to the gentle reign of his heavenly Father. Jesus died for an alternative way of being human and living together that he modeled throughout his life with his disciples. Like the leaders of other kingdoms, Jesus unapologetically invites his disciples to make the ultimate sacrifice for him. He calls his disciples to share in his suffering and death. A world united and held together by the same Trinitarian love that binds the Father to the Son is well worth living for and, when required, dying for. Disciples are called now more than ever before to renounce the false gods of nationalism, wealth and consumerism that cry out for the blood sacrifice of the innocent. They are called instead to lay down their lives with the victims of these idols. They are challenged to expose the false promises of wealth and prosperity gained through exploitation and point to the new, life giving existence offered through abiding in Jesus.

I should also add that the chief difference between the kingdom Jesus proclaims and all other kingdoms is this: Jesus will not have his disciples kill. While the kingdom is worth dying for, nothing justifies killing. At the end of the day, Jesus chose death over killing. The kingdom cannot be established through violence and it needs no violence to defend it. It sometimes requires the witness of martyrdom, but never the sword in its defense.

Acts 10:44-48

This passage is part and parcel of a larger narrative beginning with Peter’s vision in which the Lord speaks to him and commands him to slaughter and eat a host of animals deemed ritually unclean in the Hebrew Scriptures. See Acts 10:1-16. The meaning of this strange vision is not revealed to Peter until he finds himself in the midst of a gentile family, that of the Roman Centurion, Cornelius. There he witnesses the Spirit of God filling them all with faith and inspiring them to confess Jesus as Lord.

The story as a whole reflects the inner struggle of a deeply Jewish church with the positive response of gentiles to the good news about Jesus. Most Jewish disciples, like Peter, harbored serious reservations about receiving gentiles into the church. How could these outsiders possibly have an informed and sincere faith in the Jewish messiah when they knew next to nothing about the Jewish scriptures and practices? What would be the consequences of an influx of these new comers? What conditions, if any, should be placed upon admission of a gentile believer? Must he be circumcised? Should he be required to learn the Hebrew Scriptures? Peter was on solid scriptural grounds with his scruples about eating ritually unclean food and sharing meal fellowship with non-Jews. Jewish believers under the Greek tyrant, Antiochus Epiphanes chose to endure torture and to die horrible deaths rather than eat food deemed unclean as demanded of them. I Maccabees 1:62-64. How could Peter go into the home of a Roman oppressor of Israel and eat unclean food at his unclean table? Would this not dishonor the memory of the brave martyrs under Antiochus?

Peter’s scruples are resolved by an act of God filling his gentile hosts with the Holy Spirit enabling them speak in tongues. Vss. 44-46. His seemingly rhetorical question echoes that of the Ethiopian eunuch in or lesson from last Sunday: “Can anyone withhold the water for baptizing these people who have received the Holy Spirit just as we have?” Vs. 47; cf. Acts 8:36. A couple of things are noteworthy here. In the first place, the filling of the Holy Spirit precedes rather than follows baptism. Our theology of baptism has it quite the other way around-and rightly so. Baptism is given as God’s pledge that God’s Spirit dwells within us-even when there are no outward manifestations or inward feelings to substantiate it. As such, it is a great source of comfort. Nevertheless, God does not need baptism to impart God’s Spirit. We need baptism to remind us that God’s Holy Spirit dwells within us. Thus, baptism was quite properly administered to these newly Spirit filled believers to serve as God’s witness and vow that the Spirit they had just received would never leave them.

Second, this outpouring of God’s Spirit upon outsiders follows the trajectory established in the first chapter of Acts where the ascending Jesus commissioned the disciples to be his witnesses “in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.” Acts 1:8. The church, however, seems reluctant to take the good news of Jesus so far so fast. I am sure that the leaders back at synod headquarters would have preferred to conduct a lengthy study into the theological basis for mission to the gentiles followed by a mission viability survey and vote at some subsequent synod assembly. But the Spirit will have none of that. The Spirit continues to push, prod and needle the church into action. Throughout the Book of Acts it seems the church is forever racing frantically to catch up with the Holy Spirit. Then as now, disciples of Jesus are frequently dragged kicking and screaming into God’s future. We are not in charge of the church’s mission-and a good thing that is!

Psalm 98

This is a psalm of praise celebrating a great victory won for Israel by God’s might. This victory might refer to the Exodus, the Return from Babylon or some other great act of salvation experienced in Israel’s history. Rogerson and McKay are probably right in saying that we cannot determine with certainty which of these events is intended, if any of them. Rogerson, J.W. and McKay, J.W., Psalms 51-100, The Cambridge Bible Commentary (c. 1977 Cambridge University Press) p. 226. Saint Augustine says of this opening verse to the psalm: “When the whole earth is enjoined to sing a new song, it is meant, that peace singeth a new song.” Augustine, Expositions on the Book of Psalms, A Select Library of the Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers of the Christian Church, Vol.3 (reprinted 1979, edited by Philip Schaff, D.D., LL.D., pub. by WM. B. Eerdmans Publishing Co.) p. 480.

“Newness” (as in “Sing a new song” vs. 1) is a recurring theme in the prophets, particularly in Second Isaiah (Isaiah 40-55): “Remember not the former things; behold, I do a new thing…” Isaiah 43:18. So also in the New Testament: “If anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation.” II Corinthians 5:17; “Behold, I make all things new.” Revelation 21:5. Notice also the refrain of “victory” or “yeshuath” throughout the psalm. Vss. 1-3. The word is actually from the root “yeshua” or “salvation,” root also of Joshua and, of course, Jesus. God’s victory or salvation is for the ends of the earth, not only for Israel. Vss. 4 and 9. Yet Israel is instrumental in proclaiming and making known that victory.

“His right hand and his holy arm have gotten him victory.” Vs. 2. This is a figurative reference to divine power which alone is responsible for Israel’s victories. Ibid. It is worth remembering that when we confess that Jesus ascended to the right hand of God, we are asserting that Jesus is that power through which God exercises God’s reign. The power of God is God’s patient suffering, refusal to resort to retaliation and determination to love us in the face or our stark rejection.

“[God] will judge the world with righteousness and the peoples with equity.” Vs. 9. As Professor Anderson points out, “[t]he verb ‘judge’ means much more than the English word suggests. It refers to the power to obtain and maintain justice and proper order-power which human rulers should have (“Give us a king to judge us,” I Sam. 8:6) but which, in the biblical view, is vested supremely and ultimately in God.” Anderson, Bernhard, W., Out of the Depths-The Psalms Speak for Us Today, (c.1983 by Bernhard W. Anderson, pub. by The Westminster Press) p. 179.

1 John 5:1-6

Saint John’s argument is maddeningly circular. First he tells us, “No one has ever seen God; if we love one another, God lives in us, and his love is perfected in us.” I John 4:12. This week he tells us, “By this we know that we love the children of God, when we love God and obey his commandments.” Vs. 2. It seems we cannot know and obey God without loving one another and we cannot love one another without loving and obeying God. It is similar to the impossible conundrum faced by so many college graduates: You need experience to get the job; but you also need the job to get experience. This is a lot like trying to shimmy up a greased pole!

Upon further reflection, though, I don’t believe it is a question of the starting point. We don’t necessarily find God in love for one another. A lot of what goes under the name of love is really lust, desire for control, need for self-affirmation and codependency. Most violent crimes occur within the context of domestic abuse. Much of what goes under the rubric of loving our children has more to do with living vicariously through them. Love of one’s own family, tribe or nation often has as its flip side distrust or outright hatred of outsiders. Love, as John points out, is not an abstract principle or mere sentiment. It is concretely exercised by God toward us in the sending of God’s Son. I John 4:10. Jesus is the shape love toward our sisters and brothers in Christ must take. Moreover, this community of love is sent into the word for which Jesus died, just as Jesus himself was sent. John 20:21-22. Thus, the relationship between believing in Jesus and loving your sisters and brothers is dialogical. Love becomes concrete or “incarnate” within the community of disciples, but is refined by the abiding presence of Jesus through whom repentance and forgiveness is freely offered.

The difficulty in preaching this text and that of the gospel which follows lies in the word “love,” a vacuous word in our language. How much meaning can any word have when I can use it interchangeably to describe both my feelings for my wife as well as my fondness for rum raison ice cream? Saint John, as I have said, anchors love in God’s sending of the Son and the Son’s sending of his disciples. This countercultural love transcends and supersedes all other social, familial and nationalist loyalties grounding itself in the One who was sent for the life of the world. In so doing, it undermines all systems of domination, whether tribal, patriarchal or nationalistic. Faith in Jesus thereby “overcomes the world.” Vss. 4-5.

John 15:9-17

The gospel reading builds on the lesson from the First Letter of John. “As the Father has loved me, so I have loved you; abide in my love.” Vs. 9. Love is grounded in the Trinity. The love binding the community of faith together is not based on common interests, family ties or cultural heritage. It is the love that is the unity of the Trinity. God’s love for the Son is bound up with the sending of the Son, the beloved. So deeply did God love the world. John 3:16. The disciples are now invited to abide in that same Trinitarian love.

It is the nature of Trinitarian love that it “goes out” from itself. As the hymn has it, “The universe of space and time did not arise by chance, but as the Three, in love and hope, made room within their dance.” “Come Join the Dance of Trinity,” Lutheran Worship,(c. 2006 by the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, pub. by Augsburg Fortress) Hymn # 412. Just as love made room for the universe of space and time, so the sending of the Son makes space within the universe for that same pulsating Triune love. Love is not merely a human emotion or a humanly discerned philosophical/moral concept. It is the defining characteristic of the Holy Trinity pre-existing time itself. The same cannot be said of hatred, prejudice, jealousy, greed or any other vice. In fact, it cannot really be said of any other virtue either.

Trinitarian love is not hierarchical. Though I am hardly a student of doctrinal history, it seems to me that most, if not all, the heretical understandings of the Trinity rejected by the church have at least one thing in common: they created a hierarchy within the Trinity. It is surprising to me that a church that had become so rigidly hierarchical and so thoroughly patriarchal nevertheless rejected so many doctrinal models of the Triune God that subordinated the Son and/or Spirit to the Father in some way. Given the influence of the Empire over the Trinitarian disputes, this outcome is all the more remarkable. Perhaps we must simply attribute the church’s insistence on the unity and coequality within the Trinity to the working of the Holy Spirit in spite of rather than because of the church! Jesus makes clear that his relationship to his church is not a master/slave arrangement. It is through friendship that Jesus exercises his lordship over his disciples and will one day exercise it over all creation. To use Paul’s language, we are God’s ambassadors of reconciliation extending friendship with God to the world. II Corinthians 5:20. This is the “fruit that will last” about which John speaks. Vs. 16.

“…so that the Father will give you whatever you ask him in my name.” vs. 16. Taken out of context, this promise is problematic. God does not give us everything for which we ask-nor should he. Half the time we don’t have any idea about what we really want. Seldom do we have the sense or courage to ask for what we need. If God were to start writing blank checks in response to prayer, I suspect we would very soon find ourselves living in a post-apocalyptic landscape. Nothing is more dangerous to us than our desires. It is therefore critical to read this promise in light of Jesus’ commission to “bear fruit that lasts.” Jesus assures his disciples that God will give them all they need to bear faithful witness to the reconciling love of God in their midst and for the world.

Finally, Jesus’ admonition in verse 17 is worth raising up. “I am giving you these commands so that you may love one another.” Much of the time the church has gotten that directive backwards. Rather than putting the commandments in the service of love, we have made our love and acceptance of people contingent on compliance with the rules. While the commandments are to be observed and obeyed, obedience to any single commandment is shaped by the greatest commandment to love one another.