Monday, March 19, 2018

Reflection on John 12:20-33

Some Greeks walked directly up to the disciple Philip and requested, “Sir, we wish to see Jesus.”

“We wish to see Jesus.”  They desire to experience, first hand, the presence of Jesus.  They wish that Jesus might see them and shape them in a way that can only happen with a personal encounter.  In other words, they wish to truly know Jesus in the same way Jesus’ friends know him.  They thirst for a direct encounter.

So do we.  We too wish to see Jesus.

These words, “we wish to see Jesus,” are inscribed on the fronts of many pulpits around the word, reminding us that the presence of Jesus is offered every Sunday to those who yearn to be a friend of Jesus.  But, there was one pulpit that I visited once that was quite different. 

Rather than being inscribed on the exterior in some sort of intricate, wood carved detail, the words actually could not be seen unless you entered into the pulpit.  And, as you entered the pulpit, you would see the words etched into the wood on the surface right where the preacher would place his or her sermon manuscript.  The first thing that the preacher would see when they entered the pulpit were the words, “we want to see Jesus.”

I am assuming that the pulpit designer was probably not a pastor, but rather an everyday Christian who made their living by building stuff with their hands, much in the same way that Jesus did before he became a preacher. 

But, this everyday Christian had a reminder, a biblical reminder even, for those preachers who would dare grace that pulpit of his.  His reminder was that the preacher should not simply tell us about Jesus.  The preacher should not just inform us about Jesus and his deeds.  Nor should the preacher just go off on his or her own tangent and preach his or her own word.  Rather, the preacher is to show us Jesus. 

“We want to see Jesus,” the pulpit designer begged the preacher. 

I think that the hymn, “Open our Eyes” expresses both the Greek’s and the pulpit designer’s heart-felt desire quite well:

Open our eyes, Lord
We want to see Jesus
To reach out and touch Him
And say that we love Him
Open our ears, Lord
And help us to listen
Open our eyes, Lord
We want to see Jesus

So, with that in mind, I would like to say that it is interesting to know that Jesus was in his early thirties when he worked his signs and preached the good news. 

But, that is just information. 

To truly know and see Jesus like a friend is to see that he is the one friend in your group of friends who does not ever give up and who can never be pushed down for long. 

He is the grain of wheat that dies and becomes buried by the dirt, but always springs back up, better than ever. 

He is the one who is not deterred by the dirt in life.  He is the friend who raises you up on a low day.  He is the one who fills you with life, even when it seems that your life is spent.

It is interesting to know that Jesus was a Jew; a rabbi who kept to the best of Jewish tradition. 

But, that is just information. 

To truly know and see Jesus like a friend is to see that he challenges you in the way that best friends do.  Like a best friend, he wants you to be the best you that you can be. 

He challenges you to let go of your selfishness and open your heart; forgiving those people with whom you have problems and helping those who need help. 

He is the friend who says, “I have a meeting for you to go to…and I will go with you,” when you have troubles with addiction. 

He is the friend who says, “Come with me, I’ve got something fun to do,” and then takes you along with to build a ramp for an elderly neighbor. 

He is the friend who says, “You want to have some fun in the dark?” and then takes you to the grocery store to help fill a box with food, and then secretly, covertly even, drop it off on the doorstep of a struggling person in the middle of the night.

It is interesting to know that so many things that Jesus said and did have deep roots in the Old Testament and Jewish tradition and were not just made up out of thin air. 

But, that is just information that you can look up yourself. 

To truly know and see Jesus like a friend is to love him and all he stands for, yet be a little befuddled when those around you do not care as much.  It is as if the words of God come across as clear as thunder and dissipate into the distance.  And, like a friend who knows that Jesus actually has something to say that is good and life giving, you care when it is not heard.

It is interesting to know that Jesus died on the cross, executed not by the Jewish people, but by the Romans, most likely for causing disruption during a sensitive week.

But, that is just information. 

To truly know and see Jesus like a friend is to hear his words and hear the nature of his heart.  It is a self-giving, loving heart that says, “[on the cross I] will draw all people to myself.” 

To see Jesus is to see that he loves the world. 

To see Jesus is to see that he opens his arms to gather all, not just a few. 

To see Jesus is to see that all can be his friends, not just you and those who are like you. 

To see Jesus is to love those who Jesus loves.

Open our eyes, Lord
We want to see Jesus
To reach out and touch Him
And say that we love Him
Open our ears, Lord
And help us to listen
Open our eyes, Lord
We want to see Jesus

Sunday, March 11, 2018

Reflection on John 3:14-21

God loves to lift up. 

One day in the desert, the people of Israel had fallen into the dark pit of despair.  They were grumbling about wandering in the desert where there was no five star meal to be found.  Their gratitude to God for being set free from the strongest military nation on the planet sounded a lot like a murmur of complaint. 

As they grumbled, walking back and forth in their pit of despair, serpents were sent to bite them and shut them up.  Apparently, even God cannot stand the sound of a complainer. 

Do you regularly have to watch for serpents at your ankles? 

And, as the grumblers were bitten, one by one, they cried out to the Lord for mercy. 

So, to draw them out of their pit of despair, a serpent of bronze was raised up on a pole, and all who saw the serpent of bronze were healed.  Just as the serpent of bronze was raised up, so too were the people raised up, out of their darkness of grumbling, and brought into the light of salvation. 

God loves to lift up.

In the same way, Jesus took his place on a cross-shaped pole, and was lifted up so that all might see the salvation of the world.  All who have fallen into darkness can look to the cross and see the light of salvation. 

God loves to lift up.

That same Jesus, who had been pushed down to perish in the darkness…who had been buried in the darkness of the tomb…was lifted up on the third day.  Jesus was lifted up from the depths of death and walked once again in the light of new life. 

Jesus could not be kept down.  Jesus could not easily be thrown away like he was the newsprint from yesterday’s paper being buried by a bulldozer in the landfill.  No, Jesus was raised from the dead!  He broke from the rock that sealed the tomb.  He was lifted up. 

God loves to lift up.

Soon, that same Jesus, was exalted; lifted up from the earth to be one with his Father in heaven.  He was lifted up to a place of honor.  He was lifted up to a place where all could see the salvation of the Lord.  He was lifted up so that the world might look upon him and be saved. 

The Lord loves to save.  The Lord loves to shine light into the dark places.  The Lord loves to find us in those dark places and lift us up. 

The Lord loves to lift up!


“I’m so glad Jesus lifted me.
I'm so glad Jesus lifted me.
I'm so glad Jesus lifted me,
singing glory, hallelujah!
Jesus lifted me."


The Lord does not push us down.  The Lord does not revel in pushing God’s own people into dark corners of life. 

Oh, that does not mean we do not know what those dark places look like.  We find ourselves in those dark places, yes we do.  That is true. 

We do find ourselves in dark places. 

We get pushed down by those
who would step on us to get ahead in life. 

We get pushed down by those
who refuse to sow seeds of love but instead sow seeds of strife. 

We get pushed down by the heavy,
heavy weight of loss and grief. 

We get pushed down by the worries
that will not go to sleep. 

We get pushed down by substances
that threaten to take over and control our souls. 

We get pushed down by a world
that seems to have lost control. 

We get pushed down out each time it seems
that we have just lifted our heads into the light of day. 

We get pushed down, left alone in the dark,
pushed down by the powerful who then just walk away.

We get pushed down into the depths of darkness
where we get knocked around and spill our cup. 

But it is not God who pushes us down.  No, no, no,
because our God is a God who loves to lifts up.


“Satan had me bound, Jesus lifted me.
Satan had me bound, Jesus lifted me.
Satan had me bound, Jesus lifted me,
singing glory, hallelujah!
Jesus lifted me."


When I imagine the arms of the Lord, I imagine that the Lord has big bulging biceps.  Like a weight lifter, who does those bicep curls every day, I imagine that the Lord has well defined biceps from lifting others up. 

I also imagine that if you look at the other side of the Lord’s arm, if you look at the triceps, you will see that they are ill-defined.  Not because the Lord is not strong…not at all, the Lord is almighty and all-powerful…but because the Lord rarely pushes down. 

"Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world…” the gospel writer of John declares. 

God has ill defined triceps because God rarely pushes down. God rarely decides that destruction is the way build up the something good.  God rarely condemns the world. 

The gospel writer of John continues that the Son was not sent to push down the world, but was sent "in order that the world might be saved through him. Those who believe in him are not condemned…” 

The Lord does not push us down. 

The Lord does not go to the heavenly gym to work on the triceps.  Instead, the Lord lifts us up from the depths with his strong, well-defined biceps. 

Why are they so well defined?  Because, the Lord lifts up, again, and again, and again, and again.  The Lord exercises and keeps healthy by lifting us up with multiple repetitions. 

That is how you get strong (by doing multiple repetitions) am I right? 

I do admit that a lot of God’s strength training has come on behalf of me.  I do admit that sometimes, a night of darkness can be rather fun.  For some reason, slipping into the darkness is enticing and comes quite easy. 

But, that bicep of the Lord is bulging with love.  That bicep does not forget us when we fall into the darkness.  And, that bicep cannot push down, because its only job is to lift up.  Its only job is to lift us once again out of the darkness.  Its only job is to live the motto of the heavenly gym:

"For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.” 

God loves to lift up.


"When I was in trouble, Jesus lifted me.
When I was in trouble, Jesus lifted me.
When I was in trouble, Jesus lifted me,
singing glory, hallelujah!
Jesus lifted me."


That motto of love for the world is inscribed on the back wall of that heavenly gym. 

That motto of love for the world is on the hand stamp that gets printed on all of us who enter. 

That motto of love for the world is in the very air that is pumped through the ducts and vents of the air circulation system of that heavenly gym.  It enters into the lungs and enters into the souls of all of us who come to work out. 

That motto of love for the world stays with us as we leave. 

That motto of love for the world is still on our breath as we go to school, walk to the store, labor at work, and rest at home. 

It is a motto of love for the world that remind us to lay off the triceps and to flex again and again those mighty biceps.  It is the motto of all of us who lift up rather than push down.  It is the motto of all of us who look into the darkness and have compassion rather than schadenfreude. 

Those who lift up do not revel in the downfall of others.  Those who lift up do not revel in the struggle of those who have fallen, who scramble unsuccessfully to get up from the darkness. 

We are not people of darkness.  We are a people of the light.  We are children of the light, and we make a habit of working out those mighty biceps. 

After-all, those who have made a heavenly habit of “lifting up,” peer into the darkness using the eyes of the Lord Jesus Christ.  And, what they see with those loving eyes of Christ are people who struggle in the darkness. 

Like our savior, we are a people who “love the world.” 
We are a people who “love the world.” 
Say it with me: "We are a people who love the world." 

And, like the one who reached out a hand to us as we sunk into the dark waters of sin and death, we too grasp the hand of the one who suffers and we lift up. 

God loves to lift up, and therefore, so do we. 

We do not do it because it is the right thing to do.  Even though it is.

We do not do it because it makes us look good. 

We do not do it because it is what our Mamma told us to do, even though she surely did. 

We do it because our Lord is a Lord who showers us with love, and therefore, we have a lot of love to give. 

We lift up because our God loves to lift us up.


“I’m so glad Jesus lifted me.
I'm so glad Jesus lifted me.
I'm so glad Jesus lifted me,
singing glory, hallelujah!
Jesus lifted me."

Tuesday, March 6, 2018

Reflection on John 2:13-22

During war, generals talk about unintended, incidental casualties (collateral damage) and families console themselves with the idea that their loved ones sacrificed themselves for a greater good.  People are still sacrificed for a greater good. 

I thought that Jesus overturned the tables at the temple of sacrifice?  I thought that sacrifice had come to an end?

Children and their innocent lives of school and play are sacrificed regularly at the altar of adult concerns and priorities.  Children are moved on from friends, passed over in their concerns, and much worse yet, even slaughtered in their schools; all so that adults might make the moves “that are best;” that adults might publicly display that their positions are "right;" that adult concerns might be preserved; and so that incredibly disturbed people may make a statement to the world in a bloody piece of performance art. 

I thought that Jesus drove all the sacrificial sheep and cattle out of the temple, that they might be free to live…to live their lives…lives that are a gift from God?  Why are children still sacrificed?  I thought that sacrifice had come to an end?

I learned a long time ago in school that the Jewish temple is long gone.  I had learned that it was destroyed by the Romans in 70 AD.  I also learned that the temples of human sacrifice in the Americas have also become a part of distant history. 

I had learned that sacrifice was a thing of the past, yet, bodies still lie in our city streets, bodies still lie on the sides of rural roads, and bodies are still traded as goods to be bought for the satisfaction of others.

I thought that Jesus had spilled the coins of the money changers?  I thought that their tables had been overturned?  I thought that Jesus had cleared out the temple of sacrifice and placed himself on the altar?

One day in ancient Jerusalem, Jesus stepped into the temple and cut off the power.  It was as if he had taken a huge set of clippers, walked up to the huge multi-cables that feed power to Beaver Stadium, and cut the power that powers the lights and television equipment that allows Penn State to perform of the field. 

Mary Hinkle Shone, modern day biblical scholar and theologian, points out that Jesus’ action of setting free the animals intended for sacrifices and spilling the coins of the money changers (money that was required to make transactions in the temple) was the equivalent of cutting the power to a stadium. 

Jesus cut the power of the temple for a reason.  It was no longer needed. 

The sacrifices intended to appease God for both atonement and celebration were no longer needed. 

Jesus, himself, walks up to the altar of the cross, is nailed to it, and gives up his life as the final sacrifice to appease God.  Jesus carries all the sins…all of the brokenness of our world…onto the cross and brings them all to death. 

Jesus' death was the last sacrifice. 

Jesus' death was the final sacrifice to make things right in the world.  No other sacrifices would be needed.  His body was to be the last temple.  No other temples would need to be constructed.

Temples of sacrifice are not what the world needs to make things right.  We do not need more bloodshed to create peace.  We do not need more bloodshed to make our points known to the world.  What our world desperately does need is a temple of new life.

What if we had a temple that brought healing rather than harm? 

What if we had a temple that brought people together rather than driving them apart? 

What if we had a temple that could love and create new life out of death? 

What our new temple was not built with stone and mortar, but could walk around and live with us? 

What if we could see our temple and feel its touch? 

What if our temple of new life could not be destroyed?

"Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up," Jesus declares. 

Jesus is our new temple.  Jesus is the temple of God that walks with us, talks with us, heals us, forgives us, and brings us new life.  Jesus is not a temple that seeks constant sacrifices to set things straight, rather, he is a temple of new life that is always making things new.

Jesus is your temple of new life. 

Jesus is the one who can take the terrible sacrifices of our world and make something of them...something of worth…something of love.

What if your worst pain could be transformed into something redeeming and worthwhile?  What if your worst sin could be forgiven and your past made into a story that could heal rather than hurt?  What if God’s temple cared about you, and set you free to live your life as God always wanted?

His website brings in thousands of people each day.  Each day people come with their struggles of addiction to drugs and alcohol and find hope and new life in the inspiring and challenging articles that he provides. 

Who would have thought, five years ago, that such hope and new life would be possible?  While the church that the former pastor served was being destroyed by his own lies and alcohol consumption, and while his wife resolved that she could no longer support him, who would have thought that such destruction and rubble could lead to something redeeming just a handful of years later? 

But, we have a temple that can be rebuilt in three days.  We have a temple that cares for the sinner and can raise from the dead.  We have a temple, Jesus Christ, who never looks at us and says, “Here’s a lost cause.”  Rather, Jesus looks at our rubble and says, "What fine building material!" 

Jesus is our temple, a temple that loves us to the end.