My god is a great and wonderful god. My god has always been there for me. When I had no friends after moving in second grade, my god was there to keep me company and to show me a kid across the kickball field who also needed a friend. When I was sick for three weeks straight in fourth grade with a bad case of the stomach flu, my god was there to heal me. When I thought that I just could not make it through the pressure and the tests of High School, my god was there to cheer me on. My god has always been there, right beside me. My god follows me wherever I go, supporting me when I need and healing when I ask. My god is a great god and wonderful god.
My god also approves of chocolate. I bet you did not know that. My god says eat all you want. “Since I said you can eat it, it is calorie free,” my god says. My god is a great god.
My god also hates certain people. That little red sports car that crosses over the center line into my lane as he goes wildly around the blind curves on highway 220; yeah, not top on my god’s “good child” list. There is a reason he rides in a blazing red sports car; it is to remind him of his eternal destination. I pray that there is a state patrolman just down the road. I am certain that my god will listen. My god is a great god.
As you have probably already figured out, my god may be a great god, but my god is not Jesus. Oh, there are definitely similarities to Jesus, do not get me wrong. My god would have healed my mother-in-law also. And, healed from her illness, my mother-in-law would have also started waiting on my every need. “Hey mom, get me a pizza from the fridge, and a beer.” Good idea Simon Peter.
Do not get me wrong, I am not totally selfish. I would have allowed my god to heal all of those people who had gathered outside my door also. I am not cruel hearted. Just as long as my god would have followed along after me when I decided that I wanted to go somewhere. “Come on god…good god…good god!”
The problem with Jesus is that Jesus refuses to be, “my god.” Jesus refuses to be anybody's god. When hunted down by his disciples and asked to come back into town as requested by all of those healed people, Jesus answers, “Let us go into the neighboring towns, so that I may proclaim the message there also.” My god would not have done that. My god would have done what I expected and come back into town with me. My god is not rebellious.
My god is not the same as Jesus.
I am not sure why this happens, but so easily God touches our lives with some sort of healing and we immediately try to grab onto God and try to keep God for ourselves. Jesus does not play along. Jesus does not belong to us, we belong to Jesus. Notice who does the action in our lives. Jesus claims us at his in our baptism. Jesus feeds us at his Holy Supper. Jesus moves on to the next town and we follow. Jesus does not belong to us, we belong to Jesus.
I think that one of the most miraculous, healing examples of this is a teacher I know. When his son, the beloved jokester of the family, was killed in an automobile accident, this teacher was left helpless and stranded. As a parent, you pour your heart, your pride, and your sense of purpose into your children. And, when in a minute when they are gone from this life, they take with them your heart, pride, and purpose.
“What do I do? Where do I go from here, this teacher could be heard sobbing in the hall of the church.”
If Jesus were this teacher’s god, he would have raised his son right out of that coffin. But, Jesus did not belong to this teacher. Rather, this teacher belonged to Jesus.
“Where do I go from here?” was the question. That question was a miracle in itself. It was not a demand on God. Instead, it was an invitation for Jesus to lead. And lead Jesus did. Jesus went into the next town to do some healing and this teacher followed. And in following Jesus, this teacher once again found his heart, his pride, and his purpose in life as he took a position in a graduate school to teach others how to deal with the pain of tragic loss. He was led into the next town, into the next part of his life, so that Jesus could do some healing there also.
Jesus also does not belong to you. Jesus is not your god. But you most certainly are God’s child. You belong to Jesus. Remember that as you follow Jesus into the next town; as you follow Jesus into the next part of your life.
All Scripture quotes are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyrighted, 1989 by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the U.S.A., and is used by permission. All rights reserved.
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Monday, February 2, 2009
Reflection on Mark 1:21-28
I had a dream the other night. It was an amazing dream. I was sitting in a committee meeting and we were discussing once again an idea that we had been discussing for the last four years. I’m sure that doesn't occur in your meetings, but it does in mine. And the meeting within the dream went something like this:
“Yes I think we should hold a pastor’s retreat for the entire synod. What will the subject be?” Pastor A pondered.
“Well, three years ago, when you were last a member on this committee, didn’t you mention spiritual renewal as an idea for the retreat?” Pastor B yawned.
“That’s a good idea. Pastors get so tired of meetings all day. They need something refreshing. They need something to revive their ministry. They don’t need another meeting,” Pastor A yawned back.
“Will you please set up a subcommittee for next month to discuss it,” Pastor B moved.
“I guess that would be the best…”
And with that the door burst open with a large force of air, sending snow swirling around the room. Jesus stepped in, wearing his white robe and some snow boots with fake fur trim.
He looked at the pastors, who were amazingly still yawning. Somehow they were not amazed at Jesus entrance. It was as if they had spent so much time talking about the guy, that they were numb to his actual presence.
“Get up. Be refreshed. Go from here and be my people.” Jesus commanded.
Immediately, the room warmed and the yawning stopped. The pastors got up, got into Pastor A’s car, and drove to a friend’s house; a pastor whom they knew was struggling, hurt, tired, and needed some renewal himself. There was no need for a committee.
I woke up. The dream was amazing. Jesus did more than join the debate; he made it happen. His words had authority and they freed people to do something great and good.
When Jesus came to the synagogue and found the man plagued by an unclean spirit, he did more than alert the council that they better consider at their next meeting what to do about this guy who keeps disrupting worship service. He did not create a subcommittee to deal with the guy and ask him nicely to leave and not return. Instead, he spoke words that freed the man from the torment of voices speaking nonsense within.
The word of Jesus is powerful. It is more than frozen contemplation and debate. It is a word that is warm and alive. It heals the sick. It offers freedom to those who are stuck in life. It is a word that has the power to move.
Certainly, others seem to have similar words of power. The president can say one word and an entire army of people will shift from one continent to another. A jury can decide whether a man lives or dies and it happens according to the words they speak. A committee can decide whether or not to hire you. In my case as a pastor, a committee can decide whether or not you can become a pastor after eight years of post high school education. Just one word from one member of the committee, “No,” can send your eight years down the drain.
Some people’s words allow them to exert authority “over” other people. Their authority is intended to control others. Jesus' authority is quite different. Jesus’ authority is for the sake of others. Jesus’ words are for the good of those he encounters. He had no power to control armies and did not wish to control people’s careers. For example, when he spoke the words:
You have heard that it was said to those of ancient times, 'You shall not murder'; and 'whoever murders shall be liable to judgment.' But I say to you that if you are angry with a brother or sister, you will be liable to judgment; and if you insult a brother or sister, you will be liable to the (high) council; and if you say, 'You fool,' you will be liable to the hell of fire.
He is not trying to exert his power over us so that we will not murder. Instead, he is inviting us to free ourselves from the things that lead to the horrible end we call murder. His words seek to free us from continual anger. His words seek to free us from insults resulting from jealousy. He seeks to protect people from flippant remarks of the tongue such as “you’re stupid.” These words seem to exert no power at all but have the potential the send another person down a terrible path in life.
Jesus does not use his words to control. Jesus does use his power to free us from the trappings of our lives so that we can also, get up, walk out the door, and serve the Lord the way we were created to do. So, what are you doing? Be healed. Be freed. Get up, go in peace, and serve the Lord.
All Scripture quotes are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyrighted, 1989 by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the U.S.A., and is used by permission. All rights reserved.
“Yes I think we should hold a pastor’s retreat for the entire synod. What will the subject be?” Pastor A pondered.
“Well, three years ago, when you were last a member on this committee, didn’t you mention spiritual renewal as an idea for the retreat?” Pastor B yawned.
“That’s a good idea. Pastors get so tired of meetings all day. They need something refreshing. They need something to revive their ministry. They don’t need another meeting,” Pastor A yawned back.
“Will you please set up a subcommittee for next month to discuss it,” Pastor B moved.
“I guess that would be the best…”
And with that the door burst open with a large force of air, sending snow swirling around the room. Jesus stepped in, wearing his white robe and some snow boots with fake fur trim.
He looked at the pastors, who were amazingly still yawning. Somehow they were not amazed at Jesus entrance. It was as if they had spent so much time talking about the guy, that they were numb to his actual presence.
“Get up. Be refreshed. Go from here and be my people.” Jesus commanded.
Immediately, the room warmed and the yawning stopped. The pastors got up, got into Pastor A’s car, and drove to a friend’s house; a pastor whom they knew was struggling, hurt, tired, and needed some renewal himself. There was no need for a committee.
I woke up. The dream was amazing. Jesus did more than join the debate; he made it happen. His words had authority and they freed people to do something great and good.
When Jesus came to the synagogue and found the man plagued by an unclean spirit, he did more than alert the council that they better consider at their next meeting what to do about this guy who keeps disrupting worship service. He did not create a subcommittee to deal with the guy and ask him nicely to leave and not return. Instead, he spoke words that freed the man from the torment of voices speaking nonsense within.
The word of Jesus is powerful. It is more than frozen contemplation and debate. It is a word that is warm and alive. It heals the sick. It offers freedom to those who are stuck in life. It is a word that has the power to move.
Certainly, others seem to have similar words of power. The president can say one word and an entire army of people will shift from one continent to another. A jury can decide whether a man lives or dies and it happens according to the words they speak. A committee can decide whether or not to hire you. In my case as a pastor, a committee can decide whether or not you can become a pastor after eight years of post high school education. Just one word from one member of the committee, “No,” can send your eight years down the drain.
Some people’s words allow them to exert authority “over” other people. Their authority is intended to control others. Jesus' authority is quite different. Jesus’ authority is for the sake of others. Jesus’ words are for the good of those he encounters. He had no power to control armies and did not wish to control people’s careers. For example, when he spoke the words:
You have heard that it was said to those of ancient times, 'You shall not murder'; and 'whoever murders shall be liable to judgment.' But I say to you that if you are angry with a brother or sister, you will be liable to judgment; and if you insult a brother or sister, you will be liable to the (high) council; and if you say, 'You fool,' you will be liable to the hell of fire.
He is not trying to exert his power over us so that we will not murder. Instead, he is inviting us to free ourselves from the things that lead to the horrible end we call murder. His words seek to free us from continual anger. His words seek to free us from insults resulting from jealousy. He seeks to protect people from flippant remarks of the tongue such as “you’re stupid.” These words seem to exert no power at all but have the potential the send another person down a terrible path in life.
Jesus does not use his words to control. Jesus does use his power to free us from the trappings of our lives so that we can also, get up, walk out the door, and serve the Lord the way we were created to do. So, what are you doing? Be healed. Be freed. Get up, go in peace, and serve the Lord.
All Scripture quotes are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyrighted, 1989 by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the U.S.A., and is used by permission. All rights reserved.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Refection on Mark 1:14-20
Now after John was arrested, Jesus came to Galilee, proclaiming the good news of God, and saying, "The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near, turn your lives around, memorize religious doctrine, drink some Lutheran coffee, and believe sola scriptura."
As Jesus passed along the Sea of Galilee, he saw Simon and his brother Andrew casting a net into the sea — for they were fishermen. And Jesus said to them, "Follow me and I will make you fish for people who will memorize and recite things you failed to memorize and recite during your confirmation." And, with such a strong incentive, they left their nets and followed him.
As he went a little farther, he saw James son of Zebedee and his brother John, who were in their boat mending the nets. Immediately he called them saying, “hey we got some great organ music and some cool Nicene Creed reciting going on, come to church;” and they left their father Zebedee in the boat with the hired men, and followed him.
There is definitely one thing that the call to follow Jesus was not; it was not the call to follow some great and glorious belief or complex religious creed. It was not the call to follow the ideals of the French Revolution nor was it the call to shout “yes we can” for a greater America. It was not the call to go to a great church with great programming for the entire family. The call of Jesus was none of those things. The call was a little more personal than that.
The call was more like this: while sitting at home with your laptop, working on some reports that are now consuming your entire life, work or school after-all consumes your entire life; and while gazing at the computer screen engulfed in the mind frame of just getting the job done so that you can move on to more important things like watching a movies or eating the strawberry shortcake that is waiting right now in the kitchen; you see move across your window a figure. You glance up, and to your shock, it is a person just staring at you. It isn’t the sort of staring that says “I’m ready to steal everything and leave you as crow food.” Rather, it is the stare that says, “You seem to need help. You seem stuck to your chair…you seem stuck in life. You seem like you need something more.” Looking into the concerned eyes, you move to the front door and open it.
Jesus says only a few words, “turn your life around and follow me. Oh, and bring your laptop, it will no longer surf for information, it will now surf to find people.” And with that you grab your laptop and follow.
Perhaps, it is not a laptop you have but a bundle of knitting and Jesus says, “bring your knitting, no longer will you just knit together patterns, but you will now knit together some beautiful people.” And with that you grab your knitting and follow.
Perhaps, it is not even knitting, but working on a car and he says, “bring the car, no longer will you just put cars back together, but you will put people together.” And with that, you get in the car and follow.
Whatever it is that Jesus asks you to bring along, you grab it, you turn your life from whatever was consuming so much of your time, and you follow, trusting that Jesus knows where he is going.
The life of faith is not singing certain songs, though that may be a part of it. The life of faith is not memorizing and reciting certain beliefs, though they may influence it. The life of faith is not knowing all the answers to the mysteries of life and of God. The life of faith is not staying stuck in the same rut for your whole life. The life of faith is a relationship with Christ.
It is a relationship similar to the one you had with your parents while you were young, you had no idea where they were taking you, but you trusted that they would not only get you there, but would not leave you stranded.
The life of faith is a relationship with Christ, in which we trust where we are being led, and trust that we will not be left alone with no direction. The life of faith is one of turning our life around, and following.
Jesus is calling you to a new and wonderful life. Grab your things and follow. Who knows where it will lead?
All Scripture quotes are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyrighted, 1989 by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the U.S.A., and is used by permission. All rights reserved.
As Jesus passed along the Sea of Galilee, he saw Simon and his brother Andrew casting a net into the sea — for they were fishermen. And Jesus said to them, "Follow me and I will make you fish for people who will memorize and recite things you failed to memorize and recite during your confirmation." And, with such a strong incentive, they left their nets and followed him.
As he went a little farther, he saw James son of Zebedee and his brother John, who were in their boat mending the nets. Immediately he called them saying, “hey we got some great organ music and some cool Nicene Creed reciting going on, come to church;” and they left their father Zebedee in the boat with the hired men, and followed him.
There is definitely one thing that the call to follow Jesus was not; it was not the call to follow some great and glorious belief or complex religious creed. It was not the call to follow the ideals of the French Revolution nor was it the call to shout “yes we can” for a greater America. It was not the call to go to a great church with great programming for the entire family. The call of Jesus was none of those things. The call was a little more personal than that.
The call was more like this: while sitting at home with your laptop, working on some reports that are now consuming your entire life, work or school after-all consumes your entire life; and while gazing at the computer screen engulfed in the mind frame of just getting the job done so that you can move on to more important things like watching a movies or eating the strawberry shortcake that is waiting right now in the kitchen; you see move across your window a figure. You glance up, and to your shock, it is a person just staring at you. It isn’t the sort of staring that says “I’m ready to steal everything and leave you as crow food.” Rather, it is the stare that says, “You seem to need help. You seem stuck to your chair…you seem stuck in life. You seem like you need something more.” Looking into the concerned eyes, you move to the front door and open it.
Jesus says only a few words, “turn your life around and follow me. Oh, and bring your laptop, it will no longer surf for information, it will now surf to find people.” And with that you grab your laptop and follow.
Perhaps, it is not a laptop you have but a bundle of knitting and Jesus says, “bring your knitting, no longer will you just knit together patterns, but you will now knit together some beautiful people.” And with that you grab your knitting and follow.
Perhaps, it is not even knitting, but working on a car and he says, “bring the car, no longer will you just put cars back together, but you will put people together.” And with that, you get in the car and follow.
Whatever it is that Jesus asks you to bring along, you grab it, you turn your life from whatever was consuming so much of your time, and you follow, trusting that Jesus knows where he is going.
The life of faith is not singing certain songs, though that may be a part of it. The life of faith is not memorizing and reciting certain beliefs, though they may influence it. The life of faith is not knowing all the answers to the mysteries of life and of God. The life of faith is not staying stuck in the same rut for your whole life. The life of faith is a relationship with Christ.
It is a relationship similar to the one you had with your parents while you were young, you had no idea where they were taking you, but you trusted that they would not only get you there, but would not leave you stranded.
The life of faith is a relationship with Christ, in which we trust where we are being led, and trust that we will not be left alone with no direction. The life of faith is one of turning our life around, and following.
Jesus is calling you to a new and wonderful life. Grab your things and follow. Who knows where it will lead?
All Scripture quotes are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyrighted, 1989 by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the U.S.A., and is used by permission. All rights reserved.
Reflection on John 1:43-51
One of my favorite ceremonies in the church is the remembrance of baptism. For those who do not know, the remembrance of Baptism is a ceremony where all the faithful come to the baptismal font and have a cross marked with water from the font on their forehead. It is not a baptism. It is to remember the day we were baptized.
The coolness of the water leaves the imprint of the cross on the forehead. It is an imprint that speaks truth without words. It is an imprint that has been there since our baptism. As we walk back to our seats, the breeze across the mark on our foreheads boldly declares that we are God’s children. “I am a Child of God.” We can literally feel and remember that we are marked with the cross of Christ forever.
My first baptismal remembrance was really a non-event for me. It happened (or rather did not happen) on my first day of bible camp when I had just finished fourth grade. Everyone I had just met briefly were gathered into a crowded barn around a very small fire and we shyly sang songs to God through the night. It was a time in my life when I felt alone. Friends were hard to come by. And at this moment of singing with people I did not even know, away from home, I felt even more alone.
Breaking into my loneliness, the minister declared that we “are all children of God. You are not alone. God is with you. This was your promise in baptism. You will never be alone. Remember your baptism.” And with those words, the counselors took water, and made signs of the cross on each and every one of us. Well, almost all of us. My counselor did not find me, and I alone had been forgotten. The drops of rain on the roof of the barn echoed and mocked my dry forehead.
"I do not need a counselor to share God with me" I thought to myself. I and God were in a one-on-one relationship after-all.
And so, as I left to go back to my cabin, I looked into the sky and waited for God to mark my forehead with some heavenly rain. This was going to be my great connection with God. This was going to be my proof of God’s goodness. This was going to be a great disappointment. I do not know if you knew this or not, but rain does not listen to fourth graders. Nor does God do what a fourth grader tells God to do. Rain hit every part of my face, but my forehead. I even willed the rain to make a line down my forehead and tilted my head sideways to finish the cross. It did not work.
“I want to go home,” I told my counselor when I reached my cabin. “What good can come out of this camp?” I whined.
“What good can come out of a stupid bible camp?” I asked. “What good can come out of Nazareth?” Nathanael asked when told about Jesus. “What good can come out of church?” my younger brother asks as he struggles with the horrible memories of war and death. “What good can come out of this?” asks someone who just found out they have cancer. “What good can come out of this,” asks the worker who after 30 years is laid off. “What good can come out of this?”
I know that you are already filling in the answers. Perhaps, a better job will come out of being laid off. Perhaps, your illness will bring a torn family together. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps. But, perhaps not. Before distancing yourself with answers, stay with the question for a while, “What good can come out of this?”
Being stuck in the question has caused people to do a lot of things to try to get an answer from God. In ancient time, people built an enormous tower (the tower of Babel) to reach God and get their answer. People today search the mysteries of ancient Mayan ruins and stone calendars in order to find the secret cosmic wormhole to God and God’s answers. People make deals with God, “I will do much better with my children if only you talk to me and tell me what will happen.” At camp, I searched the sky for a cross on my forehead.
“You won’t find the answer in the sky.” My counselor told me that evening as I talked
about my struggles.
"I want to go home, what good will come out of this week anyway?”
With the wisdom of Philip sewn into his heart by God, my counselor answered, “I don’t know what good will come out of it. Why don’t you stay here and see.”
“What good can come from losing a great job?”
“I don’t know, come and see.”
“What good can come out of illness?”
“I don’t know, come and see.”
“What good can come out of church?”
“I don’t know, come and see.”
“What good can come out of the hick town of Nazareth?”
“I don’t know, come and see.”
When Nathanael followed Philip, Jesus found him, and when Jesus finds you, God finds you.
When I stayed for the rest of the week at camp, Jesus found me, and when Jesus finds you, God finds you.
There is great wisdom in those simple words of Philip. They speak possibility without giving a cheap answer or false promise. They speak hope without laying out a 12 step plan. They leave possibilities open for Jesus to save in whatever way Jesus sees fit. “Come and see.”
All Scripture quotes are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyrighted, 1989 by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the U.S.A., and is used by permission. All rights reserved.
The coolness of the water leaves the imprint of the cross on the forehead. It is an imprint that speaks truth without words. It is an imprint that has been there since our baptism. As we walk back to our seats, the breeze across the mark on our foreheads boldly declares that we are God’s children. “I am a Child of God.” We can literally feel and remember that we are marked with the cross of Christ forever.
My first baptismal remembrance was really a non-event for me. It happened (or rather did not happen) on my first day of bible camp when I had just finished fourth grade. Everyone I had just met briefly were gathered into a crowded barn around a very small fire and we shyly sang songs to God through the night. It was a time in my life when I felt alone. Friends were hard to come by. And at this moment of singing with people I did not even know, away from home, I felt even more alone.
Breaking into my loneliness, the minister declared that we “are all children of God. You are not alone. God is with you. This was your promise in baptism. You will never be alone. Remember your baptism.” And with those words, the counselors took water, and made signs of the cross on each and every one of us. Well, almost all of us. My counselor did not find me, and I alone had been forgotten. The drops of rain on the roof of the barn echoed and mocked my dry forehead.
"I do not need a counselor to share God with me" I thought to myself. I and God were in a one-on-one relationship after-all.
And so, as I left to go back to my cabin, I looked into the sky and waited for God to mark my forehead with some heavenly rain. This was going to be my great connection with God. This was going to be my proof of God’s goodness. This was going to be a great disappointment. I do not know if you knew this or not, but rain does not listen to fourth graders. Nor does God do what a fourth grader tells God to do. Rain hit every part of my face, but my forehead. I even willed the rain to make a line down my forehead and tilted my head sideways to finish the cross. It did not work.
“I want to go home,” I told my counselor when I reached my cabin. “What good can come out of this camp?” I whined.
“What good can come out of a stupid bible camp?” I asked. “What good can come out of Nazareth?” Nathanael asked when told about Jesus. “What good can come out of church?” my younger brother asks as he struggles with the horrible memories of war and death. “What good can come out of this?” asks someone who just found out they have cancer. “What good can come out of this,” asks the worker who after 30 years is laid off. “What good can come out of this?”
I know that you are already filling in the answers. Perhaps, a better job will come out of being laid off. Perhaps, your illness will bring a torn family together. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps. But, perhaps not. Before distancing yourself with answers, stay with the question for a while, “What good can come out of this?”
Being stuck in the question has caused people to do a lot of things to try to get an answer from God. In ancient time, people built an enormous tower (the tower of Babel) to reach God and get their answer. People today search the mysteries of ancient Mayan ruins and stone calendars in order to find the secret cosmic wormhole to God and God’s answers. People make deals with God, “I will do much better with my children if only you talk to me and tell me what will happen.” At camp, I searched the sky for a cross on my forehead.
“You won’t find the answer in the sky.” My counselor told me that evening as I talked
about my struggles.
"I want to go home, what good will come out of this week anyway?”
With the wisdom of Philip sewn into his heart by God, my counselor answered, “I don’t know what good will come out of it. Why don’t you stay here and see.”
“What good can come from losing a great job?”
“I don’t know, come and see.”
“What good can come out of illness?”
“I don’t know, come and see.”
“What good can come out of church?”
“I don’t know, come and see.”
“What good can come out of the hick town of Nazareth?”
“I don’t know, come and see.”
When Nathanael followed Philip, Jesus found him, and when Jesus finds you, God finds you.
When I stayed for the rest of the week at camp, Jesus found me, and when Jesus finds you, God finds you.
There is great wisdom in those simple words of Philip. They speak possibility without giving a cheap answer or false promise. They speak hope without laying out a 12 step plan. They leave possibilities open for Jesus to save in whatever way Jesus sees fit. “Come and see.”
All Scripture quotes are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyrighted, 1989 by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the U.S.A., and is used by permission. All rights reserved.
Friday, December 26, 2008
Reflection on Luke 2:1-20
Mary pondered.
Here we have a scene where great and glorious things are taking place: Mary has been told that she is carrying God’s own Son, the Messiah, she and Joseph endure a long trip to Bethlehem, they search and find no place to stay but a stable, shepherds are visited by an angel and told to go see the child laying in a manger, they gather in the stable exclaiming with joy the things that are taking place, and with all of this great and glorious chaos of strange, rejoicing people and dirt, and barn animal smells, and cooing young child all swirling around her; Mary takes a breath and ponders.
What do you ponder on when you’ve just given birth to God’s son? What do you ponder when God has literally dwelled within you for nine months, and now stares at you, needing you to feed him, needing you to raise him. I guess you probably ponder how you are to raise him.
What would happen if you were to run dry of milk and could not feed him? What is the penalty for killing God’s son? What are you going to do when he brakes a plate on purpose, smiles at you while you approach in anger, and then snaps his fingers to put it right back together? Do you get after him? Did he do anything wrong? What do you say to him when as a teen he tells Joseph to his face, “You are not my father! I listen to only my father!” Do you send him to his room without food? Again, should you starve the son of God?
It is a lot to take in. It is a lot to think about. It is a lot to ponder for a fourteen year old girl who has never raised a child before and now is expected to raise the Son of God. Does the world come to an end just because you forget to clean your hands before feeding the Christ child and something tragic happens?
This night, while everyone else loudly dances around and rejoices and a Shepherd pretends to ride the goat across from the manger, the sound quickly falls away to silence as Mary ponders.
Who is she that God would choose her for such a task? She is young. She is inexperienced. To the outside world she appears to have slept around. She stares at her young hands and sees just how small her palms and fingers are. Their size betray her. They hide a secret greatness.
Great people are given great tasks by God. The surprising thing is that most people do not know that they are great. Most people do not know they have been chosen by God. Most people do not realize that the smile and handshake that they gave a stranger in K-Mart actually caused the stranger to go home and spend a great, loving day with their family, even though they lack the money this year to create a lavish holiday.
Most people do not realize that forgiving someone for saying something stupid about you may have little effect on your own life, you have big shoulders after-all, but it just may cause that person to feel good and decent once again.
Most people do not realize that God has made them great. Most people do not realize that God has chosen them. But, God has. God has chosen us to be his people.
As she sat there, Mary pondered on this wonderful truth just as she did nine months before when the angel told her that she would bear a Son. God has chosen her, a lowly one, a poor one, to be a servant through whom God might do great things. She did nothing to earn this privilege. God just chose to come to her in a very real way. God chose to dwell inside of her. God chose her to share God's love with all the world.
And, God also chooses to come to you. Christ chooses to dwell inside you in a very real way; with his very real love, his very real forgiveness, and his very real peace. The Christ child has chosen to dwell in you. This is something to ponder.
All Scripture quotes are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyrighted, 1989 by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the U.S.A., and is used by permission. All rights reserved.
Here we have a scene where great and glorious things are taking place: Mary has been told that she is carrying God’s own Son, the Messiah, she and Joseph endure a long trip to Bethlehem, they search and find no place to stay but a stable, shepherds are visited by an angel and told to go see the child laying in a manger, they gather in the stable exclaiming with joy the things that are taking place, and with all of this great and glorious chaos of strange, rejoicing people and dirt, and barn animal smells, and cooing young child all swirling around her; Mary takes a breath and ponders.
What do you ponder on when you’ve just given birth to God’s son? What do you ponder when God has literally dwelled within you for nine months, and now stares at you, needing you to feed him, needing you to raise him. I guess you probably ponder how you are to raise him.
What would happen if you were to run dry of milk and could not feed him? What is the penalty for killing God’s son? What are you going to do when he brakes a plate on purpose, smiles at you while you approach in anger, and then snaps his fingers to put it right back together? Do you get after him? Did he do anything wrong? What do you say to him when as a teen he tells Joseph to his face, “You are not my father! I listen to only my father!” Do you send him to his room without food? Again, should you starve the son of God?
It is a lot to take in. It is a lot to think about. It is a lot to ponder for a fourteen year old girl who has never raised a child before and now is expected to raise the Son of God. Does the world come to an end just because you forget to clean your hands before feeding the Christ child and something tragic happens?
This night, while everyone else loudly dances around and rejoices and a Shepherd pretends to ride the goat across from the manger, the sound quickly falls away to silence as Mary ponders.
Who is she that God would choose her for such a task? She is young. She is inexperienced. To the outside world she appears to have slept around. She stares at her young hands and sees just how small her palms and fingers are. Their size betray her. They hide a secret greatness.
Great people are given great tasks by God. The surprising thing is that most people do not know that they are great. Most people do not know they have been chosen by God. Most people do not realize that the smile and handshake that they gave a stranger in K-Mart actually caused the stranger to go home and spend a great, loving day with their family, even though they lack the money this year to create a lavish holiday.
Most people do not realize that forgiving someone for saying something stupid about you may have little effect on your own life, you have big shoulders after-all, but it just may cause that person to feel good and decent once again.
Most people do not realize that God has made them great. Most people do not realize that God has chosen them. But, God has. God has chosen us to be his people.
As she sat there, Mary pondered on this wonderful truth just as she did nine months before when the angel told her that she would bear a Son. God has chosen her, a lowly one, a poor one, to be a servant through whom God might do great things. She did nothing to earn this privilege. God just chose to come to her in a very real way. God chose to dwell inside of her. God chose her to share God's love with all the world.
And, God also chooses to come to you. Christ chooses to dwell inside you in a very real way; with his very real love, his very real forgiveness, and his very real peace. The Christ child has chosen to dwell in you. This is something to ponder.
All Scripture quotes are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyrighted, 1989 by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the U.S.A., and is used by permission. All rights reserved.
Monday, December 15, 2008
Reflection on John 1:6-8, 19-28
This morning as the light broke into the world, it was one of the most beautiful things I had ever seen. As the light crested the edge of the world, it spilled through the trees, glimmering through the ice, spreading its light in a bright glow, making the trees look like God had just then created them, their life force beaming for all to see. It looked just as one imagines the tree of life did just on the verge of creation; beaming a light that touches all the world with God’s goodness.
I wish I had thought to grab a camera to show you. But, I was captivated, as I always am, when God paints the world with joy. I wish that you had been there to see it with me. Though, standing next to me, in my bathroom, staring out the window, probably would have been strange.
I wish I were a poet so that I could share it better; using eloquent words to effectively put you right there in the moment. But, I have done what I can. I have simply pointed to something beautiful and wonderful, and I hope that God will give you the chance to experience the same joy and awe. I cannot do any more than that. I cannot recreate it for you. I am not the light. I can only point to the light. I cannot do any more.
None of us can do any more. Not even John. People are flocking to this man John, out in the wilderness to experience something great and refreshing and new in their faith. They have been told that it is worth the journey. Out there, you will find great joy, peace, and hope. And so, the religious leaders send people to investigate.
“Who are you John. Are you saying you are the Messiah? Are you saying you are great? Who are you?”
“I’m sorry to disappoint," John says. "I know you have traveled a long way on foot, but I will share the same thing I share with everyone. I’m not the Messiah. I’m not Elijah. I’m not a prophet. I’m nothing at all. All I can do is this.”
And at that, he sticks out his finger and he points. He just stands there and points. He is a man, in the middle of the desert, sand swirling around him, pointing. To this day, that is all that John does. Look at any painting of him in any art gallery. He just stands there and points. Even as a baby, who cannot even lift his own head, cradled in the arms of Elizabeth, he lays limp, pointing at the baby Jesus next to him. That’s all we can do also. And, I find comfort in that.
As Christmas approaches, I find the pressure to create the best Christmas for those I love mounting. “This year, I will buy the present that will bring tears to her eyes." "I will discover the gifts that will bring joy that last for days to the little ones." "This year, I will create the dinner that all will remember; a time of laughter and healing for those who have been battered through the year." "This year, I will make all things great.”
I find it comforting to see a man in the middle of the desert pointing, and nothing more. He cannot save people from their hurts. He cannot bring joy that will heal all wounds. He can only do one thing, point to the one who can.
I cannot bring you the light of the world this morning. I cannot gather and carry its rays or devise some way or some contraption that will create its life giving light. I can only point.
Like all other years, we will not be able to heal any wounds. Aunt Anna will still hate Uncle Bill and she will let him know it at the Christmas dinner table as she always does by “accidentally” spilling gravy on him once again this year, and it will once again squash the little joy that a holiday ham can create. We cannot stop that. We cannot heal them. But, we know who can. And we can point to him, laying in the manger under the tree.
We cannot comfort Grandma as she once again misses not having her only love there to give her a gift and share a place by the warm fire. For her, it will be another cold time of year. We cannot stop that. We cannot take his place. We cannot give her the light that will warm her heart. But, we can point to the one who can. We can point to the lights on the tree and remind her of the light of the world; the light that is able to warm hearts and make life new.
Christmas itself is unable to bring light and peace to the world. Christmas comes every year. And every year, war and hate still continues. But, it is not celebrated for no reason. It points. It stands in the middle of our dark and deserted, wind blown lives and points to the one who will make it new.
None of us are worthy to untie the sandals of Christ, the light of the world. And, it is best if we do not even try. But, we can point. We can point when we see the light cresting the edge of the world and spilling its light on all. We can point when God’s love comes into our world. We can point, preparing the way, so that when love spills on the world, all are awake to see it glimmering on our skin, piercing our hearts, and warming our souls. Like John, we can point to Christ.
All Scripture quotes are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyrighted, 1989 by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the U.S.A., and is used by permission. All rights reserved.
I wish I had thought to grab a camera to show you. But, I was captivated, as I always am, when God paints the world with joy. I wish that you had been there to see it with me. Though, standing next to me, in my bathroom, staring out the window, probably would have been strange.
I wish I were a poet so that I could share it better; using eloquent words to effectively put you right there in the moment. But, I have done what I can. I have simply pointed to something beautiful and wonderful, and I hope that God will give you the chance to experience the same joy and awe. I cannot do any more than that. I cannot recreate it for you. I am not the light. I can only point to the light. I cannot do any more.
None of us can do any more. Not even John. People are flocking to this man John, out in the wilderness to experience something great and refreshing and new in their faith. They have been told that it is worth the journey. Out there, you will find great joy, peace, and hope. And so, the religious leaders send people to investigate.
“Who are you John. Are you saying you are the Messiah? Are you saying you are great? Who are you?”
“I’m sorry to disappoint," John says. "I know you have traveled a long way on foot, but I will share the same thing I share with everyone. I’m not the Messiah. I’m not Elijah. I’m not a prophet. I’m nothing at all. All I can do is this.”
And at that, he sticks out his finger and he points. He just stands there and points. He is a man, in the middle of the desert, sand swirling around him, pointing. To this day, that is all that John does. Look at any painting of him in any art gallery. He just stands there and points. Even as a baby, who cannot even lift his own head, cradled in the arms of Elizabeth, he lays limp, pointing at the baby Jesus next to him. That’s all we can do also. And, I find comfort in that.
As Christmas approaches, I find the pressure to create the best Christmas for those I love mounting. “This year, I will buy the present that will bring tears to her eyes." "I will discover the gifts that will bring joy that last for days to the little ones." "This year, I will create the dinner that all will remember; a time of laughter and healing for those who have been battered through the year." "This year, I will make all things great.”
I find it comforting to see a man in the middle of the desert pointing, and nothing more. He cannot save people from their hurts. He cannot bring joy that will heal all wounds. He can only do one thing, point to the one who can.
I cannot bring you the light of the world this morning. I cannot gather and carry its rays or devise some way or some contraption that will create its life giving light. I can only point.
Like all other years, we will not be able to heal any wounds. Aunt Anna will still hate Uncle Bill and she will let him know it at the Christmas dinner table as she always does by “accidentally” spilling gravy on him once again this year, and it will once again squash the little joy that a holiday ham can create. We cannot stop that. We cannot heal them. But, we know who can. And we can point to him, laying in the manger under the tree.
We cannot comfort Grandma as she once again misses not having her only love there to give her a gift and share a place by the warm fire. For her, it will be another cold time of year. We cannot stop that. We cannot take his place. We cannot give her the light that will warm her heart. But, we can point to the one who can. We can point to the lights on the tree and remind her of the light of the world; the light that is able to warm hearts and make life new.
Christmas itself is unable to bring light and peace to the world. Christmas comes every year. And every year, war and hate still continues. But, it is not celebrated for no reason. It points. It stands in the middle of our dark and deserted, wind blown lives and points to the one who will make it new.
None of us are worthy to untie the sandals of Christ, the light of the world. And, it is best if we do not even try. But, we can point. We can point when we see the light cresting the edge of the world and spilling its light on all. We can point when God’s love comes into our world. We can point, preparing the way, so that when love spills on the world, all are awake to see it glimmering on our skin, piercing our hearts, and warming our souls. Like John, we can point to Christ.
All Scripture quotes are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyrighted, 1989 by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the U.S.A., and is used by permission. All rights reserved.
Reflection on Isaiah 40:1-11
Psychologists call them sneaky thoughts, and we have them all the time. They sound something like the following: Your elderly grandmother tells you that she has decided to take a cruise out of Florida to Costa Rica and then she is going to take a three mile hike through the rainforest, and before you know it you think these words to yourself, “Yeah right, if the flight down to Florida doesn’t rattle your bones apart first.”
Or, your wayward, brat of an adult daughter tells you that she is thinking of having another baby and the thought goes through your head, “Sure, because Satan certainly needs more demons running around.”
The thoughts just pop in there. They are sneaky thoughts. You would never even think of saying something like, “you can loose more weight if you think that a bag of sticks is sexy,” to your best friend. But your brain just pops the little evil comments up there. They are personal comments for you to savor alone. “That’s a great dress, for a prostitute.”
Everyone has them. No one really thinks too much about them except when they accidentally come out,
“Pastor, look at that stomach. It looks like you’re three months along.”
However, we do think of them as a big deal if they are spoken about God. God knows the heart after-all. God knows every word of the mind, and the fear is that these sneaky thoughts about God will come back to haunt us.
“Christ you think your so perfect, try being me for a while.”
“What if I don’t want to worship you, what you going to do? Give me a nice house and a nice car like my neighbors. Please don’t punish me.”
“A God of justice…pffff.”
Of course, God has big shoulders and can take it; but letting them slip into the mind still seems a little disturbing.
Isaiah lets a big one not only slip into his mind, but slip out of his mouth while talking to God. God promises that he is going to forgive and rebuild Israel. God was going to punish no longer. “Comfort, O comfort my people,” God gently promises. “Preach this good news Isaiah,” God says. And out of nowhere Isaiah lets it slip, “God, are you an idiot?”
OK, you can look in your Bibles and you will not find the words, “God, are you an idiot,” printed there. But Isaiah does basically say, “What’s the point. People are like grass that just turns brown and ugly. Then you restore them and then they just turn brown and ugly again. What is the point of preaching any good news to them? What is the point of telling them things will be better when they are just going to mess it up again.” “Oh, you just broke a crystal Christmas ornament by feeding it to the dog? Here have another.” “That’s just dumb.”
This is the same sneaky thought that I have when I hear Jesus tell us that we need to forgive seventy times seven times (in other words, we always have to forgive). “What’s the point if they are just going to do it again?” I think to myself.
If we came to church based on the greatness of the people, I agree with Isaiah, “What’s the point of even coming and opening our mouths.” If we proclaimed from the pulpit how great a person becomes if they choose to be a Christian, I would step away right now. I would step away because I know that it is a lie. I would agree with the millions of people out there right now who choose to stay at home with their families rather than wasting time at church, listening to a bunch of hypocrites.
But, the church says nothing about how great people are. People do just wither up and die after getting a second and third and hundredth chance. They are like grass that will certainly just go brown.
We come to church to hear the Word that will not die. It is a Word that lasts forever. It is a Word that does not fade. It is God’s Word that says, “sure you guys are a mess, but you are still my people, and I am your God.”
We come to hear the words of a God who practices what is preached. God does forgive seventy times seven times. Christ does die for the sake of people who do not deserve it. The Lord promises to “feed his flock like a shepherd; he will gather the lambs in his arms, and carry them in his bosom, and gently lead the mother sheep.”
God is committed to mess-ups like us. “What’s the point? That’s idiotic isn’t it?” Maybe. But it is the way of our Lord. And we are an Advent people who do not forget it. We wait for God’s goodness to come. And it will. That is something to share.
All Scripture quotes are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyrighted, 1989 by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the U.S.A., and is used by permission. All rights reserved.
Or, your wayward, brat of an adult daughter tells you that she is thinking of having another baby and the thought goes through your head, “Sure, because Satan certainly needs more demons running around.”
The thoughts just pop in there. They are sneaky thoughts. You would never even think of saying something like, “you can loose more weight if you think that a bag of sticks is sexy,” to your best friend. But your brain just pops the little evil comments up there. They are personal comments for you to savor alone. “That’s a great dress, for a prostitute.”
Everyone has them. No one really thinks too much about them except when they accidentally come out,
“Pastor, look at that stomach. It looks like you’re three months along.”
However, we do think of them as a big deal if they are spoken about God. God knows the heart after-all. God knows every word of the mind, and the fear is that these sneaky thoughts about God will come back to haunt us.
“Christ you think your so perfect, try being me for a while.”
“What if I don’t want to worship you, what you going to do? Give me a nice house and a nice car like my neighbors. Please don’t punish me.”
“A God of justice…pffff.”
Of course, God has big shoulders and can take it; but letting them slip into the mind still seems a little disturbing.
Isaiah lets a big one not only slip into his mind, but slip out of his mouth while talking to God. God promises that he is going to forgive and rebuild Israel. God was going to punish no longer. “Comfort, O comfort my people,” God gently promises. “Preach this good news Isaiah,” God says. And out of nowhere Isaiah lets it slip, “God, are you an idiot?”
OK, you can look in your Bibles and you will not find the words, “God, are you an idiot,” printed there. But Isaiah does basically say, “What’s the point. People are like grass that just turns brown and ugly. Then you restore them and then they just turn brown and ugly again. What is the point of preaching any good news to them? What is the point of telling them things will be better when they are just going to mess it up again.” “Oh, you just broke a crystal Christmas ornament by feeding it to the dog? Here have another.” “That’s just dumb.”
This is the same sneaky thought that I have when I hear Jesus tell us that we need to forgive seventy times seven times (in other words, we always have to forgive). “What’s the point if they are just going to do it again?” I think to myself.
If we came to church based on the greatness of the people, I agree with Isaiah, “What’s the point of even coming and opening our mouths.” If we proclaimed from the pulpit how great a person becomes if they choose to be a Christian, I would step away right now. I would step away because I know that it is a lie. I would agree with the millions of people out there right now who choose to stay at home with their families rather than wasting time at church, listening to a bunch of hypocrites.
But, the church says nothing about how great people are. People do just wither up and die after getting a second and third and hundredth chance. They are like grass that will certainly just go brown.
We come to church to hear the Word that will not die. It is a Word that lasts forever. It is a Word that does not fade. It is God’s Word that says, “sure you guys are a mess, but you are still my people, and I am your God.”
We come to hear the words of a God who practices what is preached. God does forgive seventy times seven times. Christ does die for the sake of people who do not deserve it. The Lord promises to “feed his flock like a shepherd; he will gather the lambs in his arms, and carry them in his bosom, and gently lead the mother sheep.”
God is committed to mess-ups like us. “What’s the point? That’s idiotic isn’t it?” Maybe. But it is the way of our Lord. And we are an Advent people who do not forget it. We wait for God’s goodness to come. And it will. That is something to share.
All Scripture quotes are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyrighted, 1989 by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the U.S.A., and is used by permission. All rights reserved.
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