Tuesday, June 8, 2010

The Pot Calling the Kettle Black

Luke 7:36-50

The most fun part of studying the Bible is the questioning part. Have you ever noticed that there are so many things left unexplained in stories? Maybe that’s so you and I can insert ourselves to make it apply to us today. But that’s also the hard part. Sometimes it is difficult to recognize we are all the characters in the stories.

Who would think they are the Pharisee in this story? Yet, how inhospitable have we been to Jesus? How many times have we looked down our noses at “sinners” and wonder how Jesus can tolerate them? The Pharisee didn’t see his own sin. He violated the social norm of the day when he showed no honor to his guest. He did not wash his guest's feet, greet him with a kiss, or anoint his head with oil. In that culture, this is what you did to show respect for your guest.

In addition to her sin, (another question left unanswered - what sin is so apparent that Jesus should recognize it without knowing her?), the Pharisee condemns the woman for violating social norms. Women were not supposed to touch men in public settings. The pot was calling the kettle “black.” That's why Jesus pointed out the Pharisee's shortcomings he could not see in himself.

The woman (the SINNER) showed greater hospitality. She never stopped serving her Lord. She is ignoring the criticism, letting it fall like water off a duck’s back. She doesn't react to it in self-defense. Is that how we react to criticism when it is coming from those who stand on soap boxes of righteousness?

Isn’t it odd that she’s crying? There’s no reason given. Some might say she’s repenting. Maybe, maybe not. She doesn’t say she’s going to “sin no more.” Maybe she’s heard the religious authorities are plotting to kill this compassionate teacher, as they killed most prophets who didn’t proclaim the doctrines of the tradition.

The best part of the story for me is Jesus’ short lesson to the Pharisee. Two debtors. (I’m having a hard time deciding which one of the debtors, Pharisee or woman, has the greatest sin.) Yet the Creditor cancelled the debts of both. It appears that the Creditor made this decision without any conditions being met by either of the debtors - except their helplessness to repay.

What a breathtaking picture of grace! The pot and the kettle have both been washed clean. May we see ourselves as the sinner with the largest debt that has been wiped away, and respond with the same degree of love for the Creditor. Let’s go into the world and serve Jesus. He’s in the hungry, the thirsty, the poor, the sick, and the imprisoned.

Grace and peace - PWM

Saturday, May 29, 2010

Suffering

Romans 5:1-15


I found this story on the internet: One evening, Batman and Robin decided to go camping. They set up their tent and were fast asleep. A couple of hours later, Batman woke up his faithful friend and said, "Robin, look up at the sky and tell me what you see."
Robin, who was used to these midnight lessons, replies, "I see millions of stars."
Batman asks, “What does that tell you?”

Robin ponders for a minute, then says, “Astronomically speaking, it tells me that there are millions of galaxies and potentially billions of planets. Astrologically, it tells me that Saturn is in Leo. Chronologically, it appears to be approximately a quarter past three. Theologically, it's evident that God is all-powerful and we are small and insignificant. Meteorologically, it seems we will have a beautiful day tomorrow. What does it tell you, Batman?"


Batman is silent for a moment, then speaks: "Robin, you're an idiot, it means somebody stole our tent while we were sleeping."

I see a parallel story that looks like this:

     A Bishop and one of the preachers in his synod were riding a train on the “L” in Chicago. As they passed a rundown area of the windy city, the Bishop said to the preacher, “Preacher, look out the window and tell me what you see.”
The preacher, who was used to these pontifical lessons replied, “I see many streets with cardboard boxes that have people living in them.”
The Bishop said, “And what does that mean?”

The preacher pondered for a minute, and then said, “Theologically, I see a world of brokenness and sin that makes God unhappy. Ontologically, I see the absence of God in places where suffering seems most intense. Anthropologically, I see how human groups separate themselves from those who are not like them. Philosophically, I see there are those who simply find no meaning in life. And psychologically, I see that it is difficult for people to raise themselves up when they are scraping the bottom of the barrel. What does it tell you, Bishop?”


The Bishop was silent for a moment, then speaks: “Preacher, you’re an idiot. It means people are still hungry and cold and suffering in the richest country in the world.”


To me it says we make religion too much about what is in our heads instead of what it is in our hearts.


Our Christian calling is to relieve pain, and hunger, and suffering in the world. Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately (according to the apostle Paul), what we do for Christ will bring a different kind of suffering.

There are two kinds of suffering. One is the kind that comes from injustice, from treating certain people as lower forms of life because of the color of their skin, because of the country of their ancestry, because of their gender, because they are not in the same economic bracket as them, or because of the political party they vote for.

People find all kinds of reasons to separate themselves from others. They malign the integrity and worth of others and find ways to treat them with disgust. That’s called human nature. That’s called being of the world. When you contribute to suffering in the world, you are of the world. It doesn’t matter if you belong to a church. To contribute to suffering and separation is to be of the world.

On the other hand, when you and I attempt to relieve suffering brought about by the world, we are no longer of the world but we are in Christ. Yet, we need to be aware that as we begin the work of relieving that suffering, you and I will experience the suffering of the cross of Jesus Christ. The cross we bear for Christ is to fight so that all people can have food on the table, and clothes on their back, and a roof over their head, and respect as unique creations of God.

The world will fight, tooth and nail, to continue the injustices that bring pain, and hunger, and imprisonment, and inequality because Injustice is the demon who doesn’t want to disappear. Our call in baptism is to follow Jesus into the world, and to change a world that thrives on inequality, and unequal treatment of people. When we fight injustice, we should expect to suffer for it.

Jesus said in his sermon on the mount, “Blessed are you when you are persecuted for doing what is right, for yours is the kingdom of God. Blessed are you when they revile and persecute you, and say all kinds of evil against you falsely for my sake. Rejoice and be exceedingly glad, for great is your reward in heaven” (Matt. 5:10-12).

The hard part about all this is that you can only know the joy and the peace this brings after you’ve already arrived. Maybe that’s the reason more people don’t attempt it. They can’t understand that being persecuted for doing the right thing is beneficial to us. The only way to get there is to trust what Jesus and St. Paul said. We have to live by faith that the cross will bring life and peace.

God’s special rewards come after we exercise faith and trust, which can only happen when we don’t know the outcome. One of those wonderful rewards is peace. A peace in your heart. A peace that passes all understanding. You see, that, too, you can’t know until you’ve arrived.

C. S. Lewis once said that the most frequently spoken word in heaven would be, "OH." As in, "Oh, now I understand." Or, "Oh, now I see what God's plan was." Or, "Oh, now I see the reason for the trial I went through."

Jesus endured his suffering because he had faith in his Father. Suffering was heaped upon him for doing his Father's work. Pharisees said his power came from Baalzebub when he relieved the suffering of others. This suffering brought the endurance that made it possible for him to live at peace with himself, while at the same time, accomplishing the work that had been set before him. Suffering produces endurance; endurance produces character, and character produces hope.

Our desire for peace does not necessarily ensure peace. But it gets us started in the right direction, toward following Jesus Christ, and continuing his work of relieving suffering. Suffering in this way is not to be feared. For this will bring you endurance, and that endurance will produce character in you, and that character will bring hope…not just hope for you, but it will bring hope to those who are outcast, and rejected, and scorned by the world.

You will be following Christ into the world. You will be Christ in the world, and yours will be the kingdom of God.

Peace - PWM

Tuesday, May 25, 2010

Truth

John 16:12-15


“The Spirit of truth will guide you into all truth.” You mean the truth is not in printed form? When the truth is in printed form and called inerrant, it can be used to manipulate and control. Why give up a tool like that? And didn’t Jesus say he was the truth?

For me, this is the key. Jesus is the truth. Once you get that, all other things will start to fall into place. The biggest is that Jesus shows us the Father. Good all the time. When Jesus is the Word and God is good all the time, the printed word becomes the means through which the Spirit speaks truth to each of our hearts. One verse can mean one thing to you and another thing to me. The only absolute is Jesus and his revelation of the Father.

Your world will become a more peaceable place when you trust Jesus and the Father are one.


Peace - PWM

Wednesday, May 5, 2010

More wonderful than Jesus

John 14:23-29

This is becoming one of my favorite gospel passages, specifically verse 28. “You heard me say to you, ‘I am going away, and I am coming to you.’ If you loved me, you would rejoice that I am going to the Father,’ because the Father is greater than I.”

This passage presented more questions than peace for me until I discovered the Greek word for greater could also be translated as more wonderful. Now it makes perfect sense to me. In fact, it is the good news in a nutshell: the Father is more wonderful than Jesus. I like that picture. It’s a picture the church ought to be sharing more often with the world.

One of Martin Luther’s repeated claims in his sermons of the Church Postil was that people were attracted to Jesus because they heard he was kind, he was able to help them, and he desired to help them. People weren’t afraid of Jesus. He didn’t wield the Law and threaten them with eternal destruction.

If the church wants to be a light that attracts people like moths to a flame, it should work harder to become a hospital for the wounded and an oasis in the desert. Sometimes I think it looks more like a guard checking everyone’s I.D. before it allows passage through the gates of the Garden of Eden.

God the Father is more wonderful than Jesus. God is good ALL the time. That’s the good news more people need to hear. It’s a salve on open wounds. It’s a cold drink of water on a parched tongue.

This is the God everyone can love, worship, and serve.

PWM

Friday, April 30, 2010

Love that Glorifies God

John 13:31-35

I’m such a Greek definition junkie, it’s frightening. Who defines these words anyway? And more important, why do the various translations choose different words? The only way anyone can insert the ‘right’ English word in place of the Greek is based on their personal theology of the nature of God.

Anyway, the two words in this text that grabbed me by the throat and told me to look them up were “love” and “glorify.” I’ve researched "love" before. Yet my mind understood something a little different this time. Agape is the kind of love that is founded in esteem, admiration, veneration. Some other words are: to acquiesce/agree/consent/submit with satisfaction, and to cherish with reverence. There is a sense of inner feeling present. This is the kind of love we need to give God with all our heart and soul and mind. Because we esteem them, we choose to act toward the wellbeing of the person we love.

Phileo (brotherly love) is that kind of love that involves some emotion and affection. You like them. This is closer to friendship, and can overlap with agape when that feeling involves deeper bonds of family relationships.


Jesus’ command is that we agape each other. We are commanded to esteem, admire, venerate, acquiesce, agree, consent, submit with satisfaction, cherish with reverence – one another. And the same is true with our neighbor, and our enemies. How do we do that? Since it's a command, we have to work at it.

Jesus gave us the ultimate example when he demonstrated esteem for the disciple planning to betray him in the story immediately before this one. Jesus consented to Judas for the person he was. He did not treat Judas any different from his ‘friends.’ Jesus submitted, as a Servant, to wash Judas’ feet. Then he ate a meal with Judas. He continues to invite all who act against him into relationship.

Jesus did not make a spectacle of Judas for what he was about to do. He did not openly bring dishonor to Judas. Judas did that to himself. Although he let Judas know he knew what was about to happen, Jesus consented to the person of Judas to the bitter end.

After Judas left the room, Jesus indicated that what he had just done has caused him to be glorified. "To glorify" means to give importance, to praise, to honor. This incredible display of love, washing the feet and welcoming the person preparing to turn him over to the authorities to his table, brings honor to Jesus.

And through Jesus, God is honored as One who serves sinners and welcomes all of us when we betray Jesus. The invitation remains open to the table of grace every week. God desires a new covenantal relationship. God is not angry. God is love.

I think we can see ourselves in every person mentioned in Scripture. I don’t often think of myself as Judas. But anytime I do not esteem, admire, or cherish with reverence my brother or sister in Christ, I betray Jesus and his new command. The world cannot see Christ in a church embroiled in internal warfare. It sees Judas. I am Judas when I advance any cause that is anti-Christ, which is whatever goes against love. Lord have mercy.


PWM

Friday, April 23, 2010

Gazelle

Acts 9:36-43

I can think of many Tabithas that have graced church sanctuaries and served within the walls of church buildings. Tabitha is a name that in Aramaic means “a female gazelle” and its counterpart in Greek, Dorcas, also means gazelle. When I think of the animal, the gazelle, I think of an animal that is sleek and beautiful and fast and vulnerable. It has no aggressiveness against other species and no means of defense, other than its ability to run from danger. And sometimes it’s not fast enough to get away from the predator that stalks it. Psalm 23 reminds us that the predator that stalks us all is death. “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death – I will fear no evil – for you are with me.”

I can think of many Tabithas outside the church, too. We are all gazelle. Vulnerable to the predator and to the conditions of life that force us to move on to new pastures. Some of those pastures are heavenly. The family and friends in our lives who leave this world for their heavenly home.

And then there are other family and friends who leave for pastures like new jobs, new schools, new options for retirement, new congregations. Some of these options are not always choices we want to make, but the circumstances of life require us to make changes. Tornados swoop down upon us, forcing adjustments to our plans. The economy torpedoes our plans for retirement. Health problems divert the plans we set for ourselves. The course of life itself sends children away from the nest to build their own nests. And we are forced to adjust to the change. We may not be happy with change, but life is change.

To complain about change is to complain about life. It’s only when things do not change that the predator who seeks your life can sneak up behind you and capture you. I don’t simply mean death to your body. I mean death to your spirit, death to a life that is rich and full of purpose.

The story of Tabitha reminds me that nothing in life stays the same. She was a beloved member of the community at Joppa. Tabitha had heard Jesus’ voice. She was one of his sheep. Her good works were a testimony to her love for her Lord. The text says she was a disciple devoted to good works and to charity. She was doing exactly what Jesus said he was doing in the Gospel lesson. He said, “The works that I do in my Father’s name testify to me.”

Tabitha’s good works in her church and community testified to the One she followed. She left a legacy that others could point to – a legacy of good works and things that could be seen and touched and told about – tunics, and clothing, articles for good that she made with her own hands and gave to others. Tabitha used her talents and resources to help others. The widows were very upset that she had died. I think about James 1:17 when I hear that, “Religion that is acceptable to the Father is this: to care for orphans and widows in their distress, and to keep oneself unstained by the world.”


Yet life changes quickly. You may be the best disciple of Jesus Christ in your community, but that isn’t going to stop the reality that death comes to us all. We are all gazelle. Good works and acts of love do not extend our lives. We are all going to die. Just like Tabitha.


I have to admit that the raising of Tabitha from the dead by Peter is an unanswered question in my mind. How am I to understand this to apply to me, and you, today? I can only see it as a sign that was needed in that day for the growth of the early church, that a miracle of supernatural proportions was able to be seen and told. But still I ask, don’t we need those kind of miracles today, too? And what does it take to make them happen? Maybe it just takes eyes of faith that see them happening. Surely there were people who lived in Tabithas neighborhood who said, “She really wasn’t dead. She was alive but you just couldn’t tell it.” It takes eyes of faith to recognize the miracles that take place every day.

There’s another part of the story that I think is important. When Tabitha died, there was a sense of great loss in her community. Just like there is a sense of great loss when anyone in our family dies, or leaves home because of transitions from high school to college, or daughter to wife, or son into the military, and when people leave their church family. What will we miss? What legacy have they left behind in their absence?

It makes me think about the legacy I will leave when I die, or when the conditions of life force me to make changes. What legacy will you leave behind that those who remain in your family, in your neighborhood, in this flock of gazelle – that they will point to and grieve in your absence?


This weekend, my congregation is taking pictures for a new pictorial directory. When we compare it to the one we produced four years ago, we will see there have been many changes. When we also compare pictures of the days when this church began 25 years ago, we will see far more changes. Many new gazelle have come, and many have gone. That’s life. We are not here to stop change. We are not here to stop life. We are here to share the good news of God in Jesus Christ and to help each other as we make our way through the conditions life brings to us.

And we do that best when we devote ourselves, like Tabitha, to good works and charity. We have heard Jesus’ voice. We know him, and he knows us. He is our Good Shepherd who walks with us through the valley of the shadow of death so that we fear no evil. The rod and staff of his word guides us whenever we get off the straight and narrow. And he leads us to green pastures where there is peace, and to paths of righteousness for his namesake. Goodness and mercy follow us all the days of our lives. And we will dwell in the house of the Lord forever, because Christ has removed the predator. Death no longer will hold us. And he will raise us at the last day.

Thanks be to God for goodness and mercy in Christ Jesus. Like Tabitha, may we be devoted to good works and charity.

Peace - PWM

Thursday, April 15, 2010

Wha Do Ya Love Me...Now that I can dance......

Wha Do You Love Me? Do ya love me…
Wha Do You Love Me? Do ya love me…
Wha Do You Love Me? Do ya love me…
Now that I can dance….Watch me now…           
John 21:1-19      

The Beatles and a hundred other artists have sung the same song. Peter, the Rock, and a billion Christians have danced around that question.

Three times Jesus asked, “Do you love me?” Peter said the right words back each time. That sounds like a conversation between me and my wife. She usually has to tell me she loves me first if she wants to hear me say it to her. “Of course, I love you. You know I love you.” I’m so bad. Of course I love her. So why don’t I take more initiative and say it before it’s required of me? Must be about self-centeredness, as usual.

We know the right words to say to Jesus when we are asked. “Yes, we love you Jesus.” Then Jesus says, “Okay, if you love me, then this is what I want you to do. Feed and tend my sheep. Take care of them.” Take some initiative. Love is more than words. Love is verb. Love is an action. Love is a commitment of time, money, and energy to feed and tend his sheep.


Okay, who are the sheep? I suppose that’s a question just like the lawyer’s question, ‘who is my neighbor.’ So I won’t go there.

One of the major and recurring themes in Martin Luther’s sermons was his emphasis that we love God best, most directly, when we love our neighbor. 

I think John Wesley summarized the Old Testament commandments well – in just three words – “do no harm.” That’s a good synopsis of the wisdom of the ages for helping people to get along with each other in peace and harmony. Do no harm. Wesley did not claim that this was the sum total of the Law. It's part of the way there. Doing no harm is a glass that’s half full.
Jesus on the other hand gives us clear instructions in what to do if we love him. The other half of the glass requires that we take the initiative to care for our neighbor who is in need, and the stranger among us, and in Jesus’ interpretation: even for our enemies. “Feed my lambs. Tend my sheep. Provide for their needs.”

‘Feed my lambs’ doesn’t mean we should just let the hungry and poor alone so they can fend for themselves. Loving Jesus is not about “If they can make it without me causing them harm, good; but if they can’t make it, it’s not my problem.” That’s dancing around the question. It is our problem if they are hungry. The book of James tells us that if we know the good we are supposed to do and don’t do it, that is sin (James 4:17).


People should be able to look at your life and know if you love Jesus. We should look at our own lives every week and be able to tell whether or not we loved Jesus this week. He is in the sick, the poor, the hungry, the naked, the imprisoned.


Do your actions reveal your love for your Lord? Or are you dancing around the question? Instead of saying, “Of course I love you Jesus,” say this to him, “Watch me now…”


Blessings,
PWM