From What Vantage Point Do You Want to See Jesus?

Do you want to see Jesus? Do you really want to? Well then it’s very likely that it’ll cost you your life—at least the life you’ve always imagined. In our gospel reading today, Phillip and Andrew approach Jesus on the heels of his death with a request. Some Greeks who were in town for the Passover Feast are interested in seeing him. I’ve always been fascinated by Jesus’s answer.  It seems as if he doesn’t even acknowledge the request—like he completely skirts the issue and ignores the Greeks and their desire to see him. He doesn’t say, “Yes, send them unto me” or “No, I cannot right now.”  Instead his answer seems rather cryptic.

The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified. Very truly I tell you, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds. Anyone who loves their life will lose it, while anyone who hates their life in this world will keep it for eternal life. Whoever serves me must follow me; and where I am, my servant also will be. My Father will honor the one who serves me.

Maybe Jesus apparently ignored them because their interest in getting a sneak peek at him wasn’t so much a desire to get to know him and what he was about but a desire to say they’d see him. That they’d seen this popular rabbi everyone in the world was talking about and looking for and wanting to get a piece of, this rabbi that the authorities wanted to get rid of. Maybe they wanted to see for themselves just what “all the fuss was about.”

But Jesus wouldn’t be treated like a piece of meat or some kind of freak show or circus clown act. He was not some tourist destination or attraction or trap. He wasn’t on display, there to entertain and sign autographs like celebrities or characters at Disney World.

The more and more I thought about it this week, the more I thought that he did grant their request—just not in that moment or in the way that they or anyone else expected. I have a sneaking, though unconfirmed suspicion, that they did end up seeing him. Maybe, just maybe, they saw him put to death on the cross—crushed yet high and lifted up.  If so, they had a lot more to think or gossip about – a story to consider. Perhaps in the end they believed he turned out to be nothing at all but a common and cursed criminal. I don’t know.

Perhaps we’ve desired to see Jesus and have even prayed fervently to see him. I believe the Lord will grant our requests. But we must remember that God doesn’t always allow us to choose the vantage points from which we see him. We don’t always call the shots of when and where we’ll see him, aside from creation. And his presence and the mystery of creation is enough to keep us perpetually awestruck. As Elizabeth Barrett Browning writes, “Earth is crammed with heaven and every bush aflame with God, But only those who see take off their shoes.”

Truth be told, if God gave us a sneak peek into how he would grant our request to see him, to see Jesus, many of us might just respond like the rich young ruler and walk away quite downcast and down trodden.

Particular Love

Imagine that you have recently moved to a big city for a new job. I am thinking about a place like the heart of New York City. Imagine that every day you had to use the elevator in your tall, tall, sky-scraper of an apartment building in order exit the building and make your way to work. In order to make it to work slightly before your 8:30 a.m. start time, you have to hit the street at 7:40 a.m. and then walk a few blocks to the metro station to make your connection. That means your goal is to be in the elevator between 7:30 and 7:35 a.m.
Your routine has become precise like clockwork. You’ve figured out how to get yourself into that elevator between 7:30 and 7:35. Now I ask, what do you notice? I think you notice the speed of the elevator, every bump and button and stop you have to make on the way down. The smell. And well of course, the people: your fellow elevator travelers. The lady with her three-year oldish son. You imagine they’re on their way to child care. Zak the 30 something dressed in business attire who mostly keeps to himself. He wears fine smelling cologne. Maria—you learn she teaches 3^rd grade at the school two blocks down the street. Vivian, a lady of grandmotherly age who strikes up a conversation. You learn she swims every morning at the downtown Y.  That explains her beach bag and towel. Then there’s Charles. He’s close to Vivian’s age and a bit gruff. He reminds you of your grandfather.You see that he has a uniform on. You learn that after retirement from a local company he keeps busy as a delivery man. And there’s Ahmed. After several weeks of riding in the elevator together you discover he is a muslim and a heart surgeon—he’s finishing up his last clinical rotation at New York Presbyterian University Hospital of Columbia and Cornell—New York Presby for short.
Every day you look forward to riding the elevator with you new-found acquaintances. You know the floor each of them lives on—since you’re the one highest up you catch them on the way down. When one of them doesn’t show up, you’re secretly disappointed and a bit worried. You wonder if they’re sick or just late. When they turn up again, you hope for an explanation but don’t bother to pry. It’s not that kind of a relationship. Yet, you delight in their presence and each tiny morsel of information you gather about your companions. It’s a way of getting to know them. They keep you company in the loneliness of being new in a large and strange city. They have no idea how much they mean to you. However, you’re not at all sure if they feel the same way.
In John 15, Jesus says to us as he said to the disciples: "I've told you these things for a purpose: that my joy might be your joy, and your joy wholly mature. This is my command: Love one another the way I loved you. This is the very best way to love. Put your life on the line for your friends. You are my friends when you do the things I command you. I'm no longer calling you servants because servants don't understand what their master is thinking and planning. No, I've named you friends because I've let you in on everything I've heard from the Father (The Message Version).
Jesus is not an elevator friend. On the contrary, he told his disciples and he tells us, “You are more than a servant.” I’ve called you friends. That means he’s letting us in on his life just as we let him in on our life. What a special word, the word, friend. When someone deems me a friend, that places me on a different level than other people. There are intimacies we share.
Are you intimate with Jesus? He’s a friend as well as the Lord your God and brother. Or do you merely see him through servant eyes? Now that is something to consider: your view of God. Each one of us has to come to terms with our view of God because that determines our very life.
But this morning I have another question. Are you more than “elevator friends” with those in this wonderful church? Or is your relationship with those surrounding you one of limited familiarity? The kind of limited familiarity you’d have with elevator friends? Perhaps you can recite some facts about each other, and even know where some work or some vacation or some volunteer. You note when someone is absent from church. But I ask about your life together outside of Sunday morning? Do you have fellowship outside of Sunday morning?  Or is this a Sunday morning elevator experience? What about shared intimacies, the kind families have? Do you have that with one another?
John 15 says there has to be a growing love, a laying down of our lives for one another. And earlier, in John 13:35 Jesus tells us that the world will know we are his disciples by the love we show one another, the sacrificial laying down of our lives sort of love. The world will not know we are his disciples merely by our Sunday morning gathering alone. Sunday mornings are to be an extension of our love for God and our love for one another.
We are to be permeated by love not idealize it.
Such love and intimacy that Jesus speaks of, the love and intimacy among like-family friends takes time to cultivate.  I am not saying anything new. Most of us know this, but as Eugene Peterson says, “…it is possible, and not only possible but common, to think rightly and live badly, live impersonally….Knowledge does not turn into acts of love automatically.” [1] He says we can behave impeccably yet live selfishly and badly.[2]
We might think rightly about love and loving our community or even those closest to us, but live love badly.
Love is particular.
We are called to love one another in this community in particular ways, not in the abstract. Are you and I loving or should I say thinking that we’re loving in the abstract? Love is never abstract. Jesus didn’t love his disciples in the abstract nor does he love us in the abstract. He is quite particular with the love he demonstrates to us, his children. He knows each of our love languages. The kind of particular love we are talking about requires effort, patience, sacrifice, and time.
Time.
I know, I know, none of us live and work in the same place. Our lives take us in different directions.  We are running here and there. We have things to do. We need to take care of ourselves, take care of our families and children and run them here and there. Or if we are single or widowed, we spend our time taking care of those closest to us.
Of course there are seasons in life and we may not be able to love and serve in the same way through each season. Nevertheless, in each season we can demonstrate our love for one another—love for those in this particular community and the others God brings along our paths. Not one of us can love only when it’s convenient or only when we feel like it. There’s be very little love flowing from us then.  And besides, there’s too much of that going on already. We see where it has gotten us in this world. Loving can be painful because it calls us to die to ourselves and our own agenda. Death to self, the kind of death that God calls us to daily is a painful experience. We try to protect our without-God life, our own agendas, because they’re comfortable or so we think. But one way Jesus calls us to die is by loving one another. It’s a kind of death that leads to life even if it encroaches on our time. But really isn’t our time to be one of our gifts to God?
.

---

[1] Peterson, Eugene, Christ Plays in Ten Thousand Places,313.

[2] Ibid. 314. +

God Leaves Life in His Wake (Beholding and Becoming II)

"Grant that . . . that we may be made like him in his glorious and eternal kingdom.”  (Collect BCP, Year C Sunday closest to November 9)

“For I know that my Redeemer lives, and that at the last he will stand upon the earth; and after my skin has thus been destroyed, then in my flesh I shall see God, whom I shall see on my side, and my eyes shall behold, and not another.” Job 19:25-27

“ But at my vindication, I shall see your face; When I awake, I shall be satisfied, beholding your likeness.” Psalm 16:17

“Indeed they cannot die anymore, because they are like angels and are children of God, being children of the resurrection. And the fact that the dead are raised Moses himself showed, in the story about the bush, where he speaks of the Lord as the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob. Now he is not the God of the dead, but of the living; for to him all of them are alive.” Luke 20:36-38

Lean in and pay close attention to my words. I’ve happened upon the message of my life and perhaps the single most important thing I can tell you. Remember it. Turn it over and over in your mind until it saturates your soul. Until you absorb it and live it. As you do, as you practice this truth, God will perpetually birth new life in you. For it is God who gives life to all living things. And life, God’s life, the eternal life flowing through your veins (if you are in Christ), and through all of creation is indescribably good and beautiful and wholesome and sustaining no matter the circumstance. The apostle Paul and saints throughout the ages attest to this truth.

Here it is:

Pay the utmost attention to God. Set your gaze on him, behold him, see him, do whatever necessary to keep laser focus zeroed in on him. Keep a single eye on him. As you do behold him, you will not conform to the pattern of this world—the pattern of death, but will be transformed by the renewing of your mind (Romans 12:1,2).

More and more you’ll live and breathe life. To change the metaphor, as you behold him, his streams of living water, his life, will continually fill you to the brim and flow through you into the lives of others. Think of it as unleashing a dam of life-giving water. This overwhelming force of gushing water cuts a canyon through hard-rocked souls leaving every form of life in its wake. Not a perfect metaphor by any means. Do forgive me. I’ll work on it. But that’s one picture I have of God’s life in us and in the world. As Jesus says in Luke 20:38, “God is not the God of the dead, but of the living.”

God leaves life in his wake. Not death. Do you believe this?

Job did. After all the hell he went through, despite all he suffered, or maybe because of it? Though certainly none of it was his own fault, he said, “For I know that my Redeemer lives, and that at the last he will stand upon the earth; and after my skin has thus been destroyed, then in my flesh I shall see God, whom I shall see on my side, and my eyes shall behold, and not another.”

As your gaze locks on to God, You will have abundant life (John 10:10). You will become whole, holy--like Christ--conformed into his image (Romans 8:29). As father Greg Boyles says, you will experience the Japanese concept of amae, that is, you will live in a deep sense of being loved and cherished by God. As our eyes are locked on him, God’s love will melt away all in us that is not of him. Again as Father Greg Boyle notes, this is a love that, “. . . melts you. It doesn’t melt who you are but who you are not” (Tattoos on the Heart, 103).

Dallas Willard writes, “I realize that I will either allow my view of evil to determine my view of God and will cut him down accordingly, or I will allow my view of God to determine my view of the evil and will elevate him accordingly, accepting that nothing is beyond his power for good” (Renovation of the Heart, 109-110).

But what if we have bad eyesight? What if we are allowing our view of evil to determine our view of God? What if we are blind? Then we ask God to let us see. We ask for healing. And in the mean time, if we can’t see clearly, we trust those who have better eyesight. My husband Shawn has 20/15 eyesight. I cannot clearly see things that are far away. I prefer that he drive at night and especially when it is dark and raining hard. If we  are in the darkness, because of whatever form of suffering, or because of doubt, or depression, or because we have not held our gaze on God, or for whatever reason, even if it’s not our fault, like it wasn’t Job’s. Listen. Trust the eyesight of those who have better vision.

Granted, I understand that as Paul says, in this life, we see through a glass darkly. But even in this life, there are those who can see better than others. If we are honest with each other, we know this to be true. This is a sober truth. God forbid that we allow ourselves to be lead by blind guides or by those who have poor eyesight. They may be sincere and well-meaning. But they very well might lead us to our death. As Jesus says in Matthew 6:22, “The eye is the lamp of the body. If your eyes are healthy, your whole body will be full of light.”

May I offer practical ways to behold God? These are not exhaustive and in no particular order.

1. Scripture Reading and Memorization
2. Reading books
3. Beholding the beauty of Creation
4. Beholding the beauty of others
5. Contemplating the good, the true, and the beautiful in whatever form
6. Through lovely or even heart-wrenchingly beautiful music
7. Through little children
8. Through art
9. Through Church History and sayings fo the saints
10. Our employment
11. Through service to others, especially the poor
12. Through Prayer
13. By contemplating God's attributes
14. Through the elderly
15. Through the body of Christ
16. Through Christ

*There are many other ways. Perhaps you can share some with us.

Blessings to You.

Transfiguration. Transformation. Metamorphosis.

A part of my meditation on the transfiguration.
For Transfiguration Sunday 2011

"After six days Jesus took with him Peter, James and John the brother of James, and led them up a high mountain by themselves. There he was transfigured before them. His face shone like the sun, and his clothes became as white as the light."  Matthew 17:1-3.

How about us? Are we being transfigured? Are we being changed? Is it earth-shattering although admittedly most often gradual? Do we peek through our fingers with fear and trembling and wonder as we look back over what Jesus has done in us individually and as a church, at what he is doing, and at what the future might hold?


If not why not? Earth-shattering change, transformation, transfiguration, though gradual is perceptible is it not? If we are ho-humming through life, yawning at the holy, at Jesus, asleep in the light, or drowning in our sins while we show up to church every Sunday, then something is deathly wrong. We’re not following Jesus. We’re either spiritually sick or dead. And that is hell. We’re like the frogs being boiled alive in the pot and not knowing it. Paul would tell us to examine ourselves to see if we are actually in the faith.

Listen. While everyday in our life in Christ isn’t a mountaintop transfiguration experience, everyday is pregnant with the divine. Pregnant with life and wonder. Every day is supernatural. What might transfiguration or metamorphosis look like in such a life?

If once you were a nag, but now are not—isn’t that earth shattering? If once your goal was to live a comfortable life and then retire in middle class America but are now sacrificing or want to sacrifice for the good of others—if you do what you didn’t want to because you are following Jesus--then that’s transfiguration.

If you were secretly addicted to porn or sex or approval or alcohol or self-injury, or popularity, or success, or work or self and now are set free from such things or in the process of being set free from such things or wanting to be set free from such things—that is transfiguration. Were you once a very angry person or in perpetual despair? And now you’re loving and kind, others-directed and seeing glimmers of hope? If your body is getting old or your mind is getting old and you're bearing it with grace or starting to bear it with grace or wanting to bear it with grace, If so—let’s say it together—transfiguration. One more time--transfiguration. You are changing and looking more like Christ, you are starting to glow with the life of Christ in you—glow like Moses did when he came down from Mount Sinai. You may not see it, but God does and others do or will.

Let me tell you, if we are truly following Jesus, every time we think we have him figured out, he’ll throw us a curve ball—like he did Peter James and John. For no matter how hard they tried, they couldn’t control him or what happened while with him. And neither can we. But as we follow him—transfiguration.

We are undergoing metamorphosis. As we are enfolded into Christ’s life, as God is redeeming all things, we get only small glimpses of the transfiguration currently underway, but someday, our eyes will be completely opened and we will see ourselves and all of creation completely transfigured into his likeness. So no day is an ordinary when we obediently follow Jesus up a mountain or down into a valley—for we’re metamorphosing into his glorious saints.

Amen.

Glory Is My Work. Beauty Crazed. Holiness.

 A Meditation from Leviticus 19:1-2, 9-18.

Let us once more thoughtfully and prayerfully read our collect (from BCP):


O Lord, you have taught us that without love whatever we do is worth nothing: Send your Holy Spirit and pour into our hearts your greatest gift, which is love, the true bond of peace and of all virtue, without which whoever lives is accounted dead before you. Grant this for the sake of your only Son Jesus Christ, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.

This week, I read our Scripture passages alongside Mary Oliver’s book length poem entitled: The Leaf and the Cloud. These phrases from the poem clung to the walls of my mind : crazed by beauty and glory is my work.

In the Leviticus 19 passage God tells Moses, “Tell my people that I want them to be holy.” But he doesn’t stop there. Just to make sure they know what holiness looks like in everyday life, the LORD, through Moses, describes everyday holiness in their ancient culture. As we in the church know today it is an important thing to be holy, for as Hebrew 12:4 says, “without holiness, we won’t see the Lord.” We won’t see God. So what of holiness then and now?

The Lord tells them, when you harvest, when you reap the reward of your long hours of planting, don’t gather everything. Leave some for the poor and alien. And in verse eleven God tells the Israelites as well as us not to steal. Perhaps St. Paul was thinking of these verses when he told the Ephesians (4:28), “Anyone who has been stealing must steal no longer, but must work, doing something useful with their own hands, that they may have something to share with those in need.”

It seems to me from the verses in Leviticus that part of our aim in our work is make money to share with those in need. We have to keep that in the front of our minds. When we collect or reap our paychecks, we are to reserve some for the poor and aliens, or foreigners. And I don’t think questions like, “Do we give ten percent before or after taxes?” exemplify the generosity of God. Ten percent is a suggestion for the minimum. Just recently, I ran across this quote on a friend's Facebook page, “Everybody wants to be righteous when they can afford it.” But God often calls us to give liberally—generously. God calls us to be righteous—to be holy—to be Jesus even when we can’t afford it—when it’s most inconvenient and painful. It is in those times that we most exemplify Jesus. Our actions show that they don’t stem from our own power and inclinations, but from God’s.

If you can afford to go to the university down the road, even with loans, you’re some of the richest people in the world—the school is so darn expensive. And I thank you for paying my family’s salary. Seriously. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for some of you. Yet, it is well documented that rich people, like you and me, give less than the poor—per capita that is. Poor people out-give us most of the time. Maybe it’s because they remember what it is like to be in need and what it was like for someone to save their necks just about the time they were about to give up. But lest I be guilty of doing what Leviticus 19:15 says and showing all partiality to the poor, let me say this: you don’t have to be poor to be generous—to give liberally. If we realize our spiritual poverty, that God saved and continues to save our necks, if we really come to terms with the fact that nothing we have is ours, not even our junior high and high school and for some—college educations and jobs and cars and communities and food and our minds and abilities too—all were given to us by God—then we’ll be crazed by the beauty and generosity of God.

That beauty and generosity of God induced craze will drive us to be liberal—generous with all we have. So then our lives will be characterized by “mi casa, es tu casa” as well as my food and clothing and vehicles and education and/or skills. It kind of reminds you of the early church doesn’t it? The early church, some throughout history, and even some of us today do embody the holiness God is talking about in Leviticus 19. But let us remember it’s a holiness flowing from love, for remember as Paul says in I Corinthians 13, without love—even our painful sacrifices are worthless. When we live such holy lives, glory is our work.

Surely these verses in Leviticus are places where we can stop for a while and linger in the compassion and love and kindness and wisdom of God. Left to ourselves, we don’t do what God commands us to for our own good and the good of others. Instead, we devise our own schemes for ensuring our own good. And that my dear friends leads to our own destruction and the destruction of others and even of the earth. As the Heidlerberg Catechism says, we are inclined to hate both God and our neighbor. So here as in other places throughout Scripture, the Lord lays it out for us and gives us the power, through the Spirit of Jesus, to be holy.

Our LORD says (and here is my translation), for goodness sake, yes for goodness sake, and so that you and everything around you will flourish: “Don’t lie or steal—even when you think doing so would help you or help you save face. Tell the truth and deal honestly. Don’t deceive or casually use my name. And please, don’t violate my name by making me look bad by leading a careless life within the kingdom. Be careful with me and others. I am God. The more you realize how wonderful and holy I am the less you dare do such things—because of your love for me. And by the way, I really want to know, do you love me?

And he goes on to say, (again in my own paraphrase of the passage), “Don’t exploit your friends or rob them. Don’t use them for your own advantages…to get ahead. Rather serve them so that they might have the advantage. Be others directed, like me. Love them. And pay people on time. Withholding pay when it is due others puts them in a bind. Think of them and their families. A few more things. Don’t be cruel to those who are in any way disadvantaged. Don’t curse the deaf knowing they can’t hear you. How cruel is that? And don’t trip up the blind by putting a stumbling block in their paths. For that matter, don’t play such games—the kinds many of you love to play with the lives of others—don’t pick on them. I’m talking to you whether you’re in junior high or you’re an adult. Those things are cruel and unlike me. I am not cruel. A few more things my dear children. Please don’t talk badly about anyone when they’re out of ear shot or even when they’re within earshot. And if someone is in danger, or going through a hard time in life and you find out about it, don’t stand by. For goodness’ sake, do something in my name. And don’t hate your brother or sister, seek their good. Don’t hold a grudge against a family member, a neighbor, or anyone in the body of Christ. If you want to look like me you’ll seek their good. You’ll do the hard work of forgiveness. If you want to be truly holy, then you’ll understand what I mean."

Such a life, I believe, is a beauty-crazed life. One where glory is your life. Being holy like God and through the power of God—is a life that causes others to stop and look. They are staggered and become overwhelmed by the beauty and wonder of your life. Your life becomes a beautiful and fragrant flower growing in the most unlikely of places—a nuclear wasteland. It becomes an icon of hope, an icon of what is to come when all things are redeemed. An icon of Christ. It is a redeemed life. A God-crazed, a God-full life. A beautiful life, beauty crazed life. A glory full-glorious life. A holy life.

Brothers and sisters, glory is our work.

Amen.

God Always Reveals Himself.

2nd Sunday after Epiphany 2011

From Lectionary Readings:                       
Isaiah 49:1-7
Psalm 40:1-12
I Corithians 1:1-9
John 1:29-42

You have to wonder why initially, John the Baptist didn’t know who Jesus was. After all, John was Jesus’ cousin. And while he may have lived too far away from Jesus to interact with him from day to day, don’t you think, even from possibly limited interactions, that Jesus would’ve struck him as extraordinary while they were growing up? Extraordinary in wisdom and holiness, even though Jesus was the so-called son of his uncle Joseph, a carpenter, and aunt Mary? Really godly people to be sure, but ordinary people John was familiar with?

But surely stories of Jesus’ antics at the temple got around the family circles. Remember the time after the Passover when Jesus was 12, how he stayed behind in the temple talking theology and life with the Teachers of the Law while his family headed home? His parents didn’t even know he was gone. It’s only when the caravan stopped after traveling for a day that they realized he wasn’t there; they couldn’t find him among relatives and friends. They worried. Then it took them three days to find him in Jerusalem. When they got there, they discovered that everyone was amazed at him—at the answers he gave and at how he conducted himself. God in Christ was revealing himself to the most important religious people of his day. 12 year old God, the second person of the Trinity, Jesus—standing there talking to them. They were face to face with God, who was revealing himself. And neither the religious leaders (hear that, leaders) nor his parents knew God when they saw him. And neither did John the Baptist. That is until John witnessed the Spirit descending on Jesus in the form of a dove after John baptized him. God revealed himself to John. And to think that John held 30 year old God, the God-man, Jesus his cousin, in his arms and baptized him.

God is always, always, always revealing himself to us. However, often, he comes in unexpected ways. Take this little example. Suppose you saw a crowd of Mid-towners out refurbishing a house down one of these streets. Suppose a crowd gathered to watch and someone asked: “Where’s the preacher?” And then another answers, “Right there, there’s one of the preachers, they have a couple of them.” And the one asking continues, “Where, I don’t see anyone that looks like a preacher.” The other says, “Right there, that short lady with the dark hair, that little spit fire over there, she’s a resident director at that school down there on 72. She’s one of the preachers.” Now what on earth? Do I look like a preacher, even a sometimes one? I’d venture to guess that I don’t. But God does reveal himself in mysterious ways and mysteriously scatters his gifts abroad to ordinary people just like you and me. God is always, always, always, revealing himself. He is faithful in revealing himself and in being good to us. We often stand face to face, eye to eye with God and can’t see him.

God so loved us, that he revealed himself before we ever existed. God is faithfully acting in and around us and through us all the time. Revealing himself to us in these moments. I think of something Richard Foster says, that I think we can apply to this idea of God revealing himself in the ordinary. Perhaps we can call them God’s everyday incarnational revealings. Foster says:

The most basic place of our sacramental living is in our marriages and homes and families. Here we live together with well-reasoned love for everyone around us. Here we experience ‘the sacrament of the present moment,’ to use the phrase of Jean Pierre de Caussade. We miss the point of this way of life if we are off conducting prayer meetings and other churchly enterprises when the duty of the present moment is to be at home, playing with our children or caring for other domestic responsibilities. C.S. Lewis wisely observed, ‘The great thing, if one can, is to stop regarding all the unpleasant things as interruptions of one’s ‘own’ or ‘real’ life. The truth is of course that what one calls interruptions are precisely one’s real life—the life God is sending one day by day: what one calls one’s ‘real life’ is a phantom of one’s own imagination.

This is our life where we are right now. And this is where God reveals himself. Yes, he reveals himself cosmically and he will shake up the earth and return in full view of all humankind. We can’t even imagine what will happen and how it will be. Yes, God does stunning miraculous works now, all over the world, healing and rescuing people. God is all powerful. Daily, he faithfully reveals himself in quiet and stunning ways. Have you seen him? I have this more than sneaking suspicion that you and I may be face to face with God, even now.

Well after God revealed himself to John the Baptist, John had to point him out to others. One day, John the Baptist was hanging out with some of his disciples. He saw Jesus walk by. Apparently, which most of us know by now, Jesus didn’t have any outstanding Messiah markings. He wasn’t the ruler of the army or some skilled swordsman, or wheeler and dealer. Just a carpenter. Those standing around John the Baptist had no idea who Jesus was until John said, “Behold the Lamb of God that takes away the sin of the world.” John the Baptist was saying, “Look, there he is, the one we’ve long expected, one greater than me.” His two disciples took off after Jesus to find out what John was talking about. They soon found out for themselves.

Last week, I was sitting here during the meal, and Sarah came over and sat by me. She wanted to catch up. Soon Patty, and Linda, and Becky came over and sat with Iliana and me. I was somewhat tired. But I thoroughly enjoyed the conversation. I know these ladies and the others in our church, love me and my family. They care for me…for us. As I sat there, being cared for in conversation and by their attentiveness…suddenly there descended this divine contentedness in knowing that they have made a space for me. They hospitably noticed me. And in them noticing me, paying careful attention to me, I understood yet again, that God took note of me. Surprise. Surprise. There goes God revealing himself to me again. Showing his faithfulness and tender care for me and my family. Through them. They didn’t know it. But I did. And I saw and experienced God face to face. Eye to eye.

Last night, I was all ready to get a good night’s sleep. But Iliana woke up sick. She had been sick with a bad cold all week; I thought we were over it. But she wakes up, and calls to us. So, I go over to her room and she says that her ear and stomach hurt. I end up thinking this is really something, so I take her out of bed and sit with her in the papasan chair. I rubbed her back. I gave her Tylenol. She asks me if she’ll have to go to the hospital and get a shot. I say, “ I don’t know. Maybe. But shots just hurt for a second and then they insert medicine into your bloodstream to make you better.” Then I thought, “Heck, I’ll even throw in a soothing sugar-free popsicle if that’ll make her feel better.” So I did. She didn’t finish it. Then I knew something was wrong. And she cried a lot. As I was thinking about how to soothe her, I thought, “I’ll bring her into our bed. I’ll ask Shawn to sleep on the couch so he can get rest and I’ll keep her with me in case she throws up.”

Needless to say, she was thrilled at the prospect of sleeping in our bed because she never does. So I brought her over. She ended up throwing up twice. Don’t worry, we made it to the bathroom both times. I really thought that I was in for it, that I’d be up for several more hours. I also thought about this homily that I had to deliver. But it wasn’t that bad. I had only been up from 2:30-:5:30 a.m. It was around five when I was thinking that’d be a real long haul. But while we slept side by side in bed, Iliana gently stroked my arms. Kissed my hands. Asked Jesus to be with her, to help her feel better, and be brave in case she needed a shot. She asked me to pray too. And I thought, there you go again God, revealing your goodness, and gentleness, and love, and beauty through my little child, my little girl.

In our passages today, God is telling us, telling the Israelites back in that day, that he’d reveal himself. He’d show up. They’d see that he is faithful, that he is all that he claims to be. He doesn’t let us down. He says, “Kings shall see and stand up, princes, and they shall prostrate themselves, because of the LORD, who is faithful, the Holy One of Israel. . . .” In Psalm 40, David says that while I was in the pit, as I waited patiently on God, “he stooped to me and heard my cry.” God lifted David out of the pit and put a new song in his mouth. Our God, our great and beautiful God, who’s greatness no one can fathom, over and over again hears us, and stoops down to us.

That’s why David says in verses four and five, “Happy are those who trust in the LORD! They do not resort to evil spirits or turn to false gods. Great things are they that you have done, O LORD my God! How great your wonders and your plans for us! There is none who can be compared with you.”

Maybe we don’t see God, though he is right in front of us. Well of course, we should then turn to Scripture. And perhaps to others. Sometimes, we need others to point him out to us. That is what I am doing today. Others, including you, do it for me all the time. So, like John the Baptist, I am saying, “Behold the Lamb of God. Behold God, who is faithful to you.” May he satisfy you as you see his faithfulness to you.

Think about how God has been faithful to you and will be faithful to you. There’s no question that he is stooping down to lift you up, there is no question that he will continue to. Behold your God. Amen.

Prepare For The God Who Comes - An Advent Meditation.

Luke 3:1-6

In the fifteenth year of the reign of Tiberius Caesar—when Pontius Pilate was governor of Judea, Herod tetrarch of Galilee, his brother Philip tetrarch of Iturea and Traconitis, and Lysanias tetrarch of Abilene— during the high priesthood of Annas and Caiaphas, the word of God came to John son of Zechariah in the desert. He went into all the country around the Jordan, preaching a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. As is written in the book of the words of Isaiah the prophet: "A voice of one calling in the desert, 'Prepare the way for the Lord, make straight paths for him. Every valley shall be filled in, every mountain and hill made low. The crooked roads shall become straight, the rough ways smooth. And all mankind will see God's salvation.' "

Originally posted December 6, 2009.

Prepare the Way for the Lord!

In ancient times, inhabitants of cities built wide, straight, smooth roads when kings were coming into the city. The king had to have a special entrance. Craig Barnes tells us that:

One of the most exciting archeological digs going on in Israel is in Beit Shean which is uncovering a great Roman City. If you go there today you can see the main entrance into the city which is a wide, straight, even road, with magnificent columns on either side. That city is located at the juncture of the Jezreel and Jericho valleys. John the Baptist must have been by it all the time. Anyone traveling from Galilee to Jerusalem would have seen it. Everyone knew that a long straight road was what you made when a king was coming.[1]

The Romans spent a lot of time building good roads so that they could expand their empire. Roads were used as trade routes, for foot travel, and to move armies from place to place. And as I said earlier, the best roads were built to welcome the royal entourage. It is said that at the height of the Roman Empire, there were 53,000 miles of good road.[2] Of course the roads fell into disrepair when the empire crumbled. But some of those ancient roads are still used today, although they’ve been paved and repaved over and over again.

During Advent, we wait in joyful expectation preparing for the God who comes, for the God who is always coming as Carlo Carretto so beautifully put it. We need God to come because we are inclined toward destruction. Left to ourselves we make straight paths crooked and smooth places rough. We throw booby traps onto the road, make pot-holes or manholes that people fall into and can’t climb out of. Left to ourselves, we cut paths that depart from the way, the truth, and life without even knowing it, ending up God-knows-where. Left to ourselves, we become destroyers of the road and destroyers of all who pass by—robbing them, beating them up and even killing them. We pollute. We corrupt. We devalue the valuable and value the worthless. So you see, we desperately need the God who comes and is always coming and will eventually come to redeem all things.

I love my husband and daughter infinitely, but at times I say and do things that can destroy, things that mar the beauty of our marriage and family. I cringe as I think about a time when words that I meant for good, had an evil effect in the church, on a friend, because I didn’t think more about how to say them. And you know, as Coldplay sings, sometimes I wonder if I am part of the cure or part of the disease, the destruction. So you see, I desperately need the God who comes, who is coming.

John the Baptist has been considered by some to be the last Old Testament prophet. Although he wasn’t the Messiah, he paved the way for Jesus the Messiah. He was filling religious valleys and excavating spiritual hills and mountains. But his road construction didn’t just affect and threaten the gospel-less religious institutions, his message paved socio-political and economic roads that some didn’t want paved. He both intrigued and threatened Herod in the political establishment. However, neither Herod nor his wife would allow John the Baptist to build inroads. So eventually he lost his head, beheaded on the road to Zion. Sometimes that happens when you make ready the pathways for the Lord. And God will reward those who sacrifice their lives to pave the way for his coming.

John the Baptist still speaks. He speaks to us in the words of Isaiah the prophet in Luke chapter three and calls us to prepare the way for the Lord, to make straight paths for him so that every valley is filled in, and every mountain and hill is made low. Then the crooked roads will become straight and the rough ways smooth. But we’re going to have a hard go of it, a hard time making straight paths for others if we are all crooked inside. And all of us are crooked in some way.

It is said that the phrase, “I am stumped” comes from back in the day when tree stumps were left on wagon trails.[3] Apparently, when the trees weren’t completely taken out, when stumps were left, sometimes wagons got hung up on a stump, thus the phrase, “I’m stumped.”[4] Are we stumping Christ, stumping others or are we currently stumped?

This Advent, Christ is knocking at the door of our hearts asking if he can come in to make the rough places in us smooth. Are we going to be hospitable to God? Are we going to allow him to get to work and fill in the valleys and bring low the hills and mountains in our souls so that we can do the same in the world? We must. For as Saint Teresa of Avila says (as quoted in A Guide To Prayer For Ministers and Other Servants):

Christ has
No body on earth but yours;
No hands but yours;
No feet but yours;
Yours are the eyes
Through which is to look out
Christ’s compassion on the world;
Yours are the feet
With which he is to go about
Doing good;
Yours are the hands
With which he is to bless now.[5]

Missing His Coming

We know Christ came, is coming and will come again, but we need to remind ourselves that it is possible to miss his coming. Many who looked forward to his coming, missed it because he came unexpectedly. Most of the educated religious people of his day missed it. And today, we can miss him because we’re too busy. Too busy paving our own roads while claiming to be doing his work. Notice that the word of God came to John the Baptist in the desert. The desert wilderness was a place where people went to hear God.[6] Sometimes God sends us into the wilderness to get us away from our busy lives, so that we can hear him. Sometimes, we have to pack up and head there ourselves if we are to hear him. What I mean is, we have to have silence and solitude to hear God. It could be in our rooms or in a park in the city. But we have to make time to hear him speak.

Why? Because our incessant busyness puts us in grave danger of missing Christ when he comes. We want to advance ourselves, sometimes in the church or in Christian institutions. So we miss him as we play church or play at Christianity. It is a very real danger. In Matthew 25, at the end of the age, when Jesus rewards those who were hospitable to him, who noticed him when he came, he says, “For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.”[7] We can’t say, Oh Jesus, I wanted to, but I was too busy doing things (or paving my own roads) to welcome you when you came. He’ll tell us to depart, that we never knew him. May that never be for anyone here. May we not miss Jesus when he comes.

I close with a poem written by monk John L’Hereux reprinted in the book, Monk Habits For Everyday People by Dennis Okholm:

Christ came into my room
and stood there
and I was bored to death.
I had work to do.
I wouldn’t have minded
If he’d been crippled
Or something—I do well
With cripples—but he
Just stood there, all face,
And with that d—ned guitar.
I didn’t ask him to sit down:
He’d have stayed all day.
(Let’s be honest. You can
Be crucified just so often;
Then you’ve had it. I mean
You’re useless; no good
To God, let alone
Anybody else.) So I said
To him after a while—
Well, what’s up? What do you want?
And he laughed, stupid,
Said he was just passing by
And thought he’d say hello.
Great, I said, hello.
So he left.
And I was so d—ned mad
I couldn’t even listen
To the radio. I went
And got some coffee.
The trouble with Christ is
He always comes at the wrong time.[8]

Christ is coming this Advent, may we be prepared for his coming and pave the way for him to come into the lives and institutions and the world so that all humankind will see his salvation. Amen.

________________________________________________________
[1] Found online at: http://www.natpresch.org/sermon.php?d=1997-12-14%200000
[2] Found online at: http://www.triplenine.org/articles/roadbuilding.asp
[3] Ibid.
[4] Ibid.
[5] Ruben P. Job and Norman Shawchuck, A Guide To Prayer For Ministers And Other Servants, (Nashville: Upper Room Books, 1983), 22.
[6] Found online at: http://www.natpresch.org/sermon.php?d=1997-12-14%200000
[7] Matthew 25:34-37 NIV.
[8] Dennis Okholm, Monk Habits For Everyday People: Benedictine Spirituality for Protestants, (Grand Rapids, Brazos Press, 2007), 88.

A Scroll of Remembrance

"A scroll of remembrance was written in his presence concerning those who feared the LORD and honored his name."  Malachi 3:16

Perhaps you’re tired and weary. Overwhelmed by your marriage, family and financial problems, worried about being popular and cool in school. Worried about grades. Maybe it seems like nothing is going right in your life.


Maybe this contributes to you being weary in well-doing. Haven’t we all been weary in well-doing at one time or another? I know I have. We get tired of the evil and hypocrisy in others and institutions and if we are honest, in ourselves. At those times, we get frazzled by the slowness of change. Painstakingly slow---incremental---change.

If we allow ourselves to continue in this vein, if we continue to focus on the evil and hypocrisy, and seeming prosperity of the wicked, without repentance, without reconsidering our life, and our thoughts and our ways, if we don’t cry out to God and others for help, our souls begin to fill with bitterness and resentment.

With our eyes off of Jesus, our perspective gets seriously off and we unknowingly mistake this new perspective for reality. Our attitude colors the world black and gray. We become cynical and spread the cynic’s poison. I once heard that cynicism is thinly veiled anger. So we become angry and contemptuous of others. Unbeknownst to us, we have climbed a high-horse. We’re self-righteous. We are cool and sophisticated, arrogantly condemning people with ease. We poke fun at the good people and the goodness we see and question even the apparently good motives of others. We elevate our opinion to the status of a god. We become miserable and make those around us miserable. Through our words and through our lives we declare, “It’s futile to follow Jesus, to believe the testimony of the Church throughout the ages.” But we hang around Christendom ‘cuz we’ve got nowhere else to go and nothing else to do.

Through our sinfully poisoned attitude and behavior, we manipulate others into having to walk on egg shells around us. Because well if they don’t, we’ll blast them, we’ll let them have it. God forbid they call us out and try to lovingly confront us. That’d be World War Three.

Said differently, we become what Scripture calls, hard-hearted. We become cold and hard toward God and others. We are hardened to life. If we allow such an attitude to continue, it’ll ruin us and become a force for evil in the lives of those surrounding us. And the thing is, everyone will know, but few if any will say anything to us. We’ve made it impossible for them to. They’re walking on eggshells don’t we know? Do we not see this in our churches and throughout the body of Christ? It is sad and in Christ, unnatural.

Now what I was just talking about is a pervasive attitude or bent that can enslave us to death if we are not vigilant. I wasn’t talking about the every-now-and then weariness in well-doing, when we want to throw in the towel. Maybe a lot of our weariness is due to over-commitment, lack of sleep, and not caring for our bodies. Still in our every-now-and-then weariness we can be miserable and make those around us miserable.

God hears the rumblings our hearts and words of our mouths. I think of Ezekiel 35:13 where he says, “You boasted against me and spoke against me without restraint, and I heard it.” But he is also very aware of joys, our trust, our fears, our strivings on his behalf. He is so aware that he records it.

I treasure the picture painted for us in the Malachi chapter three, “Then those who feared the LORD , talked with each other, and the LORD listened and heard.” Their conversation warmed his heart, it gave him great joy to know that in the end, they trusted him, even when it seemed like they were suffering and the wicked around them were prospering. Their words about God, their humble posture towards him, delighted him. It delighted him so much, that he wrote an Ode to them. God Almighty, the King, called for a scroll. He called it the Scroll of Remembrance. Within his presence, the names of those who feared and honored his name, the names of those who were in awe of him, were recorded.

And God says to them in Malachi and to us throughout Scripture and history and life:

“Listen. I’ve seen all you’ve gone through because of me. I’ve heard your cries and prayers and laments. I’ve seen your suffering over evil in the world and because of evil in the world. I’ve seen how you remained committed to me in sickness and in health, in riches and poverty. You’ve cherished me. And I cherish you. Oh how I love you! You have worshiped me with your body, soul, mind, and strength, because you know me. You know that although you don’t have all the answers, and although you might wonder about my ways and sometimes angrily and exasperatedly shake your fists at me, because of the seeming senselessness of it all, you know that my ways are higher than your ways (Isaiah 55:8).

You know that I love you and all of my Creation (Psalm 145). You know that I am faithful and true (Revelation 19:11). You know that I will judge the world in righteousness and the people with equity (Psalm 198:9). You don’t boast in your wisdom. You don’t boast in your power. You don’t boast in your riches. You revel in truly knowing me and understanding that I am the LORD who demonstrates unfailing love and who brings justice and righteousness to the earth. You revel in my delight in these things (Jeremiah 9:23,24).

You are convinced that I have not come to steal, kill, and destroy. That is the work of our enemy the devil. You are completely confident that I have come to bring life, abundant life (John 10:10). And I give my life to you and for you, that you may be whole. And you gladly pass on my life to others. You delight in me. Listen dear child, the sun of righteousness will rise with healing in its rays. The glory radiating from me illumines your path and your mind. With it, I blanket you, warming you and comforting you in the long cold winter. Because of your knowledge of me, because you are deeply aware of my love for you, you go out and frolic like well-fed calves (Malachi 4:2). Believe me my child, you will live to see the day when there is a clear distinction between the righteous and the wicked, between those who serve God and those who do not (Malachi 3:18).

 If you open your eyes now you can start to see it. You believe me when I say that I am for you and not against you (Romans 8:31), don’t you? I will open your eyes so you can see like Elisha and his servant. Remember how they were surrounded by the Arameans and his servant was scared that they’d get taken out? But what happened? I opened the servant’s eyes and what did he see? He saw the hills full of horses and chariots of fire surrounding him and Elisha (2 Kings 6:17). My angels were encamped around them and they are around you. They are ministering spirits to the heirs of salvation (Hebrews 1:14).

You’ve trusted me wholly, and found me wholly true. I am making all things new, do you not see it springing forth? Yes you do. Oh how I delight in you delighting in me. I have kept you as the apple of my eye (Psalm 17:8), I have written your name on the palm of my hands (Isaiah 49:16a). And I have recorded your name on my scroll of remembrance. Your recorded name is an ode to you, to your perseverance and love. As you stand firm, you will win life (Luke 21:19).

Jesus Still Controversial Even on the Heels of Death

A Meditation on Mark 14:1-31.

The passage opens with Jesus at the home of Simon the Leper. Who is Simon the Leper? Was he a leper Jesus had healed that couldn’t shed the name leper because that is how people knew him? Or was he full of leprosy, but maybe rich enough to get a societal pass because of his money? We don’t know. But apparently Mark’s audience knew of Simon the Leper. Simon the Leper had some sort of reputation, enough of a reputation to be specifically identified. So, we find Jesus reclining in his home. That is, Jesus is hanging out with a leper right before his death. And of course, his disciples were too…even if before following Jesus they never would’ve of dreamed of it. Now, they don’t think twice about hanging out with a leper, at least it’s not recorded that they do.

Most of us have either heard of or read this account before. And we don’t think twice about it either. But I want us to. Scripture always beckons us to think once, twice, a thousand times, because it always has something to say to us. So let’s pause and think of what it might have meant for Jesus to hang out at the home of Simon the Leper.

I tried to put myself in the position of the religious people present at Simon’s home. And I couldn’t. It seems like I've grown used to Jesus hanging out with tax collectors and sinners. I’ve read it and heard it a bunch of times and so that seems quite characteristic of Jesus. Nothing surprising or disturbing there. And today, at least in the United States, there is no stigma associated with leprosy. Frankly, we don’t see the disease or its effects around in these parts, although when I was in India I did. Still, really, there is no stigma associated with it in our minds.

To understand how disturbing Jesus’ actions were to the people of his time, I started thinking about what I might find jolting or disturbing. And I’ll tell you. I’d be very shocked and quite a bit dismayed if I found out Jesus was hanging out at Hugh Heffner’s mansion. You know, Hugh Heffner, of playboy fame. That wouldn’t sit well with me. I’d probably call Jesus on it. I’d be like, “Jesus, what are you doing? The man is disgusting.” Maybe you would find something different disturbing. Jesus hanging out with greedy unethical CEOs. Or maybe Jesus hanging with either ultra-conservative people  you deem legalistic Pharisees or those you believe to be too liberal to be Christian. If we think about it those terms, in terms that would be deeply offensive to us, we can start to understand why the reactions of many of the religious people in Jesus’ day were those of shock and dismay and even disgust.

What are some other things that even Jesus’ disciples found deeply offensive at Simon the Leper’s home? Well, a woman, who the apostle John tells us is Mary of Bethany, anoints Jesus’ head with oil. Scripture says her sacrifice was more than a year’s worth of wages. So back to our day. In 2005, the overall median personal income for those in the U.S. over the age 18 was $25,149. If we just use that as an example, to get us to see the expense of her anointing actions, we’d see it is like she broke a $25,000 bottle of perfume and dumped it over Jesus’ head. No wonder some of those present were like, “What on earth is she doing? She could’ve sold that and given the money to the poor.” Judas said it.

Couldn’t some of us see ourselves saying that? I sure could. Wouldn’t a year’s worth of any one of our incomes go far in helping the poor surrounding us? You bet. One of the commentaries I read remarked that this woman’s “spiritual insight and generosity are contrasted with the spiritual blindness of the high priests and scribes” and even Judas’. And I think it is contrasted with our own too.

If we look further at this incident that occurred at Simon the Leper’s house, we’ll find something perhaps more disturbing to some of us and to those present at the time: it was a woman who had such spiritual insight. A woman of all things! She knew Jesus was the Messiah. And she acknowledged it by anointing him—an anointing Jesus tells us was also symbolic of his anointing before burial. My friends, every king of Judah was anointed by a prophet before he was crowned king. But here Jesus was anointed by a woman, not a prophet.

Shocking. Shocking. So shocking was her waste of money and her forward actions that those present tore into her. They didn’t come to her defense for anointing the Messiah. They tore into her. Scripture says, “They rebuked her harshly" because it wasn’t her place and it was a terrible waste of money.

But what does Jesus say? “Leave her alone . . . Why are you bothering her? She has done a beautiful thing to me. The poor you will always have with you, and you can help them any time you want. But you will not always have me. She did what she could. She poured perfume on my body beforehand to prepare for my burial. I tell you the truth, wherever the gospel is preached throughout the world, what she has done will also be told, in memory of her."

Jesus wasn’t bothered by her sacrifice to him. He called it beautiful, so beautiful that he wanted it etched in the memory of the Church, and thus the gospel writers recorded it for our benefit this day. It seems that Jesus’ position toward women then and even now is disturbing to those in religious circles.

Well after that, we leave Simon the Leper’s house and we find ourselves privy to a secret meeting between Judas and the chief priests even if it’s just for a historical second. Then we are quickly whisked away to the upper room. Apparently, Judas had had enough of Jesus. Jesus it turns out, didn’t conduct himself in a manner fit for a king. Jesus didn’t live up to Judas’ ideals or his perceptions and expectations of the Messiah or his perception of reality. So he gives up on Jesus, betraying him on the cusp of the single most tragically triumphant moment in all of time. I don’t know about you, but the more I think about it, Judas’ betrayal is disturbing to me. It’s disturbing that someone so close to Jesus, someone who had witnessed his miracles and character, would commit the most treacherous act in history.

Again Mark quickly whisks away to the Mount of Olives. In the opening scene, in this snap shot, Jesus tells his disciples that they will all fall away. Peter couldn’t believe it. Peter wouldn’t believe it. Maybe he thought, “Judas would betray you, but not me. Not me Jesus.” And he said as much. But Jesus told him that he too would betray him in a matter of hours.

Let us not think that we get off the hook either. We too have and will betray Jesus when he doesn’t fit our expectations. Some of us betray him through our behavior and others of us betray him by holding onto ideas he wants us to discard and not picking up others ones he wants us to have. Indeed, many of us would rather hold on to our idea of Jesus than Jesus himself. Put another way, sometimes we are in love with our ideas of Jesus, but not Jesus himself.

To be honest …we are the religious people of the day. Who did Jesus jostle? Who did he disturb? The religious people of the day. Who else did he disturb, jar, shock, dismay…(you pick the word)? His true disciples. If Jesus doesn’t shock us, if Jesus doesn’t dismay us…if he doesn’t have us with our backs up against the wall every now and then …enough that we have to say uncle and change… if we are not disturbed or dismayed, yea even disgusted…I wonder if we’ve been really hanging around Jesus.

* Commentaries used in this meditation were the New Jerome Bible Commentary and IVP's New Bible Commentary.

Continued Amazement

“Jesus replied, ‘Are you not in error because you do not know the Scriptures or the power of God?’” Mark 12:24

Some of us with our theological sophistication are not amazed by much. We yawn at the God of the universe—bored with Jesus, with Christianity. Ho hum. We’ve sat through too many sermons and have read the Bible too many times. And we’ve studied, so we’ve heard it and know it all. Our lack of amazement bleeds through our lives.

Yet in our theological arrogance and self-righteousness (appearing in many forms), Jesus says to us like he did the Sadducees, “You are badly mistaken. You’re dead wrong. You’re looking at God through a peep-hole, really. You don’t know the Scriptures or the power of God.”

As a sophomore, I became disillusioned thinking we served a most awfully cruel God. I thought it unfair that some were destined for hell because they’ve never had a chance to hear the gospel. I accused God and considered chucking the faith.

Thankfully, not long thereafter, I re-awakened to God’s goodness and brilliant splendor and re-trusted his character. I trusted his judgment even though he hadn’t answered my questions about those who’ve never heard. To quote Father Greg Boyle, “God seems to be an unwilling participant in our efforts to pigeon-hole him. The minute we think we’ve arrived at the most expansive sense of who God is, ‘this Great Wild God’ . . . breaks through the claustrophobia of our own articulation, and things get large again.”

God broke through the claustrophobia of my sophomoric articulation, at my dejectedness over what seemed the inevitable fate of billions who hadn’t a chance to hear. How did he? Well five or six years ago, I was surprised by joy, filled with glee really, when I started hearing well-documented reports about Muslims in closed countries coming to Christ through dreams. Apparently Jesus cares much more than I do about the redemption of all peoples—enough to bring many to himself through dreams and visions like he did the apostle Paul.

It turns out that I didn’t know the power of God—that I was woefully in error. However, now I find myself in the throngs of those amazed at Jesus—part of the great cloud of witnesses whose hearts are leaping with joy and astonishment and amazement.