This is a message given when I filled in for a vacationing pastor of Luke 20:27-38. Jesus is confronted with a riddle of one woman who had 7 husbands. He is asked who will be her husband in the resurrection. It's a question about is there really life after death.
I teased your pastor that she must have looked at today’s text and decided it was a good weekend to take vacation. This is what you call a “tough text.” As a seminary student, I’m familiar with debating questions of life after death and resurrection. Yet it is a far different experience trying to explain or understand such concepts when one is experiencing the emotional gravity and painful isolation of grief. What do you say when a child asks, “Where is mommy now? Will I ever see her again?” That is the moment smart theories lose their zeal and your gut aches with the true mystery of God and God’s plans for us.
Death can suck the faith right out of you. Maybe that is one reason we live in such denial of the topic. We try so hard to keep its reality from touching us. We have people die in hospitals, we have funeral homes to deal with the bodies for us, we pay money to make our dead look like they were alive, some of us keep our children from funerals, and for some the subject of death is a forbidden conversation. We are appalled by death, hide from it, or just plain ignore it until it comes knocking on our doors. Yet, when we receive news of a terminal diagnosis or experience the death of someone very significant, we can’t get enough information about death and have a voracious desire to ask the deep questions of life after death. We long to know if the one’s we have lost, if we ourselves will continue on or if death is final. We long to end the deep isolation and fear that our grief evokes. What happens next is a hope-filled mystery.
In today’s text, Jesus is in Jerusalem and is on his way to the cross. Every time he speaks, someone is out to trick him and find something to charge him with. And so he encounters the Sadducees.
Sadducees only followed the first five books of the Bible; they rejected the idea of resurrection, an afterlife, angels and other principalities because they were not mentioned in those books. The Pharisees on the other hand regarded the first five books, the prophets’ writings, wisdom literature, and oral tradition all to be valid scripture, most of what we study today. The Sadducees were wealthy, upper crust socialites who were in alignment with the Roman government and only served the temple in Jerusalem. They faded away after the temple was destroyed.
Their question to Jesus is intended to prove how ludicrous and irrational the concept of a resurrection is. Yet Jesus points out a radical thought, that what happens next is not a continuation of life as we know it. The Sadducees take life as we experience it now and project it into life after death. It’s a popular mistake. Think of all the images of heaven you’ve been exposed to. Heaven is imagined as some kind of wonderful theme park where everything is as it is now – only perfect. Everyone is happy, healthy, wealthy and wise – life is a continuous afternoon on a Caribbean beach where you can eat all the ice cream you want and always look perfect. Heaven is the “better place” where every soul is “better off.” Likewise, Hell is imagined as the worst moment of this life continuously played out.
However, what happens next is a hope-filled mystery. When Jesus says there is no marriage in the resurrection, Jesus is explaining that the resurrection is a new creation. At that time, women were the property of their husband with the job of producing an heir, so a family lived on. Jesus is letting us know that in the resurrection we experience a complete revolution of relationships where we will no longer relate to one another in roles of power versus powerlessness, no more divisions, no more death, no more pain but an entirely new experience of life.
The reality is there is no complete description of heaven or resurrection life in the Bible. Clearly any descriptions would require human ability to understand. Trying to understand heaven is like explaining an iPhone to a 1st century Sadducee. So here lie the dilemma, we naturally think about the future in a way that is somehow based on our experience, past and present. This future, the kingdom come, is not based on anything we’ve known. What happens next is a hope-filled mystery.
Resurrection is a tough concept to comprehend. Maybe that is why the idea of immortality of the soul seems easier to digest than resurrection of the body. Immortality of the soul was a Greek concept taught by Socrates and Plato in which the soul is good and lives eternally but the body is bad and is discarded in death. This is not a Christian concept. Resurrection of the body is what Jesus taught. Resurrection is not some sort of resuscitation of more of the same. This body we have hurts. It has pain. It needs to eat to survive. It has biological drives. This body fails you. This body needs to die. This body will return to dust and ash, whether naturally or speeded up by cremation. Resurrection is not a continuation of this life. Resurrection is not carrying on of a family line. There is a physical resurrection, but not a fleshly resuscitation. I will not have THIS body again.
This is not an easy thing to grasp, especially since most of us try to avoid the topic of death and the afterlife. However, what happens next is a hope-filled mystery. Jesus is a resurrected body and we also will be a resurrected person. Only the living can experience that which lives; only the living can encounter the “Living God.” God is God of the living. So we are alive, will be alive in God, will not just be floating spirits, but truly alive.
But we’re not dead yet, so how do we live as truly alive as we possibly can in this life? We take this knowledge of a hope-filled mystery, concerning resurrection and life after death, and transform our living now. God’s new life breaks into our here and now. Where is God at work in your life today? God is doing new things now and with resurrection eyes we are empowered to recognize such hope today. In the Lord’s Prayer we pray, “Thy kingdom come, thy will be done here on earth as in heaven.” We are the hands and feet of that kingdom. We are the children of God now and that means we are being called and sent in this present moment to create spiritual community, share in relationships of love, show compassion, and basically bring heaven to earth now. What we do now matters.
Our belief in the resurrection is based upon a relationship of faith we have with God as creator, redeemer, and Spirit. I know that my redeemer lives. We have been given the companionship of the Holy Spirit to guide and orient us in the dizziness of death and grief. God has a plan that includes life after death. We know because the Spirit is present with us illuminating our senses to the dark mysteries of what comes next. We can trust God in these questions. God is God of the living, so knowing what happens next is a hope-filled mystery we shout the words of Paul “Oh Death where is your Sting? Oh grave where is your victory?” (1 Corinthians 15:55)
Saturday, November 6, 2010
Did Jesus Wear Pink and Purple?
This is a sermon I gave while filling in for a vacationing pastor. It is based on Luke 18:9-14.
This past Wednesday I and many of my friends wore pink or purple shirts to recognize National Bullying Prevention Day. Over 160,000 kids stay home from school in a single day because of bullies. Often the bullying goes unreported and is perpetuated by the stigma associated with seeking help. In many cases bullying can lead to suicide. There have already been 5 suicides due to bullying in the Minneapolis-Anoka school district this year, three associated with Gay/Lesbian/Bisexual/Transgender ridicule. The point of wearing a specific colored shirt was to promote prevention and start conversation so that we can put a stop to bullying of ALL people in ALL places: kids and adults, schools and workplaces, to create a community of acceptance. Why one color was pink is due to two high school seniors in Nova Scotia in 2007 who stood up for a fellow male freshman student who was being bullied on the first day of school for wearing a pink shirt. The boys heard about it, bought a bunch of pink shirts, handed them out and texted their friends to wear pink. The next day, nearly the entire student body was wearing pink. They told their community that bullying was not okay. Likewise there is a viral video movement in the cause of suicide prevention called the “It Gets Better Project”. Countless videos online of famous and not so famous people sharing their stories of feeling left out, being bullied, and the pain of not fitting anyone’s mold concluding with the message that “It Gets Better”. In addition, viewers are asked to take the pledge: Everyone deserves to be respected for who they are. I pledge to spread this message to my friends, family and neighbors. I'll speak up against hate and intolerance whenever I see it, at school and at work. I'll provide hope for lesbian, gay, bi, trans and other bullied teens by letting them know that "It Gets Better."
God loves in spite of who we think we are. Deep down, many of us carry a thought “I’m not good enough.” We think we don’t hit the mark; we are haunted by past failure and somehow guilty. The message of humility first gleaned from today’s text can be misunderstood to mean feeling bad about yourself is spiritual. Maybe the church has stressed human sinfulness so much we’ve missed stressing human godlikeness, leaving some people seeking other spiritual communities to heal their pain.
The Trappist monk, Thomas Merton, said, “Humility is being precisely the person you actually are in the presence of God.” That means focusing on God’s presence and who we are in that presence, not on behaving a certain way to earn heavenly kudos. A way to be in the presence of God is to pray. Prayer brings us closer to God and one another. It is a means of restoring the image of God in us. Prayer is the first wireless network of communication connecting us with God, each other and revealing a significant amount about our relationship with God and others.
Prayer is the one activity the Pharisee and the tax collector share in common this morning. The tax collector prayed at a distance not even looking up, in a posture of grief, asking for mercy. He does so with the possibility of drawing closer to God. The Pharisee prays standing above in a posture of being turned into oneself, or self-focused. His is a prayer of thanksgiving. He is thankful that he is good and not like other people. His righteous life-style is his salvation; he is a spiritual bully making sure” the other” knows he’s better.
Ralph Waldo Emerson said, “What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us.” One of the common issues Jesus addressed in his ministry was that of how we build our sense of value, our sense of worth. In the story of the Pharisee and the tax collector, the Pharisee tries to prove his goodness by recounting what a great guy he is. He’s never been to prison, never murdered anyone, and been honest in his business, never cheated on his wife, provided for his kids, gone to church every week, prayed every day. To prove his point he brings up how thankful he is not to be like others who cheat on their wives, rip off the system, drink too much, make easy money. Thank God I am not like that tax collector. I give away a tenth of all I earn and I make it honestly. I contribute to my community.
However good the things the Pharisee can account for himself, he does not go home justified by God. To be justified is to be in right relationship and cleared of all transgressions. It is God’s grace toward the undeserving. Many of us carry dark secrets, addictions, failures, “if onlys”, regrets and none of us are as self sufficient and reputable as we would like others to think. And making others feel bad about themselves won’t help our self-worth either. God loves us in spite of who we think we are.
I must admit I’m a rule-follower and over-achiever, not unlike the Pharisee. Sometimes I get upset with God because I think life should hold less struggles and more rewards for being good. But bad things happen to good people and “bad people” can seem to face fewer trials. So I struggle with Jesus’ words that the tax collector, who is not a likeable fellow, goes justified and the Pharisee does not. Jesus’ audience would have figured his story’s punch-line would have been that both were justified, not that the Pharisee was left out. But this isn’t the first time Jesus told a story like that. Remember the older brother in the story of the Prodigal Son who is upset about being a good son and never having a party thrown for him. Why does the bad brother get justification and I don’t? This is troublesome, for it means that God’s justification is not based on what we do to earn it. We can’t manipulate God to bless us, love us, and work for our benefit. We can’t control God. God is a wild force that justifies in spite of our life-style, prayers, appearance, acceptability, and likeableness. Dr. Fred Craddock comments on this text with:
The Pharisee is not a venomous villain and the publican is not generous Joe the bartender or Goldie the good-hearted hooker. Such portrayals belong in cheap novels. If the Pharisee is pictured as a villain and the tax collector as a hero, then each gets what he deserves, there is no surprise of grace and the parable is robbed. In Jesus’ story, what both receive is “in spite of,” not “because of.”
God loves us in spite of who we think we are. Whatever we think separates us from God is no more. Whatever we have done that makes us think we are unworthy doesn’t count. Whatever it is we think makes us no good is taken care of. Jesus’ death on the cross says to each one of us “you are so valuable, you are somebody, and you are set free from the wounding of your mind to be the wonderful, unique creature that you are.”
And so, I challenge you to take this knowledge of your blessedness and justification in spite of what you think you are to go live life in that knowledge. Living in that knowledge, you cannot stand for bullying of any kind. This is not about approving another’s choices or life experience or even liking the person being bullied. This is about being humane, living out your godlikeness, living out our relationship with God and each other. Jesus might have worn pink. He definitely saw the beautiful child of God that lives in both bully and bullied. Let us each strive to share the good news that we are each worth it and called to treat each other as though we stood in the presence of God 24/7.
This past Wednesday I and many of my friends wore pink or purple shirts to recognize National Bullying Prevention Day. Over 160,000 kids stay home from school in a single day because of bullies. Often the bullying goes unreported and is perpetuated by the stigma associated with seeking help. In many cases bullying can lead to suicide. There have already been 5 suicides due to bullying in the Minneapolis-Anoka school district this year, three associated with Gay/Lesbian/Bisexual/Transgender ridicule. The point of wearing a specific colored shirt was to promote prevention and start conversation so that we can put a stop to bullying of ALL people in ALL places: kids and adults, schools and workplaces, to create a community of acceptance. Why one color was pink is due to two high school seniors in Nova Scotia in 2007 who stood up for a fellow male freshman student who was being bullied on the first day of school for wearing a pink shirt. The boys heard about it, bought a bunch of pink shirts, handed them out and texted their friends to wear pink. The next day, nearly the entire student body was wearing pink. They told their community that bullying was not okay. Likewise there is a viral video movement in the cause of suicide prevention called the “It Gets Better Project”. Countless videos online of famous and not so famous people sharing their stories of feeling left out, being bullied, and the pain of not fitting anyone’s mold concluding with the message that “It Gets Better”. In addition, viewers are asked to take the pledge: Everyone deserves to be respected for who they are. I pledge to spread this message to my friends, family and neighbors. I'll speak up against hate and intolerance whenever I see it, at school and at work. I'll provide hope for lesbian, gay, bi, trans and other bullied teens by letting them know that "It Gets Better."
God loves in spite of who we think we are. Deep down, many of us carry a thought “I’m not good enough.” We think we don’t hit the mark; we are haunted by past failure and somehow guilty. The message of humility first gleaned from today’s text can be misunderstood to mean feeling bad about yourself is spiritual. Maybe the church has stressed human sinfulness so much we’ve missed stressing human godlikeness, leaving some people seeking other spiritual communities to heal their pain.
The Trappist monk, Thomas Merton, said, “Humility is being precisely the person you actually are in the presence of God.” That means focusing on God’s presence and who we are in that presence, not on behaving a certain way to earn heavenly kudos. A way to be in the presence of God is to pray. Prayer brings us closer to God and one another. It is a means of restoring the image of God in us. Prayer is the first wireless network of communication connecting us with God, each other and revealing a significant amount about our relationship with God and others.
Prayer is the one activity the Pharisee and the tax collector share in common this morning. The tax collector prayed at a distance not even looking up, in a posture of grief, asking for mercy. He does so with the possibility of drawing closer to God. The Pharisee prays standing above in a posture of being turned into oneself, or self-focused. His is a prayer of thanksgiving. He is thankful that he is good and not like other people. His righteous life-style is his salvation; he is a spiritual bully making sure” the other” knows he’s better.
Ralph Waldo Emerson said, “What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us.” One of the common issues Jesus addressed in his ministry was that of how we build our sense of value, our sense of worth. In the story of the Pharisee and the tax collector, the Pharisee tries to prove his goodness by recounting what a great guy he is. He’s never been to prison, never murdered anyone, and been honest in his business, never cheated on his wife, provided for his kids, gone to church every week, prayed every day. To prove his point he brings up how thankful he is not to be like others who cheat on their wives, rip off the system, drink too much, make easy money. Thank God I am not like that tax collector. I give away a tenth of all I earn and I make it honestly. I contribute to my community.
However good the things the Pharisee can account for himself, he does not go home justified by God. To be justified is to be in right relationship and cleared of all transgressions. It is God’s grace toward the undeserving. Many of us carry dark secrets, addictions, failures, “if onlys”, regrets and none of us are as self sufficient and reputable as we would like others to think. And making others feel bad about themselves won’t help our self-worth either. God loves us in spite of who we think we are.
I must admit I’m a rule-follower and over-achiever, not unlike the Pharisee. Sometimes I get upset with God because I think life should hold less struggles and more rewards for being good. But bad things happen to good people and “bad people” can seem to face fewer trials. So I struggle with Jesus’ words that the tax collector, who is not a likeable fellow, goes justified and the Pharisee does not. Jesus’ audience would have figured his story’s punch-line would have been that both were justified, not that the Pharisee was left out. But this isn’t the first time Jesus told a story like that. Remember the older brother in the story of the Prodigal Son who is upset about being a good son and never having a party thrown for him. Why does the bad brother get justification and I don’t? This is troublesome, for it means that God’s justification is not based on what we do to earn it. We can’t manipulate God to bless us, love us, and work for our benefit. We can’t control God. God is a wild force that justifies in spite of our life-style, prayers, appearance, acceptability, and likeableness. Dr. Fred Craddock comments on this text with:
The Pharisee is not a venomous villain and the publican is not generous Joe the bartender or Goldie the good-hearted hooker. Such portrayals belong in cheap novels. If the Pharisee is pictured as a villain and the tax collector as a hero, then each gets what he deserves, there is no surprise of grace and the parable is robbed. In Jesus’ story, what both receive is “in spite of,” not “because of.”
God loves us in spite of who we think we are. Whatever we think separates us from God is no more. Whatever we have done that makes us think we are unworthy doesn’t count. Whatever it is we think makes us no good is taken care of. Jesus’ death on the cross says to each one of us “you are so valuable, you are somebody, and you are set free from the wounding of your mind to be the wonderful, unique creature that you are.”
And so, I challenge you to take this knowledge of your blessedness and justification in spite of what you think you are to go live life in that knowledge. Living in that knowledge, you cannot stand for bullying of any kind. This is not about approving another’s choices or life experience or even liking the person being bullied. This is about being humane, living out your godlikeness, living out our relationship with God and each other. Jesus might have worn pink. He definitely saw the beautiful child of God that lives in both bully and bullied. Let us each strive to share the good news that we are each worth it and called to treat each other as though we stood in the presence of God 24/7.
Friday, October 8, 2010
What do you tote?
Recently I've experienced a sore shoulder and neck. One reason is the weight of my purse. A Chicago Tribune article showed these results when 48 purses were weighed on August 24 outside Tribune Tower.
* 6 lbs. average bag weight
* 5 participants complaining of back pain
* 8 lbs. heaviest single purse without laptop
* 20.4 lbs. heaviest total load
* 2.9 lbs. lightest single purse
* 9 women claiming to have just cleaned out their purse
Why do I carry all my cards, coupons, 4 shades of lipstick, and those just in case items like a swiss army knife? It's time to lighten my load and keep it simple.
This physical example of bearing unnecessary weight, just in case you need it, applies to the metaphysical as well. What beliefs, stories we tell ourselves, bear down on us unnecessarily? What pain to you tote on your shoulders like a backpack of security? Is it the pain of your divorce keeping you from committing to a new relationship? Is it the fear of past failure slowing your pace toward new adventures? Is it the judgment you received in one religious community holding you back from exploring a new spiritual community?
Consider lightening up your life. Start with the physical - clean out your purse, desk, house and simplify. Then, motivated by this physical environment ease into the deeper emotional and spiritual burdens that weigh down your shoulders and back. Begin with a few simple questions and go from there:
What do I want?
What do I need?
What do I believe?
What can I change?
* 6 lbs. average bag weight
* 5 participants complaining of back pain
* 8 lbs. heaviest single purse without laptop
* 20.4 lbs. heaviest total load
* 2.9 lbs. lightest single purse
* 9 women claiming to have just cleaned out their purse
Why do I carry all my cards, coupons, 4 shades of lipstick, and those just in case items like a swiss army knife? It's time to lighten my load and keep it simple.
This physical example of bearing unnecessary weight, just in case you need it, applies to the metaphysical as well. What beliefs, stories we tell ourselves, bear down on us unnecessarily? What pain to you tote on your shoulders like a backpack of security? Is it the pain of your divorce keeping you from committing to a new relationship? Is it the fear of past failure slowing your pace toward new adventures? Is it the judgment you received in one religious community holding you back from exploring a new spiritual community?
Consider lightening up your life. Start with the physical - clean out your purse, desk, house and simplify. Then, motivated by this physical environment ease into the deeper emotional and spiritual burdens that weigh down your shoulders and back. Begin with a few simple questions and go from there:
What do I want?
What do I need?
What do I believe?
What can I change?
Sunday, August 29, 2010
There's an app for that!
I will not keep silent; I will speak out in the anguish of my spirit. I will complain in the bitterness of my soul. Job 7:11 (NIV)
Ten years ago these were the words of my mouth as much as they were Job's. I had experienced a deep disappointment and my soul ached with bitterness. I remember reading the Psalms as if I had never read them before. Whenever a psalm used the phrase "my enemies," I would replace it with the names of those who had hurt me and received a certain cathartic delight. It was the beginning of a healing process that I am deeply thankful for. Yet I often wonder if the journey might have been easier. Nonetheless most experiences into the depths of suffering and pain call for the courage to speak your grief, acknowledge your place as one with a larger creation - a God's eye view of life, and to be forever changed by the experience.
The Scriptures tell the story of God's relationship with creation and humanities' relationship with God. Complaining and being upset is a difficult aspect of relationships, especially when it comes to knowing how to express one's grief without harming others in the process. Scripture has "an app for that." The Hebrew people were not afraid to voice their complaints to the LORD about the problems of evil and suffering. Their verbal expression of grief make up a large body of literature in the Bible including parts of Job, Habakkuk, lament Psalms, Lamentation (the only book named after an emotion) and much of Jeremiah.
To apply this app to life, let’s begin with Job. Job complained bitterly to God about his suffering. He lost everything, his family, status, wealth, and all means of security and identity in one day. Then he was plagued by a horrific skin disease that left him living in a trash heap. His wife told him to curse God and die. His “comforters” told him it was his own fault. Yet Job would not accept their conclusions. He persisted in his innocence and begged God for a chance to present his case before God. Job got his opportunity, but quickly had nothing to say as God presented a series of rhetorical questions. In these divine speeches, Job realizes he cannot condemn God to justify himself. That he is just one among the many creations that delight our creator and that such a creator has given order to the chaos that is. God restores twice what Job lost and this time Job sees his life from God’s perspective finding delight in what he has, worrying less about keeping everything under control.
The text this morning is from the beginning of Job’s journey into suffering. Job was a man who tried to do the right thing. When his children threw a party, he would pray and make sacrifices for them, just in case they did or said anything that might offend the LORD. Job didn’t like messy. But life gets messy. A healthy pregnancy and birth can end with Sudden Infant Death, a waitress who never smoked a day in her life can die of lung cancer because of second-hand smoke from the job that had sustained her for 30 years, an honor student and promising athlete can be killed in a car accident the day before starting college. We know the messiness; some of us are living in it right now.
These are the moments we realize how little control we have over so much that damages our society and ourselves. These are the moments when God seems silent. St. John of the Cross referred to days of doubt and estrangement from God as “the dark night of the soul.” Henri Nouwen called them “the ministry of absence.” A. W. Tozer called them “the ministry of the night.” Others refer to “the winter of the heart.” These are the terms of deep spiritual transformation that are often instigated by the tragedy and absurdity of life events. Grief, rage, anger and fear flash to the surface of our consciousness. Where do we go with these feelings? How do we express them? Who will listen when we speak? Where is the app for this?
The value of Biblical laments becomes priceless in these moments. A lament is a cry to God with our doubts and our complaints against God. They give us the freedom and permission to be honest about our suffering and allow us to descend into the depths that is necessary before healing can occur. Both spiritual and psychological counseling traditions recognize that speaking our complaints creates a context for surrender. Surrender – the turning of our heart over to God, asking for mercy, and receiving God’s terms for restoration is impossible without battle. To put it simply, it is inconceivable to surrender to God unless we have first declared war against him. A lament is a battle cry against God that paradoxically voices a heart of desire and faith in his goodness.
Hear the battle cry of Job: “I can’t be quiet! I am angry and bitter. I have to speak.” Such words involve deep emotion. To speak your doubt and despair is truly asking, seeking, and knocking to comprehend the heart of God. Praying our grief is a passion to ask. A lament uses language of pain, anger and confusion and moves toward God. It is not mere whining.
Lament speaks the language of the shadow side of faith. The person who hears your lament is someone you deeply and wildly trust. Lament reveals the raw nerve of trust. It cuts through insincerity. You don’t lament to someone who could fire you or threaten a cherished relationship. You don’t trust them. You don’t believe they would endure the depths of your disappointment and confusion. You admit your complaint against God because deep down you believe and have faith in God’s faithfulness, grace, and mercy. By trusting God with our dark side, we share our deepest hurts and disappointments. We know that God won’t give up on us.
The apostle John wrote that when our heart condemns us, God is greater than our hearts and knows all things, and so we can quiet our hearts. In the book of Revelation the Lord says repeatedly to the churches: “I know” – where you live; your poverty, your tribulation, the slander you have to endure. In the Greek Bible, God is called the kardiognostes, the heart-knower.
The great heart-knower has suffered the depths of life’s tragedies. Whatever messes afflict and grieve us to the core of our being, God has seen it, known it, and taken it into God’s own life in Jesus who was crucified, who died, descended into hell, and was raised on the third day. The Old Testament is not the only place we find permission to speak our pain and bitterness for the New Testament bears the cry of God in anguish, doubt, and search. “My God, My God why have you forsaken me?” The cross is the place for every human experience of hell on earth. God knows this; God has been there, and as a consequence we know that God can be trusted.
Mary Oliver in her poem “At Black River” writes: Then I remember, death comes before the rolling away of the stone. Our pain, sadness, and tragedies are often personal teachers that open us to fearless honesty. Like Job, we find a voice to speak our grief. In the depths of our despair the dark soil is laid for the growth of joy and healing. In doubt we live out our deepest expressions of faith. In our battle cry against God we seek truth as we have never done before. Our pain initiates a search, our anger clarifies the demand for relief, and our confusion opens our heart to change. Here we are transformed and truly known. If you are in the darkness of stone yet to be rolled away – there’s an app for that. Speak your bitterness and anger to the great heart-knower.
I close in prayer from Hymn 703 (ELW) “O God, Why Are Your Silent” by Marty Haugen:
May pain draw forth compassion, let wisdom rise from loss;
oh, take my heart and fashion the image of your cross;
then may I know your healing through healing that I share,
your grace and love revealing, your tenderness and care.
Ten years ago these were the words of my mouth as much as they were Job's. I had experienced a deep disappointment and my soul ached with bitterness. I remember reading the Psalms as if I had never read them before. Whenever a psalm used the phrase "my enemies," I would replace it with the names of those who had hurt me and received a certain cathartic delight. It was the beginning of a healing process that I am deeply thankful for. Yet I often wonder if the journey might have been easier. Nonetheless most experiences into the depths of suffering and pain call for the courage to speak your grief, acknowledge your place as one with a larger creation - a God's eye view of life, and to be forever changed by the experience.
The Scriptures tell the story of God's relationship with creation and humanities' relationship with God. Complaining and being upset is a difficult aspect of relationships, especially when it comes to knowing how to express one's grief without harming others in the process. Scripture has "an app for that." The Hebrew people were not afraid to voice their complaints to the LORD about the problems of evil and suffering. Their verbal expression of grief make up a large body of literature in the Bible including parts of Job, Habakkuk, lament Psalms, Lamentation (the only book named after an emotion) and much of Jeremiah.
To apply this app to life, let’s begin with Job. Job complained bitterly to God about his suffering. He lost everything, his family, status, wealth, and all means of security and identity in one day. Then he was plagued by a horrific skin disease that left him living in a trash heap. His wife told him to curse God and die. His “comforters” told him it was his own fault. Yet Job would not accept their conclusions. He persisted in his innocence and begged God for a chance to present his case before God. Job got his opportunity, but quickly had nothing to say as God presented a series of rhetorical questions. In these divine speeches, Job realizes he cannot condemn God to justify himself. That he is just one among the many creations that delight our creator and that such a creator has given order to the chaos that is. God restores twice what Job lost and this time Job sees his life from God’s perspective finding delight in what he has, worrying less about keeping everything under control.
The text this morning is from the beginning of Job’s journey into suffering. Job was a man who tried to do the right thing. When his children threw a party, he would pray and make sacrifices for them, just in case they did or said anything that might offend the LORD. Job didn’t like messy. But life gets messy. A healthy pregnancy and birth can end with Sudden Infant Death, a waitress who never smoked a day in her life can die of lung cancer because of second-hand smoke from the job that had sustained her for 30 years, an honor student and promising athlete can be killed in a car accident the day before starting college. We know the messiness; some of us are living in it right now.
These are the moments we realize how little control we have over so much that damages our society and ourselves. These are the moments when God seems silent. St. John of the Cross referred to days of doubt and estrangement from God as “the dark night of the soul.” Henri Nouwen called them “the ministry of absence.” A. W. Tozer called them “the ministry of the night.” Others refer to “the winter of the heart.” These are the terms of deep spiritual transformation that are often instigated by the tragedy and absurdity of life events. Grief, rage, anger and fear flash to the surface of our consciousness. Where do we go with these feelings? How do we express them? Who will listen when we speak? Where is the app for this?
The value of Biblical laments becomes priceless in these moments. A lament is a cry to God with our doubts and our complaints against God. They give us the freedom and permission to be honest about our suffering and allow us to descend into the depths that is necessary before healing can occur. Both spiritual and psychological counseling traditions recognize that speaking our complaints creates a context for surrender. Surrender – the turning of our heart over to God, asking for mercy, and receiving God’s terms for restoration is impossible without battle. To put it simply, it is inconceivable to surrender to God unless we have first declared war against him. A lament is a battle cry against God that paradoxically voices a heart of desire and faith in his goodness.
Hear the battle cry of Job: “I can’t be quiet! I am angry and bitter. I have to speak.” Such words involve deep emotion. To speak your doubt and despair is truly asking, seeking, and knocking to comprehend the heart of God. Praying our grief is a passion to ask. A lament uses language of pain, anger and confusion and moves toward God. It is not mere whining.
Lament speaks the language of the shadow side of faith. The person who hears your lament is someone you deeply and wildly trust. Lament reveals the raw nerve of trust. It cuts through insincerity. You don’t lament to someone who could fire you or threaten a cherished relationship. You don’t trust them. You don’t believe they would endure the depths of your disappointment and confusion. You admit your complaint against God because deep down you believe and have faith in God’s faithfulness, grace, and mercy. By trusting God with our dark side, we share our deepest hurts and disappointments. We know that God won’t give up on us.
The apostle John wrote that when our heart condemns us, God is greater than our hearts and knows all things, and so we can quiet our hearts. In the book of Revelation the Lord says repeatedly to the churches: “I know” – where you live; your poverty, your tribulation, the slander you have to endure. In the Greek Bible, God is called the kardiognostes, the heart-knower.
The great heart-knower has suffered the depths of life’s tragedies. Whatever messes afflict and grieve us to the core of our being, God has seen it, known it, and taken it into God’s own life in Jesus who was crucified, who died, descended into hell, and was raised on the third day. The Old Testament is not the only place we find permission to speak our pain and bitterness for the New Testament bears the cry of God in anguish, doubt, and search. “My God, My God why have you forsaken me?” The cross is the place for every human experience of hell on earth. God knows this; God has been there, and as a consequence we know that God can be trusted.
Mary Oliver in her poem “At Black River” writes: Then I remember, death comes before the rolling away of the stone. Our pain, sadness, and tragedies are often personal teachers that open us to fearless honesty. Like Job, we find a voice to speak our grief. In the depths of our despair the dark soil is laid for the growth of joy and healing. In doubt we live out our deepest expressions of faith. In our battle cry against God we seek truth as we have never done before. Our pain initiates a search, our anger clarifies the demand for relief, and our confusion opens our heart to change. Here we are transformed and truly known. If you are in the darkness of stone yet to be rolled away – there’s an app for that. Speak your bitterness and anger to the great heart-knower.
I close in prayer from Hymn 703 (ELW) “O God, Why Are Your Silent” by Marty Haugen:
May pain draw forth compassion, let wisdom rise from loss;
oh, take my heart and fashion the image of your cross;
then may I know your healing through healing that I share,
your grace and love revealing, your tenderness and care.
Monday, December 21, 2009
What not to wear this Christmas
Colossians 3: 12- 17
As God's chosen ones, holy and beloved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience. Bear with one another and, if anyone has a complaint against another, forgive each other; just as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive. Above all, clothe yourselves with love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony. And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in the one body. And be thankful. Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly; teach and admonish one another in all wisdom; and with gratitude in your hearts sing psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs to God. And whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.
I'm a bit of a fashionista. I love to sparkle and bling with lots of purple and royal blue. I dress to the way I feel - maybe it's rock-n-roll or a little country or some vintage piece. I costume my exterior to express myself or make a statement. But this text is about what am I going to wear on the inside. Could you imagine a world where we all wore an interior uniform of kindness, compassion, humility, love, patience, meekness and gratitude?
At Christmas I reflect on how the Christ is being born in me. How have I lived out a life clothed in Christ? This year was one of daily transformations and little miracles, of expanding my heart in the context of scarcity and fear. I guess you could say, with a little style advice from Colossians I skirted around what not to wear.
So this Christmas as you open presents of new clothes or don an ugly Christmas sweater, consider what you will wear on the inside? Such simple choices could change the world.
Merry Christmas from CowgirlJazz
As God's chosen ones, holy and beloved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience. Bear with one another and, if anyone has a complaint against another, forgive each other; just as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive. Above all, clothe yourselves with love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony. And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in the one body. And be thankful. Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly; teach and admonish one another in all wisdom; and with gratitude in your hearts sing psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs to God. And whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.
I'm a bit of a fashionista. I love to sparkle and bling with lots of purple and royal blue. I dress to the way I feel - maybe it's rock-n-roll or a little country or some vintage piece. I costume my exterior to express myself or make a statement. But this text is about what am I going to wear on the inside. Could you imagine a world where we all wore an interior uniform of kindness, compassion, humility, love, patience, meekness and gratitude?
At Christmas I reflect on how the Christ is being born in me. How have I lived out a life clothed in Christ? This year was one of daily transformations and little miracles, of expanding my heart in the context of scarcity and fear. I guess you could say, with a little style advice from Colossians I skirted around what not to wear.
So this Christmas as you open presents of new clothes or don an ugly Christmas sweater, consider what you will wear on the inside? Such simple choices could change the world.
Merry Christmas from CowgirlJazz
Saturday, September 5, 2009
Jesus and the Little Cynic
My last Summer Sunday preaching is on James 2: 1-17 & Mark 7:24-37.
As we celebrate this Labor Day weekend we hear a story from the Gospel of Mark of Jesus’ attempt to take his own Labor Day. In the previous chapter 5, Jesus feeds thousands with meager supplies, and then in chapter 6, he royally offends the Jewish religious leaders of his time by getting into a debate over what is clean and unclean to eat or touch. In the end he tells them it’s not about how well you wash your hands or eat the right foods but the value and pureness of what you say and do in life. Since, established barriers, boundaries, or rules of separation between Jewish and Gentile were kosher, Sabbath, and circumcision, his comment crossed the kosher boundaries and was considered appalling. Then, to add kindling to the fire you might say, Jesus has the audacity to go on vacation to a seashore residence in Gentileville! Maybe he thought leaving his own, familiar territory would give him the opportunity to get perspective on his own people, maybe he thought he could re-charge his batteries by the seashore, or maybe this move was to prove a point that would change the future of his followers forever.
This audacity to cross boundaries reminds me of a story by Ernst Kasemann (Jesus Means Freedom) about a church in Holland in a year which had seen rising tides and collapsing dikes. One particularly bad weekend, it was necessary for the town mayor to ask the pastor of the local Reformed church to bring all of his people out to help repair the dikes on Sunday morning or else they might lose the entire town. The pastor called the church elders together who discussed the matter and concluded that they had been commanded to keep the Sabbath holy, so if they perished it was God’s will, but they would not cancel services. The pastor then mentioned Jesus’ violation of the Sabbath law, hoping it might stimulate some further thought. To which one old elder says, “Pastor, I have never before ventured to say this publicly, but I’ve always thought our Lord Jesus was a bit of a liberal.” (www.preachingpeace.org)
The opportunity to liberally challenge yet another social boundary comes immediately as a pagan woman, a Gentile, approaches Jesus with deference, respect, and determined desperation. This isn’t the first Gentile to approach Jesus. Jairus was a Gentile of honorable standing who is helped immediately by Jesus. Yet Jesus turns a deaf ear to this woman. Why? We can surmise from her daughter having a bed to sleep in and her proper approach that she was most likely a woman of good standing and respect. However, it was proper for a male head of family to make petitions not a woman. In gender lies the difference. There were very strict social boundaries and mores to discourage contact between men and women, even more concerning contact between Jews and Gentiles. Yet this woman will not take no for an answer. She is confident in her faith that he can cure her daughter. Her faith that even crumbs would be enough breaks through Jesus’ hindrance to answer her plea.
This passage is one that perplexes many Christians for it reveals a very human image of Christ and it is certainly not an image of “Buddy Jesus.” Although many commentators emphasize Jesus’ use of the diminutive word for dog, Jesus is still throwing an insult her way when he calls the woman a dog. This is what shocks us today. To contemporary listeners of Mark, the shocking fact is that Jesus healed the Gentile girl. It was common conviction that Gentiles were unworthy, that they were dogs. When Jesus hears this woman out and concedes to her clever argument he is re-framing an entire social self-concept. This is one of the most pivotal moments in Christian history. This is the moment of a paradigm shift in which we realize Jesus Christ is not a savior limited to those who are like him. No, Jesus Christ is savior to all!
That’s good news, but maybe you’re still troubled by Jesus calling the woman and her daughter “little dogs” (kynaria, a diminutive of kyon, “dog”). I learned some interesting history relating to that common insult of the day. In the fourth century B.C.E. a philosophical movement began in Greece that was very critical of social and cultural conventions and political institutions. The followers of this movement were aggressive, rude, and sometimes used shameless behavior like barking or peeing on a leg of a table to be noticed and heard. Nonetheless they came to be called kynes, “dogs”, a name they adopted for their movement. The word was later translated into English as “Cynics.” Cynics are associated with being faultfinders, in a pursuit for virtue they are quick to point out the flaws in others. Although, today we think of cynics as people motivated by selfishness or whose outlook is extremely negative, the essence of a cynic is to challenge convention. Jesus is challenged about the customary boundaries that stood in the way of helping those in need by a “little cynic.” (The Women’s Bible Commentary, Carol A. Newsom & Sharon H. Ringe ed. p269.)
In light of this definition, one might call our text from James 2, a little cynical. James is convinced of Christ’s message, to be the savior to all, and points out the sin of favoritism that Christians were and still do practice. It’s human nature to want to stick with that which is most familiar. The great division in culture today has more to do with money and class than even race or sexuality. We are divided by our comfort levels. James challenges that comfort and invites us to take the next step from knowing we are saved and justified by faith to living and acting out that faith. Don’t just believe. Let that belief sink deep into the way you live your life, make decisions, or speak to others. That’s a powerful message and a lifelong struggle for all of us. We all make mistakes and feel unworthy at some point. It’s hard to come back from those moments and live up to our faith, especially if you happen to have a few little cynics around who are quick to point out your faults.
This past week I’ve been prepping for confirmation classes and it is in Luther’s Small Catechism that I found some spiritual relief. In the back of your ELW, pg 1162, you will find the Small Catechism by Martin Luther, specifically his commentary of The Apostle’s Creed. The Third Article on Being Made Holy reads: I believe in the Holy Spirit, the holy catholic church, the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body, and the life everlasting.
Then you find the infamous Luther question, “What is this?” Luther used that question because it was what his young son would say all day long as he saw or experienced something new. “Was ist los, Poppa” Since Luther’s intent was for this to be a teaching tool for parents to pass on faith to their children he considered it the perfect question. So what is this? I believe that by my own understanding or strength I cannot believe in Jesus Christ my Lord or come to him, but instead the Holy Spirit has called me through the gospel, enlightened me with his gifts, made me holy and kept me in the true faith, just as he calls, gathers, enlightens, and makes holy the whole Christian church on earth and keeps it with Jesus Christ in the one common, true faith. Daily in this Christian church the Holy Spirit abundantly forgives all sins – mine and those of all believers. On the last day the Holy Spirit will raise me and all the dead and will give to me and all believers in Christ eternal life. This is most certainly true.
No matter how hard we try, we all have our shadow side and we cannot by our own strength and understanding get past that, but the Holy Spirit can and does. So we have a Savior who is savior to all people and a Spirit that calls, gathers, enlightens, and makes us holy, that abundantly forgives, and grants us the opportunity to take a painful look into our hearts and release the shadows that live there in full knowledge that we may be healed and by being healed, heal others. The blessing of “little cynics” is their ability to point out faults in social rules and mores that prevent universal help, hope and healing. Little cynics help us take ownership of our shadows. Barbara Brown Taylor is a preacher and writer who composed a sermon entitled “Owning Your Own Shadow” in her book Bread of Angels. She writes:
Jesus knows the truth about us and our judgments about one another, especially when we place “some” of God’s children on the other side of a line that we draw: “The danger is not out there, with the people who frighten and disturb us. The danger is in here, in the part of us that wants to cut ourselves off from them. There is actual evil in the shadow we will not own.” (www.i.ucc.org “Be Opened”)
May we all be opened to receive the Spirit and be made holy. May we examine our hearts and minds and release the shadows within. May we cross the boundaries with knowledge and belief in God’s abundant and overflowing grace to all and for all. May we know, this is most certainly true.
As we celebrate this Labor Day weekend we hear a story from the Gospel of Mark of Jesus’ attempt to take his own Labor Day. In the previous chapter 5, Jesus feeds thousands with meager supplies, and then in chapter 6, he royally offends the Jewish religious leaders of his time by getting into a debate over what is clean and unclean to eat or touch. In the end he tells them it’s not about how well you wash your hands or eat the right foods but the value and pureness of what you say and do in life. Since, established barriers, boundaries, or rules of separation between Jewish and Gentile were kosher, Sabbath, and circumcision, his comment crossed the kosher boundaries and was considered appalling. Then, to add kindling to the fire you might say, Jesus has the audacity to go on vacation to a seashore residence in Gentileville! Maybe he thought leaving his own, familiar territory would give him the opportunity to get perspective on his own people, maybe he thought he could re-charge his batteries by the seashore, or maybe this move was to prove a point that would change the future of his followers forever.
This audacity to cross boundaries reminds me of a story by Ernst Kasemann (Jesus Means Freedom) about a church in Holland in a year which had seen rising tides and collapsing dikes. One particularly bad weekend, it was necessary for the town mayor to ask the pastor of the local Reformed church to bring all of his people out to help repair the dikes on Sunday morning or else they might lose the entire town. The pastor called the church elders together who discussed the matter and concluded that they had been commanded to keep the Sabbath holy, so if they perished it was God’s will, but they would not cancel services. The pastor then mentioned Jesus’ violation of the Sabbath law, hoping it might stimulate some further thought. To which one old elder says, “Pastor, I have never before ventured to say this publicly, but I’ve always thought our Lord Jesus was a bit of a liberal.” (www.preachingpeace.org)
The opportunity to liberally challenge yet another social boundary comes immediately as a pagan woman, a Gentile, approaches Jesus with deference, respect, and determined desperation. This isn’t the first Gentile to approach Jesus. Jairus was a Gentile of honorable standing who is helped immediately by Jesus. Yet Jesus turns a deaf ear to this woman. Why? We can surmise from her daughter having a bed to sleep in and her proper approach that she was most likely a woman of good standing and respect. However, it was proper for a male head of family to make petitions not a woman. In gender lies the difference. There were very strict social boundaries and mores to discourage contact between men and women, even more concerning contact between Jews and Gentiles. Yet this woman will not take no for an answer. She is confident in her faith that he can cure her daughter. Her faith that even crumbs would be enough breaks through Jesus’ hindrance to answer her plea.
This passage is one that perplexes many Christians for it reveals a very human image of Christ and it is certainly not an image of “Buddy Jesus.” Although many commentators emphasize Jesus’ use of the diminutive word for dog, Jesus is still throwing an insult her way when he calls the woman a dog. This is what shocks us today. To contemporary listeners of Mark, the shocking fact is that Jesus healed the Gentile girl. It was common conviction that Gentiles were unworthy, that they were dogs. When Jesus hears this woman out and concedes to her clever argument he is re-framing an entire social self-concept. This is one of the most pivotal moments in Christian history. This is the moment of a paradigm shift in which we realize Jesus Christ is not a savior limited to those who are like him. No, Jesus Christ is savior to all!
That’s good news, but maybe you’re still troubled by Jesus calling the woman and her daughter “little dogs” (kynaria, a diminutive of kyon, “dog”). I learned some interesting history relating to that common insult of the day. In the fourth century B.C.E. a philosophical movement began in Greece that was very critical of social and cultural conventions and political institutions. The followers of this movement were aggressive, rude, and sometimes used shameless behavior like barking or peeing on a leg of a table to be noticed and heard. Nonetheless they came to be called kynes, “dogs”, a name they adopted for their movement. The word was later translated into English as “Cynics.” Cynics are associated with being faultfinders, in a pursuit for virtue they are quick to point out the flaws in others. Although, today we think of cynics as people motivated by selfishness or whose outlook is extremely negative, the essence of a cynic is to challenge convention. Jesus is challenged about the customary boundaries that stood in the way of helping those in need by a “little cynic.” (The Women’s Bible Commentary, Carol A. Newsom & Sharon H. Ringe ed. p269.)
In light of this definition, one might call our text from James 2, a little cynical. James is convinced of Christ’s message, to be the savior to all, and points out the sin of favoritism that Christians were and still do practice. It’s human nature to want to stick with that which is most familiar. The great division in culture today has more to do with money and class than even race or sexuality. We are divided by our comfort levels. James challenges that comfort and invites us to take the next step from knowing we are saved and justified by faith to living and acting out that faith. Don’t just believe. Let that belief sink deep into the way you live your life, make decisions, or speak to others. That’s a powerful message and a lifelong struggle for all of us. We all make mistakes and feel unworthy at some point. It’s hard to come back from those moments and live up to our faith, especially if you happen to have a few little cynics around who are quick to point out your faults.
This past week I’ve been prepping for confirmation classes and it is in Luther’s Small Catechism that I found some spiritual relief. In the back of your ELW, pg 1162, you will find the Small Catechism by Martin Luther, specifically his commentary of The Apostle’s Creed. The Third Article on Being Made Holy reads: I believe in the Holy Spirit, the holy catholic church, the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body, and the life everlasting.
Then you find the infamous Luther question, “What is this?” Luther used that question because it was what his young son would say all day long as he saw or experienced something new. “Was ist los, Poppa” Since Luther’s intent was for this to be a teaching tool for parents to pass on faith to their children he considered it the perfect question. So what is this? I believe that by my own understanding or strength I cannot believe in Jesus Christ my Lord or come to him, but instead the Holy Spirit has called me through the gospel, enlightened me with his gifts, made me holy and kept me in the true faith, just as he calls, gathers, enlightens, and makes holy the whole Christian church on earth and keeps it with Jesus Christ in the one common, true faith. Daily in this Christian church the Holy Spirit abundantly forgives all sins – mine and those of all believers. On the last day the Holy Spirit will raise me and all the dead and will give to me and all believers in Christ eternal life. This is most certainly true.
No matter how hard we try, we all have our shadow side and we cannot by our own strength and understanding get past that, but the Holy Spirit can and does. So we have a Savior who is savior to all people and a Spirit that calls, gathers, enlightens, and makes us holy, that abundantly forgives, and grants us the opportunity to take a painful look into our hearts and release the shadows that live there in full knowledge that we may be healed and by being healed, heal others. The blessing of “little cynics” is their ability to point out faults in social rules and mores that prevent universal help, hope and healing. Little cynics help us take ownership of our shadows. Barbara Brown Taylor is a preacher and writer who composed a sermon entitled “Owning Your Own Shadow” in her book Bread of Angels. She writes:
Jesus knows the truth about us and our judgments about one another, especially when we place “some” of God’s children on the other side of a line that we draw: “The danger is not out there, with the people who frighten and disturb us. The danger is in here, in the part of us that wants to cut ourselves off from them. There is actual evil in the shadow we will not own.” (www.i.ucc.org “Be Opened”)
May we all be opened to receive the Spirit and be made holy. May we examine our hearts and minds and release the shadows within. May we cross the boundaries with knowledge and belief in God’s abundant and overflowing grace to all and for all. May we know, this is most certainly true.
One of those Days – Stressin’ in the Wilderness, August 2, 2009
Been a tough week for me, a definite wilderness experience. This is the message I got from the readings in Exodus 16:2-4, 9-15 & John 6:24-35. Exodus 16 is the story of the Isrealites after they've escaped from Egypt and find themselves starving. They complain very loudly about this. God hears their complaints and responds with provisions: quail meat and strange bread flakes called Manna (literally "What is it?").
Ever have one of those days, weeks, maybe even years? You know the kind of day that goes from bad to worse and back to bad again. Somehow you get through those tough times, but not without a well-deserved cry of woe. People are stressing out everywhere with good reason. We live in a time of global economic turbulence. Every one of us is being touched in some way by the loss of jobs, homes, healthcare, pensions and savings, fears of identity theft, rejection in relationships, and diagnosis of diseases. We live in a wilderness of insecurity. We seek relief from our stress by enrolling in stress management classes, learning to meditate or do yoga, getting spiritual, or trying to change our lifestyles. Even these good intentions end up stressing us out. It’s just one more thing to do to make things better, to feel safer, and to finally exhale. Peace and rest is what we’re starving for in our personal wilderness.
Exodus 16 tells the story of grumbling Israelites who are being shaped from freed slaves to people of God. This is a culturally identifying story. There are two lessons here, one is that God is Jehovah Jireh – The LORD our Provider. The second lesson is that we should honor Sabbath rest, for it identifies us as followers of God who trust he is our provider.
The wilderness is an exciting time filled with lessons of trust. No sooner had the people left Egypt than they are being hunted down by the Egyptians. God provides for their safety and the people celebrate. Three days later the people are thirsty and can only find bitter water. God provides clean water to drink. Then on the 15th day of the second month, the people are grumbling again about starving. I don’t know about you, but about now I’d be having my doubts as to how dense and self-centered these folks are, but not God. God hears their grumblings and responds by providing exactly what they need and always enough for everyone. Of course, he does have a bit of a joke on those who are inclined to hoard. You could only gather enough manna for the day; any extra would be spoiled and full of maggots by the end of the day. The only exception to this rule was the 6th day when Israelites were instructed to gather enough for two days and rest on the 7th day, the Sabbath. God was teaching them to depend on Him, one day at a time.
Yet, when one is having a personal wilderness experience, it is difficult to see any good in present circumstances. The wilderness is a place of danger and want. We are tempted to look to the past and see a time of security in comparison to the vast unknowns we find ourselves in. Though our message today is that the wilderness is NOT God-forsaken, it sure feels like it is. That is why I am struck by Exodus 16:10:
“And as Aaron spoke to the whole congregation of the Israelites, they looked toward the wilderness, and the glory of the LORD appeared in the cloud.”
When the whole congregation turned their faces toward the wilderness they were turning their faces away from Egypt. They were forced to refocus. To refocus in the wilderness can lead to focusing in on the important things, truly knowing what they are and appreciating them. The wilderness can also be a space for learning new ways of being that is not based on our identities in the past. The wilderness can be a place of discovery and reinvention. Although the wilderness can feel like death, God can and does provide in ways that fit the insecure and unknown present.
Our gospel lesson from John 6 expands the lessons of Exodus. John 6:32-35 reads: Then Jesus said to them, “Very truly, I tell you, it was not Moses who gave you the bread from heaven, but it is my Father who gives you the true bread from heaven. For the bread of God is that which comes down from heaven and gives life to the world.” They said to him, “Sir, give us this bread always.” Jesus said to them, “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.”
If peace and rest are what we hunger for in our personal wilderness, then Jesus is offering an opportunity to refocus and find what we are looking for. The crowd was focused on their memory of having their needs met the day before, on daily bread. Jesus is asking them to turn their faces from Egypt and face the wilderness where God sustains our lives for life. It is frightening to face the wilderness, the places of insecurity and unknowns but Jesus is no stranger to this fear. You see, God has been to the cross for us and has transformed the life of the wilderness into a life of provision.
A colleague of mine always says, “Where God guides, God provides.” I’ve heard countless stories of wrong turns leading to opportunities for service, a loss leading to new life, a tragedy motivating great change. I don’t know why we find ourselves in “Why me?” situations, stressin’ in the wilderness, but when we do our identity as people of God is shaped and defined. As people of God we are called to trust that God will provide and we are called to honor rest. This is unusual behavior. It is what marks us as followers of God. But don’t worry, you can still have a good cry of woe, God is listening and he does respond, with grace.
Ever have one of those days, weeks, maybe even years? You know the kind of day that goes from bad to worse and back to bad again. Somehow you get through those tough times, but not without a well-deserved cry of woe. People are stressing out everywhere with good reason. We live in a time of global economic turbulence. Every one of us is being touched in some way by the loss of jobs, homes, healthcare, pensions and savings, fears of identity theft, rejection in relationships, and diagnosis of diseases. We live in a wilderness of insecurity. We seek relief from our stress by enrolling in stress management classes, learning to meditate or do yoga, getting spiritual, or trying to change our lifestyles. Even these good intentions end up stressing us out. It’s just one more thing to do to make things better, to feel safer, and to finally exhale. Peace and rest is what we’re starving for in our personal wilderness.
Exodus 16 tells the story of grumbling Israelites who are being shaped from freed slaves to people of God. This is a culturally identifying story. There are two lessons here, one is that God is Jehovah Jireh – The LORD our Provider. The second lesson is that we should honor Sabbath rest, for it identifies us as followers of God who trust he is our provider.
The wilderness is an exciting time filled with lessons of trust. No sooner had the people left Egypt than they are being hunted down by the Egyptians. God provides for their safety and the people celebrate. Three days later the people are thirsty and can only find bitter water. God provides clean water to drink. Then on the 15th day of the second month, the people are grumbling again about starving. I don’t know about you, but about now I’d be having my doubts as to how dense and self-centered these folks are, but not God. God hears their grumblings and responds by providing exactly what they need and always enough for everyone. Of course, he does have a bit of a joke on those who are inclined to hoard. You could only gather enough manna for the day; any extra would be spoiled and full of maggots by the end of the day. The only exception to this rule was the 6th day when Israelites were instructed to gather enough for two days and rest on the 7th day, the Sabbath. God was teaching them to depend on Him, one day at a time.
Yet, when one is having a personal wilderness experience, it is difficult to see any good in present circumstances. The wilderness is a place of danger and want. We are tempted to look to the past and see a time of security in comparison to the vast unknowns we find ourselves in. Though our message today is that the wilderness is NOT God-forsaken, it sure feels like it is. That is why I am struck by Exodus 16:10:
“And as Aaron spoke to the whole congregation of the Israelites, they looked toward the wilderness, and the glory of the LORD appeared in the cloud.”
When the whole congregation turned their faces toward the wilderness they were turning their faces away from Egypt. They were forced to refocus. To refocus in the wilderness can lead to focusing in on the important things, truly knowing what they are and appreciating them. The wilderness can also be a space for learning new ways of being that is not based on our identities in the past. The wilderness can be a place of discovery and reinvention. Although the wilderness can feel like death, God can and does provide in ways that fit the insecure and unknown present.
Our gospel lesson from John 6 expands the lessons of Exodus. John 6:32-35 reads: Then Jesus said to them, “Very truly, I tell you, it was not Moses who gave you the bread from heaven, but it is my Father who gives you the true bread from heaven. For the bread of God is that which comes down from heaven and gives life to the world.” They said to him, “Sir, give us this bread always.” Jesus said to them, “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.”
If peace and rest are what we hunger for in our personal wilderness, then Jesus is offering an opportunity to refocus and find what we are looking for. The crowd was focused on their memory of having their needs met the day before, on daily bread. Jesus is asking them to turn their faces from Egypt and face the wilderness where God sustains our lives for life. It is frightening to face the wilderness, the places of insecurity and unknowns but Jesus is no stranger to this fear. You see, God has been to the cross for us and has transformed the life of the wilderness into a life of provision.
A colleague of mine always says, “Where God guides, God provides.” I’ve heard countless stories of wrong turns leading to opportunities for service, a loss leading to new life, a tragedy motivating great change. I don’t know why we find ourselves in “Why me?” situations, stressin’ in the wilderness, but when we do our identity as people of God is shaped and defined. As people of God we are called to trust that God will provide and we are called to honor rest. This is unusual behavior. It is what marks us as followers of God. But don’t worry, you can still have a good cry of woe, God is listening and he does respond, with grace.
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