Seeing

Try this to get more out of the blog this week by reviewing these elements we practiced together on Sunday.

Choosing to Be Present to the Presence of God.  The very nature of God is life and love.  Restoring, renewing, resurrecting – all these words reflect what God is up to in the world today.  Shalom – a holistic wellness, wholeness of peace in ourselves and in the world – has always been the True North that is God and guides God’s followers.  Joining God in this venture is a choice.  A choice to be present to the Presence of God which constantly encourages us forward to greater expressions of grace, love, and life.  This means you have a choice every day to be open or not to God.  What is your choice today?

This Weeks Focal Text | Genesis 21:8-21 (NLT):

When Isaac grew up and was about to be weaned, Abraham prepared a huge feast to celebrate the occasion. But Sarah saw Ishmael—the son of Abraham and her Egyptian servant Hagar—making fun of her son, Isaac. So she turned to Abraham and demanded, “Get rid of that slave woman and her son. He is not going to share the inheritance with my son, Isaac. I won’t have it!”
     This upset Abraham very much because Ishmael was his son. But God told Abraham, “Do not be upset over the boy and your servant. Do whatever Sarah tells you, for Isaac is the son through whom your descendants will be counted. But I will also make a nation of the descendants of Hagar’s son because he is your son, too.”
So Abraham got up early the next morning, prepared food and a container of water, and strapped them on Hagar’s shoulders. Then he sent her away with their son, and she wandered aimlessly in the wilderness of Beersheba.
     When the water was gone, she put the boy in the shade of a bush. Then she went and sat down by herself about a hundred yards away. “I don’t want to watch the boy die,” she said, as she burst into tears.
     But God heard the boy crying, and the angel of God called to Hagar from heaven, “Hagar, what’s wrong? Do not be afraid! God has heard the boy crying as he lies there. Go to him and comfort him, for I will make a great nation from his descendants.”
     Then God opened Hagar’s eyes, and she saw a well full of water. She quickly filled her water container and gave the boy a drink.
     And God was with the boy as he grew up in the wilderness. He became a skillful archer, and he settled in the wilderness of Paran. His mother arranged for him to marry a woman from the land of Egypt.

Being Honest with Ourselves and God.  What is your heart crying out about today?  Take some time and meditate on this question.  Don’t hold back – you are not going to offend God with sloppy communication in the pursuit of honesty.  Sometimes expletives are highly appropriate in prayer.  Let ‘er rip.  God is mature and graceful enough to hear you out.

Getting your thoughts out.  What are your initial reactions to the text we’re going to look at more deeply today?  What questions do you have?  What is surprising?  What is upsetting?  On another note, who is our world holds power?  Who in our world dwell on the lower rungs of the ladder of power?

The Teaching and Response.  As you read the summarized teaching below, keep the following questions running in the back of your mind.  What’s your take home from this teaching?  What seems to be sticking with you as you reflect on this week’s teaching?  Why do you think that is?  Could God be using this to invite you in some way toward greater shalom personally and/or in community?  What choices are you making to stretch toward the resurrection God is calling you toward?

The story of Hagar and Ishmael leaving Abraham’s camp is better understood in the bigger story in which it sits.  Before Hagar was Abraham’s wife and mother of his first son, she was Sara’s servant/slave.  Her marriage was not born out of love, but was thrust upon her as a mean to bear a child for Abraham.   Perhaps this was not uncommon in the ancient world – that does not make it right or good.  She got pregnant.  Now she was empowered, and apparently she knew it given the report of Sara about her gloating.  Is it reasonable to think that Hagar had attitude toward Sara?  Of course.  She was human, and victimized at that.  But Sara was still Queen of Abraham’s castle, and sent her packing. 

Hagar had the baby, and the baby was named Ishmael, which translates “God hears.”  After some period of time, Sara finally got pregnant in her old age as predicted.  When Isaac (“laughter”) was born, Sara became concerned about his fate: how would he be treated by Hagar, by Ishmael, by Abraham?  Her concern may have led to paranoia: were Abraham and Ishmael making fun of little Isaac?  Was that merely a taste of what was to come?  So she pulled rank, pushing Abraham to send Hagar and Ishmael away.  When Abraham sent them away, he didn’t send them with much, which was awful on his part.  Gaining her freedom may seem like a gift at first glance, but in that culture at that time it very likely meant that as a free woman no longer married to Abraham, her son Ishmael was no longer considered his heir.  In one awful moment, she went from being enslaved yet safe, to free and extremely vulnerable.  Was Sara’s reaction harsh?  Was Abraham’s stinginess appalling?  Yes.  Inexcusably so.  They were human beings, it seems, which means they were messy, imperfect, screw ups.  Yet still key characters in an unfolding story God was trying to craft with willing participants.  As one commentator noted, “God works with individuals on the scene; God does not perfect people before deciding to work through them.”  And so the story continued.

Pushed into the wilderness with little in the way of provisions, Hagar and Ishmael suffer.  In her grief, Hagar is confident that she will die.  At her lowest, she distances herself from Ishmael so she doesn’t have to see him die, at which point she experiences God speaking to her from heaven:

“Hagar, what’s wrong? Do not be afraid! God has heard the boy crying as he lies there. Go to him and comfort him, for I will make a great nation from his descendants.”
Then God opened Hagar’s eyes, and she saw a well full of water. She quickly filled her water container and gave the boy a drink.
And God was with the boy as he grew up in the wilderness. He became a skillful archer, and he settled in the wilderness of Paran. His mother arranged for him to marry a woman from the land of Egypt. – Genesis 21:17-21 (NLT)

This is a beautiful and instructive and surprisingly broad picture of God being shared in this Jewish-oriented text that in general doesn’t have much respect for Ishmael’s line.  God doesn’t hasten Hagar and Ishmael’s death – God instead opens Hagar’s eyes to what she needs to survive, and encourages her with a promise for their future.  Do you realize what a big deal this is?  Sit with it until you do.  This brief passage says much about the breadth of God’s grace for all people regardless of the awful treatment they receive from those who feel especially empowered or chosen by God (Sara and Abraham).  God is bigger and more beautiful.  The nature of God, the Spirit of God is life, restoration, renewal, hope, resurrection.  This story is a story of hope for all the Hagars and Ishmaels of the world. Biblical scholar Phyllis Trible speaks eloquently about Hagar’s becoming many things to many people (see chap. 16):

“Most especially, all sorts of rejected women find their stories in her. She is the faithful maid exploited, the black woman used by the male and abused by the female of the ruling class, the surrogate mother, the resident alien without legal recourse, the other woman, the runaway youth, the religious fleeing from affliction, the pregnant young woman alone, the expelled wife, the divorced mother with child, the shopping bag lady carrying bread and water, the homeless woman, the indigent relying upon handouts from the power structures, the welfare mother, and the self-effacing female whose own identity shrinks in service to others.”

Hagar was blind to the water very near her.  God showed up to help her see.  If you are a Hagar or Ishmael and feel wronged by life, the systems you were born into, etc., the Spirit of God is with you to help you see that you are valued and loved, and that there is hope.  You are not as alone or hopeless as you think.  Cry out to God with all you’ve got, and then be still and listen for God to speak in various ways words of hope and provision.

Biblical scholar Leander Keck notes that

“the text does affirm that God chooses the line of Isaac, not that of Ishmael. This is a strong claim, and it occasions a sharper question for Isaac’s descendants than if the treatment had been more “even-handed.” What one does with the Ishmaels of this world in the face of the claims for Isaac comes front and center. Abraham was chosen so that all families might be blessed through him. This means that the children of Abraham who are also the children of Isaac are so to comport themselves that blessing rather than curse comes upon the nations.” – New Interpreter’s Bible

We who are more like the Sarahs and Abrahams of the world (and we likely don’t know that we are) need to pay attention to this story, because they absolutely blew it.  They were harsh to say the least, and probably felt justified because they were the chosen ones.  Thank God that their harshness was not reflective of God.  Whether we justify our malicious behavior with nationalism or religion or both, we must choose to be conscious of how God treats the worlds Hagars and Ishmaels decide if we are going to be the people of God or not.  One way is harsh.  The other is graceful.  Which way are you going to choose?  Who are you going to be?

Getting your reactions out. What’s your take home from this experience today?

A Prayer of Hope: Loving God, you are father and mother of us all. You love us as only a caring parent can, with a love that challenges all the difficulties around us and embraces us in arms that never let us go. As you have cared for outcasts like Hagar and Ishmael, so can we know that you will always love us. When we want to use family and friends as an excuse not to serve you, help us remember that loving others is a key way to love you; yet we must not see people as an excuse to avoid the difficulties of life that you sometimes set before us. Help us to love family and friends unconditionally, and thus to love you unconditionally, never placing one above another. And as we love others, help us to appreciate how much we are loved by you, our Creator God. Amen.

Hope and Hospitality

On Father’s Day, it seems appropriate to look a story about a father. Actually, it’s a story about one of the most famous fathers: father Abraham…you know the jingle if you ever endured Sunday School as a child. But, as we’ll see, the point of the story isn’t really about being a dad. It’s about faith, and what it looks like when life hasn’t gone the way we want it to. 
The story is in Genesis 18:1-15. It’s long, so hang in there. 
The Lord appeared to Abraham at the oaks of Mamre while he sat at the entrance of his tent in the day’s heat. 2 He looked up and suddenly saw three men standing near him. As soon as he saw them, he ran from his tent entrance to greet them and bowed deeply. 3 He said, “Sirs, if you would be so kind, don’t just pass by your servant. 4 Let a little water be brought so you may wash your feet and refresh yourselves under the tree. 5 Let me offer you a little bread so you will feel stronger, and after that you may leave your servant and go on your way—since you have visited your servant.”
They responded, “Fine. Do just as you have said.”
6 So Abraham hurried to Sarah at his tent and said, “Hurry! Knead three seahs of the finest flour and make some baked goods!” 7 Abraham ran to the cattle, took a healthy young calf, and gave it to a young servant, who prepared it quickly. 8 Then Abraham took butter, milk, and the calf that had been prepared, put the food in front of them, and stood under the tree near them as they ate.
9 They said to him, “Where’s your wife Sarah?”
And he said, “Right here in the tent.”
10 Then one of the men said, “I will definitely return to you about this time next year. Then your wife Sarah will have a son!”
Sarah was listening at the tent door behind him. 11 Now Abraham and Sarah were both very old. Sarah was no longer menstruating. 12 So Sarah laughed to herself, thinking, I’m no longer able to have children and my husband’s old.
13 The Lord said to Abraham, “Why did Sarah laugh and say, ‘Me give birth? At my age?’ 14 Is anything too difficult for the Lord? When I return to you about this time next year, Sarah will have a son.”
15 Sarah lied and said, “I didn’t laugh,” because she was frightened.
But he said, “No, you laughed.”
If you fast forward to chapter 21, you find Sarah does indeed, in her old age, have a baby. Crazy stuff. 
To get the weight and point of the story though, we need to back up. Reading it outside of its context makes it feel like a nice, quick miracle. But that’s not really what it was. If you go back, you find that Abraham was promised this kid a lonnnnnnnnng time ago. And the kid was supposed to bless the entire world. Abraham believes God and then waits. And waits. And waits. To the point that he and Sarah are way too old to have a baby. By the time we get to our story, life hasn’t gone the way it was supposed to. It seems like God didn’t show up as scheduled. 
We get the same message when we see who would’ve been hearing this story. This story was probably told around campfires and at dinner tables for generations. Eventually, it was written down, probably while Israel, the people reading it, were under the control of an oppressive foreign government. God had promised them some things too. Land. Freedom. Prosperity. All for the good of others. But God wasn’t showing up for them either. They would’ve read this story, and felt the weight of Abraham and Sarah’s pain. They knew what it was like to have life slowly grind the hope out of you. 
That’s what this story is about: what faith looks like when God isn’t showing up, and hasn’t for a long time. 
Paul looks at Abraham’s faith in this story and sees something interesting: resurrection. Check out Romans 4:17, So Abraham is our father in the eyes of God in whom he had faith, the God who gives life to the dead and calls things that don’t exist into existence. 
Just before this, Paul spends a whole chapter raving about Abraham’s faith. He holds him up as the model for faith, particularly for the type of faith that leads to resurrection, to experiencing “the God who gives life to the dead and calls things that don’t exist into existence.” If Paul sees this type of faith in Abraham, then we should take a closer look at his faith, because I’m guessing, at one time or another, you’ve felt like God didn’t show up. 
Normally we talk about faith in terms of unwavering trust- believing that God will show up, even when God hasn’t for a long time. But if Abraham is our prime example of faith, then that can’t be what faith is. Just take a look at his track record when it comes to trusting God. 
Somewhere along the line, he and Sarah get impatient with God, have him sleep with one of their young servants (an abuse of power), and have a child with her. It’s also pretty clear that they become cynical along the way. Sarah just straight up laughs at these messengers when they say she’s going to have a baby. And then, even after our story, Abraham accidentally almost lets Sarah marry another man. If this is the example of unwavering faith, then I think you and I are doing alright. More importantly, I think the story is trying to lead us to a different understanding of faith. 
What did Abraham and Sarah do that was so great? Well, you have to keep reading Genesis 18 to get a better picture. Right after the three messengers in our story leave Abraham and Sarah, they go to a place you might have heard of: Sodom and Gomorrah. When they get there, the men of the town gang up and try to rape them. Often, when people read this story, they see Sodom and Gomorrah’s problem as same-sex relationships. But that’s not at all what the story is about. In fact, Ezekiel just tells us directly what their problem was. 
Ezekiel 16:49-50 This is the sin of your sister Sodom: She and her daughters were proud, had plenty to eat, and enjoyed peace and prosperity; but she didn’t help the poor and the needy.  They became haughty and did detestable things in front of me, and I turned away from them as soon as I saw it.
Sodom’s problem wasn’t that they engaged in same-sex relationships. It’s that they were selfish, hoarded their resources, and refused to give to those who needed it. And you see this in Genesis 18. Instead of welcoming these three messengers, they try to rape them – the ultimate sign of control and hostility. The same-sex relationship isn’t the point. Their selfishness and lack of hospitality is. 
Now contrast this with Abraham’s reaction to these three men. As soon as he sees them walk by, he bows to them (a common sign of respect), welcomes them in, washes their feet, and sets a feast out for them (killing a calf for them was an extravagant gesture). 
Now, he didn’t know them from Adam, and life hadn’t panned out the way it was supposed to. Abraham and Sarah had every excuse to become bitter and hostile in their old age, to let these men pass by without a word. But they didn’t. Even when God wasn’t showing up, they opened their lives and home to strangers, and they met God in it. That, according to this story, is what faith is.
We’re meant to look at this story side by side with Sodom and Gomorrah and see how drastically different these three men are treated, and then follow Abraham’s example of radical faith and hospitality. 
Faith isn’t some sort of perfect trust or unwavering hope in God. Abraham and Sarah wavered all over the place. Instead, faith is continuing to be open to and welcome those we encounter in our journeys, even when life hasn’t turned out the way we think it should. Faith is choosing to offer the same inclusive love that God offers, even if we haven’t seen God for a while. 
And, on the other side of it, we just might experience resurrection. Not because God is rewarding us for good behavior, but because we’re aligning ourselves with the divine flow of love and hospitality that’s always at work in the world. We’re wading into a river that’s deeper and stronger than us. And it flows toward resurrection. 
So if life hasn’t turned out the way you hoped, it’s ok to doubt and question God, but as you do, stay open, welcoming and loving to those you encounter, and just like Abraham, you may eventually run into “the God who gives life to the dead and calls things that don’t exist into existence.”
 

Joni Yacoe and Bill Krimm on Communication

Incredibly awesome presentation on effective communication.  Call all your friends over to watch.  Share this teaching everywhere.  Email the video and podcast to everyone you know.

Blown Minds, Warmed Hearts, Refined Lives

Blown Minds, Warmed Hearts, Refined Lives

When the spectacular arrival of the Holy Spirit dawned on the disciples and other believers in Jerusalem, minds were blown.  First, because it was a spectacle of epic proportions: the sound of wind without the breeze, the image of fire atop heads while unlearned languages came forth from the tongues within.  Tongues of fire begat newly-abled fluent tongues to speak to those visiting from afar.  How could your mind not be blown?

But the second reason minds were blown is what the dramatic scene itself communicated.  The Holy Spirit’s greeting wasn’t simply in Aramaic – the language the Jewish people knew well.  Essentially, every language was heard that day, a multilingual miracle using many disciples to communicate to many people gathered round.  God was speaking to everybody in their native tongue.  This implied that God wasn’t beyond speaking to people where they were in ways that they could understand.  It also meant that all those people hearing the testimony about God’s creation were people God deemed worthy of hearing.

I met a foster parent recently who recognized their special role in caring for foster children.  Children needing a foster home are coming from a difficult environment.  Sometimes those kids haven’t been told that they are loved and that they have inherent value.  This particular parent wanted to do everything in his power to correct that – because when our inherent value is communicated to us, it really does blow our minds.  It blew my mind when I woke up to it, too.  Have you awakened to this yet?  Or are you still asleep?

While minds were being blown, we can be sure hearts were being warmed.  Except for limited moments while engaged in ministry when Jesus’ disciples were endowed with the Spirit to minister miraculously in Jesus’ name, the Holy Spirit was for special characters in God’s narrative.  Not fisherman from Hillbillyville.  Definitely not tax former collectors.  Yet on this day, many of Jesus’ followers received the Spirit in a powerful way.  Message received?  God was no longer limiting the Spirit to a select few.  Now all access was granted to those who believed. That’s a heart warmer for sure.  Jesus was gone, and they still mattered.  Because we can look ahead in the story, we also know that the Spirit was given to future believers, too, regardless of previously held limitations.

When we awaken to what God is doing in the world, our hearts warm because we realize God’s love isn’t just for us, but it big enough for everybody.  When we look in the mirror and marvel at the fact that God loves us in spite of our shortcomings – and perhaps more importantly because of our shortcomings – our awakening is humbling.  What’s more humbling is the fact that this love extends even to your idiot cousin.  And your coworker who is in perpetual Monday morning mode.  And your classmate who is pretty sure his stuff doesn’t smell.  And the parent who physically abandoned you, or was emotionally unavailable, or even molested you.  And the drunk driver who killed your loved one.  And the Barack Obama.  And Donald Trump.  And Vladimir Putin.  And Kim Jun Un.  And Bashar al-Assad.  And members or Isis who become suicide bombers, crowd-plowing truck drivers, and pilots who steer planes into World Trade Centers.  And undocumented immigrants.  And black people.  And homeless people.  Every person ever created is loved by God as much as you and as much as anyone else.  When we wake up to this fact, our hearts are so warmed we are changed in our perspective.  It doesn’t make their horrors go away, but it does make us more humane in how we view them and address them.

A lot of people experienced an incredible display of the inbreaking of God.  Pretty cool.  All those people would have felt the breath of God that day – minds blown and hearts warmed – and would have likely lived in hope for the rest of their lives.  But something else equally beautiful happened as well.

In the last few verses of Acts 2, we discover that the wind-infused pyrotechnics show resulted in more than people feeling inner peace and hope:

All the believers devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching, and to fellowship, and to sharing in meals (including the Lord’s Supper), and to prayer.

A deep sense of awe came over them all, and the apostles performed many miraculous signs and wonders. And all the believers met together in one place and shared everything they had. They sold their property and possessions and shared the money with those in need. They worshiped together at the Temple each day, met in homes for the Lord’s Supper, and shared their meals with great joy and generosity— all the while praising God and enjoying the goodwill of all the people. And each day the Lord added to their fellowship those who were being saved.

The experience of Pentecost didn’t remain a personal faith thing alone.  Nope, this was a life changer.  Minds were blown.  Hearts were warmed.  And lives were refined.  Fire and wind have the capacity to burn off impurities and clear out debris.  The experience of God breaking into life changed the lives of many people.  They changed their lives to make room for ongoing learning, serving each other, hanging out together, and prayer.    This led to more good stuff – the Spirit worked powerfully through the Apostles, and everybody shared their stuff with each other.  They sold things so that they could help somebody else out. 

Humanity, at its core, hasn’t changed all that much.  We all still struggle between self-centeredness and other centeredness, between greed and generosity.  Somehow, when people experienced God up close and personal on that day, a shift took place.  “There is always enough for everyone’s need; there is never enough for everyone’s greed.”  Pentecost acted as a refiner’s fire for people like us who struggle with selfishness.  They became generous.

Oskar Schindler woke up and saved 1200+ Jewish people from extermination.  Mother Theresa woke up and served the poorest of the poor in Calcutta.  A friend of mine woke up (one of a series of awakenings in his life) and invested in at-risk children in Kenya instead of a fancy new car for himself.  Another friend of mine woke up a couple of weeks ago realizing that our kids in Africa would trade anything to have our problems, and cut a check for $2000 to help their cause.  Many friends have awakened to what CrossWalk is doing in the world and have giving generously to update our facility so that we can continue to be a space of Good News more effectively – a stage in the Courtyard, a remodeled kitchen, a rehung bell, money to remodel the façade, buy new chairs – the list is huge!  Money spent not for themselves, but for the hope of what we can offer the community.  Of course, time is perhaps the other great commodity we have to offer, and in many of the projects I mentioned, there are people donating untold, unseen, and unsung hours to make it happen.

In a consumer-driven culture that can’t help but determine decisions based on “what’s in it for me”, time and money given for selfless purposes is incredible.  Not just time to work on stuff, but to be together, to learn, to support.  All signs of being awakened or waking up.

And a final piece of good news.  Some of you may long for some tangible experience of the spirit.  You are waiting for the sound of wind and tongues of fire.  But it could just be that the way you begin to experience that is through the behavior that aligns ourselves with God – stuff in the final scene of Acts 2.  Join God in what God is doing, and you are much more likely to catch the breeze that will blow your mind, you’ll more likely sense the flame that can warm your heart, and in the process you will find your life refined into the footsteps of Jesus who totally nailed it.

In today’s dramatic reading, the Apostle Peter asked some penetrating questions:

Are you open to the Spirit speaking to you and living in you? (Pause between each question.) Do you let the Spirit act and speak courageously through you in compassionate and daring ways? Do you forgive yourself and others when mistakes are made? Do you bring hope and new dreams into the lives of others? Do you share in the passions of Jesus for a world of justice and love?   All these things are possible for you. What it means for you, for your church, and for the world is your joyous challenge to discover!

Have you experienced God in some way?  How have you allowed that to impact your life in tangible ways?  Do you realize that the experiences of God are there to call us home?  To align us more with the footsteps of Jesus?  If you’ve settled simply for inner peace, the good news is that there is much, much more for you to experience, and it comes when your life gets refined, when you allow God to remove the impurities and debris that accumulates when we are focused on ourselves.

Will Nesbitt, Young Life Napa

Will Nesbitt brings it on a Sunday led by Young Life Napa Valley, an amazing ministry serving students right where they are.

The Direction of Resurrection

Comparalyzed

I'm telling you the very truth now: When you were young you dressed yourself and went wherever you wished, but when you get old you'll have to stretch out your hands while someone else dresses you and takes you where you don't want to go." He said this to hint at the kind of death by which Peter would glorify God. And then he commanded, "Follow me."
Turning his head, Peter noticed the disciple Jesus loved following right behind. When Peter noticed him, he asked Jesus, "Master, what's going to happen to him?"
Jesus said, "If I want him to live until I come again, what's that to you? You—follow me.” – John 21:18-22 (The Message)

You have to love Peter.  He is so very human like us.  Immediately following his latest declaration of unwavering devotion and love, he finds himself stuttering in the face of reality once more.  The issue that nailed him is one that nails everyone I know, including myself.  He very naturally found himself comparing himself to someone else as a means of determining his lot.  What about John?  How’s he going to die?  Is he going to be martyred, too?  If not, is that fair?  His human tendency to compare himself to others paralyzed him momentarily.  He was comparalyzed.

Comparing ourselves to others is not in and of itself a problem.  Social comparison is a studied issue.  Comparison helps us form our identities as individuals and people groups.  Sometimes, however, we may find ourselves comparing ourselves to others in a way to messes with us in ugly ways, especially if we have a sense that our culture values some qualities more than others, or if there is some sort of social competition involved.

Have you ever compared yourself with others in such a way that you were negatively affected?

Perhaps I’m the only one, but I have been comparalyzed along many lines.  Comparing myself unfavorablywith others along the lines of physical appearance, relational health, and personal success are just three areas that have paralyzed me in one way or another.  Sometimes the paralysis comes because I feel like a total loser, assessing myself as worse off than others.  Sometimes the paralysis comes because of arrogance: I assess myself as better in some way than another. Both stall me out in their respective ways.

Of course, I’m not alone in this at all.  How many women are merciless toward themselves regarding their physical appearance based on comparison with whatever happens to be the current cultural definition of beauty?  How many men feel inadequate because they aren’t where they thought they should be in terms of success?

Theodore Roosevelt famously quipped, “Comparison is the thief of joy.”  Eventually, Peter came around and saw his martyrdom as a great honor rather than a rip off.  Legend has it that when it came time for his execution by crucifixion, he requested to be hung upside down so as not to be equated with Jesus.  No more complaints about John by that time.  Peter worked out his marching orders, growing through it, even, as we see reflected in his letter to the churches much later in his life:

Friends, when life gets really difficult, don't jump to the conclusion that God isn't on the job. Instead, be glad that you are in the very thick of what Christ experienced. This is a spiritual refining process, with glory just around the corner.  If you're abused because of Christ, count yourself fortunate. It's the Spirit of God and his glory in you that brought you to the notice of others. If they're on you because you broke the law or disturbed the peace, that's a different matter. But if it's because you're a Christian, don't give it a second thought. Be proud of the distinguished status reflected in that name! – 1 Peter 4:12-16 (The Message)

Regardless of who we are or how we are shaped, we can learn from this teaching moment between Jesus and Peter.  As Leader Keck noted:

It is in the post-resurrection community’s love for Jesus that he continues to be fully known. To love Jesus is to know Jesus, because, as Jesus’ words to Peter make clear, to love Jesus is to shape one’s life according to Jesus’ life… When Peter three times answers, “Yes, I love you,” he is not simply giving lip service to his love for Jesus, but is in essence pledging his life. Peter is who Jesus calls his followers to be, a disciple who puts no limits on his love, who will, like Jesus, love “to the end”.

When we compare ourselves with others, we fail to appreciate our unique story, our inherent value,  and our potential.  The context of the biblical story we’re looking at is a beachside breakfast hosted by Jesus.  It all began with Jesus giving advice about fishing that led to an enormous haul.  Such a catch required everyone’s help to pull it in.  Everyone mattered and was needed.  When they made it to shore, Jesus had breakfast waiting for them.  All of them.  Everyone was fed.  All of them mattered and each of them needed to eat, which Jesus provided.  We know that most of the 12 disciples were martyred, save two.  Judas took his own life, and John died of old age on the island of Patmos.  We know what happened to some of the followers of Jesus – most we do not.  When we stop for a moment and think about, we realize that the overwhelming majority of the people who have helped propagate the Good News are unknown and unsung.  Yet they were absolutely critical for bringing in the haul of fish who took that bait of the Gospel and chose to follow Jesus.

It's one thing to compare yourself to others to help distinguish your strengths and distinctive qualities.  But beyond that, we’re better off just focusing on how God has uniquely shaped us and called us to our task.  Jesus’ response to Peter wassimply, “You – follow me!”  You are called.  You are gifted.  You are amazing.  You are necessary.  You are needed.  You make a difference.  So be you.  Keep your eyes on what God is doing in and through you.

To help this idea stick, please enjoy this uplifting Ted Talk, and have a lollipop kind of day.

Be yourself.  Everyone else is already taken. – Oscar Wilde

But let each one test his own work, and then his reason to boast will be in himself alone and not in his neighbor. – Galatians 6:4 (ESV)

Come to Jesus Meeting

Some personal stories in our lives we remember because they are so beautiful.  Some we cannot forget because they are so powerful.  Jesus’ disciple, Peter, could not forget the exchange he and Jesus had after breakfast that day.  This would be the third time Jesus appeared alive again to the disciples after he had been killed.  Peter was beyond excited to see Jesus once again.  Little did he know things were about to get really uncomfortable.  He could not have known how critical it was for him – and the future of the Church – that it did.  Here is what is recorded in John’s Gospel:

When they had finished breakfast, Jesus said to Simon Peter, “Simon son of John, do you love me more than these?” He said to him, “Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Feed my lambs.” A second time he said to him, “Simon son of John, do you love me?” He said to him, “Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Tend my sheep.” He said to him the third time, “Simon son of John, do you love me?” Peter felt hurt because he said to him the third time, “Do you love me?” And he said to him, “Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Feed my sheep.” – John 21:15-17 (NRSV)

Simon Peter, or Simon son of John?  My parents, sisters and brother have called me “Peter” since I was born.  For the most part, except for when I am getting formally introduced, the only time I hear myself called “Peter” is when it comes out of their mouths.  When I am with them, I am Peter.  I became Pete in eighth grade.  It wasn’t something I chose.  It just happened.  It was Alex’s doing.  Alex Claypool was probably the most popular guy in school.  Think Ferris Beuhler.  He played trombone, as did I, and we sat next to each other every day in band class.  We became friends.  He called me Pete.  Since he happened to be a demigod at Okemos Middle School, everyone else fell in line with his decree.  Since then, pretty much everybody has called me “Pete.”  But then my sister Ann married a great guy named Ken.  Ken switches it up.  Sometimes he calls me Pete instead of Peter in family gatherings.  It seriously jacks with me.  But I like it, because I need to blend the two together.  The reason I share this with you is to help point out something obvious to me: when Jesus called his disciple “son of John”, you can be completely confident that Peter’s ears perked up.  That was his family name, not his friend-of-Jesus name.

The first time we hear the son of John name is at the beginning of Peter’s journey with Jesus:

Then Andrew brought Simon to meet Jesus. Looking intently at Simon, Jesus said, “Your name is Simon, son of John—but you will be called Cephas” (which means “Peter”). – John 1:42 (NLT)

Simon was what his parents, sisters and brothers called him.  Jesus gave him a new name – and an altered identity – when he began calling him Peter.  I wonder what Peter’s initial reaction was to be called that name from his beginnings as a disciple.  Upon reflection, I imagine he realized that by calling him Simon, something greater was being communicated.  It was.  What was about to ensue was a conversation to help both Jesus and Peter determine who Peter really was, and who Peter would choose to become.  Bear in mind that Peter’s dark moment – when he denied even knowing Jesus the night Jesus was arrested – had not yet been addressed.  Everybody knew that.  There was unfinished business that needed to be addressed.  Starting the conversation by calling him Simon called into question his status as a disciple.  It may have been just Peter and Jesus around the campfire, but I have a hunch there may have been listening ears nearby.

Do you love me more than these?  As it sometimes happens, when Jesus asked this question, Peter was no doubt flooded with thoughts.  Everything in Peter wants to declare allegiance, of course, yet the “more than these” adds a different dimension.  Jesus is most likely referring to the others disciples.  What he is really asking is this: do you love me more than they love me?  That might seem like an odd question, like a child asking their parents who they love more (BTW, if my siblings are paying attention, it’s me).  Jesus asked it, however, because of how Peter behaved in the past regarding his devotion.  Around the dinner table with other disciples present, in a moment of adoration (and a little desperation), Peter essentially blurted out that he would die for Jesus (John 13:34-48).  I bet more than a few of the other followers were thinking, what a brown noser! That’s fair.  And it’s why Jesus is asking the question about his devotion in this way.  In light of the fact that this would-be-martyr couldn’t even handle a guilty-by-association test, would he still be willing to make such a claim?  Is he still a disciple?

As they sit by the campfire, Peter assures Jesus of his devotion.  Jesus gives an instruction: feed my lambs.  Jesus asks the same question again, but this time drops the reference about loving him more than the others love him – no more comparing – do you love me or what?  Peter says yes again.  Once again, Jesus instructs essentially the same thing: tend my sheep.  A third time Jesus asks the same question.  Peter clues in.  The last time he was asked about his relationship to Jesus around a campfire three times in succession things did not go so well.

We don’t generally seek out such moments as this when we are faced to see ourselves in the mirror with such clarifying light.  Peter’s past, present and future all came together in this confluence of confessional symbolism.  His name.  Fire which warms but also sheds light, and also burns.  Love and devotion questioned in light of everything that’s happened.  Who are you?  Who do you choose to be?  Simon son of John or Simon Peter?  The choice was Peter’s to make.  One was to go back to life before Jesus.  One was to be resurrected to being a wholly devoted follower once more.  A choice that would require a stretch.  A stretch for his life in the future.  A stretch of humility in this moment.

We all have the choice to stay put, to even try to go back.  But let’s recognize that it is a choice. We may kid ourselves thinking there isn’t a choice because we haven’t consciously made a choice, but that is a choice in and of itself!  Choose to be Simon son of John if you want.  But if you want to move forward, that’s a choice, too, and the stretch is tough yet incredibly worth it.

To affirm that you love Jesus and are still devoted means you come to grips with where you’ve been and where you are.  This was an accountability moment.  Who have you been?  What have you done?  How are your words of devotion matched up with your behavior?  It’s no accident that Jesus’ instruction to Peter at each affirming was to do something tangible – feed my sheep – and not write another praise song.  Real life change, genuine transformation yields fruit in the form of changed behavior.  How many people shout out deep devotion to God yet have never devoted any time to serving someone else, or for connecting deeply with God, or growing in understanding, or giving financially to the work God is doing in the place you call your home church?  Jesus’ refrain rings again and again: do you love me or what?  Prove it!

This is a literal come to Jesus story, for sure.  You may be glad that you haven’t messed up so badly that you require such a meeting.  Think again.  Not about being a screw up (we all are), but about such a meeting.  In my experience, this kind of hold-a-mirror-to-my-face is pretty normal.  We may not like it at first, but in time, it is a great gift.  When we choose to connect with God on deeper levels that a quick shout-out prayer in the shower or an occasional prayer while stuck in traffic, we can expect the Spirit of God to bring to our attention this kind of stuff.  Questions about who we are, what we’re about, and what it means for moving forward are normal and good.  And essential if we actually want to grow and see a difference in the world.  My hunch is that while Peter may have felt incredibly uncomfortable in that moment, he cherished it, and looked forward to the next visit around the campfire where he could see himself clearly once more.

Are you ready for a campfire talk with God?  What name will God use to get your attention?  How might God craft the love and devotion question for your particular situation?  What instructional invitation might God put in front of you?  These are questions that, with the help of the Spirit, foster in us a quality of life marked by depth and abundance.  The kind of life we all yearn for.  The kind of life that joins God in the effort to move the work of resurrection forward.  Which, of course, is what God has been about since the beginning.

The Worst Resurrection Story

John 21:1-14 might be the worst resurrection story. I know I’m probably not supposed to say that, but I think it’s true. Right before it, you get Jesus breathing the Holy Spirit on his followers, which is a pretty big deal. Right after it, you get this emotional reconciliation with Peter. And sandwiched in between is this:

Later, Jesus himself appeared again to his disciples at the Sea of Tiberias. This is how it happened: 2 Simon Peter, Thomas (called Didymus), Nathanael from Cana in Galilee, Zebedee’s sons, and two other disciples were together. 3 Simon Peter told them, “I’m going fishing.”
They said, “We’ll go with you.” They set out in a boat, but throughout the night they caught nothing. 4 Early in the morning, Jesus stood on the shore, but the disciples didn’t realize it was Jesus.
5 Jesus called to them, “Children, have you caught anything to eat?”
They answered him, “No.”
6 He said, “Cast your net on the right side of the boat and you will find some.”
So they did, and there were so many fish that they couldn’t haul in the net. 7 Then the disciple whom Jesus loved said to Peter, “It’s the Lord!” When Simon Peter heard it was the Lord, he wrapped his coat around himself (for he was naked) and jumped into the water. 8 The other disciples followed in the boat, dragging the net full of fish, for they weren’t far from shore, only about one hundred yards.
9 When they landed, they saw a fire there, with fish on it, and some bread. 10 Jesus said to them, “Bring some of the fish that you’ve just caught.” 11 Simon Peter got up and pulled the net to shore. It was full of large fish, one hundred fifty-three of them. Yet the net hadn’t torn, even with so many fish. 12 Jesus said to them, “Come and have breakfast.” None of the disciples could bring themselves to ask him, “Who are you?” They knew it was the Lord. 13 Jesus came, took the bread, and gave it to them. He did the same with the fish. 14 This was now the third time Jesus appeared to his disciples after he was raised from the dead.

 A fishing trip followed by breakfast. Why would the writer include this? It’s fairly unremarkable, so much so that scholars debate even calling it a miracle. If you’re writing a book about someone’s life, chapter twenty would’ve been a great place to wrap up, but that doesn’t happen, so apparently there’s something worth discovering here about resurrection.
In an attempt to find meaning in this oddly placed text, preachers and scholars have been incredibly judgmental of this fishing trip, suggesting that it somehow represented the disciples’ failure to live into the vision Jesus had for them. But I don’t think we need to judge their fishing adventure so harshly. In reality, they probably just needed to eat. They probably survived off of the generosity of others for the three years of Jesus’ ministry, and there’s a good chance that was drying up. 

So rather than judge it, I think we need to let this story be a little mundane, and see where it takes us. Let’s start at the beginning. John says Jesus “revealed” himself to the disciples (the translation above uses "appeared", but "revealed" is probably more accurate). That term had some background to it. In a lot of Jewish circles, when resurrection was revealed and experienced, it would be a huge deal. In fact, many thought it would be the end of the world. It was supposed to be centered in Jerusalem, and God would bring judgment and justice that finally set things right. It would be an undeniably flashy event that all of creation would see. 
But that’s not how resurrection is revealed here. Instead, resurrection is revealed in the middle of nowhere, to no fanfare, on an early morning fishing trip. Resurrection isn’t what we thought. It’s not always flashy and life-changing. Sometimes it’s slow and barely noticed. It happens in the simple moments of our life, when we choose to orient our life in the direction of love, forgiveness, generosity and hope. Don’t miss all of the small resurrection moments waiting for a big one. Resurrection is available here and now, in every moment of our lives. As George Beasley-Murray said, “"The end of all things had come into history, not as its conclusion, but for its remaking." 

When we read on, we find out even more about this. Jesus reveals himself in some really interesting acts to the disciples that teach us something about resurrection. First, we find that they don’t even recognize him initially. They just think he’s some guy yelling at them with fishing advice. They only recognize him when they catch a ridiculous amount of fish. Again, there’s some context here. There was this common expectation that when the messiah came, life would be more abundant. Check out this quote about the messianic age from around the same time:

The earth will also yield its fruits ten thousand fold. And on one vine will be a thousand branches, and one branch will produce a thousand clusters, and one cluster will produce a thousand grapes, and one grape will produce a cor of wine. And those who are hungry will enjoy themselves, and moreover, see marvels every day…because these are they who have arrived at the consummation of time. – 2 Baruch 29:5-8

Again, Jesus is reorienting their expectations. The messiah is here now. Life is already abundant. There’s no more waiting for a future reality when everything will be better. See life as it was meant to be. 

So now that Jesus has his followers’ attention, they hurry to shore to meet him, and find him again in a strange place: around a fire, cooking for them. Cooking wasn’t exactly a messianic activity. It was, in a sexist culture, reserved for women or their servants. But in this triumphal, messianic moment, Jesus is lowering himself in service, providing them a much needed meal. 
Jesus and resurrection are revealed in service, provision and generosity. If we want to see and experience resurrection today, then we follow suit. Now, this isn’t some begrudging, draining generosity. It comes from a place of abundance. When the disciples roll up and see Jesus has cooked them breakfast, they’re then still asked to give up some of their catch. They’ve labored all night, are starving and exhausted, just hauled in the biggest catch of their lives, and now need to hold it loosely. Give it up. Because there is enough. If resurrection wakes us up to the abundance around us, then it also asks us to give it away, because it was never ours to hold onto in the first place. 

As Americans, we don’t get this very well. We’re individualistic and think we’ve earned everything we have, so it’s our right to keep it. But other cultures don’t think this way. Have you ever heard of the term “Indian giver”? It’s meant to be a slight at Native Americans, but it actually indicts us. In many Native American tribes, there was a tradition of giving a gift when you visited someone. Later, when that person visited someone else, they would pass the gift on to them. Eventually, it would make its way back to the original giver to be passed on again. It was a gift to be enjoyed by everyone, and not possessed by anyone. But when Europeans received a gift like this, they added it to their possessions. Then, when Native Americans expected them to pass it on, they would get angry at them and call them “Indian givers.” It has been suggested that a better term would have been “American taker.” 

This is what Jesus is trying to draw us into: the cycle of giving and receiving that fosters resurrection. But we have a tendency to hold on tightly to our things. Even science is beginning to show how silly this is. Physics is showing us that the universe is not made of up things to be kept, but interactions and relationships to be had. At our core, we aren’t finite matter, but an ongoing pattern of relationships between quirks, molecules and atoms. And the whole universe is this way. 

Physicist Carlo Rovelli explains it this way. We think of life in terms of things and events. A rock is a thing. A kiss is an event. But, with enough time and perspective, we find the even a rock is an occurrence. Over the span of a billion years, a rock appears just to be a collision of sand that sticks together for a “brief” time, just as a kiss is the coming together of two people for a brief time. How silly then to hold on so tightly to our cars, paper bills and collections?

All this to say, Jesus is inviting us into this universal divine dance, that doesn’t see the world as possessions to be had, but relationships to enter into. Relationships we can shape with generosity, service and love. Relationships that can foster resurrection. And this can happen every day, in the seemingly mundane, just as it did 2000 years ago over breakfast. 
 

Breathed to Breathe

Imagine that you are a Jesus follower in the first century CE in Jerusalem for Passover.  It’s the first day of the week – Sunday – the day after the seventh day, the Sabbath (Saturday), which was the day after what we refer to as Good Friday: the day Jesus was arrested, tried, beaten, crucified, and buried.  You are terrified, afraid to show your face in the city for fear of being rounded up by Jewish authorities for your association with Jesus.  You are not hard to pick out in the big city of Jerusalem.  People from different U.S. regions can be identified by their distinctive dialect, clothing, phrases, ethos, etc. As one from the rural northern area of Palestine around the Sea of Galilee, you stand out as well.  Your belt buckle gives you away before you open your mouth.  You decide to wait it out for a few days to let the dust of Jesus’ scandalous death settle.  You stay behind locked doors, huddling together with an unbelievably complex set of emotions: terror, horrible grief, disbelief, shock – you are likely numb having watched your friend, hero, leader, idol be so viciously killed.  Earlier today you got reports that Jesus’ body had apparently been stolen from the tomb, and some “hysterical women” claimed to have seen Jesus.

Now imagine you live in the first century CE, but 50 years after Easter.  Jewish authorities are still looking for you to call you out for your apostasy.  You are seen as a disrupter at the very least, wooing people to abandon allegiance to the Law in favor of following the loose Way of Jesus.  You are still living in fear.  Imagine what remembering this scene would do for you:

That Sunday evening the disciples were meeting behind locked doors because they were afraid of the Jewish leaders. Suddenly, Jesus was standing there among them! “Peace be with you,” he said. As he spoke, he showed them the wounds in his hands and his side. They were filled with joy when they saw the Lord! Again he said, “Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I am sending you.” Then he breathed on them and said, “Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive anyone’s sins, they are forgiven. If you do not forgive them, they are not forgiven.” – John 20:19-23 (NLT)

If the doors are locked, and suddenly a guy you thought was dead appeared, what would your immediate reaction be?  Fear!  Of course!  That’s why Jesus immediately said, “Peace be with you” – the cowering followers likely just soiled themselves.  Now they have one more thing to be afraid of!  Quickly, Jesus showed them his wounds so that they would know it was him (remember that Jesus didn’t look like the Jesus that was hanging from the cross, or apparently much like the Jesus they followed, so this was helpful).  Once they realized he wasn’t going to butcher them, or chain saw them, or claw them, or eat them, their grief turned into joy.  Ecstasy, actually.  I bet they felt high as kites, and it wasn’t even April 20.

It seems that Jesus was pretty sure nobody heard his greeting, so he said it again:  “Peace be with you.”  In the moment those in the room wouldn’t have put this together, but afterwards they would realize that his greeting was really, really good news.  In the Jewish context, if you experienced a heavenly visit without a “peace be with you” or a “fear not,” it meant you were about to die.  Judgment day right now.  This really was a peaceful visit.  And, also in retrospect, they would have realized that they were living in a pattern.  Whenever a heavenly visitor came with a peaceful greeting, it was usually followed by a commission, a directive to carry out some task.  You might want to make a mental note at this point in case you ever experience such a visit: the pattern is that the visit is purposeful – there is an invitation coming to follow God in some regard.

Jesus followed suit as he disclosed the mission: “As the Father has sent me, so I am sending you.”  Let’s look at the obvious here.  The one who was dead but now alive was saying that his followers were being sent just as he was sent by God.  They didn’t have to start from scratch, wondering what they were supposed to do.  The mission did not change.  Whatever Jesus was doing in his ministry is what his followers were supposed to do. No need to reinvent the wheel – just follow in his footsteps as faithfully as possible.

Sure.  Of course.  Naturally.  If you’re a follower in the first century, you’ll just step right outside and start teaching profound insights wherever you go, create a picnic for thousands out of a kid’s lunchbox, heal some lepers, restore sight to some blind folks, and bring some dead people back to life.  Got it.  Are you kidding me?

To make sure they knew they were ever supposed to think they could carry out this task alone, Jesus gave them what he had that enabled him to do what he did.  He gave them a Sherriff’s badge which gave them authority to execute justice wherever they went.  Nope.  Not what happened.  Instead, he breathed on them, anointing them with the very Spirit of God in what must have been an unmistakable experience.

This act of breathing is pretty unique in the Bible, showing up only a couple of times.  First, at the very beginning of the Bible, in the earlier, more primitive story of God creating Adam from dirt (his English name is Claude).  “Then the Lord God formed the man from the dust of the ground. He breathed the breath of life into the man’s nostrils, and the man became a living person” (Genesis 2:7).  The ability to live came from the breath of God.  Similarly, when Israel was feeling completely defeated, God gave a vision to a prophet (holy man) named Ezekiel about what God wanted to do with people who felt like the living dead – he wanted to breathe life into them, animating them into new creations.  In John’s account of Jesus’ life, he remembered Jesus referring to this very scene when he spoke to Nicodemus, a highly educated Jewish leader: the Holy Spirit gives birth to spiritual life.  The take home point for the disciples?  We’re not alone in this venture.  In fact, apart from the Spirit of God, we’re dead from the word go.  By extension, only when we are animated by the Spirit of God are we getting it right.  When we choose to go on our own, that’s when we’re in trouble.

The commission had been given.  The power and authority had been shared.  Yet Jesus didn’t stop there.  He gave one detailed statement for them to chew on going forward: “If you forgive anyone’s sins, they are forgiven. If you do not forgive them, they are not forgiven.”  Got it.  We get to judge people.  Sweet!  Nope.

Unfortunately, this is how some Jesus followers have read this text.  Many, in fact, ever since it was uttered.  People have been forced to walk in shame because church leaders have told them they are in sin and remain unforgiven.  In some traditions, if sin isn’t confessed to an official church authority figure, who would then pronounce forgiveness (hopefully), you’re stuck.  Good for my job security, bad for folks who can’t get an appointment…  Bad for humanity as a whole, in fact.

There is a powerful element of authority given here.  Determining what constituted ethical behavior from a God-inspired perspective was (and still is) part of the role faithful people play today.  For better and worse.  On the better side, within the Bible itself we see that, over time, the Law softened as humanity developed and greater sensitivity was given to people on the margins.  For instance, women (especially widows), children (especially orphans), slaves and immigrants were given increasingly humane rights and protections under the law, with mandates to care for them at the expense of everyone else.  Yep, that’s right.  Everybody was expected to chip in to care for those who were especially vulnerable.  The bad news about this is what likely led to the change in the law: women (especially widows), children (especially orphans), slaves and immigrants surely suffered severely before there was enough outcry to recognize that there was a problem to be addressed, that the people of God weren’t acting very god-like.  Luckily, we learned our lesson, and have never allowed anyone to suffer before we made graceful changes to how we think about ethical behavior or legal provisions.  Unless, of course, we’re talking about women (especially widows), children (especially orphans), slaves and immigrants.  And tack on LGBTQ oriented folks, people who don’t look like us (whoever “us” is), the environment, global economics, and nearly everything else we touch.  The fact of the matter is that people of faith do shift, but often way too slow, and at the expense of those who need help yesterday.  Truly, the Church has much to apologize for and feel ashamed about for how we have carried out this aspect of Jesus’ directive.  We love to divide folks up, calling others out for their sin without seeing our own, or seeing how we are complicit in the struggle of others.

There is a deeper way of thinking about Jesus’ directive, beyond what appears to be legalism.  Perhaps what Jesus was referring to was directly tied to his broader mission of love.  As New Testament scholar Leander Keck notes:

By loving one another as Jesus loves, the faith community reveals God to the world; by revealing God to the world, the church makes it possible for the world to choose to enter into relationship with this God of limitless love. It is in choosing or rejecting this relationship with God that sins are forgiven or retained. The faith community’s mission, therefore, is not to be the arbiter of right or wrong, but to bear unceasing witness to the love of God in Jesus.

The world doesn’t need a new Sherriff.  The world needs deep, abiding love that heals wounds, allows forgiveness to happen, restores relationships, transforms minds and hearts.  The world needs the breath of God.  That breath of God can be found in the community of Jesus followers who have been breathed on in order to breathe into each others’ lives and the entire world.  We do it by learning it, practicing it, modeling it, and extending it.  We image God as we allow the breath to flow through us.  This is our high calling.  We are called to be people who resurrect people with authority based upon our own resurrection.  We have been breathed on in order to breathe on.  Embodying grace is an invitation that carries a choice, a willingness to stretch.  We need it.  People we love need it.  The world needs it.

If you find yourself cowering in fear, or anxious about the direction of your life, or full of life, may peace be with you.  You are loved by God, animated by the very breath of God to carry you through, so that you may breathe life into people and situations where death threatens in myriad forms.  That’s a mission worth getting excited about.  That changes the world for the better.  You get to do this.  So do it.

How Easter is Messing With Us (Sam and Pete)

The women who went to attend to Jesus’ body – to prepare him for burial – were recorded in all four of the Bible’s Gospels as having first witnessed an empty tomb (Matthew 28, Mark 16, Luke 24, and John 20), with Mary Magdalene being the central female among them who was mentioned by name each time.  In two of the Gospels – Matthew and John – the resurrected Jesus himself appeared to at least Mary Magdalene if not all of the women.  Initially, however, it wasn’t obvious to them that it was Jesus – they didn’t recognize him.  Was it because they couldn’t imagine it?  Was it because he didn’t look all beat up like he did when he came off the cross?  Or was it that his appearance was so different that they simply could not recognize him?

Later on, in each Gospel, Jesus miraculously appears to the disciples who were behind closed and locked doors, which initially freaked them out.  Which is why Jesus told them not to be afraid.  In Luke’s Gospel, two disciples were making their way to a village called Emmaus when a stranger met them, walking with them.  It was Jesus, but they didn’t recognize him until he broke bread with them.  In John’s Gospel (John 21), Jesus shows up on the shore of the Sea of Galilee while the disciples are out for a lousy morning of fishing (I know – oxymoron – but they didn’t catch anything, and they were hungry and maybe broke).  Jesus had already caught some fish, and instructed them from the shore to try casting their nets one more time.  They scored a huge haul, which was the tip-off that the guy on shore was likely Jesus.  When they came ashore, however, he didn’t look like Jesus.  Yet they knew it was him. 

Stephen, the first disciple to be martyred for following Jesus, saw Jesus standing in the place of honor at the right hand of God in heaven just before he died (Acts 7).  Much later on, the Apostle Paul (Acts 9) would get stopped in his tracks by the resurrected Jesus on his way to arrest his followers.  He appeared as a bright, blinding light.  The Apostle John, exiled on the island of Patmos, experienced a vision where he saw Jesus looking absolutely other-worldly (Revelation 1:9-20).

I find all of this incredibly interesting.  The disciples and other followers of Jesus witnessed a resurrected Jesus that didn’t look like Jesus.  Yet they recognized it was Jesus.  How do we make sense of this?

I think a clue may be found in one particular appearance narrative (John 20:24-29) which made one of the disciples infamous.  It even gave him a nickname that stuck. Doubting Thomas.  Here is the account:

One of the twelve disciples, Thomas (nicknamed the Twin), was not with the others when Jesus came. They told him, “We have seen the Lord!”
But he replied, “I won’t believe it unless I see the nail wounds in his hands, put my fingers into them, and place my hand into the wound in his side.”
Eight days later the disciples were together again, and this time Thomas was with them. The doors were locked; but suddenly, as before, Jesus was standing among them. “Peace be with you,” he said. Then he said to Thomas, “Put your finger here, and look at my hands. Put your hand into the wound in my side. Don’t be faithless any longer. Believe!”
“My Lord and my God!” Thomas exclaimed.
Then Jesus told him, “You believe because you have seen me. Blessed are those who believe without seeing me.”

In Jesus’ response to Thomas’ awakening, Jesus might appear to be ripping Thomas here, but I don’t think that’s the tone.  I think what Jesus is driving home here, in light of all the people who recognized Jesus even though he didn’t look anything like Jesus, is that we need different eyes to see Jesus after Easter.  Limiting ourselves to the physical limits everything.  We need spiritual eyes.

Jesus spoke a lot about the Kingdom of God.  It’s in you.  It’s around you.  It’s everywhere.  To see it, you have to see with a different lens.  Cynthia Bourgeault offers this insight:

So what do we take it to be? Biblical scholars have debated this question for almost as long as there have been biblical scholars. Many Christians, particularly those of a more evangelical persuasion, assume that the Kingdom of Heaven means the place you go when you die—if you’ve been “saved.” But the problem with this interpretation is that Jesus himself specifically contradicts it when he says, “The Kingdom of Heaven is within you” (that is, here) and “at hand” (that is, now). It’s not later, but lighter—some more subtle quality or dimension of experience accessible to you right in the moment. You don’t die into it; you awaken into it… 

In Jesus’ day there was a division in thinking about reality.  The Sadducees, who controlled Judaism from Jerusalem, believed that there wasn’t anything beyond the grave.  This life is it.  Better enjoy it.  In contrast to this “city-folk” view was that held by the Pharisees, who held influence outside of Jerusalem in the synagogues.  Probably because they lived and breathed with folks struggling under Roman oppression, they believed that there must be something beyond the grave where God would exact justice (since it wasn’t happening in this life).  One view didn’t have any vision of anything beyond the physical.  The other view believed in the spiritual, but primarily in the age to come.  Jesus’ teaching, ministry, and resurrection, however, changed the paradigm.  God is present here and now and then and there in the future (beyond the grave).

If God is not just about afterlife, but God’s presence is here now, then how do we experience it?  Cynthia Bourgeault notes:

Author Jim Marion’s wonderfully insightful and contemporary suggestion is that the Kingdom of Heaven is really a metaphor for a state of consciousness; it is not a place you go to, but a place you come from. It is a whole new way of looking at the world, a transformed awareness that literally turns this world into a different place.

What Bourgeault and Marion are suggesting is that we acquire a new lens with which we view everything.  No longer separating physical and spiritual, we are invited to view everything through spiritually shaped eyes.  With this vision, we see God reflected in everything, everywhere.  Given this nondual insight, we are less likely to see others as inherently evil, and we are more likely to be graceful toward others, and more caring toward creation.  The resurrection of Jesus doesn’t just give us something to look forward to after death; Easter gives us something to look for – and live led by – now.

A disciple of the Apostle Paul would encourage readers decades after the first Easter (Ephesians 1:15-23 New Revised Standard Version):

I pray that the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of glory, may give you a spirit of wisdom and revelation as you come to know him, so that, with the eyes of your heart enlightened, you may know what is the hope to which he has called you, what are the riches of his glorious inheritance among the saints, and what is the immeasurable greatness of his power for us who believe, according to the working of his great power. God put this power to work in Christ when he raised him from the dead and seated him at his right hand in the heavenly places, far above all rule and authority and power and dominion, and above every name that is named, not only in this age but also in the age to come. And he has put all things under his feet and has made him the head over all things for the church, which is his body, the fullness of him who fills all in all.

God is here, now, to be seen, to strengthen, to encourage, to guide, to comfort, to empower, to give insight.  The Ephesians writer gives us further motive to look and see and find and follow this God who has broken into history in such a profound manner at Easter (Ephesians 3:16-21):

I pray that, according to the riches of his glory, he may grant that you may be strengthened in your inner being with power through his Spirit, and that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith, as you are being rooted and grounded in love. I pray that you may have the power to comprehend, with all the saints, what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, so that you may be filled with all the fullness of God.
Now to him who by the power at work within us is able to accomplish abundantly far more than all we can ask or imagine, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus to all generations, forever and ever. Amen.

All of this together helps me understand why we, unlike Thomas, are blessed who believe without seeing: we do not have the luxury (or curse) of seeing physically, so we only have the option of looking with spiritually formed eyes, which, as it turns out, is the only way to see God in the first place.

My hope for you is that you will stop waiting for that someday to experience God, and that you will being to see God now, who is everywhere, speaking into your life today and everyday forevermore.

Cruciform: Getting to Easter

When I began this series, while I certainly challenged the idea of looking at the cross primarily through a penal substitutionary atonement lens (which is closely related to a ransom lens), I do not want to give the impression that that lens should be ground into dust.  On the contrary, fully understanding the cultural context which allowed such a paradigm to exist is critical to interpreting the texts which are replete with references to this rendering of the cross’ meaning.  I respect the view.  But I do not resonate with it, because I don’t live in a time when such a worldview is prevalent.  Staying in the substitutionary atonement zone requires a person to transport themselves back in time, into a worldview that in my opinion is antiquated and difficult to jibe with contemporary culture.  If you are able to pull this off, then by all means, stick with it!  The majority of church culture in the Western world revolves around it – you’ll find plenty of support.  I just ask that you respect the fact that there are completely reasonable, alternative, biblically-informed ways to understand what we can take away from Jesus’ death via an ancient, barbaric, humiliating, horrific form of capital punishment used liberally in the Roman era.  Besides, the whole point of the cross – and the reason we’re still talking about Jesus at all – is Easter. 

It’s always been about getting to Easter.

If experiencing Christ alive again after being dead for three days hadn’t happened, the story would have ended.  I’m not even sure any of Jesus’ ministry would have been remembered in history.  But seeing death defeated, witnessing with their own eyes that there was more beyond this life’s flesh and blood changed everything.  As Isaiah put it, through Easter God exchanged beauty for ashes, strength for fear, gladness for mourning, and peace from despair – the afterword of the call on Jesus’ life to bring hope to the brokenhearted, good news to the poor,  and release to those in captivity (Isaiah 61).  Easter/resurrection changed the paradigm for viewing reality, and defining reality.  God held the final say, and God was not limited to this plane of existence.  This is why the disciples were courageous as they experienced torture and death, and why the Good News is so good.

Easter isn’t just about an afterlife, however.  Easter communicates the possibility of renewed life, restoration, resurrection wherever the tinge of death exists.  Wherever there are ashes, beauty is possible.  Wherever there is mourning, gladness is available.  Wherever there is despair, peace is also there.  Everything about Jesus’ ministry was about getting to Easter – and long before he died on the cross.  Every healing, every word of hope, every act of grace, every confrontation of corruption, every act of service was Easter.  Restoration.  Renewal.  New life.  Wholeness.  Shalom.

By the way, I am fully aware that I am teaching this on Palm Sunday.  You may think that with all of this Easter talk that I’ve got my dates mixed up!  Nope.  We’re still in the cruciform series.  Here is a startling reality: you cannot get to Easter apart from the cross.  The path toward Easter is cruciform.  The way to the renewal, restoration of all things, new life, etc., is in the shape of the cross.

Where would you like to wave a magic wand today?  What would you like to disappear?  Syria’s civil war?  Terrorism?  World hunger?  Human trafficking?  Domestic violence?  Addictions?  Extreme poverty?  Wiping these off the face of the planet would be an act of Easter, a renewal to the nth degree, a true restoration of all things.  Even these massive issues can be “Eastered” – I believe God is already moving (and always has been) toward shalom in each of these and every ugliness in the world.  This means we already have God with us, God’s strength making up for our weakness.  But remember, getting to Easter goes through the cross.

The cross represents a choice and a stretch.  To pursue the restoration we dream after is a choice.  The choice between status quo and moving forward.  The choice between relative comfort and being uncomfortable.  Choosing Easter is essentially saying yes to join God in God’s healing work, to be part of the solution instead of the problem.  Part of the problems of the world are the bystanders who watch and do nothing.  To say yes to God is to no longer be a bystander.  That’s a choice we have the full freedom to make.  To follow or not.  In obviously big ways as well as nearly imperceptible ways.

The reason we all don’t make the choice to join God in the restoration of all things – Easter – is because we are aware that along with the choice comes a stretch.  This is where the uncomfortable part comes.  When we choose Easter, we choose to be stretched in our way of thinking, the way we hear, the way we speak, the work of our hands, the direction of our feet, the recipients of our resources – pretty much everything gets stretched at one time or another as we follow God in pursuit of Easter, of renewal, of the restoration of all things.  Jesus chose to join God to bring about Easter.  It stretched him in every way possible.  Getting to Easter comes with a choice and a stretch.

CrossWalk has designed her belief statement from the biggest themes found in the Gospel of John.  In the middle of the account of Jesus’ ministry, we see where his choice led him to stretch in ways that wouldn’t necessarily come naturally.  He knelt in service to everybody, regardless of their faith, medical condition, social class, or morality.  He spoke forgiveness and mercy to people who had been told by everybody else that they had earned a fast pass to hell.  He developed a pattern of breaking away to connect with God while the party was still raging where he had done incredible teaching and healing ministry.  And he chose to be near people in their lowest times of humility and ugliness as well as time of great joy – because the presence of God is intimately incarnate all the time with everybody everywhere.  Even on the cross we see Jesus’ choice stretch him to behave in surprising ways.

While in excruciating pain, his mind was on others’ needs, too.  He knelt one more time in service as he instructed his disciples to care for his mother.  He issued grace so powerfully when he asked God to forgive those who put him there (which indicates he had already forgiven them).  He cried out with unashamed honesty to connect with God who felt so distant as the fullness of hatred closed in.  Yet even in agony, as another condemned criminal was terrified in his last hour, Jesus was present to him, offering assurance and hope that there was more to life than what they were experiencing.  Jesus’ pursuit of Easter was a choice that stretched him to kneel in service to others, offer grace where it was needed, connect with God, and incarnate the presence of God with one who felt terribly alone.

God is always about getting to Easter, which carries a choice and a stretch that leads us to kneel, grace, connect and incarnate. 

Mahatma Gandhi heard the same call toward Easter, chose it, and stretched in similar ways.  Beloved by his fellow Indians, he used his popularity to call for non-violent protests in order to change the relationship between India and Great Britain.  He even used a personal hunger strike to get their attention.  On one occasion, as his strike endured, would-be militants pledged to drop their swords.  In addition, Gandhi was remembered telling a man who hated Muslims to adopt a Muslim orphan boy and raise him to be a faithful Muslim as an act of healing and restoration (watch video clip from the Gandhi movie here).  Gandhi’s work moved the ball of greater freedom far down the field.  And then he was shot and killed.  But the movement toward Easter remained.

Martin Luther King, Jr. heard a similar Easter call – a call to restoration, of renewal, of justice, of fairness, of equality.  The call to join God in the Easter call came with a choice and a stretch.  He chose to join God in the movement, and it stretched him to pursue justice through non-violent protests when everything in him likely wanted to fight back (which would only have led to more bloodshed).  He found himself kneeling in service, gracing where hatred loomed, calling out to God, and being with people in their most intimate spaces – all in pursuit of Easter (enjoy U2’s tribute to him, “Pride” here).  MLK’s work moved Easter forward significantly.  Then he was shot and killed.  But the movement toward Easter remained.

It’s unlikely that you’ll get shot and killed, but choosing and stretching in response to God’s invitation to sing the Easter song will mean you take some shots.  To your ego, to your calendar, to your budget, to your emotions, to everything about you.  But it is a pursuit of the most important cause, fueled by the very power of God, for the benefit of everyone who lives today and will live in many tomorrows to come.  The Easter pursuit is alive and well at CrossWalk, by the way.  Think about what it has taken for Darlene Tremewan and Helen Simpkins and Karie Nuccio and all the Food Pantry team to bring food to the hungry.  Think about what it means for our Project Hope volunteers to take food to the homeless.  Think about about it means for CrossWalk as a campus to be the home for hundreds pursuing recovery from addiction.  Easter isn’t just about nationally-recognized movements – it’s happening every day in every corner wherever people hear the song and join in.

Jesus himself extended the bold invitation to his followers, and God has not stopped extended the invitation from the beginning of time:

Then Jesus said to his disciples, “If any of you wants to be my follower, you must give up your own way, take up your cross, and follow me.  If you try to hang on to your life, you will lose it. But if you give up your life for my sake, you will save it.   And what do you benefit if you gain the whole world but lose your own soul? Is anything worth more than your soul?” – Matthew 16:24-26 (New LivingTranslation)

Or, paraphrased another way:

Then Jesus went to work on his disciples. "Anyone who intends to come with me has to let me lead. You're not in the driver's seat; I am. Don't run from suffering; embrace it. Follow me and I'll show you how. Self-help is no help at all. Self-sacrifice is the way, my way, to finding yourself, your true self. What kind of deal is it to get everything you want but lose yourself? What could you ever trade your soul for? – Matthew 16:24-26 (The Message)

God has always been about getting to Easter.  But getting to Easter carries with it a choice and a stretch that leads to a very different way of life for a much bigger cause than just our little lives.  The call to Easter is before you.  A call to the cross.  What is your choice?  Will you stretch?

Cruciform: Between Hubris and Humility

Moana was just a little girl when she first felt the call to the sea.  As she grew into a teenager, she felt torn between what her father was wanting her to embrace for her future and the inner drive that was still calling (and encouraged by her wise, aging grandmother).    She eventually chose to listen to that call from the sea and made her way to find the demigod Maui, the only one who could help bring life back to a cursed world.  Little did she know that Maui would end up struggling with his own identity and calling.  Both of these characters found themselves living between hubris and humility.

The Bible is filled with stories of people living between hubris and humility.  In fact, every story of every person in the Bible plays that same story out.  Adam and Eve – representative of humanity as a whole – came to grips with this life tension, as did their children, and every child ever born after that.  Noah, Abraham, Ishmael and Isaac, Esau and Jacob, Joseph and his brothers highlight the major characters in the book of Genesis, the Bible’s book of beginnings where the people of Israel see that this struggle is central to being a human being.  Israel, in fact, translates as “struggles with God” – which is at once sometimes a struggle against God even as God helps us, walk alongside of us in our struggle living between hubris and humility.

Hubris refers to arrogance, pridefulness, a sense of identity that is distorted in such a way that one does not see themselves or others accurately.  Humility is on the other end of the spectrum, where a very different sense of self and others exists.  These terms matter a lot in this cruciform series where we are talking about the cross upon which Jesus died.  The way we view Jesus’ death calls us to wonder about where Jesus was on the hubris-humility spectrum, and absolutely calls us to wonder the same about ourselves.  It is entirely possible to view the cross in such a way that hubris is supported and perpetuated, when the whole picture is really about humility.  The hubris-driven approach sees God as one who requires sacrifice in order to accommodate us, which means we are so deeply fallen that we must sacrifice, and also means that if we get the sacrifice right, we’ve in some way earned our keep (even if the sacrifice is a statement of faith), which means we’re justified, which means others who have not done the same are not, which means that we have something over them which we have infamously wielded throughout history because we are the worthy ones and the rest of the world deserves everything they get.  Hubris writ large over the entirety of human existence.

But I do not believe God was ever really interested in sacrifice at all.  Not birds, not bulls, not lambs, and certainly not human sacrifice.  I believe God accommodated sacrifice because that was (and perhaps still is) the language of humanity.  God spoke in terms people could understand, minimizing the amounts of sacrifices “required” compared to other cultures.  The struggle was still there, however, between hubris and humility.  We usually prefer hubris.  The stories of the Bible, however, remind us that it is humility that works, and is core to our relationship with all reality, including the divine.  What does God really require or want for us and from us, the prophet Micah asked?  Pursue justice, love mercy, and walk humbly (Micah 6:8).

King David, according to the Bible, was a man after God’s own heart.  But if you know much about his story, you are very aware that David vacillated between hubris and humility.  Usually the humility followed his most infamous moment of hubris.  The Bathsheba scandal certainly outshined them all.  Holding all the power, he used his position to have his way with Bathsheba, who was married to a man at war for Israel.  David got her pregnant, tried unsuccessfully to cover it up, and eventually gave the order that led to Bathsheba’s husband’s death.  He kept on living from a hubristic, ego-driven arrogance until one of Israel’s prophet’s called him on it, asking, “who do you think you are taking this poor man’s wife?”  When he agreed with what had really happened (confession), he found himself, finally, operating out of humility.  Psalm 51 was written in response to David’s shift between hubris and humility.  The humility that David came back to again and again is what made him a man after God’s own heart.  Because when we’re humble, we can hear God.

Like David, people in authority struggle between hubris and humility like everyone else on the planet.  The difference is that, by nature of their position, their struggle is out in public for everyone else to see.  The Roman authorities we see in in Jesus’ storyline (Herod, Herod Antipas, and Pilate) all found themselves more on the side of hubris than humility, caring much more about their power than the people they oversaw.  Herod called for the death of the innocents in his attempt to kill Jesus long before he was an adult threat.  Herod Antipas had no care for Jesus if he wasn’t willing to perform to his liking.  And Pilate, while depicted as surprisingly hospitable toward Jesus, still called for his beating and horrific death.

Unfortunately, the same was true of the Jewish religious leaders as well, from the countryside all the way to HQ in Jerusalem.  During Jesus’ ministry they were constantly challenging Jesus lifestyle, teaching, and even his miracles.  He was arrested, put on trial and criminalized at the will of the High Priest, who eventually used his power to orchestrate Jesus’ death.  Hubris, hubris, hubris.

Jesus, on the other hand, lived on the other end of the spectrum between hubris and humility.  He was known not for lording his power and authority over people, but for just the opposite.  He was born humble and stayed that way.  He was with the people – all people – in their struggle.  The poor.  The sick.  The maligned.  The prostitutes.  The tax collectors.  Even Dodger fans (so I’m told, even though it’s not in the Bible).  When it came time for one last supper with the gang, everybody seemed to be living more toward hubris evidenced by the fact that nobody was attending to all the dirty feet in the room.  Everybody, that is, except Jesus:

Jesus knew that the Father had given him authority over everything and that he had come from God and would return to God. So he got up from the table, took off his robe, wrapped a towel around his waist, and poured water into a basin. Then he began to wash the disciples’ feet, drying them with the towel he had around him. – John 13:3-5 NLT

In this scene Jesus displayed his humility in an unthinkable way.  Nobody would have seen this coming, and nobody wanted it to happen.  But why would they be surprised?  This is how he lived his life.  His identity was not based on a distorted view of himself, but grounded on the fact that he came from God and was going to God.  When we choose to live by that definition, while we will still waver between hubris and humility, we will more often find ourselves on the humble side.  Which is what God desires.  Because that’s when life is marked more by justice and mercy and we all get along and the world and its people live in harmony.  Shalom.  Eternal life present.  Salvation realized.  These are ideas that represent God’s end game.

On his way to the cross, Jesus was asked (with attitude): who do you think you are?  The question was asked from people who, all hubris, were living out of their identity as big deal leaders.  Their question revealed what they thought of themselves, and their intention was to shape what Jesus thought of himself.  That’s the funny thing about hubris.  Sometimes it’s all arrogant talk and tweets, chest puffing and the like.  But hubris can happen in the other direction, too.  Sometimes a person’s identity gets distorted the other way and they feel like pond scum.  Jesus walked alongside many of them.  Lepers.  A woman at a well at the wrong time of day.  A bleeding woman.  A blind man.  These folks operated out of a hubris of self-loathing just as powerful as the other.  While they may seem humiliated, it’s not really humility.  It’s still hubris.  With a very different tone, by his actions and words Jesus asked them, in essence, “who do you think you are?”  Jesus wasn’t asking out of a holier-than-thou hubris, nor was he trying to create a scum-of-the-earth hubris in those he ministered to.  He was really, sincerely asking the question of them because he knew that how they answered that question determined nearly everything else about them.  He knew this because he had learned to live on the humble side between hubris and humility himself.  This is where real strength resides.  Knowing who you are, where you come from, and what you are capable of. 

Humility, paradoxically, is where life resides, not hubris.  We notice people with bravado and even respond to it with allegiance at times.  We perpetuate hubris wreaking of fame and fortune and power by what we value with our wallets and ballots.  This is human nature.  We like it until we don’t anymore.  When it comes and bites us and we agree with reality (confession) and find ourselves in a humble place, we can finally listen, finally see, finally get it, finally live, finally pursue justice while loving mercy. 

Jesus’ followers who carried the Good News forward got the message.  Paul told the church in Philippi, “Don’t be selfish; don’t try to impress others. Be humble, thinking of others as better than yourselves. Don’t look out only for your own interests, but take an interest in others, too.”  An early hymn reminded the early Christians what they were to be about: little Christs should look like Jesus Christ:

You must have the same attitude that Christ Jesus had.
 

Though he was God,

     he did not think of equality with God

          as something to cling to.

Instead, he gave up his divine privileges;

     he took the humble position of a slave

          and was born as a human being.

When he appeared in human form,

     he humbled himself in obedience to God

          and died a criminal’s death on a cross.

Therefore, God elevated him to the place of highest honor

     and gave him the name above all other names,

          that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow,

               in heaven and on earth and under the earth,

                    and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord,

                         to the glory of God the Father. – Philippians 2

To the Colossian church, Paul instructed, “as God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience.”

The writer to the church in Ephesus wrote: “Always be humble and gentle. Be patient with each other, making allowance for each other’s faults because of your love. Make every effort to keep yourselves united in the Spirit, binding yourselves together with peace.”

Jesus’ brother, James, advised his readers, “God stands against the proud, but favors the humble…  Humble yourselves before the Lord, and he will lift you up.”

The writer of 1 Peter agreed with James’ theme when he wrote, “clothe yourselves with humility toward each other. God stands against the proud, but he gives favor to the humble.”

Current disciples have resonated with this truth as well:

Do you wish to rise?  Begin by descending.  You plan a tower that will pierce the clouds? 

Lay first the foundation of humility. – St. Augustine (354-430)

It is always the secure that are humble. – G. K. Chesterton (1874-1936)

True humility is not thinking less of yourself; it is thinking of yourself less. – C. S. Lewis (1898-1963)

Pride makes us artificial and humility makes us real. – Thomas Merton (1915-1968)

Show respect to people who don’t deserve it; not as a reflection of their character,

but as a reflection of yours. – Dave Willis

If you are humble, neither praise nor disgrace will touch you

because you know who you are. – Mother Teresa (1910-1997)

Who do you think you are?

Moana and Maui journeyed together to save the world from destruction.  As they faced great challenges, however, their mettle was tested.  Each of them had to work through the question Jesus’ ministry begged of his recipients: who do you think you are?  Moana discovered she was worthy or her calling not because of any external source, but because it was who she was inherently.  Maui decided he was really about doing the right thing instead of the selfish thing. 

Jesus knew who he was.  He knew that he came from God and was going to God, and that gave him great strength throughout his ministry.  This is why he was able to genuinely offer forgiveness to the scoffers who were insulting and spitting on him while he was dying on the cross.  He knew who he was.  They couldn’t touch him.  He couldn’t foster ill will toward them – it just wasn’t in him, and he wasn’t about that.

So, who do you think you are?  Where are you between hubris and humility?  Are you an arrogant bastard?  Do you find yourself wallowing in self-loathing?  Either of these might suggest you are on the hubris end of the spectrum. 

Let me remind you of who you are.  You are created in the image of God.  You are very good.  You are fearfully and wonderfully made.  You are loved deeply, unconditionally, eternally.  You are precious in God’s sight.  And so is absolutely everyone else on the planet who has ever lived, is living now, and will live in the future.  This fact doesn’t make you any less special, but it does equal the playing field and cause us to see everyone – and treat everyone – as we would want to be treated.  I wonder if this is why Jesus said the two greatest commandments are to love God, and to love our neighbor as ourselves.  Perhaps when we do, the world may in fact change.

Where are you between hubris and humility?  Who do you think you are?

Cruciform: The Politics of the Cross

We’re in the second week of our series on the cross. I don’t know if you were messed up by Pete’s teaching last week, but he did a nice job of showing how God isn’t and never has been a God who wants human sacrifice – the primary way Christianity has interpreted the cross for hundreds of years. So then the logical next question is, “If the cross wasn’t about a God who needed human sacrifice, then what is it about?” 

Like any good symbol, the cross has layers of meaning. It flexes and changes as we encounter God in new ways. Ancient Jewish teachers had a metaphor that might be helpful. They talked about scripture being like a thousand sided diamond, that as you turn, reflects light in different ways. That light (the divine) can look different depending on how you turn the diamond, but the light is the same. We could say the same thing about the cross. We can turn it, and experience the divine in different ways. So, now that Pete has maybe wiped away your understanding of the cross, we’re going to turn the diamond during this series and see how the cross reflects the divine in some beautiful and unexpected ways. 

Let’s start from the beginning. Before the cross was ever a religious or spiritual symbol, it had some really different implications. Ones that had a lot to do with power and politics. Marcus Borg once said, “Good Friday has more than a political meaning, but it does not have less than a political meaning." Don’t get hung up on the word politics. I’m not talking partisan politics. The cross doesn’t fit neatly into any current political ideology. But it was originally a political symbol used by Rome. 

The cross was one of Rome’s primary ways to keep the people they oppressed and controlled in place. It was a horribly brutal and public way to die. You were dragged through the street, beaten, and then hung up in front of everyone to slowly die. Then, after you died, your body was generally left up in public to be consumed by scavengers. The entire ordeal was a very public punishment that was meant to show everyone what happened when you tried to go against Rome. 

Theologian James Cone gives us an analogy from our recent history to help us understand the cross. He suggests that the cross was used just as the lynching tree was used in the south throughout the 20th century. When a white community felt that a black person had stepped out of line, even if it was just looking at them the wrong way, a mob would kidnap, beat, torture and hang the person from a tree as a reminder of who was in control – white people. If that image disgusts, angers or overwhelms you, it should. And it’s probably how someone would have felt when they saw a cross in the first century. 

So then what did Jesus do that deserved such a brutal, political death? History tells us that Rome used the cross for two offenses: political rebels and defiant slaves. We know that Jesus wasn’t a slave, so he must have been seen as a political rebel. But why? Let’s look at what Jesus did right before his death to find out. 

Jesus died at Passover. A festival where thousands of Jewish individuals descended on Jerusalem to remember how they were liberated from the bonds of slavery in Egypt. The occasion already had political implications. So Jesus and his followers were headed to Jerusalem for the same thing, and he entered the city in a very interesting way. 

Mark 11:7-10 tells us how it went: 

7 They brought the colt to Jesus and threw their clothes upon it, and he sat on it. 8 Many people spread out their clothes on the road while others spread branches cut from the fields. 9 Those in front of him and those following were shouting, “Hosanna! Blessings on the one who comes in the name of the Lord! 10 Blessings on the coming kingdom of our ancestor David! Hosanna in the highest!”

When a first century Jewish person saw this, they probably would have thought of two things, both of which were very political. First, they would’ve thought about their history. Two hundred years earlier, Judah Maccabees rode into Jerusalem to the waiving of palm branches and shouts of “Hosanna!” What we need to know about Judah is that he was nicknamed “The Hammer”, and for good reason. He was a guerilla warrior who, at least for a short time, overcame Israel’s oppressors on the battlefield. So, when the crowds greeted Jesus this way, it said to him, “Lay down the hammer on Rome!” 

Second, they would’ve thought about what was happening, probably at the same time, on the other side of the city. Jerusalem was a gated city. Jesus came through one gate, and historians tell us that, probably at the exact same time, Pilate was entering the city through another gate, with similar fanfare. Now, Pilate was Rome’s ruler and enforcer in Jerusalem. So we have this charged image of Jesus, Israel’s hope, entering on one side, and Pilate, Rome’s heavy-handed representative, entering on the other side. A collision is immanent. 

In this tension filled moment, people probably thought Jesus would make some big anti-Rome statement, or organize a revolt. But he did something else. He went to the temple – the center of Israel’s spiritual and communal life – and overturned tables. He turned his rage to the religious leaders who were spiritually and economically oppressing them. And then something weird happened. Those spiritual leaders colluded with their oppressors to crucify Jesus. Imperial power merged with religious corruption, because Jesus threatened both. So, together, the religious elite and a dictatorship crucified Jesus. 

A quick side note here: Christianity has a really ugly history of anti-Semitism, and it often is rooted in this story. Jewish people have been blamed for Jesus’ death, which has been used as an excuse for some really hateful acts. The story isn’t meant to condemn Jewish people. It’s meant, in part, to make us have the courage to question those who oppress others, whether religiously or politically. Ironic then that we’ve used this story to oppress others when it should shine a light on the way we oppress others.

When we look at the cross through first century eyes, it looks like Jesus was crushed and defeated as a political rebel. His followers went into hiding, seemingly overwhelmed at Rome’s victory. Whatever they thought Jesus was going to do, ended when he was crucified. But, spoiler alert, that’s not where the story ends. Resurrection happens. Resurrection was an unexpected, eleventh hour victory over the oppression of the cross. It was the divine answer to political brutality. 

Of course, all of this begs the question. What does any of this have to do with today? We aren’t in the first century. So if the cross was a political statement then, what in the world does it mean for us now? We’re in one of the strangest, most divisive political seasons we’ve seen. People across political lines are outraged, confused and overwhelmed by a wide range of issues. How can the cross help us find a way forward? There are endless ways we could explore, but let me start by suggesting two. 

First, I think the cross asks us to locate ourselves and God in this story as we think about translating it to modern politics. Once of my favorite things about the stories in the Bible is that they are bigger than their original context. They let us discover deeper truths by walking around in them. The story of the cross is really important because it locates God in a really unexpected place: in the position of suffering under an oppressive regime. It was meant, in some way, to give hope to others suffering under oppressive forces by locating God right alongside them. The cross, no matter what time in history it is, forces us to see those who are oppressed. So when we look at our modern politics and wonder where Jesus would be if he were around, the cross gives us a pretty good answer: with those who are suffering. So the cross asks us to think about, in every political move, who is being hurt by this? Who does this leave out? How will this cause suffering? And then realize that the cross locates God with those people. 

Let’s take this to a harder place. When we walk around in stories like this, we often walk around in the hero role. When I look at the cross, I often assume the Jesus role. So whatever the cross means must fit my context. But the truth is, I’m not always Jesus. Sometimes I’m Rome. Sometimes I’m the temple leaders. Sometimes I’m the crowd that was complicit. Here’s a helpful test for me: if I have a hard time identifying with a suffering Jesus, then I’m probably sitting closer to the oppressive forces than I am the cross. It’s an ugly truth to confront, but as a straight, white American guy, it doesn’t take many history lessons to realize the world was meant to work well for people like me. The cross asks me to hand over some of that political power for the good of others. We have the courage to face this tough reality because of what you hear week after week: you are deeply loved by God. And so is everyone else. 
Second, I think the cross and resurrection are asking us to elevate our political thinking.  Albert Einstein once said, “No problem can be solved from the same level of consciousness that created it.” 

Israel, and everyone under Rome, had a political problem, and countless people had tried to solve it under the same terms that Rome used: violence and power grabs. The cross and resurrection refused to accept the terms Rome gave. The cross took all of the violence Rome had to offer, and the resurrection showed that it had no real power at all by creating what was meant to be a radically inclusive movement. Others at the time chose a more removed stance. Instead of confronting the reality of Rome, they thought that if they were religiously faithful, God would rescue them. Jesus didn’t take that stance either. You don’t get crucified if that’s your posture. 

So when we think about politics today, the cross asks us to elevate our consciousness to solve the problems we face. Confront oppression head one, but don’t accept the terms you’ve been given. It’s not a binary. You don’t have to oppose something just because it doesn’t agree with your party. We don’t have to think in “America First” terms. The radically inclusive community that the cross set in motion pushed beyond national, ethnic, and gender lines. The cross prevents us from ever thinking it’s us vs. them, no matter who “they” are. So when we think about our political options, drop the binaries. The cross gives us the power to face oppression head on, but with roots in divine love that is big enough to encompass both the oppressed and the oppressor. 

One last, big picture idea. When we talk about the cross and politics, we’re having an incomplete discussion. To talk about the cross in the story of Christian faith, we have to talk about the resurrection. They go hand in hand. They are the pattern of how God, and love, work in the world. We experience the cross – suffering, injustice, corruption and pain, but God is always working to resurrect. Love is always looking to breathe new life into what was left for dead. And if we follow in the path of Jesus, we too are called to foster resurrection. That, to me, is how Jesus informs my politics. In every political decision I make, I seek to bring resurrection in the world. To infuse life-giving love in places that have experienced oppression, suffering and injustice. That resurrection goal can help us transcend partisan divides. We can disagree about how to foster resurrection in the world, but if we share that common goal, we’re far from divided.

Cruciform: Sacrificing Sacrificing

Synopsis.  Sacrificial thinking was (and still is) a primitive way of relating to the world around us, including the Divine.  This mode gives us a sense of control over our world, and our gods.  Jesus’ Way, however, challenged sacrificial thinking at every turn, shifting away from religiosity to relationship.  The earliest followers saw Jesus’ crucifixion and subsequent resurrection as the deathblow to sacrificial religiosity, which is why they talked about it so much.  They focused their lives and faith on living Jesus’ Way of relationship to the Divine at all times.  We need to follow suit, sacrificing sacrificial thinking and embracing Jesus’ Way of relationship with God, others, and our world.  This, by the way, changes everything: how we view ourselves, others, our world, our politics – everything.

How do you show love to babies?  Do you send them flowers?  Maybe a Hallmark card?  Chocolates?  No.  You hold them, snuggle with them, feed them, change them, talk to them, read to them, sing to them, rock them…  Why do you do these things? Because this is the language they can understand.  If we want to communicate to babies, we choose to do so in their language, not ours.

Many cultures around the world practiced animal, and even human sacrifice to maintain or win the favor of the gods.  This was the language of the people trying to communicate to the divine.  Sacrificing gave humanity a sense of control in an otherwise out-of-control-feeling world.  In the biblical narrative, we see the same phenomenon right at the beginning.  Cain and Abel (Genesis 4) offer sacrifices to God.  The story doesn’t indicate that the sacrifice was required, yet God, in the story, accepted one and not the other (the heart behind the sacrifice matters).  Noah offered an unwarranted sacrifice, too.  Why? Because this was the language of faith for them (and still is today in some cultures).  Eventually, sacrifices became a regular part of the Jewish cultic life, but the sensed required number of sacrificed animals from God was greatly reduced for Jews compared to other religions.  Interestingly, Jewish prophets eventually sensed God speaking against sacrifices as a means to stay in good standing with God:

How can I stand up before God

and show proper respect to the high God?

Should I bring an armload of offerings

topped off with yearling calves?

Would God be impressed with thousands of rams,

with buckets and barrels of olive oil?

Would he be moved if I sacrificed my firstborn child,

my precious baby, to cancel my sin?

But he's already made it plain how to live, what to do,

what God is looking for in men and women.

It's quite simple: Do what is fair and just to your neighbor,

be compassionate and loyal in your love,

And don't take yourself too seriously—

take God seriously. - Micah 6:7-8 (The Message)

Jesus, Outlier.  While Jesus apparently honored certain aspects of Jewish religious life, he also challenged it continually (as well as Roman political and theological thinking).  He was famous for flipping currency exchange tables where the Temple was making a killing on sacrificial animal sales.  More significantly, however, his healing and forgiving was happening in strange place, well outside the Temple (where it was supposed to happen), and without sacrifices (which was the symbol and means of forgiveness).  The overwhelming majority of Jesus’ ministry and teaching happened apart from the Jewish cult – all a statement that God had moved outside the Temple long before the High Priest realized it.  Following the sentiment of earlier prophets, Jesus issued a scripture-referenced rebuke of some religious leaders who criticized him for mingling with the “wrong” people: “Now go and learn the meaning of this Scripture: ‘I want you to show mercy, not offer sacrifices.’ For I have come to call not those who think they are righteous, but those who know they are sinners” (Mt. 9:13 NLT).  In this rebuke, he was quoting the prophet Hosea (6:6) who echoed Micah’s position, calling for a changed, loving heart over sacrifices.  Jesus’ death itself followed the same pattern, where his final pronouncement of asking God to forgive was while he was dying on the cross, and at his death, the curtain that served to separate God from the people was torn in two.  What had already been happening in so many ways – God moving in and through many people – was symbolically and dramatically accentuated at his death

After Jesus’ death and resurrection, his followers worked hard to understand how everything fit together.  Each Gospel writer slowed their retelling of Jesus’ life to a relative snail’s pace so that their listeners would catch the irony of Jesus’ death at the hands of leaders of their two biggest political and theological voices: Roman Empire and Judaism.  Recognizing that sacrifice had become completely obsolete since God was clearly working outside the system, they began speaking of Jesus’ death as a final sacrifice with two ends in mind.  First, they viewed him as representative of the blemish-free lamb of God whose death would reconcile all sin for all people for all time.  Because other religious cults also utilized sacrifice as a means to win grace from the gods, this resonated with Gentiles and Jews alike.

Second, however, was the idea that the final sacrifice signaled the end of thinking about God and ourselves through a sacrificial lens.  Sacrificing for atonement was over.  The implications of this are immeasurable.  Paul, who was the most formally educated of Jesus’ adherents, would have logically been the longest hold out in favor of keeping the Jewish cultic practices.  In fact, in many ways he was, as his story lives infamously on as one who sought to kill Christians before he “saw the light” and became one of Christianity’s greatest proponents.  He had to take time to work out the implications of what “final sacrifice” meant.  This was more than an historical footnote marking the last sacrifice (metaphorically, at least, since sacrifices continued right up to the destruction of the Temple).  The sacrificial system itself was just leveled.  With it, the way we think about God also got radically shifted.  Naturally, the way we think about ourselves got shifted as well.

The New Testament writers speak a lot about the cross, largely to an audience who needed to connect the dots about what it meant as a sign of God’s unwarranted grace for all people.  Extremely important and very powerful.  But like the prophets and Jesus, there was also a shift called for in regards to what it might look like to live in a post-sacrificial reality.  Like today, folks could pretty readily embrace the final sacrifice as symbol of God’s grace – their sin was canceled (awesome) – but they struggled (as we do) to move to the deeper implications.  They were satisfied with just focusing on their forgiveness.  This became a sticking point in the early church, as evidenced in the incredible letter to the Hebrews (5:12 NLT):

“You have been believers so long now that you ought to be teaching others. Instead, you need someone to teach you again the basic things about God’s word. You are like babies who need milk and cannot eat solid food.”

Long before Hebrews was written, Paul shared the same frustration with the Jesus followers in Corinth (1 Cor. 3:1-3 NLT):

“Dear brothers and sisters, when I was with you I couldn’t talk to you as I would to spiritual people. I had to talk as though you belonged to this world or as though you were infants in the Christian life. I had to feed you with milk, not with solid food, because you weren’t ready for anything stronger. And you still aren’t ready, for you are still controlled by your sinful nature. You are jealous of one another and quarrel with each other. Doesn’t that prove you are controlled by your sinful nature? Aren’t you living like people of the world?”

The writers’ frustration is that the Jesus followers were stuck on level one of the cross: we’re forgiven, but had not yet moved deeper into its broader implications.  What was the proof Paul leveled against the Corinthians?  Their lives had not yet changed.  They were still acting as they did before, only they had a new mode of embracing forgiveness (the cross of Jesus).

For Jesus followers, the final sacrifice means we need to sacrifice our idea of God as one who wants sacrifices.  Sacrifices are over – that implies that God does not want them.  I contend that God has never wanted them…  If this is the true nature of God, then not only is our view of God shifted, but our view of ourselves as well.  What does it mean for us to no longer wallow about with a view of ourselves as constantly stuck in sin at our core – despised by God and disgusting in God’s sight?  What does it mean that we are forevermore reconciled to God?  No longer looked upon with eyes of condemnation and demands placed upon us by our religious traditions, but free to live knowing God is no longer hidden behind the veil as is actually with us and for us and empowering us toward being fully and truly alive as we were meant to live?

It’s time to sacrifice sacrifice.  While we need to celebrate with humility what Jesus’ death and resurrection symbolized, we also are called to move to the solid food of living in the new reality of grace.  You are not a loser.  You are inherently good.  You do not need to keep looking over your shoulder – the only thing there is a cross and an empty tomb shouting that you’re okay.  This is not a denial of our human struggle, by the way – it is an act of embracing our actual, rock-solid foundation that has been there from the beginning.  You were born human yet in the image of God.  How are you living into that image which has been there all along?  How are you rooted in life that is eternal, and eternally good?  What are you dreaming about that is aligned with the character and nature of God?  Hint: God is marked most by love – when our dreams are marked and motivated and moved by love, we’ve found out center.

The writer of Hebrews argued it like this (10:10, 14, 18 NLT):

“For God’s will was for us to be made holy by the sacrifice of the body of Jesus Christ, once for all time…  For by that one offering he forever made perfect those who are being made holy…  And when sins have been forgiven, there is no need to offer any more sacrifices.”

Paul challenges us forward (Romans 7:6; 8:3-4; 15-17, 38-39 NLT):

“But now we have been released from the law, for we died to it and are no longer captive to its power. Now we can serve God, not in the old way of obeying the letter of the law, but in the new way of living in the Spirit…  God declared an end to sin’s control over us by giving his Son as a sacrifice for our sins. He did this so that the just requirement of the law would be fully satisfied for us, who no longer follow our sinful nature but instead follow the Spirit…  So you have not received a spirit that makes you fearful slaves. Instead, you received God’s Spirit when he adopted you as his own children. Now we call him, “Abba, Father.” For his Spirit joins with our spirit to affirm that we are God’s children. And since we are his children, we are his heirs. In fact, together with Christ we are heirs of God’s glory…  And I am convinced that nothing can ever separate us from God’s love. Neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither our fears for today nor our worries about tomorrow—not even the powers of hell can separate us from God’s love. No power in the sky above or in the earth below—indeed, nothing in all creation will ever be able to separate us from the love of God that is revealed in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

Do you have ears to hear?  You are forgiven – embrace it.  You are free – live like it.  You have not been given a spirit of fear, but of power, love, and self-discipline (2 Tim 1:7).  Lost the idea that you are a loser.  Embrace the idea that God loves you and build your life on the foundation that God is for you and with you.

Watch the video here.

2017 Furaha Presentation

Enjoy the latest report from the latest team to venture into Huruma slum, just outside of Nairobi, Kenya, where our beloved Furaha Community Center educates the 500 orphans we feed each school day.

Jesus and Homosexuality

Note:  For deeper study of this issue, read Homoeroticism in the Biblical World by Martti Nissinen.  For insight how to engage in respectful conversations with people who don't share your views on biblical interpretation, read A Letter to my Congregation by Ken Wilson.  For a general understanding of how I approach, value, and apply the biblical text, Pastor Adam Hamilton wrote an easy-to-read book for his congregation entitled Making Sense of the Bible.  I fully agree with his approach.  In the Appendix, he also deals with this same subject well.

What color is the dress pictured here? This dress has become quite famous over the last couple of weeks because people are so divided about what they see. My daughter asked me what I saw, and without hesitation I told her the dress was blue with black lace. My son, who had seen the same picture, objected with “No way! What are you talking about?” Then my wife looked at it and answered my daughter, “It a white dress with gold lace.” Depending on your visual cortex wiring, some people will see blue and black, while others see white and gold. The issue of homosexuality in the Church is like that. Some people see it clearly as a non-negotiable sin, while others do not see our current issue as sinful at all. My hope is that this brief teaching will give you information to help you understand what you believe and why.

Think about this statement: Loving, covenanted, same-gender sexual expression can be compatible with being a committed follower of Christ. Do you agree with it or disagree? Why? Has your response been the same throughout your life? If not, what changed? Is your response similar or different from your family of origin? Knowing what we currently believe – and why – is very important as we consider the information we have to work with.

Now I’d like you to consider your opinion of the Bible. Which statement most closely aligns with your view?

o The Bible is literally breathed from God – every word is exactly what God intended – read it and do it!

o The Bible is inspired by God through human writers, but the inspiration overrode the human element sufficiently so that on the important content is what God wants us to know.

o The Bible was written by devout, prayerful humans who earnestly invited God into their writing process so that they were at times inspired with heaven-born insight. Inspiration is equally in the careful, prayerful interpretation among the faithful.

o The Bible is an entirely human creation on par with Greek myths of antiquity and should be treated as descriptive of its historical paradigms, but beyond very general principles does not speak to our present age.

How you view the Bible makes a significant difference with this issue – and many issues. If you most closely align with one of the first two statements, it may feel as simple as looking up some verses and making your decision – it’s right there in black and white. To question any part of the Bible is to question all parts of the Bible, which then undermines its authority. For you, then, it will be very important to know what the Bible says in its original language (Hebrew or Greek). We’ll get to that. If you most closely resonated with the third answer, you are also going to want to know about the original language and context as you determine how one should apply a text forward. Fourth option people don’t really care what the Bible says, and probably aren’t reading this anyway… The first three views are held by people who share respect for the Bible and also treat it as an authority for their faith. But realize that especially between the first two and third option, the blue/black or white/gold dress phenomenon occurs, with each group questioning the others’ sanity.

Before we take a look at the texts that address the subject of homosexuality, I want you to know something about how our brains work. When we hear something new, we try our best to understand it based on what we already know. We’ll label it with familiar terminology and metaphor. The car was first called a horseless carriage… If it doesn’t fit our way of seeing the world, however, over time we will discard the idea and forget about it. New ideas are difficult to integrate. In fact, sometimes we will reject an idea simply because it is foreign, like an organ transplant recipient rejecting the organ that is saving his or her life. Be open to what you read and how you feel. Be aware that every cultural shift was met with resistance.

There are 31,102 verses in the entire Bible. Given how much attention has been given the issue of homosexuality, we can safely assume that there must be a lot of verses on the subject. In fact, there are only seven texts in the entire Bible that deal specifically with homosexuality. Here they are, with brief explanations of their context.

·       Genesis 2:20-25 (Adam and Eve). The creation stories in Genesis, first and foremost, were to draw a clear distinction between the Jewish understanding of the creation of the cosmos in contrast to all others. When it comes to God creating male and female and that they were made for each other is shocking because God called them very good – much different than other cultures which believed the gods could barely tolerate humans. Obviously, procreation requires a male and female, and was the earliest motive for marriage. We live in a time where committed, lifelong, loving companionship is the primary reason for marriage, with procreation as a part of the equation but not the primary reason. There was no paradigm in the ancient world for sexual orientation, which makes this process reliant on theology more than exegesis.

·       Genesis 19:1-29 (Sodom and Gomorrah). This story is about violence, humiliation, and rape – not what we’re looking at.

·       Judges 19:1-30 (Levite and Concubine). Similar to Sodom and Gomorrah, this is a tragic story of rape, not love.

·       Leviticus 18:22, 20:13 (ceremonial and other sex laws). These specific laws refer to cultic practices outside of Judaism that involved temple prostitutes. The tip-off that this is the case is the word/phrase that gets translated as “it is an abomination”. The only time the writer of Leviticus uses that phrase is in the context of an act of worship to pagan gods.

·       Romans 1:18-27 (Paul’s “Gotcha!” Don’t judge.). Two things here. First, the same type of same-gender sex is what’s being talked about here. Second, Paul is suckering his audience using their own prejudices only to hold them to the same measure – they are as guilty and in need of grace as those they loathe. The last thing Paul was trying to do here is grant permission to judge people!

·       1 Corinthians 6:9-17 (sexual immorality). Same issue as the others – not what we’re talking about today.

·       1 Timothy 1:10 (perverts!). The Greek words used for homosexuality in this and the Corinthians verse

·       Jude 5-7 (general immorality/promiscuity). This short letter written by one of Jesus’ brothers simply highlights promiscuity in general, which most likely inferred the use of male prostitutes by the upper class. Once again, the sexual expression addressed here is one of exploitation.

I don’t know any person of faith that cannot get on board and affirm what every single one of the above seven texts are speaking into. Collectively, they condemn rape, cult prostitution, and the exploitation of minors. Anybody who seeks to love God and love others should stand against all of these things. But what do we do with the reality that none of these verses speaks anything close to what we’re talking about in this teaching? What about the fact that Jesus never uttered a word about homosexuality? He endorsed regular old heterosexual marriage, and spoke against promiscuity, prostitution, lust, and non-shalom sex altogether. In order to reconcile this mismatch, cultural and historical context must be addressed.

If we were to build a time machine and go back to a day when Jesus was teaching somewhere and asked him if he thought same-sex marriage was okay, what do you think he would say? Without a doubt, in 35 CE, Jesus would say “NO”. The reason I am confident that this would be his answer is because the only paradigm of homosexual expression available to them was violent. Rape. Prostitution. Exploitation. No faithful Jewish person would think these acceptable. So, does that settle it? Not necessarily. If you were to ask Jesus to share his wisdom regarding cosmology – the study of the universe – including how the solar system works and the basic shape of the earth, you would not take his answers seriously. He could only guess that the sun revolved around the earth. He could only surmise that the earth was sort of shaped like a snow globe with God’s heaven outside the “globe”, hatches that could be opened to let water rain on the land below, and an underworld where the dead reside – all describing the image given in Genesis. Do we blame him for holding such views? Of course not – it’s all he and everyone else in his time could come up with given their primitive stage of scientific development.

What would happen if we took Jesus in our time machine and rolled into 2015, somehow simultaneously downloading all the scientific knowledge that we’ve acquired over the millennia? I am confident that he would act like the Jewish scholars before him: he would take all the available information available to him as he sought to interpret the sacred texts. He would affirm God’s creative influence noted in Genesis 1, but would likely let the details slide about the order of creation and the shape of the earth alluded to with the word “firmament.” Sexual orientation – the idea that people are born attracted more to the one gender than the other, which means some are attracted to the same gender – was a completely foreign idea in the ancient world. Being introduced to a paradigm of homosexuality that can be expressed with the same level of mutual love and devotion – shalom sex – as heterosexuality would be a radically new thought to them. I think, in true Jewish Midrash fashion, Jesus would weigh everything as he thought about the kind of expression we’re talking about.

An example of making a massive break with the Law and Tradition… The Apostle Peter was meditating at a friend’s house when he was caught up in a vision from heaven. Three times in a row, a sheet was lowered from heaven, filled with all sorts of food Jews were forbidden to eat. Peter experienced a voice telling him to “Take, eat!” Each time, Peter vehemently rejected the notion. But after the last time, the voice told him not to reject as unclean that which God has made clean. Immediately after this, Peter was invited to come to the home of a Roman military leader where he and all of his household waited – all Gentiles. They wanted to know about Jesus. Peter knew he was doing something he shouldn’t – he was doing solid for the Roman oppressor, and violating a longstanding tradition of not mingling with non-Jews. He began his preaching acknowledging that he was doing something “wrong”. But as he continued, the Holy Spirit showed up – on and in the Gentiles! Peter could not deny what he was witnessing, and invited them to be baptized into the Christian community of faith. The vision he had prepared him intellectually for the experience he could not deny. Certainly, he was surprised himself at what happened. No doubt, he was shaking in his boots as he made his way to Jerusalem to explain himself. He was met with fierce resistance from his Jewish compatriots. But Gentile inclusion has taken root. God didn’t change. What happened? Peter experienced a new level of insight about the nature of God which caused him to view the world differently.

In regards to the statement: Loving, covenanted, same-gender sexual expression can be compatible with being a committed follower of Christ, my personal conclusion is “YES”. I agree with the biblical texts we examined, but I also believe it is in keeping with our biblical tradition to weigh all data as we move forward into the future. The same phenomenon happened within the Bible’s legal code books – over time “God’s” laws changed regarding women, orphans, and immigrants as new awareness about them evolved. Please remember: the ancient Jewish scholars believed the inspiration regarding the creation of the scriptures was equal to the inspiration regarding the interpretation of those texts. They treated their study, interpretation and application as a holy exercise. So do I. I hope you do, too.

Similarly, Quakers in 17th century condemned slavery as inhumane and began calling for its end. What they concluded intellectually was backed up with what they saw and experienced. Susan B. Anthony understood intellectually that change needed to come after she experienced the inequality women faced in a man’s world. Martin Luther King, Jr. committed his life to pursuing racial equality as he experienced discrimination as a human being because of his skin tone, even as he understood that God did not show such favoritism. In each of these examples, a combination of intellectual understanding blended with experience changed their minds and subsequently opened their eyes to a new understanding of what God was doing in the world.

Homosexuality is the next issue in a long list of divisive concerns where information and experience are shedding a different light on how we see our world. Just as with the Gentiles, women and African Americans, the Holy Spirit has been at work in and through Christ followers who happen to be sexually active homosexuals. Some of these folks are even pastors who have been helping others experience God’s grace even as they have experienced it.

What doesn’t this mean? It doesn’t mean that “anything” goes in terms of homosexual expression. The same sexual ethic guides heterosexuality and homosexuality alike: shalom is the goal, supported by love of God and love of others like we would hope to be loved. Cheap, shallow sex? Not shalom, regardless of sexual orientation. Exploitation through sex trafficking and prostitution? Not shalom, ever. Physical intimacy should be commensurate with the level of emotional, intellectual and spiritual intimacy in the relationship. Orientation is irrelevant at that point.

If you disagree with this conclusion, Jesus does provide instruction for you as you move forward: don’t judge. The role of Judge is God’s alone, not yours. Your primary role as you interact with the world and it’s people around you is to do your part to redeem it, to facilitate more and more of God’s grace.

If you call me your pastor, you can count on me to do my best to serve you regardless of whether or not we see this issue similarly. But you can be sure that you will never hear me condemn the kind of covenanted loving relationship we are talking about here, because I don’t believe God condemns it.

Some see a blue and black dress. Some see a white and gold dress. At the end of the day, it’s a dress. Some see homosexuality as sin, others see orientation as benign. But at the end of the day, we’re talking about people. A dress doesn’t have feelings or emotions; people do. Behave accordingly.

Eyes Wide Open (Ruth Series Part Three)

Jenny Matheny wraps up her three part series on the book of Ruth.  Enjoy!

Eyes of Grace (Ruth Series Part Two)

This teaching series if offered by Jenny Matheny.

Ruth 2:8-9The Message

2: 8-9 Then Boaz spoke to Ruth: “Listen, my daughter. From now on don’t go to any other field to glean—stay right here in this one. And stay close to my young women. Watch where they are harvesting and follow them. And don’t worry about a thing; I’ve given orders to my servants not to harass you. When you get thirsty, feel free to go and drink from the water buckets that the servants have filled.”

10 She dropped to her knees, then bowed her face to the ground. “How does this happen that you should pick me out and treat me so kindly—me, a foreigner?”

11-12 Boaz answered her, “I’ve heard all about you—heard about the way you treated your mother-in-law after the death of her husband, and how you left your father and mother and the land of your birth and have come to live among a bunch of total strangers. God reward you well for what you’ve done—and with a generous bonus besides from God, to whom you’ve come seeking protection under his wings.”

13 She said, “Oh sir, such grace, such kindness—I don’t deserve it. You’ve touched my heart, treated me like one of your own. And I don’t even belong here!”

1. Being in a new place feels very awkward at times. How do you think Ruth felt being new and a “foreigner” in this small town of Bethlehem?

2. Have you ever been new and felt like you did not belong? Did you experience the kindness of others in this new place? What did you wish was different?

3. How can we, as a church, extend a warm welcome to those who are new and help them to know they are a beautiful and important part of this church family?

Eyes of Transition (Ruth Series Part One)

This teaching - and the three part series - is offered by Jenny Matheny.

Ruth 1:1-19a The Message

Once upon a time—it was back in the days when judges led Israel— there was a famine in the land. A man from Bethlehem in Judah left home to live in the country of Moab, he and his wife and his two sons. The man’s name was Elimelech; his wife’s name was Naomi; his sons were named Mahlon and Kilion—all Ephrathites from Bethlehem in Judah. They all went to the country of Moab and settled there.

3-5 Elimelech died and Naomi was left, she and her two sons. The sons took Moabite wives; the name of the first was Orpah, the second Ruth. They lived there in Moab for the next ten years. But then the two brothers, Mahlon and Kilion, died. Now the woman was left without either her young men or her husband.

6-7 One day she got herself together, she and her two daughters-in-law, to leave the country of Moab and set out for home; she had heard that God had been pleased to visit his people and give them food. And so she started out from the place she had been living, she and her two daughters-in-law with her, on the road back to the land of Judah.

8-9 After a short while on the road, Naomi told her two daughters-in-law, “Go back. Go home and live with your mothers. And may God treat you as graciously as you treated your deceased husbands and me. May God give each of you a new home and a new husband!” She kissed them and they cried openly.

10 They said, “No, we’re going on with you to your people.”

11-13 But Naomi was firm: “Go back, my dear daughters. Why would you come with me? Do you suppose I still have sons in my womb who can become your future husbands? Go back, dear daughters—on your way, please! I’m too old to get a husband. Why, even if I said, ‘There’s still hope!’ and this very night got a man and had sons, can you imagine being satisfied to wait until they were grown? Would you wait that long to get married again? No, dear daughters; this is a bitter pill for me to swallow—more bitter for me than for you. God has dealt me a hard blow.”

14 Again they cried openly. Orpah kissed her mother-in-law good-bye; but Ruth embraced her and held on.

15 Naomi said, “Look, your sister-in-law is going back home to live with her own people and gods; go with her.”

16-17 But Ruth said, “Don’t force me to leave you; don’t make me go home. Where you go, I go; and where you live, I’ll live. Your people are my people, your God is my god; where you die, I’ll die, and that’s where I’ll be buried, so help me God—not even death itself is going to come between us!”

18-19 When Naomi saw that Ruth had her heart set on going with her, she gave in. And so the two of them traveled on together to Bethlehem. 

1. Have you ever been in a season of transition? List two areas you found difficult during this season:

2. When you think back through this season, what have you learned about yourself? God? Others? Still learning?