Our Old Testament reading (Esther 7:1-6, 9-10; Esther 9:20-22) is one of the few times in the lectionary that we encounter the book of Esther. The book of Esther captures a pivotal moment in the history of the Jewish people, when queen Esther’s bravery saves her people from destruction. This incident is the basis for the Jewish festival of Purim, which is still celebrated to this day. It’s one of the few places in Old Testament Scripture where, given the patriarchal society of the day, a woman was God’s chosen instrument for the salvation of the Jews.
There’s a good bit of backstory behind today’s reading, and what a soap opera it is. The story takes place when the Jews were in exile in Babylon. Esther was a descendent of Jewish exiles. The king’s former wife, Vashti, had failed to show proper respect to the king – i.e. refused to put herself on displace on the king’s half-drunken command to the kings’ half-drunken, drooling court officials - and was therefore exiled. The nerve! Who did Vashti think she was! As the king got over both his hangover and his royal temper tantrum, he soon missed Vashti, and ordered all the virgins of the land to participate in a sort of royal beauty contest, with the prize being the privilege of being the queen. Esther was one of those summoned. Ultimately Esther was deemed the most beautiful of all, and won the privilege of being queen. She deemed it prudent to hide her Jewish ancestry – her status as a descendent of the exiles - from the king. Meanwhile, Esther’s cousin, Mordecai, who had raised her, had fallen foul of Haman, one of the king’s officials, and as a result, an order was given for the execution, not only of Mordecai, but of the entirety of the Jewish people. Hearing of the order, Mordecai implored the queen to use her access to the King to save her people. Said Mordecai, “If you keep silence at such a time as this, relief and deliverance will rise for the Jews from another quarter, but you and your father’s family will perish. Who knows? Perhaps you have come to royal dignity for just such a time as this.” Esther replied that it was against the law for her to approach the king on her own initiative; only if he held out the royal scepter would her life be spared. Nonetheless, she said, “I will go to the king, though it is against the law; and if I perish, I perish.” Esther put her life on the line, revealed her identity, and saved her people from destruction. Haman and his supporters found themselves hanging from the very same gallows that Haman had set up for the destruction of the Jews.
Consider what must have gone through the mind of the king at this time. The king’s advisors had talked about the Jews as “those people”, as “them.” As in “not us.” As in “other than us.” As in “maybe dangerous to us.” Had the king continued to see the Jews as “not us,” as “them,” they would have been destroyed. It took brave queen Esther to go to the king and risk her life to change his view, that the Jews were not “them – those people – an abstraction” but “me, the queen, the love of your life.” Because of Esther’s bravery, the Jews were no longer “them over there” but part of “us right here.” And of course, for the King, when Jews are part of the king’s household, are family to the king, the King will work to save them. Because Jews are no longer them, but us.
You. Me. Them. Us. Pronouns that draw lines or erase them, pronouns that draw circles to include or exclude. Pronouns that often determine how we respond to our neighbor – depending on whether that neighbor is a “them” or an “us.” Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount tells us to “love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you so that you may be children of your father in heaven, for he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the righteous and on the unrighteous.” If we listened, what a wonderful world itwould be. In this world, though, where we live, we all carry biases that make us treat those congenial to us very well, and sometimes to treat those not congenial to us – uh…not very well. Or if we’re not hostile to the “them’s” in our life, we’re indifferent. When things happen to “them” it’s by definition “their” problem, as in “not our problem.” It doesn’t concern “us,” does it? . And I’m no exception; while I try very hard to treat everyone well, inevitably I find it an easier task with some people than with others, and the amount of energy I can bring to overcoming my biases varies from day to day and from circumstance to circumstance. So I’m preaching to myself as well.
Esther saved the Jewish people by risking her life in order to move from being a “them” to an “us.” Our society has many ways of defining “thems”. Some “thems” are relatively invisible. For the first half of the 20th century, Jews were considered outsiders to nearly as great a degree as during the time of our Old Testament reading. They were barred from some universities and from various lines of employment. Many changed their names and converted to Christianity in order to pass as “us”. The Holocaust awakened the conscience of many to the great danger of labeling and demonizing Jews as “thems.” And personal interaction also did a great deal. It’s easy to dismiss a word, an abstraction, less easy to dismiss a friend, a coworker, a neighbor right there in the flesh with whom we interact every day. And the lines between "us" and "them" shift over time. Germans, who founded our congregation, were once seen by other colonists as "them", and Ben Franklin despaired of Germans ever being able to function in proper American - that is to say, English speaking - society. Similarly, in past decades, other immigrant groups – Irish, Polish – eventually moved from being seen as a threat and considered “them” to acceptance as part of “us.” John’s Gospel speaks of Christ’s incarnation – his birth and life on earth - as “the Word becoming flesh,” but for “thems,” bridges can be built by the kind of interaction where a person labeled with a despised word – Jew or the name of some other group of “thems” – becomes right in front of you the flesh of someone you know and value, maybe love. This kind of incarnation can erase the lines between “them” and “us.” But if you’re a “them”, this interaction comes at a risk – you may be ostracized; you may be physically attacked, and one may approach such interactions with a fatalistic sense that, as Queen Esther said, “if I perish, I perish.”
While anti-semitism still rears its ugly head in various times and locations, Jews face much less overt hostility than they did 50 years ago. But evidently there’s just something in human nature – “sin” might be one descriptor - that needs a “them” to scapegoat, to hate and blame for all their problems. Nowadays, in the wake of 9-11, Muslims are very much considered as “them” – “!THEM!” in red, flashing capital letters – so much so that, my first class in seminary included a trip to a local mosque, in order to begin the process in our minds of moving Muslims from “them” to “maybe us.” Immigrants are also another “them” – while our rhetoric distinguishes between legal and illegal immigrants, in practice we tend to lump all immigrants together as “them.” We can all think of other groups of “thems” who are at best disregarded and at worst demonized. Gay folk. The mentally ill. The hungry. All the folks that get beat like a piñata and kicked around like a football during the runup to every election.
What does all this have to do with our 148th anniversary? I’d like to come back to Mordecai’s words to Esther, as Mordecai’s and Esther’s people faced destruction: “Who knows? Perhaps you have come to royal dignity for just such a time as this.” In other words, maybe this is why God led the King to choose Esther as queen. Behind these words is Mordecai’s deep conviction that, though his people faced grave and overwhelming danger, God was still in charge, and that by God’s providence Esther was in the position she was in for a reason.
We here at Emanuel Church are celebrating God’s care for us over the last roughly 150 years. From our founding during the time of the Civil War, our congregation has weathered a Great Depression and two World Wars. More locally, our congregation has also survived the passing of much of Bridesburg’s industrial base, as our neighborhood tries to hang on to the best of the past while finding a way to move forward. Those who have been here longer than I have, who are the living history of this congregation, have many wonderful stories of our history – our critical role in the founding of Bethany Children’s Home, now saving the lives of at-risk children and youth in Berks County, our cooperation and friendship with All Saints Roman Catholic church during their founding years. You’ve been there for the highs and lows – the comings and goings of many pastors over the years, some beloved, others who maybe didn’t quite fit, the church fights, and the reconciliations, the departure of old friends, and the arrivals of new friends.
And here we are, thanks in large part to the love and dedication of a core of dedicated members. And in the past year or two, it has been such a joy to welcome new members, from Bridesburg and nearby neighborhoods, and to have children with us in worship again. God is bringing new life in our midst. But one might ask, why are we here? Why has God enabled us to continue? I would answer, “we are here just for such a time as this?”
What kind of time is this? It’s a time in which many feel great spiritual hunger – incredibly strong need for meaning and purpose in their lives, for strength to overcome personal failings and to stand in the face of adversity, for connections to other human beings, for being part of something larger than just getting through the day - but are afraid to open the door of a church for fear of the condemnation they expect to find inside. In this economy, it’s also a time of great physical hunger, great need for food, clothing, and so many necessities of life. It’s a time in which economic and social factors put great stress on families, where it can take heroic efforts for parents to keep their children out of harm’s way and to bring them up to feel loved and valued, where parents are seeking safe and nurturing places for their children and themselves.
Why are we here? – just for such a time as this! Why are we here? – because God needs us, and because Bridesburg needs us. Why are we here? – to stand by those “thems” that the rest of society would prefer to forget, to love those whom others would hate or ignore. And as we do so, they are no longer “them”, but “us.”
It was risky for Esther to be there just at such a time as this. She had no way of knowing how the king would respond to her plea. And it’s risky for Emanuel to be here just as such a time as this. It’s risky to take on the challenges of a changing society. But it’s absolutely deadly to this congregation not to. In stepping out in faith to embrace the challenges God has set before us, we will find new life.
Our final hymn (Julian Rush’s “In the Midst of New Dimension”), from the New Century Hymnal, will be unfamiliar, and may seem like a strange choice for an anniversary Sunday. It’s a hymn about moving forward in times of uncertainty. The hymn speaks about working for peace amid conflict, about moving forward in the face of social change. But in its use of imagery such as the rainbow – sign of God’s promise to Noah never to destroy the earth – and fiery pillar – with which God led the children of Israel through the wilderness to the promised land – the hymn is a ringing affirmation of the faithfulness of God who has led Emanuel through the challenges and joys of Christian discipleship for the past nearly 150 years, and who, God willing, will continue to sustain us for many more. And the chorus is gives us a vision for the next 150 years, “we, your people; ours, the journey, now and evermore.”
Monday, September 28, 2009
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Kid's Stuff
The comic strip Dilbert, which was created by Scott Adams in the late 1980’s and is still relevant after 20 years, is a satire of office politics and the inane jockeying for position that comes with it. Dilbert is an engineer working in a cubicle in a large, soulless corporation. His life is an uphill struggle against despair as he submits his creative ideas to his dreaded incompetent pointy-haired boss, who doesn’t understand them, and in fact doesn’t have a clue about anything but holding onto his own position. One memorable comic strip had the pointy haired boss asking Dilbert how to turn on his computer. Dilbert wound up replacing the computer with a child’s Etch-A-Sketch toy – Dilbert told the boss that it was a newer model, and the boss didn’t know the difference anyway. Of course, the pointy-haired boss is very good indeed at holding onto his own status, and if his staff suffer in the process, so be it. So between the boss’s incompetence and maleavolence, all of Dilbert’s ideas to improve the efficiency of the office come to naught. And Dilbert’s pet dog, Dogbert, has his own ideas for taking over the world and humiliating Dilbert at every turn. Dilbert’s romantic overtures to female coworkers inevitably come to grief – stereotypically, Dilbert’s engineering creativity is matched only by his utter social incompetence, and dates always end in some surreal form of disaster. And the sociopaths in the company’s human resources department issue periodic workplace edicts in order to drain any remaining joy from Dilbert’s worklife. So Dilbert is reduced to finding meaning in his life by using a tape-measure to compare the size of his cubicle to those of his coworkers as a measure of his status. While I don’t read Dilbert much these days, I am reminded that I had a cubicle in the middle of a huge floor of cubicles when I started reading Dilbert in the late 1980’s. Now in my day job, I have an office, and some days I wonder if I haven’t turned into the dreaded pointy-haired boss I used to laugh at. If my work computer is replaced someday with an Etch-A-Sketch, I guess I’ll know for sure.
Today’s reading from Mark’s Gospel (Mark 9:30-37) reminded me of the bizarre office politics that was satirized by the Dilbert comic strip. Some theologians refer to Mark’s gospel as “the gospel of the clueless disciples.” While all of the Gospels in various ways remind us of the human limitations of the disciples, Mark –the earliest – is especially blunt in its depiction of the disciples’ persistent misunderstanding of Jesus, their master. Remember that in last week’s reading from Mark, Jesus had begun teaching his disciples that he would be rejected by the religious authorities, suffer, and die. From our perspective, we know how the story ends, but Jesus still had all this ahead of him. So Jesus is pondering his impending suffering and death; his disciples don’t understand a word he says, and are afraid to ask. And just to drive the point home, Jesus notices their silence, and asks them what they had been arguing about earlier while they were on the road. Turns out that, like Dilbert and his coworkers, they were jockeying for status, arguing about which was the greatest.
It’s notable that communication had broken down between Jesus and the disciples. In Mark’s Gospel, Jesus is sometime depicted as being blunt, direct, sometimes utterly without tact. He has a way of getting to the point of the matter, and if tender feelings are hurt, so be it. At one point, Jesus’ disciples were unable to heal a boy possessed by a demon, and Jesus responds by asking the crowd, “How long must I put up with you.” You can almost imagine Jesus burying his face in the palm of his hand. And so Mark’s Gospel tells us that his disciples didn’t understand him, and were afraid to ask.
So it was time for an object lesson – sort of like when our grade school teachers had “show and tell” time. “Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all.” It so happened that there was a small child nearby, and so Jesus took the child in his arms. “You want to know who’s the greatest in the kingdom. He is. And if you want to be great in the kingdom, you’ll welcome him.” “Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes not me but the one who sent me.” The disciples had been busy trying to draw an organization chart for the kingdom of heaven, each with himself near the top, just under Jesus. Jesus turned their chart upside down, with servants and children at the top.
“Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me….” In Jesus’ day, children had no status. While older children would eventually be able to work on the family farm or business, they would be dependent on their parents, who could sell, pawn off, or even kill their own kids if they so desired. In many ways, our society puts a much higher value on children. If you doubt that, consider what would happen if you drove past a school bus that’s picking up a child for school – when a kid gets on or off a school bus, all road traffic stops. In Pennsylvania, we also have safety-net provisions for medical care for children that don’t exist for adults. At the same time, our society can be remarkably inconsistent in our value for children. Many of those who are most vocally pro-life – making sure that pregnancies are carried to full term and delivered – can become awfully quiet when it comes time to be sure those children receive adequate food and clothing and education.
How about the church? When I became pastor of Emanuel Church, there were no children in worship on a regular basis. We still don't have many, but my warmest memories have been in watching our congregation welcome the children that have come our way in recent years. Those are the moments that keep me going! It has been some years since we've had a Sunday school for children, but perhaps one day in a few years, we'll be selecting curriculum for our primary class. To God be the glory!
“Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servants of all.” One way to welcome children is to welcome their parents, to be there for their parents in difficult times. This is one of the reasons I’m so excited about the expansion of the Bridesburg Council’s food ministry, held at our neighboring congregation Bridesburg Methodist. One way to welcome a child is to help their parents provide them with the necessities of life. I hope that some of our members who have time in their schedules on Monday evenings and on Tuesdays can support – and we can all help the cupboard with our financial support. I’m told that last Tuesday, they gave out a phenomenal amount of food, and the cupboard is nearly bare. Our donations will help them restock. And in terms of the need for volunteers, right now two or three members of Bridesburg Methodist are carrying almost the entire weight of the cupboard. They would be most grateful for more volunteers. I had helped put together food baskets for the Easter distribution earlier this year, but my class schedule so far has frustrated my efforts to be there to help give out food – even so, I’m hoping I can a long lunch hour now and then on some Tuesdays, so that Emanuel church can be represented.
“Truly I tell you, whoever gives you a cup of water to drink because you bear the name of Christ will by no means lose the reward.” In these difficult days, may Emanuel Church continue to become even more of an oasis for refreshment, for our members and their children, for those who will find their way to join our congregation, to our neighbors and to all in need in our beloved community of Bridesburg. Amen.
Today’s reading from Mark’s Gospel (Mark 9:30-37) reminded me of the bizarre office politics that was satirized by the Dilbert comic strip. Some theologians refer to Mark’s gospel as “the gospel of the clueless disciples.” While all of the Gospels in various ways remind us of the human limitations of the disciples, Mark –the earliest – is especially blunt in its depiction of the disciples’ persistent misunderstanding of Jesus, their master. Remember that in last week’s reading from Mark, Jesus had begun teaching his disciples that he would be rejected by the religious authorities, suffer, and die. From our perspective, we know how the story ends, but Jesus still had all this ahead of him. So Jesus is pondering his impending suffering and death; his disciples don’t understand a word he says, and are afraid to ask. And just to drive the point home, Jesus notices their silence, and asks them what they had been arguing about earlier while they were on the road. Turns out that, like Dilbert and his coworkers, they were jockeying for status, arguing about which was the greatest.
It’s notable that communication had broken down between Jesus and the disciples. In Mark’s Gospel, Jesus is sometime depicted as being blunt, direct, sometimes utterly without tact. He has a way of getting to the point of the matter, and if tender feelings are hurt, so be it. At one point, Jesus’ disciples were unable to heal a boy possessed by a demon, and Jesus responds by asking the crowd, “How long must I put up with you.” You can almost imagine Jesus burying his face in the palm of his hand. And so Mark’s Gospel tells us that his disciples didn’t understand him, and were afraid to ask.
So it was time for an object lesson – sort of like when our grade school teachers had “show and tell” time. “Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all.” It so happened that there was a small child nearby, and so Jesus took the child in his arms. “You want to know who’s the greatest in the kingdom. He is. And if you want to be great in the kingdom, you’ll welcome him.” “Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes not me but the one who sent me.” The disciples had been busy trying to draw an organization chart for the kingdom of heaven, each with himself near the top, just under Jesus. Jesus turned their chart upside down, with servants and children at the top.
“Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me….” In Jesus’ day, children had no status. While older children would eventually be able to work on the family farm or business, they would be dependent on their parents, who could sell, pawn off, or even kill their own kids if they so desired. In many ways, our society puts a much higher value on children. If you doubt that, consider what would happen if you drove past a school bus that’s picking up a child for school – when a kid gets on or off a school bus, all road traffic stops. In Pennsylvania, we also have safety-net provisions for medical care for children that don’t exist for adults. At the same time, our society can be remarkably inconsistent in our value for children. Many of those who are most vocally pro-life – making sure that pregnancies are carried to full term and delivered – can become awfully quiet when it comes time to be sure those children receive adequate food and clothing and education.
How about the church? When I became pastor of Emanuel Church, there were no children in worship on a regular basis. We still don't have many, but my warmest memories have been in watching our congregation welcome the children that have come our way in recent years. Those are the moments that keep me going! It has been some years since we've had a Sunday school for children, but perhaps one day in a few years, we'll be selecting curriculum for our primary class. To God be the glory!
“Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servants of all.” One way to welcome children is to welcome their parents, to be there for their parents in difficult times. This is one of the reasons I’m so excited about the expansion of the Bridesburg Council’s food ministry, held at our neighboring congregation Bridesburg Methodist. One way to welcome a child is to help their parents provide them with the necessities of life. I hope that some of our members who have time in their schedules on Monday evenings and on Tuesdays can support – and we can all help the cupboard with our financial support. I’m told that last Tuesday, they gave out a phenomenal amount of food, and the cupboard is nearly bare. Our donations will help them restock. And in terms of the need for volunteers, right now two or three members of Bridesburg Methodist are carrying almost the entire weight of the cupboard. They would be most grateful for more volunteers. I had helped put together food baskets for the Easter distribution earlier this year, but my class schedule so far has frustrated my efforts to be there to help give out food – even so, I’m hoping I can a long lunch hour now and then on some Tuesdays, so that Emanuel church can be represented.
“Truly I tell you, whoever gives you a cup of water to drink because you bear the name of Christ will by no means lose the reward.” In these difficult days, may Emanuel Church continue to become even more of an oasis for refreshment, for our members and their children, for those who will find their way to join our congregation, to our neighbors and to all in need in our beloved community of Bridesburg. Amen.
Saturday, September 19, 2009
Who Are You?
Mark 8: 22-38 captures a pivotal moment in the ministry of Jesus. Chapter 8 of Mark’s Gospel is roughly in the middle of the Gospel. Everything before today’s reading leads up to the question that Jesus asks Peter, “Who do you say that I am?” And everything that happens after is a consequence of the answer, as Jesus goes on to be a very different Messiah than what they’d envisioned. Instead of glory, suffering; instead of a crown, a cross. Not that glory and crowns for Jesus won’t come later, but the road to Easter Sunday inevitably runs through Good Friday.
Mark begins his Gospel, as we’ve noted several times, “the beginning of the good news of Jesus of Nazareth the Son of God.” This is followed by a series of vignettes – healings in Jewish territory, questions by the religious authorities and doubts even among his own family, missions into Gentile territory, where he heals many and is heard gladly. We get some glimpses of his preaching – parables about seeds sown on different types of soil. We get, not one, but two feeding stories – the feeding of 5,000 men (plus women and children) with five loaves and two fish, with 12 baskets left over, and the feeding of the 4,000 from 7 loaves and 2 fish, with 7 baskets left over. There is the story of Jesus calming the wind and waves. Commentators have noted that basically all of these stories are, in effect, presented as exorcisms, as forces of disease, hunger, and natural disaster are driven away by Jesus.
The narrative up until today’s reading has a number of themes – many miracles and healings, accounts of teaching in parables, skepticism from his family and his hometown, increasing opposition among the religious establishment, and increasing outreach to the surrounding Gentile community. All of this against the backdrop of John the Baptist’s proclamation, and John’s eventual beheading by Herod. So the grace from God and danger from human misunderstanding and opposition are both factors leading up to today’s reading. Today’s reading opens with an account of Jesus healing a blind man. Jesus leads the man out of the village where he had been, lays his hands upon the man, and the man says he can see – sort of – but the people to him look like tree trunks walking around. Jesus lays his hands on the man again, and his sight is completely restored. Jesus tells the man not to return to the village – not to return to what for him had been a place of blindness, but to move forward with his newly-restored vision.
Having sent the man on his way, Jesus leads into his question by asking, “Who do other people say that I am.” What’s the buzz? He gets a variety of answers – Elijah, or John the Baptist come back to life, or a prophet. All acknowledgements that Jesus was someone special, not a run of the mill religious leader. It’s likely an answer he expected, yet perhaps not quite the answer he was looking for.
“Who do you say that I am?” Peter, always one to open his mouth before engaging his brain, comes out with “You are the Messiah, the Anointed One.” Jesus cautions him to tell nobody of this. Then Jesus begins to tell them that the Son of Man must suffer and be executed. Peter takes Jesus aside and tells Jesus to stop being such a gloomy Gus. “These things will never happen to you, Jesus” But Jesus in turn rebuked Peter in front of everyone, saying “Get behind me, Satan – you’re thinking from a human viewpoint, not from God’s viewpoint."
“Who do you say that I am?” Jesus’ question is not only for Peter, but for us. In many ways, our answer will not only tell us who we think Jesus is, but who we ourselves are as well – sort of like a psychologist asking a patient to describe their response to an ink blot – our responses may say more about ourselves than about what we’re describing.
“They say you are John the Baptist, or Elijah, or one of the prophets.” This answer does two things at the same time – it gives an appearance of great respect, but it also distances us from having to make a commitment. Think of those who are admired in our day as saints – Mother Teresa, or Gandhi for example. We look up to them as wonderful people. God bless ‘em. But we don’t necessarily feel compelled to follow their example – we can just admire, from a safe distance.
“God forbid, Lord - These things will never happen to you.” Mark doesn’t tell us what Peter said when he took Jesus aside, but these words are Matthew’s version of Peter’s reaction when Jesus spoke of his impending suffering. Peter confessed Jesus as the Messiah – but what kind of Messiah? One who would gloriously free Israel from Roman rule? And this is the Messiah that many in church look for today – the Messiah that will solve all our problems. The “name it and claim it”, “prosperity gospel” folks who think of Jesus as their cosmic bellhop are only some of the more egregious examples. There’s also “Fire Marshal Jesus” – pray a little prayer and Fire Marshal Jesus will give you a get out of hell free card. Conversely, we also know many who love the Jesus of the book of Revelations, the violent Jesus who will smite all their enemies. Smite on, King Jesus! They really look forward to seeing their enemies being tormented with fire and sulphur, and the smoke of their torment going up forever. This Jesus will fight all our battles for us. We’ll sit in the bleachers and cheer. I’ll observe that generally when Jesus hates the same folks we do, we may have given Jesus an extreme makeover in our own image. Or there’s therapeutic Jesus, Jesus our best friend forever, who will help us get over our low self-esteem and neurosis. He’s very accepting, and doesn’t ask much. Kinda like Barney on the kid’s show….”I love you, you love me….” Don’t misunderstand me – I firmly believe that Jesus brings healing of body, mind, and spirit. It’s why we pray for people every week. I believe – and have said so repeatedly - that Jesus ministered to those on the margins, including those – especially those - whom the religious establishment rejected. And in the life to come, God will wipe away every tear. But Jesus didn’t die on the cross just to give us warm fuzzies.
“But who do you say that I am?” Really, many of the alternatives I mentioned are partly true – Jesus was indeed a prophet, Jesus does indeed offer salvation from hell, and Jesus does indeed answer prayer – but any one of these is only part of the answer, and all are coming from a place of focusing on our own need. Who are you, Jesus – You are the Christ, the Anointed One, the Messiah – God the Son, the second person in the Trinity, God the Word who became flesh and dwelt among us, full of grace and truth, who calls us to deny ourselves, take up our cross, and follow him. Those who seek to save their lives will lose it, and those who lose their lives for the sake of the Gospel will save it.
The Jesus of our Gospel reading today is an uncomfortable Jesus. He tells us things we don’t really want to hear. He makes demands. And He calls us to follow in his way.
Jesus told his disciples that those who would save their lives will lose it, but those who lose their lives will save it. These words of Jesus were not just for his disciples, but are for us. As individual disciples of Jesus and as a congregation, playing it safe is, in the long run, a loser’s game. We’ll shrivel up and die. Only by taking the risk of following Jesus will we find true life.
I’ve talked a lot about taking risks and following Jesus – but haven’t offered a lot of specifics. There are some practical opportunities to experience this type of discipleship. And fortunately, it’s only mildly risky. The Bridesburg Council of Churches needs assistance (that's an understatement!) for the expansion of its feeding program. On Mondays, there will be the need for help unloading food. On Tuesdays, mid-day and evening, there is need to help staff the food bank. Yes, there’s a sacrifice of time, and we’re all very busy. And yes, there is theoretically the risk of helping people that we may not know very well – the risk of being taken advantage of, the risk that we’ll be asked for more help than we can offer. But this is an opportunity to meet our neighbors in a new way. You may find that in giving time and assistance, you receive. In blessing others, we may be blessed. If you're interested in helping, please let me know and I'll put you in touch with those running the food cupboard.
After Jesus’ conversation with Peter, Jesus heals another blind man, Bartimaeus. In Mark’s Gospel, Jesus’ conversation with Peter is preceded and followed by healings from blindness. I believe that in telling the story in this way, Mark was making the point that Jesus not only healed physical blindness, but also healed the spiritual blindness of his followers, opening their eyes to a clearer vision of who Jesus was, and what God was asking of Jesus and of them. May Jesus also open our eyes to a new vision of faithful discipleship for Emanuel United Church of Christ, and where Jesus leads, may we have courage to follow. Amen.
Interested in a closer relationship with Jesus? Please join us for worship on Sundays at 10 a.m. at Emanuel United Church of Christ, Fillmore Street off Thompson. www.emanuelphila.org
Mark begins his Gospel, as we’ve noted several times, “the beginning of the good news of Jesus of Nazareth the Son of God.” This is followed by a series of vignettes – healings in Jewish territory, questions by the religious authorities and doubts even among his own family, missions into Gentile territory, where he heals many and is heard gladly. We get some glimpses of his preaching – parables about seeds sown on different types of soil. We get, not one, but two feeding stories – the feeding of 5,000 men (plus women and children) with five loaves and two fish, with 12 baskets left over, and the feeding of the 4,000 from 7 loaves and 2 fish, with 7 baskets left over. There is the story of Jesus calming the wind and waves. Commentators have noted that basically all of these stories are, in effect, presented as exorcisms, as forces of disease, hunger, and natural disaster are driven away by Jesus.
The narrative up until today’s reading has a number of themes – many miracles and healings, accounts of teaching in parables, skepticism from his family and his hometown, increasing opposition among the religious establishment, and increasing outreach to the surrounding Gentile community. All of this against the backdrop of John the Baptist’s proclamation, and John’s eventual beheading by Herod. So the grace from God and danger from human misunderstanding and opposition are both factors leading up to today’s reading. Today’s reading opens with an account of Jesus healing a blind man. Jesus leads the man out of the village where he had been, lays his hands upon the man, and the man says he can see – sort of – but the people to him look like tree trunks walking around. Jesus lays his hands on the man again, and his sight is completely restored. Jesus tells the man not to return to the village – not to return to what for him had been a place of blindness, but to move forward with his newly-restored vision.
Having sent the man on his way, Jesus leads into his question by asking, “Who do other people say that I am.” What’s the buzz? He gets a variety of answers – Elijah, or John the Baptist come back to life, or a prophet. All acknowledgements that Jesus was someone special, not a run of the mill religious leader. It’s likely an answer he expected, yet perhaps not quite the answer he was looking for.
“Who do you say that I am?” Peter, always one to open his mouth before engaging his brain, comes out with “You are the Messiah, the Anointed One.” Jesus cautions him to tell nobody of this. Then Jesus begins to tell them that the Son of Man must suffer and be executed. Peter takes Jesus aside and tells Jesus to stop being such a gloomy Gus. “These things will never happen to you, Jesus” But Jesus in turn rebuked Peter in front of everyone, saying “Get behind me, Satan – you’re thinking from a human viewpoint, not from God’s viewpoint."
“Who do you say that I am?” Jesus’ question is not only for Peter, but for us. In many ways, our answer will not only tell us who we think Jesus is, but who we ourselves are as well – sort of like a psychologist asking a patient to describe their response to an ink blot – our responses may say more about ourselves than about what we’re describing.
“They say you are John the Baptist, or Elijah, or one of the prophets.” This answer does two things at the same time – it gives an appearance of great respect, but it also distances us from having to make a commitment. Think of those who are admired in our day as saints – Mother Teresa, or Gandhi for example. We look up to them as wonderful people. God bless ‘em. But we don’t necessarily feel compelled to follow their example – we can just admire, from a safe distance.
“God forbid, Lord - These things will never happen to you.” Mark doesn’t tell us what Peter said when he took Jesus aside, but these words are Matthew’s version of Peter’s reaction when Jesus spoke of his impending suffering. Peter confessed Jesus as the Messiah – but what kind of Messiah? One who would gloriously free Israel from Roman rule? And this is the Messiah that many in church look for today – the Messiah that will solve all our problems. The “name it and claim it”, “prosperity gospel” folks who think of Jesus as their cosmic bellhop are only some of the more egregious examples. There’s also “Fire Marshal Jesus” – pray a little prayer and Fire Marshal Jesus will give you a get out of hell free card. Conversely, we also know many who love the Jesus of the book of Revelations, the violent Jesus who will smite all their enemies. Smite on, King Jesus! They really look forward to seeing their enemies being tormented with fire and sulphur, and the smoke of their torment going up forever. This Jesus will fight all our battles for us. We’ll sit in the bleachers and cheer. I’ll observe that generally when Jesus hates the same folks we do, we may have given Jesus an extreme makeover in our own image. Or there’s therapeutic Jesus, Jesus our best friend forever, who will help us get over our low self-esteem and neurosis. He’s very accepting, and doesn’t ask much. Kinda like Barney on the kid’s show….”I love you, you love me….” Don’t misunderstand me – I firmly believe that Jesus brings healing of body, mind, and spirit. It’s why we pray for people every week. I believe – and have said so repeatedly - that Jesus ministered to those on the margins, including those – especially those - whom the religious establishment rejected. And in the life to come, God will wipe away every tear. But Jesus didn’t die on the cross just to give us warm fuzzies.
“But who do you say that I am?” Really, many of the alternatives I mentioned are partly true – Jesus was indeed a prophet, Jesus does indeed offer salvation from hell, and Jesus does indeed answer prayer – but any one of these is only part of the answer, and all are coming from a place of focusing on our own need. Who are you, Jesus – You are the Christ, the Anointed One, the Messiah – God the Son, the second person in the Trinity, God the Word who became flesh and dwelt among us, full of grace and truth, who calls us to deny ourselves, take up our cross, and follow him. Those who seek to save their lives will lose it, and those who lose their lives for the sake of the Gospel will save it.
The Jesus of our Gospel reading today is an uncomfortable Jesus. He tells us things we don’t really want to hear. He makes demands. And He calls us to follow in his way.
Jesus told his disciples that those who would save their lives will lose it, but those who lose their lives will save it. These words of Jesus were not just for his disciples, but are for us. As individual disciples of Jesus and as a congregation, playing it safe is, in the long run, a loser’s game. We’ll shrivel up and die. Only by taking the risk of following Jesus will we find true life.
I’ve talked a lot about taking risks and following Jesus – but haven’t offered a lot of specifics. There are some practical opportunities to experience this type of discipleship. And fortunately, it’s only mildly risky. The Bridesburg Council of Churches needs assistance (that's an understatement!) for the expansion of its feeding program. On Mondays, there will be the need for help unloading food. On Tuesdays, mid-day and evening, there is need to help staff the food bank. Yes, there’s a sacrifice of time, and we’re all very busy. And yes, there is theoretically the risk of helping people that we may not know very well – the risk of being taken advantage of, the risk that we’ll be asked for more help than we can offer. But this is an opportunity to meet our neighbors in a new way. You may find that in giving time and assistance, you receive. In blessing others, we may be blessed. If you're interested in helping, please let me know and I'll put you in touch with those running the food cupboard.
After Jesus’ conversation with Peter, Jesus heals another blind man, Bartimaeus. In Mark’s Gospel, Jesus’ conversation with Peter is preceded and followed by healings from blindness. I believe that in telling the story in this way, Mark was making the point that Jesus not only healed physical blindness, but also healed the spiritual blindness of his followers, opening their eyes to a clearer vision of who Jesus was, and what God was asking of Jesus and of them. May Jesus also open our eyes to a new vision of faithful discipleship for Emanuel United Church of Christ, and where Jesus leads, may we have courage to follow. Amen.
Interested in a closer relationship with Jesus? Please join us for worship on Sundays at 10 a.m. at Emanuel United Church of Christ, Fillmore Street off Thompson. www.emanuelphila.org
Sunday, September 6, 2009
Be Opened!
In today’s Gospel (Mark 7:24-37), Jesus had just concluded yet another difficult exchange of words with the Pharisees. The Pharisees had condemned Jesus and his disciples for eating with unwashed hands, and Jesus in turn condemned them for their unwashed or impure hearts and minds. Even Jesus’ disciples didn’t “get” what Jesus was saying without his having to patiently walk them through what he meant. It must have been draining for Jesus to be so consistently misunderstood by his own people and even his own disciples – as John’s Gospel puts it, “he came unto his own, and his own received him not.” So Jesus needed some downtime. We know that sometimes he would go off to a deserted place to pray alone to the Father. In today’s reading, Jesus left the region of Gennesaret – Jewish territory – to go into the region of Tyre – a gentile territory. He entered a house, and tried to lay low. He did not want anyone to know he was there. But as so often happens throughout Mark’s Gospel, even when Jesus sought to undisturbed, Jesus was being watched – Mark tells us “he could not escape notice.”
A Gentile woman of Syrophoenician origin came and bowed at Jesus feet, begging for help for her demon-possessed daughter. And of course “gentle Jesus, meek and mild” went at once to the woman’s house and graciously healed the daughter, right? Well, not quite like that. Actually, Jesus was abrupt with the woman, to put it mildly. “Let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.” Jesus told her in no uncertain terms that compared to his own people, the Jews, she was a second class citizen – one of the dogs, not one of the children. Charming, no? But the woman was not put off. Like any mother, she would walk through fire for her kids, and she wasn’t going to be turned away by this rude remark. She turned Jesus’ argument against him, “Ok, if my daughter and I are dogs, well, even the dogs eat the scraps that fall from the children’s plates.” And the woman’s argument won the day. – “For saying that, you may go, your daughter is cured.” Matthew’s version of this story – it’s in Matthew 15, beginning with verse 21 – adds these words from Jesus, “Woman, great is your faith!” Indeed, what a contrast between this woman’s persistent faith, a faith that literally would not take “no” for an answer, and the obtuseness of Jesus’ own people.
Jesus went to Sidon, to the region of the Decapolis, the Ten Towns – again, Gentile territory. A deaf man with a speech impediment was brought to him, and the man’s friends begged Jesus to heal him. Jesus took the man aside in private – you could almost imagine Jesus beckoning the man with his hand, saying, “step into my office” – spat, and touched the man’s tongue. With the Amamaic word Ephphatha meaning “Be opened”, Jesus restores the man’s hearing and speech. As often happens in Mark’s Gospel, Jesus ordered the man and his friends to be silent, but they shouted to the mountaintops about what they experienced. “He has done everything well”, they said, “he even makes the deaf to hear and the mute to speak.”
These two accounts mark a point of transition in Jesus’ ministry. God’s grace is being extended beyond the children of Israel to the surrounding Gentiles – and they hear his words gladly, even while Jesus’ relationship with the Jewish religious establishment continues to deteriorate. I’m reminded of the words of Isaiah 2, which speaks of the mountain of the Lord’s House being established, and all nations coming unto it. In considering this passage, I kept coming back to those words of Jesus, which we are given in Aramaic – the language Jesus himself spoke – Ephphatha – “Be opened.” “Be opened!” Of course, in the text Jesus is commanding the ears and mouth of the deaf man to be opened. But in another sense, God’s grace is also being opened to the Gentiles, to those beyond Israel – indeed, to us, sitting here in Bridesburg. And, indeed, I believe Jesus’ words were not just for one specific deaf mute, but for the wider church, and indeed, for us.
“Be opened!” The church has been given the task of proclaiming the good news of the Reign of God, the good news about Jesus Christ. Remember Mark’s Gospel opens with these words, “The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.” Mark’s Gospel tells about the beginning. We here in the church are called to continue to proclaim the good news; indeed to be part of the good news. However, so often we in the church are like the deaf man with the speech impediment, not attuned to the still small voice of God, and garbled in our ability to proclaim it.
It takes discipline and practice to hear God’s still small voice in our lives. I’ve tried numerous times – with very limited success – to learn Spanish. On the rare occasions where I’ve been in Hispanic church settings, such as ordinations and installations at our Hispanic UCC congregations, I always try to speak or preach at least a few words or sentences in Spanish as well as English, but I greatly struggle with the language. My Spanish teachers used to tell our class that, though we could memorize and read Spanish text, in order to really succeed in learning Spanish, we needed to “tune our ears,” so that out of what seemed like an unending torrent of very fast syllables, we could begin to recognize words and phrases.
Just as I have tried with variable results to tune my ears to Spanish, in the same way, we need to tune our ears to God’s still, small voice. If we’re not used to listening, it will be hard at first. We’ll mostly hear the babble of our own racing thoughts going in a hundred directions at once, what practitioners of meditation call our “monkey minds” clamoring for attention. But, like learning a language, it becomes easier with practice. If we wait on God, God will open our minds and our hearts to his word for our lives.
“Be opened!” Just as our ears need to be opened and tuned to hear God’s word, our tongues need to be loosened by God so that we can proclaim the good news of God’s reign, the good news of salvation. And this doesn’t have to involve standing on a street corner and thumping a Bible – in fact, often the loudest proclaimers have the least Good News to offer. As Yeats put it, “The best lack all conviction, while the worst are full of passionate intensity.” Far more often, God uses our acts of compassion and our quiet words of caring, our quiet conversations with our friends and co-workers about what God has done in our lives. If our tongues are loosened, these quiet one-on-one encounters can be God’s way of reaching those God loves with the message of salvation.
It may also be that, like the woman seeking Jesus for healing for her daughter, those outside our circle will find their way to our congregation, seeking healing for their suffering of body or mind or spirit. These may be people from the Bridesburg and Port Richmond neighborhoods, or the neighborhoods surrounding. And here is where our words from James’ letter (James 2) can be instructions for evangelism as well as hospitality – don’t treat some visitors differently from others. As James puts it, “God has chosen the poor to be rich in faith ……” I never cease to be amazed at the steadfast faith of many Christians who are really struggling with the burdens of life, who would have no shortage of reasons to complain, but instead give thanks to God for what they have. So our tongues need to be loosened, so we can proclaim welcome to those who come our way, those who are our neighbors from nearby, and those who are our neighbors from far away.
And – here’s my nod to Labor Day - James’ words also speak to what we aspire to in our society – or say we do, anyway – but so often fail to accomplish – liberty and justice for all. In our public life, do we, through our voting habits and other public actions, support policies that benefit the working poor - or the "wish they were working" poor - or oppress them? Currently the gulf between rich and poor in our society is as great as it’s been in the last 100 years, where a CEO of a financial house makes hundreds of times the earnings of their entry level workers. And at least the custodial staff is presumably managing to keep their facilities clean, to do what they’re being underpaid to do, while CEO’s are paid millions to fail miserably at their job descriptions, and millions more to go away to make room for the next overpaid failure. And I quote: “Is it not the rich who oppress you? Is it not they who drag you into court? Is it not they who blaspheme the excellent name that was invoked over you?” The words of James, the brother of Jesus, not mine.
Be opened! May our spirits also be opened to the presence of the risen Christ in our midst. May this presence of Christ be with us so that our neighbors may meet the Christ that accompanies us on our daily rounds. May the Christ who is a healing presence in our lives, be healing to all we meet, so that they, like the crowds who witnessed Jesus’ miracle may say, “He does all things well; he even makes the deaf to hear and the mute to speak.”
Please join us for worship at Emanuel United Church of Christ on Fillmore Street (off Thompson) Sunday mornings at 10 a.m. www.emanuelphila.org
A Gentile woman of Syrophoenician origin came and bowed at Jesus feet, begging for help for her demon-possessed daughter. And of course “gentle Jesus, meek and mild” went at once to the woman’s house and graciously healed the daughter, right? Well, not quite like that. Actually, Jesus was abrupt with the woman, to put it mildly. “Let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.” Jesus told her in no uncertain terms that compared to his own people, the Jews, she was a second class citizen – one of the dogs, not one of the children. Charming, no? But the woman was not put off. Like any mother, she would walk through fire for her kids, and she wasn’t going to be turned away by this rude remark. She turned Jesus’ argument against him, “Ok, if my daughter and I are dogs, well, even the dogs eat the scraps that fall from the children’s plates.” And the woman’s argument won the day. – “For saying that, you may go, your daughter is cured.” Matthew’s version of this story – it’s in Matthew 15, beginning with verse 21 – adds these words from Jesus, “Woman, great is your faith!” Indeed, what a contrast between this woman’s persistent faith, a faith that literally would not take “no” for an answer, and the obtuseness of Jesus’ own people.
Jesus went to Sidon, to the region of the Decapolis, the Ten Towns – again, Gentile territory. A deaf man with a speech impediment was brought to him, and the man’s friends begged Jesus to heal him. Jesus took the man aside in private – you could almost imagine Jesus beckoning the man with his hand, saying, “step into my office” – spat, and touched the man’s tongue. With the Amamaic word Ephphatha meaning “Be opened”, Jesus restores the man’s hearing and speech. As often happens in Mark’s Gospel, Jesus ordered the man and his friends to be silent, but they shouted to the mountaintops about what they experienced. “He has done everything well”, they said, “he even makes the deaf to hear and the mute to speak.”
These two accounts mark a point of transition in Jesus’ ministry. God’s grace is being extended beyond the children of Israel to the surrounding Gentiles – and they hear his words gladly, even while Jesus’ relationship with the Jewish religious establishment continues to deteriorate. I’m reminded of the words of Isaiah 2, which speaks of the mountain of the Lord’s House being established, and all nations coming unto it. In considering this passage, I kept coming back to those words of Jesus, which we are given in Aramaic – the language Jesus himself spoke – Ephphatha – “Be opened.” “Be opened!” Of course, in the text Jesus is commanding the ears and mouth of the deaf man to be opened. But in another sense, God’s grace is also being opened to the Gentiles, to those beyond Israel – indeed, to us, sitting here in Bridesburg. And, indeed, I believe Jesus’ words were not just for one specific deaf mute, but for the wider church, and indeed, for us.
“Be opened!” The church has been given the task of proclaiming the good news of the Reign of God, the good news about Jesus Christ. Remember Mark’s Gospel opens with these words, “The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.” Mark’s Gospel tells about the beginning. We here in the church are called to continue to proclaim the good news; indeed to be part of the good news. However, so often we in the church are like the deaf man with the speech impediment, not attuned to the still small voice of God, and garbled in our ability to proclaim it.
It takes discipline and practice to hear God’s still small voice in our lives. I’ve tried numerous times – with very limited success – to learn Spanish. On the rare occasions where I’ve been in Hispanic church settings, such as ordinations and installations at our Hispanic UCC congregations, I always try to speak or preach at least a few words or sentences in Spanish as well as English, but I greatly struggle with the language. My Spanish teachers used to tell our class that, though we could memorize and read Spanish text, in order to really succeed in learning Spanish, we needed to “tune our ears,” so that out of what seemed like an unending torrent of very fast syllables, we could begin to recognize words and phrases.
Just as I have tried with variable results to tune my ears to Spanish, in the same way, we need to tune our ears to God’s still, small voice. If we’re not used to listening, it will be hard at first. We’ll mostly hear the babble of our own racing thoughts going in a hundred directions at once, what practitioners of meditation call our “monkey minds” clamoring for attention. But, like learning a language, it becomes easier with practice. If we wait on God, God will open our minds and our hearts to his word for our lives.
“Be opened!” Just as our ears need to be opened and tuned to hear God’s word, our tongues need to be loosened by God so that we can proclaim the good news of God’s reign, the good news of salvation. And this doesn’t have to involve standing on a street corner and thumping a Bible – in fact, often the loudest proclaimers have the least Good News to offer. As Yeats put it, “The best lack all conviction, while the worst are full of passionate intensity.” Far more often, God uses our acts of compassion and our quiet words of caring, our quiet conversations with our friends and co-workers about what God has done in our lives. If our tongues are loosened, these quiet one-on-one encounters can be God’s way of reaching those God loves with the message of salvation.
It may also be that, like the woman seeking Jesus for healing for her daughter, those outside our circle will find their way to our congregation, seeking healing for their suffering of body or mind or spirit. These may be people from the Bridesburg and Port Richmond neighborhoods, or the neighborhoods surrounding. And here is where our words from James’ letter (James 2) can be instructions for evangelism as well as hospitality – don’t treat some visitors differently from others. As James puts it, “God has chosen the poor to be rich in faith ……” I never cease to be amazed at the steadfast faith of many Christians who are really struggling with the burdens of life, who would have no shortage of reasons to complain, but instead give thanks to God for what they have. So our tongues need to be loosened, so we can proclaim welcome to those who come our way, those who are our neighbors from nearby, and those who are our neighbors from far away.
And – here’s my nod to Labor Day - James’ words also speak to what we aspire to in our society – or say we do, anyway – but so often fail to accomplish – liberty and justice for all. In our public life, do we, through our voting habits and other public actions, support policies that benefit the working poor - or the "wish they were working" poor - or oppress them? Currently the gulf between rich and poor in our society is as great as it’s been in the last 100 years, where a CEO of a financial house makes hundreds of times the earnings of their entry level workers. And at least the custodial staff is presumably managing to keep their facilities clean, to do what they’re being underpaid to do, while CEO’s are paid millions to fail miserably at their job descriptions, and millions more to go away to make room for the next overpaid failure. And I quote: “Is it not the rich who oppress you? Is it not they who drag you into court? Is it not they who blaspheme the excellent name that was invoked over you?” The words of James, the brother of Jesus, not mine.
Be opened! May our spirits also be opened to the presence of the risen Christ in our midst. May this presence of Christ be with us so that our neighbors may meet the Christ that accompanies us on our daily rounds. May the Christ who is a healing presence in our lives, be healing to all we meet, so that they, like the crowds who witnessed Jesus’ miracle may say, “He does all things well; he even makes the deaf to hear and the mute to speak.”
Please join us for worship at Emanuel United Church of Christ on Fillmore Street (off Thompson) Sunday mornings at 10 a.m. www.emanuelphila.org
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Climb on Board!
“Be doers of the word, and not merely hearers who deceive themselves.” James 1:22
Our September lectionary readings have ended their detour into John’s Gospel, to return to the Gospel of Mark. In our readings from Mark chapters 7-9, we see Jesus during some key transitions in His earthly ministry – rejection of the Pharisees’ “tradition of the elders,” an expanding mission to the Gentiles, and discussion of Jesus’ identity and impending death.
Our September Epistle readings come from the letter attributed to James, the brother of Jesus, who was leader of the followers of Jesus at Jerusalem. The Epistle of James offers a wealth of advice on practical Christian living, and provides a corrective to overly “spiritualized” interpretations of Paul’s writings about “salvation by grace through faith alone.”
An old sermon illustration may provide some insight into the Epistle of James. A spectator at the circus was approached by one of the performers, whose “act” was riding a bicycle for two across a tightrope. The performer asked the spectator, “Do you believe I can carry you across this tightrope?” The spectator, wanting to be polite, said, “Yeah, sure.” The performer responded, “Then climb on board!”
As Christians we profess faith in Jesus. Is our faith only a matter of intellectual assent, a “head trip” with no practical effect on our daily lives. James reminds us, “You believe that God is one; you do well. Even the demons believe, and shudder.” (James 2:19) Or is our faith such that we will stake our lives on it? In our faith life, are we spectators or performers.
Jesus invites us on a lifelong journey of discipleship. There will be hazards and times of great danger. Sometimes it will feel like we’re riding a bicycle across a tightrope, not daring to look down. And we will make this precarious journey bearing the weight of the cross of discipleship. But we are promised great reward if we remain faithful.
Do you have faith? Then climb on board!
Our September lectionary readings have ended their detour into John’s Gospel, to return to the Gospel of Mark. In our readings from Mark chapters 7-9, we see Jesus during some key transitions in His earthly ministry – rejection of the Pharisees’ “tradition of the elders,” an expanding mission to the Gentiles, and discussion of Jesus’ identity and impending death.
Our September Epistle readings come from the letter attributed to James, the brother of Jesus, who was leader of the followers of Jesus at Jerusalem. The Epistle of James offers a wealth of advice on practical Christian living, and provides a corrective to overly “spiritualized” interpretations of Paul’s writings about “salvation by grace through faith alone.”
An old sermon illustration may provide some insight into the Epistle of James. A spectator at the circus was approached by one of the performers, whose “act” was riding a bicycle for two across a tightrope. The performer asked the spectator, “Do you believe I can carry you across this tightrope?” The spectator, wanting to be polite, said, “Yeah, sure.” The performer responded, “Then climb on board!”
As Christians we profess faith in Jesus. Is our faith only a matter of intellectual assent, a “head trip” with no practical effect on our daily lives. James reminds us, “You believe that God is one; you do well. Even the demons believe, and shudder.” (James 2:19) Or is our faith such that we will stake our lives on it? In our faith life, are we spectators or performers.
Jesus invites us on a lifelong journey of discipleship. There will be hazards and times of great danger. Sometimes it will feel like we’re riding a bicycle across a tightrope, not daring to look down. And we will make this precarious journey bearing the weight of the cross of discipleship. But we are promised great reward if we remain faithful.
Do you have faith? Then climb on board!
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