Mark 11: 1-33
Two seemingly contrasting stories. Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem followed by his messianic act of cleansing the temple, that corrupt shrine dedicated more to Herod than to God.
When Jesus “cleansed” the temple, I think he was saying that “sacrifices were no longer required. I am the sacrifice. Human made shrines will fall to dust, but I will live forever. And through me, you will too.”
Jesus was breaking down everything that stood between us and God. It was a rebuke of the human impulse to power and glory. He was saying that God cannot be caged, that God is everywhere people need God. God’s Holy Temple was in Jesus, and now in us, the Body of Christ. Everyone who calls upon the name of the Lord, everyone claimed by Jesus for God’s upside down kingdom is God’s Temple.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Lenten Reading Mark 10: 32-52
Mark 10: 32-52
Clearly, the disciples didn’t know what they were asking. They probably had images of gilded thrones and fawning masses when they asked Jesus if they could sit with him in the kingdom of God.
But Jesus had his mind on other things. He knew that God’s kingdom had nothing to do with what we get for ourselves, but that God’s kingdom is about what we give to others. And Jesus gave his life for the sake of the whole world. The kingdom that Jesus was thinking about was the cross.
And it wasn’t his disciples who were at his left and right hands in that kingdom. It was two thieves. But at that moment, I’m guessing James and John didn’t want to trade places with those at Jesus’ side.
Clearly, the disciples didn’t know what they were asking. They probably had images of gilded thrones and fawning masses when they asked Jesus if they could sit with him in the kingdom of God.
But Jesus had his mind on other things. He knew that God’s kingdom had nothing to do with what we get for ourselves, but that God’s kingdom is about what we give to others. And Jesus gave his life for the sake of the whole world. The kingdom that Jesus was thinking about was the cross.
And it wasn’t his disciples who were at his left and right hands in that kingdom. It was two thieves. But at that moment, I’m guessing James and John didn’t want to trade places with those at Jesus’ side.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Lenten Reading Mark 10: 13-31
Mark 10: 13-31
Today’s reading seems to be the climax of chapter 10. This is where Mark ends a string of increasingly demanding and uncomfortable Jesus sayings. This bible reading, this text from Mark’s gospel, chafes and burns like sandpaper. It shows our discipleship as nothing but dirty rags.
“Turn the other cheek,” Jesus says somewhere else, and we remember the time when we angrily swore at the guy who stole our parking spot.
“Love your neighbour as yourself,” Jesus commands, and we remember when we crossed the street to avoid the homeless person coming our way.
“Go sell all you have and give it to the poor,” we overhear Jesus tell that rich, young, man. And we hope those words are meant only for him, because we don’t want Jesus to ask the same thing of us.
“It’s easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for one who is rich to enter the kingdom of God.”
Ouch! What was personal for the young man all of sudden became uncomfortably universal.
It wasn’t as if this young man was a bad guy. He was your model Sunday school student. He knew the bible inside and out and he could recite the Ten Commandments backwards and forwards. He listened attentively in confirmation class, memorized the catechism, and turned in his worship notes ahead of time. He was the kid with all the right answers.
But Jesus cuts him no slack.
He was asking the question that was probably on everyone’s mind, “What must I do to inherit eternal life?”
That’s a great question, don’t you think? I’m guessing everyone has asked that question at one point in their life. But Jesus’ answer gives him no relief.
“If you want to inherit eternal life, you need to get rid of everything. Your house. Your car. Your job. Leave your wife and kids behind. Everything you believe to be true, everything you possess – even your relationships – leave it all behind and come follow me.”
That’s not quite what I had in mind, Jesus. Certainly, you mean you just want us to help out now and then at the soup kitchen; feeding those who can’t feed themselves.
“No, I want you.”
Jesus, of course you mean that you want me to give more money to the church. After all we have a building project we’re fundraising for.
“No, I want it all. Everything.”
C’mon Jesus, you mean to say that you want us to take our faith life more seriously, to read the bible more often, to pray more frequently, to attend church more regularly.
“No, I want your very life.”
Jesus, no one can do what you’re asking.
“Exactly. What you can’t do, God can.”
Today’s reading seems to be the climax of chapter 10. This is where Mark ends a string of increasingly demanding and uncomfortable Jesus sayings. This bible reading, this text from Mark’s gospel, chafes and burns like sandpaper. It shows our discipleship as nothing but dirty rags.
“Turn the other cheek,” Jesus says somewhere else, and we remember the time when we angrily swore at the guy who stole our parking spot.
“Love your neighbour as yourself,” Jesus commands, and we remember when we crossed the street to avoid the homeless person coming our way.
“Go sell all you have and give it to the poor,” we overhear Jesus tell that rich, young, man. And we hope those words are meant only for him, because we don’t want Jesus to ask the same thing of us.
“It’s easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for one who is rich to enter the kingdom of God.”
Ouch! What was personal for the young man all of sudden became uncomfortably universal.
It wasn’t as if this young man was a bad guy. He was your model Sunday school student. He knew the bible inside and out and he could recite the Ten Commandments backwards and forwards. He listened attentively in confirmation class, memorized the catechism, and turned in his worship notes ahead of time. He was the kid with all the right answers.
But Jesus cuts him no slack.
He was asking the question that was probably on everyone’s mind, “What must I do to inherit eternal life?”
That’s a great question, don’t you think? I’m guessing everyone has asked that question at one point in their life. But Jesus’ answer gives him no relief.
“If you want to inherit eternal life, you need to get rid of everything. Your house. Your car. Your job. Leave your wife and kids behind. Everything you believe to be true, everything you possess – even your relationships – leave it all behind and come follow me.”
That’s not quite what I had in mind, Jesus. Certainly, you mean you just want us to help out now and then at the soup kitchen; feeding those who can’t feed themselves.
“No, I want you.”
Jesus, of course you mean that you want me to give more money to the church. After all we have a building project we’re fundraising for.
“No, I want it all. Everything.”
C’mon Jesus, you mean to say that you want us to take our faith life more seriously, to read the bible more often, to pray more frequently, to attend church more regularly.
“No, I want your very life.”
Jesus, no one can do what you’re asking.
“Exactly. What you can’t do, God can.”
Lenten Reading Mark 10: 1-12
Mark 10: 1-12
This is a hard teaching from Jesus. Especially today when divorce rates seem so high. I say “seem” because some suggest that people stayed in marriages in the past because there was no where for people to go when the relationship deteriorated. Abused women stayed with their abuser because, to leave, would mean they’d be on the street.
This saying of Jesus was meant to protect women from men who divorced their wives on a whim. Since the women were dependent on their husbands for food and shelter, a certificate of divorce meant destitution. The same happened if their husbands died. That’s why the bible talks so much about helping widows and orphans.
In a male dominated society, women and children were vulnerable. And left on their own, they received no help, other than the charity of family and friends, when the male of the house decided to move on.
So, I see this passage not as a hard and fast rule against divorce. But as a means of social justice and human compassion. It’s actually a strike against selfishness and a call for men to live up to their familial and social obligations.
To use this passage as an assault against those whose relationships fell apart is to miss the deep social contract that marriage was, and to hurt those who’ve already been wounded by broken relationships. Jesus had no interest in kicking people when they're down. He was VERY interested in protecting the weak and the vulnerable against the attacks of the strong and powerful.
Today, I think its important to see divorce as a tragedy rather than a sin.
This is a hard teaching from Jesus. Especially today when divorce rates seem so high. I say “seem” because some suggest that people stayed in marriages in the past because there was no where for people to go when the relationship deteriorated. Abused women stayed with their abuser because, to leave, would mean they’d be on the street.
This saying of Jesus was meant to protect women from men who divorced their wives on a whim. Since the women were dependent on their husbands for food and shelter, a certificate of divorce meant destitution. The same happened if their husbands died. That’s why the bible talks so much about helping widows and orphans.
In a male dominated society, women and children were vulnerable. And left on their own, they received no help, other than the charity of family and friends, when the male of the house decided to move on.
So, I see this passage not as a hard and fast rule against divorce. But as a means of social justice and human compassion. It’s actually a strike against selfishness and a call for men to live up to their familial and social obligations.
To use this passage as an assault against those whose relationships fell apart is to miss the deep social contract that marriage was, and to hurt those who’ve already been wounded by broken relationships. Jesus had no interest in kicking people when they're down. He was VERY interested in protecting the weak and the vulnerable against the attacks of the strong and powerful.
Today, I think its important to see divorce as a tragedy rather than a sin.
Lenten Reading Mark 9: 38-50
Mark 9: 38-50
Those who say the bible is literally true might have some trouble explaining this passage to their friends. Cutting off your feet and chopping off hands are not rational responses to dealing with sin. In fact, they’re downright dangerous.
But then again, who ever said that following Jesus was rational?
Of course, Jesus is talking in hyperbole, using extreme language to make a simple point. “Don’t put yourself in a situation where you’ll fall into temptation.”
On the surface that sounds reasonable, doable. If you look at it more deeply, it’s harder than it sounds. Unless, as Jesus suggests, we pluck out our eyes, plug our ears, and live underground, temptation will always be with us.
Maybe that’s the point Jesus was trying to get at. We CAN’T escape temptation. If we could, then we wouldn’t need Jesus.
Those who say the bible is literally true might have some trouble explaining this passage to their friends. Cutting off your feet and chopping off hands are not rational responses to dealing with sin. In fact, they’re downright dangerous.
But then again, who ever said that following Jesus was rational?
Of course, Jesus is talking in hyperbole, using extreme language to make a simple point. “Don’t put yourself in a situation where you’ll fall into temptation.”
On the surface that sounds reasonable, doable. If you look at it more deeply, it’s harder than it sounds. Unless, as Jesus suggests, we pluck out our eyes, plug our ears, and live underground, temptation will always be with us.
Maybe that’s the point Jesus was trying to get at. We CAN’T escape temptation. If we could, then we wouldn’t need Jesus.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Lenten Reading Mark 9: 33-37
Mark 9: 33-37
“Whoever wants to be first must be last and servant of all” (v. 35b).
There’s a whole genre of leadership literature on so-called “Servant Leadership.” Some of it, admittedly, misses the point, suggesting that the leader employ a “servant” attitude to gain personal power.
Most books argue, however, that servanthood is a lifestyle, one that connects deeply with others, seeing others as equals, no matter who they are or where they come from.
This is closer to what Jesus is talking about. I think Jesus was saying that that true greatness comes from serving. Which makes paradoxical sense according to God’s upside down kingdom where weakness is strength, wisdom is foolishness, and wealth is poverty.
But we need to realize that Jesus isn’t asking his followers to become doormats. Stephen Ministry distinguishes between “servanthood” and “servitude.” Servitude makes unhealthy demands and drains all love and compassion. Servanthood is born from love and treats people as equals. Servanthood gives life. Servitude drains life.
What does being a servant look like in your life? Do you fall into the servitude trap?
“Whoever wants to be first must be last and servant of all” (v. 35b).
There’s a whole genre of leadership literature on so-called “Servant Leadership.” Some of it, admittedly, misses the point, suggesting that the leader employ a “servant” attitude to gain personal power.
Most books argue, however, that servanthood is a lifestyle, one that connects deeply with others, seeing others as equals, no matter who they are or where they come from.
This is closer to what Jesus is talking about. I think Jesus was saying that that true greatness comes from serving. Which makes paradoxical sense according to God’s upside down kingdom where weakness is strength, wisdom is foolishness, and wealth is poverty.
But we need to realize that Jesus isn’t asking his followers to become doormats. Stephen Ministry distinguishes between “servanthood” and “servitude.” Servitude makes unhealthy demands and drains all love and compassion. Servanthood is born from love and treats people as equals. Servanthood gives life. Servitude drains life.
What does being a servant look like in your life? Do you fall into the servitude trap?
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Lenten Reading Mark 9: 9-29
Mark 9: 9-29
In a roundabout way, this story warms my faithless heart. It’s because the disciples don’t always get it right either. Their prayers aren’t always answered, their power is often limited by their lack of faith.
When my prayers seem ineffective, when God’s power seems a million miles away, I turn to this story to know that I’m not alone. That it’s only by God’s grace that my work has any effect.
This doesn’t mean that I sit back and let God do everything. It DOES mean that I can’t control God. If I could, then would it really be God I am controlling?
In a roundabout way, this story warms my faithless heart. It’s because the disciples don’t always get it right either. Their prayers aren’t always answered, their power is often limited by their lack of faith.
When my prayers seem ineffective, when God’s power seems a million miles away, I turn to this story to know that I’m not alone. That it’s only by God’s grace that my work has any effect.
This doesn’t mean that I sit back and let God do everything. It DOES mean that I can’t control God. If I could, then would it really be God I am controlling?
Lenten Reading Mark 9:1-8
Mark 9:1-8
I don’t know about you but one of the greatest temptations I face is to re-create Jesus in my own image, just so I don’t have to listen to what he has to say. I know I’m not alone. A quick survey of biblical scholarship over the past 50 years and you’ll encounter a whole lot of Jesuses.
We hear that Jesus is a wandering philosopher. Others say that he’s a great moral - even an inspired - teacher. Others see Jesus as a political revolutionary, where others say Jesus is their best friend.
But Jesus says that he is the one who descends from the glory of the mountaintop to the shame of the cross, and then asked us to do the same thing.
That’s hard to listen to. Most people I know aspire to the mountaintop, not to the cross. It’s easier on the mountain. It’s that stuff about the cross that leaves most of us cold.
Lent, we take the 40-day journey with Jesus to the cross. On the way, before the journey’s end, we’ll hear stories of Jesus facing opposition, resistance, cruelty, and death. And Jesus points to us and says, “You’re coming with me.”
Maybe you’re all ready there, down in the valley, waiting for him. Maybe someone you love has been in the valley for so long that you really don’t believe there is a way back out. And even if there were a way, you don’t know if you can find the strength to pull yourself out, much less believe you can climb any mountain.
That’s why Jesus asks the rest of us to be the mountain for you.
There is a character in one of Iris Murdock’s novels that that says, “Saints are those who are able to absorb evil without passing it on.” Just like Jesus. Someone else said that saints are those who, like windows in the church, some of the glory of God shines through.
And I don’t think they mean Saints – capital S – I think they mean us little saints, those who have been called by God through the waters of baptism to be light for the world, to shine in the dark places, to glow with the love of God for all who are brokenhearted and need God’s healing.
I think God is asking us to be mountaintops shining into valleys, so you will shine God’s love and glory upon everyone you meet. God is asking us to blaze like the sun when the lives of those around us go cold.
It is my prayer that you will shine, that you will so manifest the love and power of God, that people are around will say, “It’s good for us to be here.”
I don’t know about you but one of the greatest temptations I face is to re-create Jesus in my own image, just so I don’t have to listen to what he has to say. I know I’m not alone. A quick survey of biblical scholarship over the past 50 years and you’ll encounter a whole lot of Jesuses.
We hear that Jesus is a wandering philosopher. Others say that he’s a great moral - even an inspired - teacher. Others see Jesus as a political revolutionary, where others say Jesus is their best friend.
But Jesus says that he is the one who descends from the glory of the mountaintop to the shame of the cross, and then asked us to do the same thing.
That’s hard to listen to. Most people I know aspire to the mountaintop, not to the cross. It’s easier on the mountain. It’s that stuff about the cross that leaves most of us cold.
Lent, we take the 40-day journey with Jesus to the cross. On the way, before the journey’s end, we’ll hear stories of Jesus facing opposition, resistance, cruelty, and death. And Jesus points to us and says, “You’re coming with me.”
Maybe you’re all ready there, down in the valley, waiting for him. Maybe someone you love has been in the valley for so long that you really don’t believe there is a way back out. And even if there were a way, you don’t know if you can find the strength to pull yourself out, much less believe you can climb any mountain.
That’s why Jesus asks the rest of us to be the mountain for you.
There is a character in one of Iris Murdock’s novels that that says, “Saints are those who are able to absorb evil without passing it on.” Just like Jesus. Someone else said that saints are those who, like windows in the church, some of the glory of God shines through.
And I don’t think they mean Saints – capital S – I think they mean us little saints, those who have been called by God through the waters of baptism to be light for the world, to shine in the dark places, to glow with the love of God for all who are brokenhearted and need God’s healing.
I think God is asking us to be mountaintops shining into valleys, so you will shine God’s love and glory upon everyone you meet. God is asking us to blaze like the sun when the lives of those around us go cold.
It is my prayer that you will shine, that you will so manifest the love and power of God, that people are around will say, “It’s good for us to be here.”
Sunday, March 22, 2009
Sermon: Lent 4 - Year B
I have uber-sensitive teeth. Despite all my brushing and flossing, hot coffee and cold water become my own personal torture chambers.
So, my quarterly trip to the dentist feels like a date with the Russian mob, to whom I owe a month’s salary. I don’t know what’s worse, the digging into my gums with a sharp metal hook, or the needle the size of pruning shears they jab into my jaw to freeze it - to stop the pain.
And when I’m done, the dental assistant looks just as traumatized as I feel.
While dental work has its own unique discomforts, at least we know what to expect, and we know it’ll all be over and done with by the length of a Simpsons’ episode, life itself doesn’t promise an end when pain and suffering intrude in our lives.
But the question for me is, Can pain, somehow, be redemptive? Can it have meaning beyond the present torment or heartache?
“For God...(whole thing here)
Saturday, March 21, 2009
How to lose friends and alienate countries
via
On a day when we lost four soldiers. Astounding.
UPDATE: Fox apologizes.
UPDATE II Apparently some Canadians think such mockery of Canada just after losing four soldiers is just fine, and we look "stupid" for getting angry.
Lenten Reading Mark 8: 27-38
Mark 8: 27-38
Jesus says, “take up your cross and follow me.”
Not pain for pain’s sake. But the consequence of believing a different story than the one our cultural tells. The story that we are not in change of the world or our lives, but that God is. The story that says that person’s worth is not decided by how much money he makes or how by how much stuff is in her garage, or by how smart they are, but by how much they loved and served others the way Jesus loved and served.
That’s Jesus’ story, and the story he calls us into.
A baptist church in Atlanta decided that there were going to live that story. The looked around and saw that there were enough generic, megachurches, in the city, and so they were going to be different.
They weren’t going to worry about growing, there wasn’t going to be a high-profile marketing campaign, they weren’t going to pay people $100 to attend church like one of their church neighbours did, they weren’t going to auction off a Porsche on Easter Sunday like another church did, they weren’t going to hire a professional rock band to lead the singing. They were simply going to live as Jesus asked them to live.
They were going to follow the way of the cross. They were going to be servants to the community and tell them Jesus’ story.
They organized a food pantry that grew into a food bank. They handed out sandwiches and coffee to homeless people and prostitutes. They prayed for their neighborhood, not that people would come to church, but that a woman’s cancer would be healed, that the guy next door would find a job, that the boy from down the street would be kept safe while serving in Afghanistan.
They marched against racism and child poverty. They advocated for abused women. They challenged gangs in their neighbourhoods.
And soon folks started coming to their church. They formed membership classes where the faith was explained and expectations were outlined. If you were healthy and in town on Sunday, then you were at church. No exceptions. You had to join a small group. You had to help out in one of the church’s ministries. And you had to tithe 10% of your income. No tourists allowed.
“They crazy thing is,” the pastor said, “people did it- joyfully! We grew despite all the expectations we threw at people. The more expectations, the more we grew. I guess people aren’t just looking for a Sunday morning fix. It looks like folks are hungering for the real thing. ”
Of course, the danger is that Christianity can then be seen and experienced as a bunch of tasks and obligations, do’s and don’ts, rather that living in God’s forgiveness and love. But one thing I found fascinating about that church was that they didn’t specifically worry about growth, they worried about living the way Jesus asked them to live.
But did they invite people to church? Absolutely. Did they work hard at sharing Jesus’ message of new life with their neighbours? Definitely. Did they love their neighbours’ with Jesus’ love? Undoubtedly.
And they did more than that. They called people into a story that wasn’t of their own telling, a story they couldn’t make up for themselves. They called people into a story that went beyond themselves, beyond their consumer needs, beyond their petty hungers and desires. A story that asks them to die, so that they may rise again with new eyes and a new heart. A story that says, “Take up your cross and follow me.”
Jesus says, “take up your cross and follow me.”
Not pain for pain’s sake. But the consequence of believing a different story than the one our cultural tells. The story that we are not in change of the world or our lives, but that God is. The story that says that person’s worth is not decided by how much money he makes or how by how much stuff is in her garage, or by how smart they are, but by how much they loved and served others the way Jesus loved and served.
That’s Jesus’ story, and the story he calls us into.
A baptist church in Atlanta decided that there were going to live that story. The looked around and saw that there were enough generic, megachurches, in the city, and so they were going to be different.
They weren’t going to worry about growing, there wasn’t going to be a high-profile marketing campaign, they weren’t going to pay people $100 to attend church like one of their church neighbours did, they weren’t going to auction off a Porsche on Easter Sunday like another church did, they weren’t going to hire a professional rock band to lead the singing. They were simply going to live as Jesus asked them to live.
They were going to follow the way of the cross. They were going to be servants to the community and tell them Jesus’ story.
They organized a food pantry that grew into a food bank. They handed out sandwiches and coffee to homeless people and prostitutes. They prayed for their neighborhood, not that people would come to church, but that a woman’s cancer would be healed, that the guy next door would find a job, that the boy from down the street would be kept safe while serving in Afghanistan.
They marched against racism and child poverty. They advocated for abused women. They challenged gangs in their neighbourhoods.
And soon folks started coming to their church. They formed membership classes where the faith was explained and expectations were outlined. If you were healthy and in town on Sunday, then you were at church. No exceptions. You had to join a small group. You had to help out in one of the church’s ministries. And you had to tithe 10% of your income. No tourists allowed.
“They crazy thing is,” the pastor said, “people did it- joyfully! We grew despite all the expectations we threw at people. The more expectations, the more we grew. I guess people aren’t just looking for a Sunday morning fix. It looks like folks are hungering for the real thing. ”
Of course, the danger is that Christianity can then be seen and experienced as a bunch of tasks and obligations, do’s and don’ts, rather that living in God’s forgiveness and love. But one thing I found fascinating about that church was that they didn’t specifically worry about growth, they worried about living the way Jesus asked them to live.
But did they invite people to church? Absolutely. Did they work hard at sharing Jesus’ message of new life with their neighbours? Definitely. Did they love their neighbours’ with Jesus’ love? Undoubtedly.
And they did more than that. They called people into a story that wasn’t of their own telling, a story they couldn’t make up for themselves. They called people into a story that went beyond themselves, beyond their consumer needs, beyond their petty hungers and desires. A story that asks them to die, so that they may rise again with new eyes and a new heart. A story that says, “Take up your cross and follow me.”
Lenten Reading Mark 8: 14-26
Mark 8: 14-26
It’s not always easy to see God in action, is it? “Do you still not understand?” Jesus asks, bluntly?
No, actually, we don’t. We don’t see God at work, even if its happening right in front of our faces. I don’t know about you but often I need some distance before I recognize what God was doing.
Looking back at my childhood, I can see God’s fingerprints all over what was, at the time, just life unfolding. My musical involvement, the seminary I ended up at, the woman sitting at the table who became my wife. Through all of these events God led me down a jagged path to where I am now.
That doesn’t mean that I’m a fatalist, and neither is God. But it does mean that God is - somehow - involved in our lives whether we notice it or not.
It’s not always easy to see God in action, is it? “Do you still not understand?” Jesus asks, bluntly?
No, actually, we don’t. We don’t see God at work, even if its happening right in front of our faces. I don’t know about you but often I need some distance before I recognize what God was doing.
Looking back at my childhood, I can see God’s fingerprints all over what was, at the time, just life unfolding. My musical involvement, the seminary I ended up at, the woman sitting at the table who became my wife. Through all of these events God led me down a jagged path to where I am now.
That doesn’t mean that I’m a fatalist, and neither is God. But it does mean that God is - somehow - involved in our lives whether we notice it or not.
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