A well known actor was asked at a special Christian gathering to recite the 23rd Psalm. So, with great drama and flair, he mounted the stage and artfully articulated the vivid imagery of this familiar piece of Scripture. The people were entertained and in awe of his ability to articulate each word and to sprinkle just the right amount of inflection in key spots throughout the Psalm. Later in the same program, an elderly, respected woman of the community was asked to make some kind of contribution to the evening. She rose to the stage and apologized to the people because she could think of nothing else to share but a piece of Scripture she knew best; and you guessed it - the 23rd Psalm. Her voice cracked as she started, “The Lord is my shepherd.” She stumbled over her words, and the people had to strain to hear her low, monotone voice. Yet, there was a very real passion and sense of faith that resignated from her heart. She spoke the psalm as if it were something deeply internalized within her soul. Every monotne word was spoken in genuine affection for her love and gratitude to God. When she finished, there was not a dry eye in the house. The great actor climbed onto the stage and hugged the old woman and explained the difference. “I know the psalm,” he said, “but she lives the psalm.”
Believing what we live, and living what we believe. How many times have we looked at our spouse or someone else we are close to and apologized for failing to live up to a promise? Again! And how many times has that person(s) looked us in the eye and told us to save our apologies because ‘actions speak louder than words?’ I don’t know about other folks but when I find myself in this position I always feel spiritually rotten inside. I feel as if I dropped the ball by failing to follow through with my commitments. Or perhaps, and even more concerning, maybe there is no commitment or conviction in my words.
Actions do speak louder than words. We can make many claims in our lives; we can make promises galore; we can have the best intentions in the world, but unless we follow through with those deeds (no matter how admirable our sincerity and willingness) they count for nothing; nothing more than meaningless and hollow articulated sounds. Words are a most vital in our communication with one another. They have great power to bring us together or drive us apart. Words can bring peace and comfort, or they can bring war and conflict. Words have power; for both good and bad. Every single day words have the ability to open the encounters of our hearts and minds to new and exciting interpretations. In our daily lives words also have the ability to rob us of meaningful relationships. Words cannot stand alone. Unless there is substance, trust and action behind them, they are nothing more than meaningless verbiage that drive wedges between us, and those we love.
The Apostle John understood the need to not only speak the truth, but live it as well. In his first letter he wrote, “Little children, let us love, not in word or speech, but in truth and action.” Literally translated: "...let us love, not with lip service, but in truth and action." A colleague of mine when preaching often says in his opening prayer, “Lord, let me faithfully preach the Gospel today, and when necessary --- use words.” Each of us is called to live our lives as faithful Christians who read, digest and embrace God’s Holy Word. After all, Christ is the living Word of God; the way, the truth and the life. We can profess this all day long, but in the end do we practice what we preach? Do we put our faith in active motion and truly live as wholesome examples in Christ?
In his first epistle John maintains consistency with his Gospel. He emphasizes the importance of faith actions and deeds. For John, this is vital and relevant to our salvation. While love, truth and light are revealed in Christ they only become pertinent in our lives through active faith (deeds and actions). Many of us know how to talk the talk (for some of us talking has never been a problem), but do we know how to walk the walk?
These 50 days of Easter are about learning to both talk the talk as well as walk the walk. Easter presents us with multiple opportunities to encounter the Risen Lord, and like the Apostles, allow him to open our minds to his Word. Like the disciples after the resurrection, once we encounter the Risen Lord and inwardly digest his living Word, we can’t help but move into truthful and loving action.
The bottom line – it is easy to say we love others and want to reach out to them in reconciliation, kindness or thoughtful concern; but unless we seek them with truthful intentions and right actions our faith becomes stagnant and wrought with despair. Know Christ, but live Christ and make him known!
Monday, April 27, 2009
Thursday, April 23, 2009
I Want to Walk with Jesus: Barefooted and Free!
Some of my fondest memories of growing up in the Deep South are forged from my youthful days of freedom; an innocent freedom born out of my dear affection for summer (despite the incredibly hot temperatures and near 100% humidity). The long lazy days, afternoon thundershowers and endless time playing outside (barefooted of course) until long after dark are as much a part of my spiritual formation as time spent in church. For many of us the outdoors is God’s vast cathedral, one that no work of brick and mortar can ever match. Summer is a time in which life thrives intensely, just before the sudden, necessary and natural cycle of fall’s decay announces the silent dormancy of winter.
Jesus’ life and ministry (most likely barefooted) was one that was fully thriving, growing and spreading throughout Galilee and Judah. Like a bright summer’s day full of life, thunder and seemly never ending, Jesus was in the prime of his mission when suddenly the winds of change shifted, and the darkness of winter abruptly arrived. Did he expect this change? Was he prepared for this sudden and abrupt transition? His divinity certainly understood the demands of his mission, but Jesus’ humanity railed against the bitter chalice filled with gloom and death. In the youth of his life a cold chill stirred the night air in the Garden of Gethsemane; a bone cutting coldness brought on by the kiss of betrayal. The thriving life of summer came to a deafening and eerie hush, as Jesus began his silent plight to winter’s barren cross.
The very life of God flows through us because Jesus sacrificed himself for us; spilling his precious blood so that our ravaged, lost and shattered spirits might be preserved from the oppressive bondage of sin and death. Through the love and faithfulness of Christ Jesus our Lord, in the midst of winters harsh, savage and barren coldness life and hope awoke. Jesus destroyed the black emptiness of the desolate tomb, transforming the gloom of that early Easter morning into light and joyful reunion. Nothing of this world, not even death, could contain the Lord of all Creation. As hard as it is to sometimes believe, nothing of this world can separate us from the grace and love of our Lord Jesus Christ. The cold season of winter will still fall across the landscape of our lives; the snow and hard ice will form on our hearts from time to time; and the life around us will still feel desolate and barren on occasion; that is simply life on life’s terms in this broken world. The good news is that spring will come, flowers will bloom and our lives will feel the warm hope that gently blows across our shattered hearts and dispirited dreams. And if we listen very carefully, we will hear the sounds of an eternal summer; a delightful enunciation of grace beckoning us to cast aside our heavy burdens in order to run forever, barefooted and free.
Jesus’ life and ministry (most likely barefooted) was one that was fully thriving, growing and spreading throughout Galilee and Judah. Like a bright summer’s day full of life, thunder and seemly never ending, Jesus was in the prime of his mission when suddenly the winds of change shifted, and the darkness of winter abruptly arrived. Did he expect this change? Was he prepared for this sudden and abrupt transition? His divinity certainly understood the demands of his mission, but Jesus’ humanity railed against the bitter chalice filled with gloom and death. In the youth of his life a cold chill stirred the night air in the Garden of Gethsemane; a bone cutting coldness brought on by the kiss of betrayal. The thriving life of summer came to a deafening and eerie hush, as Jesus began his silent plight to winter’s barren cross.
The very life of God flows through us because Jesus sacrificed himself for us; spilling his precious blood so that our ravaged, lost and shattered spirits might be preserved from the oppressive bondage of sin and death. Through the love and faithfulness of Christ Jesus our Lord, in the midst of winters harsh, savage and barren coldness life and hope awoke. Jesus destroyed the black emptiness of the desolate tomb, transforming the gloom of that early Easter morning into light and joyful reunion. Nothing of this world, not even death, could contain the Lord of all Creation. As hard as it is to sometimes believe, nothing of this world can separate us from the grace and love of our Lord Jesus Christ. The cold season of winter will still fall across the landscape of our lives; the snow and hard ice will form on our hearts from time to time; and the life around us will still feel desolate and barren on occasion; that is simply life on life’s terms in this broken world. The good news is that spring will come, flowers will bloom and our lives will feel the warm hope that gently blows across our shattered hearts and dispirited dreams. And if we listen very carefully, we will hear the sounds of an eternal summer; a delightful enunciation of grace beckoning us to cast aside our heavy burdens in order to run forever, barefooted and free.
Saturday, April 11, 2009
Leaving Loose Ends Untied.
An Arab chief once told a story of a spy who was captured and then sentenced to death by a general in the Persian army. This general had the strange custom of giving condemned criminals a choice between the firing squad and the ‘big, black door.’ As the moment for execution drew near, the spy was brought to the Persian general, who asked the question, “What will it be: the firing squad or the big, black door?”The spy hesitated for a long time. It was a difficult decision. Finally, after much fearful deliberation he chose the firing squad.Moments later shots rang out confirming his execution. The general turned to his aide and said, “They always prefer the known way to the unknown. It is characteristic of people to be afraid of the undefined. Yet, we gave him a choice.”The aide said, “What lies beyond the big black door?”“Freedom,” replied the general. “But very few people have the courage to dare and risk opening that door, much less walk through it’s portal.”
Fear of the unknown; that is what we find on this glorious Easter morning. Mark’s account of the resurrection is one that makes us all some what uncomfortable and uneasy. After sixteen chapters Mark simply leaves us with the women running as fast as they can to escape the empty tomb (and of course an angelic encounter!). His Gospel narrative leaves us in desperate need of closure. The last thing we actually see are the women high-tailing it out of the garden in great fear. I don’t think they had any problem in choosing the door over the firing squad (metaphorically speaking). They ran as fast as they could back into their own comfort zones and the comfortable reality it provided them. After all, someone or something had moved that giant stone from the entrance into the tomb and Jesus’ body was nowhere to be found. The removal of the body must have been devastating enough for Jesus’ friends, not to mention all of the mystery surrounding that early morning encounter.
But what if the women had found Jesus’ body in the tomb? What if every thing had worked out nice and neat the way they expected? What if there was no shocking surprise or heavenly encounter? What if there was no risk involved and every thing went as planned? What if there were no choices to make beyond (say) what spices to anoint Jesus’ corpse; or no decisions beyond how to remove the stone from the entrance? If every thing had gone as expected for the three women on that first Easter morning; if they had found their closure by anointing the body of Jesus; and if they had tied up all of their loose ends - we wouldn’t be here today. Mark, the brilliant and inspired evangelist he was – intentionally left the Gospel ending open and loose ends untied.
Many of us like to have everything wrapped up nice and tidy in an orderly and explainable fashion. But guess what? That is not the nature of God and it is certainly isn’t characteristic of a life in Christ! God sent the women to tell the disciple’s of Jesus’ resurrection, without even giving them even the tiniest glimpse of the risen Lord! Mark leaves us wondering if they metaphorically chose the firing squad or the big black door; because the evangelist tells us they ran away in fear and said nothing (Nothing) to anyone. The greatest event in creation occurs (the Resurrection) and fear, doubt and ambiguity appear to win out; or do they?
The angel told the women that Jesus had risen and already gone to Galilee. The disciples and followers of Christ would certainly encounter him there. In the end, God’s grace will always transcend our faithlessness. In the end, God’s love will always overcome our fear. And in the end, God’s triumph of life eternal will always conquer death. Nevertheless, the choice of what kind of life we choose to lead is important to our quality of faith and spirituality.
We like to know what is coming next in life - don’t we? Most of us don’t care for surprises. We aren’t about to choose “the big black door” if we are afraid. It is amazing that we will choose self- destructive and sometimes deadly paths even though we know they are roads to nowhere; but in a sick manner, we at least can rationalize and are content with the certain knowledge of where they lead!
Often when confronted with such choices in life we find ourselves frozen in fear and indecisive. It’s a difficult and unfortunate position when we stand with one foot in yesterday and another in tomorrow. In the words of one theologian, “We crucify ourselves between two thieves: on the one side is regret for yesterday, and on the other is fear of tomorrow;” - two thieves that rob our lives of so much joy. That is one wretched place to exist my dear friends. A life of fear is one of sorrow, resentment and much regret. Yet its our choice isn’t it?
For one moment I ask us to think about those fear filled times in our lives; think back on the joy as well as opportunities that fear has caused us to miss. Touch those wounds received by life. Feel the ridges and contours of those bitter scars. In the light of the resurrection, are we willing to risk opening our hearts just a little, even though every fiber of our being rails against the hurt that could take place in that vulnerable moment? The resurrection gives us another chance at living life to its fullest potential without the overwhelming and daunting fear. Jesus rose from the grave and bought for us with his own precious blood a renewed hope and new shot at life. The risen Lord beacons to us - leave behind those consuming fears, rejoice in the power of God’s redeeming love, and don’t worry about what we don’t or can’t see (untied, loose ends). Freedom despite life’s uncertainties is what the resurrection in Mark’s Gospel is all about – freedom; freedom to embrace what lies in the unknown without worry or stress. Christ is calling us on this glorious Easter morn to walk with him down a path named – Faith. It is faith that leads to truth and it is the truth (as Jesus tells us) that will set us free.
So Mark reminds us that a life in Christ Jesus is one that thrives in the gray areas of life and embraces the unknown. True spiritual growth only occurs in the ambiguity of risk and the acceptance of change. Spiritual maturity occurs when we faithfully step through the big black door, even though we know not what awaits us behind its mystery. But by stepping through the door of faith and embracing the risen Christ we can let go of our regrets of yesterday, as well as those phantom fears of tomorrow. We can then live my sisters and brothers- truly live! We can live a full life (with all of its challenges) with faith, joy and hope in the present!
Today Christ has risen!!! Today we have a renewed hope, a new covenant with God and an assurance of freedom from the bondage of sin and death. Today, we are bathed in the glowing light of the resurrection and brought through that mysterious door that leads to eternal life
Fear of the unknown; that is what we find on this glorious Easter morning. Mark’s account of the resurrection is one that makes us all some what uncomfortable and uneasy. After sixteen chapters Mark simply leaves us with the women running as fast as they can to escape the empty tomb (and of course an angelic encounter!). His Gospel narrative leaves us in desperate need of closure. The last thing we actually see are the women high-tailing it out of the garden in great fear. I don’t think they had any problem in choosing the door over the firing squad (metaphorically speaking). They ran as fast as they could back into their own comfort zones and the comfortable reality it provided them. After all, someone or something had moved that giant stone from the entrance into the tomb and Jesus’ body was nowhere to be found. The removal of the body must have been devastating enough for Jesus’ friends, not to mention all of the mystery surrounding that early morning encounter.
But what if the women had found Jesus’ body in the tomb? What if every thing had worked out nice and neat the way they expected? What if there was no shocking surprise or heavenly encounter? What if there was no risk involved and every thing went as planned? What if there were no choices to make beyond (say) what spices to anoint Jesus’ corpse; or no decisions beyond how to remove the stone from the entrance? If every thing had gone as expected for the three women on that first Easter morning; if they had found their closure by anointing the body of Jesus; and if they had tied up all of their loose ends - we wouldn’t be here today. Mark, the brilliant and inspired evangelist he was – intentionally left the Gospel ending open and loose ends untied.
Many of us like to have everything wrapped up nice and tidy in an orderly and explainable fashion. But guess what? That is not the nature of God and it is certainly isn’t characteristic of a life in Christ! God sent the women to tell the disciple’s of Jesus’ resurrection, without even giving them even the tiniest glimpse of the risen Lord! Mark leaves us wondering if they metaphorically chose the firing squad or the big black door; because the evangelist tells us they ran away in fear and said nothing (Nothing) to anyone. The greatest event in creation occurs (the Resurrection) and fear, doubt and ambiguity appear to win out; or do they?
The angel told the women that Jesus had risen and already gone to Galilee. The disciples and followers of Christ would certainly encounter him there. In the end, God’s grace will always transcend our faithlessness. In the end, God’s love will always overcome our fear. And in the end, God’s triumph of life eternal will always conquer death. Nevertheless, the choice of what kind of life we choose to lead is important to our quality of faith and spirituality.
We like to know what is coming next in life - don’t we? Most of us don’t care for surprises. We aren’t about to choose “the big black door” if we are afraid. It is amazing that we will choose self- destructive and sometimes deadly paths even though we know they are roads to nowhere; but in a sick manner, we at least can rationalize and are content with the certain knowledge of where they lead!
Often when confronted with such choices in life we find ourselves frozen in fear and indecisive. It’s a difficult and unfortunate position when we stand with one foot in yesterday and another in tomorrow. In the words of one theologian, “We crucify ourselves between two thieves: on the one side is regret for yesterday, and on the other is fear of tomorrow;” - two thieves that rob our lives of so much joy. That is one wretched place to exist my dear friends. A life of fear is one of sorrow, resentment and much regret. Yet its our choice isn’t it?
For one moment I ask us to think about those fear filled times in our lives; think back on the joy as well as opportunities that fear has caused us to miss. Touch those wounds received by life. Feel the ridges and contours of those bitter scars. In the light of the resurrection, are we willing to risk opening our hearts just a little, even though every fiber of our being rails against the hurt that could take place in that vulnerable moment? The resurrection gives us another chance at living life to its fullest potential without the overwhelming and daunting fear. Jesus rose from the grave and bought for us with his own precious blood a renewed hope and new shot at life. The risen Lord beacons to us - leave behind those consuming fears, rejoice in the power of God’s redeeming love, and don’t worry about what we don’t or can’t see (untied, loose ends). Freedom despite life’s uncertainties is what the resurrection in Mark’s Gospel is all about – freedom; freedom to embrace what lies in the unknown without worry or stress. Christ is calling us on this glorious Easter morn to walk with him down a path named – Faith. It is faith that leads to truth and it is the truth (as Jesus tells us) that will set us free.
So Mark reminds us that a life in Christ Jesus is one that thrives in the gray areas of life and embraces the unknown. True spiritual growth only occurs in the ambiguity of risk and the acceptance of change. Spiritual maturity occurs when we faithfully step through the big black door, even though we know not what awaits us behind its mystery. But by stepping through the door of faith and embracing the risen Christ we can let go of our regrets of yesterday, as well as those phantom fears of tomorrow. We can then live my sisters and brothers- truly live! We can live a full life (with all of its challenges) with faith, joy and hope in the present!
Today Christ has risen!!! Today we have a renewed hope, a new covenant with God and an assurance of freedom from the bondage of sin and death. Today, we are bathed in the glowing light of the resurrection and brought through that mysterious door that leads to eternal life
Jesus is Laid in the Sepulchre
Laid in a borrowed tomb, awaiting the sign of Jonah
-the only sign that would be given to His generation
-that after three days and nights in the womb of the earth,
the belly of the fish, the grave and hell,
He would come forth to do His Father's will
-Jesus the humble Son of God , the exultant Son of Man,
the eternal contradiction, the Blessed One.
The end is not yet. Weeping endures for a night,
but joy comes in the morning.
The good news - 'He is risen' -
will burst upon the Son-rise.
Therefore with joy we shall draw water
out of the wells of salvation.
When all is dark,
and Hope is buried,
it is hard to trust His words
that promised, before the pain:
He died that I might live.
In His death is my birth.
He dies that I might live.
In His life is my life.
He died that I might live.
My Jesus! He died that I might live.
He died that I might live.
~ 'The Way of the Cross,' Celtic Daily Prayer.
-the only sign that would be given to His generation
-that after three days and nights in the womb of the earth,
the belly of the fish, the grave and hell,
He would come forth to do His Father's will
-Jesus the humble Son of God , the exultant Son of Man,
the eternal contradiction, the Blessed One.
The end is not yet. Weeping endures for a night,
but joy comes in the morning.
The good news - 'He is risen' -
will burst upon the Son-rise.
Therefore with joy we shall draw water
out of the wells of salvation.
When all is dark,
and Hope is buried,
it is hard to trust His words
that promised, before the pain:
He died that I might live.
In His death is my birth.
He dies that I might live.
In His life is my life.
He died that I might live.
My Jesus! He died that I might live.
He died that I might live.
~ 'The Way of the Cross,' Celtic Daily Prayer.
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
I dared to Look in the Mirror and What did I See?
During this most Holy Week in Christendom, like many faithful believers, I have decided to do all I can to walk with a more intentional purpose with our Lord Jesus Christ through his passion. I hope to journey through this week and emerge with a stronger vision and embodiment of Christ. I want to look deep below the surface of the passion narrative to see just how and (probably more importantly) why God relates to us.
I ask myself: When we look into the face of the tortured, flogged and mocked Jesus, what do we see? When we hear the hostile crowds yell to Pilate, "Crucify Him!" do we hear our voice mingled amongst the mob?
I truly enjoy the little book, "Love Set Free" by Brother Martin L. Smith, SSJE. In the Gospel of John during Jesus' trial we hear Pilate say, "Here is the man!" Brother Smith stresses that this one tiny sentence is a profound revelation to our inner selves. The humanity of Jesus is important and vital to our salvation and hope. The longer and more deeply we gaze at Jesus the better we are able to internalize and witness "the dignity of his [Jesus'] stillness and suffering compassion and companionship of God." By entering into the darkness of Christ's passion and suffering, we realize the profound truth; "God is not a distant God looking down at this scene[Jesus' trial and execution] or a remote God peering over the horizon." By looking into the suffering eyes of Christ Jesus we get a tiny glimpse of the incredible nature of God. For it is "only by drawing near enough to us to be caught up in the cycle of human self-destructive violence does God get near enough to end the cycle with healing, reconciliation and reunion."
God strives to get as close to us as we will allow him. This is how our lives are transformed and the cycle of self-destructive behavior is broken. God is an engaging God who genuinely wants to be in communion with us. Through Christ Jesus we are drawn nearer to God; we are made one with him - just as he and the Father are one. There is a genuine dignity in this precious moment; for it is here, in this intimate moment that our inner most pain and suffering are not only revealed, but absorbed in Christ's suffering and pain. Gods meets us where we are in life and thus opens our hearts to shine through the darkness, and live as wholesome examples in Christ.
In conclusion, when we look into the tortured, blood stained and bruised face of Jesus what do we see? I see a compassionate God who loves and honors the dignity in all people, even when those same people lash out and turn away from him. I see a loving God whose passion for humanity far exceeds our often selfish and rebellious behavior. I see a God who allows us to throw him under the bus, only to reach out in reconciling forgiveness and invite us to sit beside him on the bus.
Will we accept God's invitation to walk through this most holy week with Jesus? Will we dare to look into the face of Christ and risk seeing a reflection of our broken selves? Do we dare acknowledge those places where we harbor our most intense pain and shame? Will we open our hearts to the compassion of Christ and let him heal those festering sores; sores that are infected with resentment, hate and self-centeredness?
This Holy Week dare to look into the mirror eyes of Christ. Embrace the truth that stares back at us; for it is not only a reflection of our own hurt, sorrow and pain, but a reflection of Christ's redeeming love as well.
I ask myself: When we look into the face of the tortured, flogged and mocked Jesus, what do we see? When we hear the hostile crowds yell to Pilate, "Crucify Him!" do we hear our voice mingled amongst the mob?
I truly enjoy the little book, "Love Set Free" by Brother Martin L. Smith, SSJE. In the Gospel of John during Jesus' trial we hear Pilate say, "Here is the man!" Brother Smith stresses that this one tiny sentence is a profound revelation to our inner selves. The humanity of Jesus is important and vital to our salvation and hope. The longer and more deeply we gaze at Jesus the better we are able to internalize and witness "the dignity of his [Jesus'] stillness and suffering compassion and companionship of God." By entering into the darkness of Christ's passion and suffering, we realize the profound truth; "God is not a distant God looking down at this scene[Jesus' trial and execution] or a remote God peering over the horizon." By looking into the suffering eyes of Christ Jesus we get a tiny glimpse of the incredible nature of God. For it is "only by drawing near enough to us to be caught up in the cycle of human self-destructive violence does God get near enough to end the cycle with healing, reconciliation and reunion."
God strives to get as close to us as we will allow him. This is how our lives are transformed and the cycle of self-destructive behavior is broken. God is an engaging God who genuinely wants to be in communion with us. Through Christ Jesus we are drawn nearer to God; we are made one with him - just as he and the Father are one. There is a genuine dignity in this precious moment; for it is here, in this intimate moment that our inner most pain and suffering are not only revealed, but absorbed in Christ's suffering and pain. Gods meets us where we are in life and thus opens our hearts to shine through the darkness, and live as wholesome examples in Christ.
In conclusion, when we look into the tortured, blood stained and bruised face of Jesus what do we see? I see a compassionate God who loves and honors the dignity in all people, even when those same people lash out and turn away from him. I see a loving God whose passion for humanity far exceeds our often selfish and rebellious behavior. I see a God who allows us to throw him under the bus, only to reach out in reconciling forgiveness and invite us to sit beside him on the bus.
Will we accept God's invitation to walk through this most holy week with Jesus? Will we dare to look into the face of Christ and risk seeing a reflection of our broken selves? Do we dare acknowledge those places where we harbor our most intense pain and shame? Will we open our hearts to the compassion of Christ and let him heal those festering sores; sores that are infected with resentment, hate and self-centeredness?
This Holy Week dare to look into the mirror eyes of Christ. Embrace the truth that stares back at us; for it is not only a reflection of our own hurt, sorrow and pain, but a reflection of Christ's redeeming love as well.
Saturday, April 4, 2009
Palm Monday Hangover?
Palm Monday. The donkey awakened, his mind still savoring the afterglow of the most exciting day of his life. Never before had he felt such a rush of pleasure and pride. He walked into town and found a group of people by the well. “I’ll show myself to them,” he thought.
But they didn’t notice him. They went on drawing their water and paid him no mind. “Throw your garments down,” he said crossly. “Don’t you know who I am?” They just looked at him as nothing more than a wandering mule. Then to add insult to injury, someone slapped him across the tail and ordered him to move. “Miserable heathens!” the donkey muttered to himself. “I’ll just go to the market. The good people there will remember me for sure!” But when the little donkey arrived in the busy Jerusalem market the same thing happened - no one (not a single person) paid him any attention. Then the donkey thought, “Oh yes, the palm branches! Where are the palm branches?! Yesterday, these people raised, waved and threw palm branches!” Hurt, baffled and confused, the donkey sulked and returned home to his mother. When she heard what had happened, she compassionately whispered to the little donkey, “Foolish child, don’t you realize that without Jesus, you are just an ordinary donkey?”
Today we are reminded that without Jesus to accompany us in this life, we are like the donkey in this (made up) metaphor; we too are simply misguided creatures, full of false hope and lofty expectations. We end up living superficial lives that seek nothing more than to live in moments of self-centered glory.
The people who crowded into the streets of Jerusalem in order to welcome Jesus into the city had worked themselves up into a frenzy; a frenzy driven by false hope and unrealistic, lofty expectations. Jesus was the Messiah. This was a triumphant military entry into the most holy city in the universe. The Christ would liberate these people from the burden of Roman oppression; the Christ would raise Israel up above her enemies in triumph; the Christ would bring down the reign of God, and Zion would flourish. Yet, as we shall see the Jewish leaders and people of Jerusalem set themselves up for a major disappointment.
Like our little donkey, Holy Monday (Palm Monday as the story called it) brought a completely different tone. Where were the mighty acts of this Messiah? Where were the angel and heavenly hosts? Where was their “self” prophesied liberation? Why were the Roman soldiers still occupying the city? Nothing had changed! Disappointment, discouragement and ultimately anger must have festered in the city streets of Jerusalem. I imagine each time a discarded palm branch came into view; it only served to stoke and ignite the angry disappointment of the Jewish people. To make matters worse, not only did Jesus not call down a heavenly army of liberators, Mark tells us that as quickly as he entered the city, he left. Jesus didn’t even make a sacrifice in the temple, address the people or challenge the Roman authorities. Jesus and his disciples go back outside the city to Bethany and retire for the night. Is Mark joking? All the hype and energetic build up and then – nothing? Ironically the very moment the crowds seem at last to recognize Jesus and eager to affirm his identity, Jesus decides to emphasize that he is not the kind of Davidic and liberating Messiah they expect. So Jesus and the twelve disciples simply left Jerusalem leaving nothing more than a (disillusioned) donkey to show he had been present.
Palm Sunday is a subtle reminder to each of us that it is often our own expectations (spoken or not) that get us into trouble and cut us off from God. Our perceptions of what we want God to do in this life often become the stumbling blocks that trip us up as we journey through this life. If only God would have saved that person from death; if only God had not allowed that criminal to commit such a heinous act; if only God had allowed me to avoid those painful experiences….(the list goes on and on).
We have all stood in the street and waived our palms at Jesus, expecting him to do for us those things that we desire or project on him. And we have all felt the bitter disappointment when those expectations go unmet. Yet God is not manipulated by our actions, nor tricked by our careful plans. Instead, God loves us despite the isolating and divisive nature of sin. God longs to be in communion with each and every one of us, and looks beyond our human shortsightedness to the eternal truth. And just what is that eternal truth? It is the fact that God’s nature is to draw all things to him. While sin ran amok in this world, unchecked and ramped, God’s task was not possible. But in Christ Jesus, that would change!
Like the label on the back of a bottle of salad dressing that says, Shake well before using - shaking is a part of God’s divine nature. God doesn't forewarn, he doesn't explain, sometimes he just shakes.God shook Job -- he lost everything.God shook Jonah -- the bottom dropped out of his plans.God shook the apostles -- the vibrations didn't stop until they reached heaven.Left unshaken, a bottle of salad dressing creates sour sediment like that at the bottom of a wine vat. The world had become stale, flat and sour because she was sedimentary, calcified, hardened. Through out the history of the world we witness God restore his people and nations by shaking them up. God doesn't shake just for the sake of shaking. There is a reason. The stuff of life is being rearranged, and people are going to be affected.
Therefore on the day we call Palm Sunday, God decided to radically shake things up in this world. God did the most unexpected and selfless act by sending Jesus as the living sacrifice that would restore the world to freedom. Through this jarring action - sin and death are defeated and the hope for all creation is restored. The eternal truth is - that our hope (yours and mine) is restored, and nothing (Absolutely Nothing) will separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus.
As we move forward into Holy Week and journey with Jesus to the cross, I ask each of us to prayerfully reflect:
What selfish expectations do we wave like palms in the air as we seek Christ?
What parts of our lives need to be shaken and jarred?
Are we like the donkey on “Palm Monday” blindly caught up in our own life needs and wants?
The journey that lies before us as we enter Holy Week is one that will take us ever deeper into the mystery of God. This is a journey that will shake our lives to their very core, shaking loose the sediments and calcified deposits of sin that weigh us down; the hardened film that cuts us off from God. Holy Week has begun; darkness falls; the light is dimmed; Christ has triumphantly entered Jerusalem (only) to quietly leave and prepare for the earth shattering darkness to come.
But they didn’t notice him. They went on drawing their water and paid him no mind. “Throw your garments down,” he said crossly. “Don’t you know who I am?” They just looked at him as nothing more than a wandering mule. Then to add insult to injury, someone slapped him across the tail and ordered him to move. “Miserable heathens!” the donkey muttered to himself. “I’ll just go to the market. The good people there will remember me for sure!” But when the little donkey arrived in the busy Jerusalem market the same thing happened - no one (not a single person) paid him any attention. Then the donkey thought, “Oh yes, the palm branches! Where are the palm branches?! Yesterday, these people raised, waved and threw palm branches!” Hurt, baffled and confused, the donkey sulked and returned home to his mother. When she heard what had happened, she compassionately whispered to the little donkey, “Foolish child, don’t you realize that without Jesus, you are just an ordinary donkey?”
Today we are reminded that without Jesus to accompany us in this life, we are like the donkey in this (made up) metaphor; we too are simply misguided creatures, full of false hope and lofty expectations. We end up living superficial lives that seek nothing more than to live in moments of self-centered glory.
The people who crowded into the streets of Jerusalem in order to welcome Jesus into the city had worked themselves up into a frenzy; a frenzy driven by false hope and unrealistic, lofty expectations. Jesus was the Messiah. This was a triumphant military entry into the most holy city in the universe. The Christ would liberate these people from the burden of Roman oppression; the Christ would raise Israel up above her enemies in triumph; the Christ would bring down the reign of God, and Zion would flourish. Yet, as we shall see the Jewish leaders and people of Jerusalem set themselves up for a major disappointment.
Like our little donkey, Holy Monday (Palm Monday as the story called it) brought a completely different tone. Where were the mighty acts of this Messiah? Where were the angel and heavenly hosts? Where was their “self” prophesied liberation? Why were the Roman soldiers still occupying the city? Nothing had changed! Disappointment, discouragement and ultimately anger must have festered in the city streets of Jerusalem. I imagine each time a discarded palm branch came into view; it only served to stoke and ignite the angry disappointment of the Jewish people. To make matters worse, not only did Jesus not call down a heavenly army of liberators, Mark tells us that as quickly as he entered the city, he left. Jesus didn’t even make a sacrifice in the temple, address the people or challenge the Roman authorities. Jesus and his disciples go back outside the city to Bethany and retire for the night. Is Mark joking? All the hype and energetic build up and then – nothing? Ironically the very moment the crowds seem at last to recognize Jesus and eager to affirm his identity, Jesus decides to emphasize that he is not the kind of Davidic and liberating Messiah they expect. So Jesus and the twelve disciples simply left Jerusalem leaving nothing more than a (disillusioned) donkey to show he had been present.
Palm Sunday is a subtle reminder to each of us that it is often our own expectations (spoken or not) that get us into trouble and cut us off from God. Our perceptions of what we want God to do in this life often become the stumbling blocks that trip us up as we journey through this life. If only God would have saved that person from death; if only God had not allowed that criminal to commit such a heinous act; if only God had allowed me to avoid those painful experiences….(the list goes on and on).
We have all stood in the street and waived our palms at Jesus, expecting him to do for us those things that we desire or project on him. And we have all felt the bitter disappointment when those expectations go unmet. Yet God is not manipulated by our actions, nor tricked by our careful plans. Instead, God loves us despite the isolating and divisive nature of sin. God longs to be in communion with each and every one of us, and looks beyond our human shortsightedness to the eternal truth. And just what is that eternal truth? It is the fact that God’s nature is to draw all things to him. While sin ran amok in this world, unchecked and ramped, God’s task was not possible. But in Christ Jesus, that would change!
Like the label on the back of a bottle of salad dressing that says, Shake well before using - shaking is a part of God’s divine nature. God doesn't forewarn, he doesn't explain, sometimes he just shakes.God shook Job -- he lost everything.God shook Jonah -- the bottom dropped out of his plans.God shook the apostles -- the vibrations didn't stop until they reached heaven.Left unshaken, a bottle of salad dressing creates sour sediment like that at the bottom of a wine vat. The world had become stale, flat and sour because she was sedimentary, calcified, hardened. Through out the history of the world we witness God restore his people and nations by shaking them up. God doesn't shake just for the sake of shaking. There is a reason. The stuff of life is being rearranged, and people are going to be affected.
Therefore on the day we call Palm Sunday, God decided to radically shake things up in this world. God did the most unexpected and selfless act by sending Jesus as the living sacrifice that would restore the world to freedom. Through this jarring action - sin and death are defeated and the hope for all creation is restored. The eternal truth is - that our hope (yours and mine) is restored, and nothing (Absolutely Nothing) will separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus.
As we move forward into Holy Week and journey with Jesus to the cross, I ask each of us to prayerfully reflect:
What selfish expectations do we wave like palms in the air as we seek Christ?
What parts of our lives need to be shaken and jarred?
Are we like the donkey on “Palm Monday” blindly caught up in our own life needs and wants?
The journey that lies before us as we enter Holy Week is one that will take us ever deeper into the mystery of God. This is a journey that will shake our lives to their very core, shaking loose the sediments and calcified deposits of sin that weigh us down; the hardened film that cuts us off from God. Holy Week has begun; darkness falls; the light is dimmed; Christ has triumphantly entered Jerusalem (only) to quietly leave and prepare for the earth shattering darkness to come.
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Go to Dark Gethsemane
Let go in faith and journey into the unknown. Easily said, much harder to do! The author of the Book of Hebrews tells us, “Faith is the substance of things hoped for and the assurance of things unseen.” In other words, faith is a means of letting go of all the “control issues” in our lives; those predetermined plans that we often interject or sneak into our prayers as we try to influence God to “just let things turn out my way!”
Throughout Scripture we witness God’s people do great things because of their willingness to step outside of themselves in faith. Abraham left behind all he knew and led his people into a new land, becoming the Father of all Nations. Moses answered God’s call and returned to Egypt to face Pharaoh, in order to free the Children of Israel from the bondage of sin and slavery. God’s prophets were driven (sometimes kicking and screaming) by faith to hold God’s people accountable when they strayed away from Yhweh. Countless Christians in the early church (as well as today) experienced intense persecution by governments and authorities because of their faithfulness to Christ. And finally, Jesus faithfully accepted his fate in the Garden of Gethsemane even though he prayed to the Father, “If it be your will please remove this cup from my lips, but thou will be done.”
As we prepare to embark on this journey with Christ and disciples through Holy Week, we find ourselves on a path that is most uncomfortable and often harsh. Like the disciples, it is easier to fall asleep, run and avoid the painful darkness of Holy Week. This is the time for Jesus’ passion and suffering; a faithful suffering that buys our freedom from the bondage of sin and death. All too often we go to sleep on Palm Sunday and awake on Easter morning. We miss the whole journey! In many ways we are no better than the faithless disciples who abandoned Christ in his most desperate hour. Faith is not comfortable. Faith is not easy. Faith is not an assurance that we will always get our way in life (thank goodness!). Faith requires us to stand, walk and trudge forward, even though life sometimes hurts and becomes very dark and grim. Faith is the grains of sand used to polish our armor of light (as Paul describes in his Letter to the Ephesians) so that our spirits burn brighter and more radiant despite the darkness of our age. Faith simply requires that we believe; believe in Christ Jesus’ unconditional love and the wholesome desire to do the next right thing no matter the cost.
During this most holy week of Christendom, as we prepare to undertake this difficult journey of faith with Jesus, one that will lead us right through the painful abandonment of the cross; it is my most fervent prayer that we find the courage to believe in God’s redeeming grace and love. Dear Father I believe! Help my unbelief!
Throughout Scripture we witness God’s people do great things because of their willingness to step outside of themselves in faith. Abraham left behind all he knew and led his people into a new land, becoming the Father of all Nations. Moses answered God’s call and returned to Egypt to face Pharaoh, in order to free the Children of Israel from the bondage of sin and slavery. God’s prophets were driven (sometimes kicking and screaming) by faith to hold God’s people accountable when they strayed away from Yhweh. Countless Christians in the early church (as well as today) experienced intense persecution by governments and authorities because of their faithfulness to Christ. And finally, Jesus faithfully accepted his fate in the Garden of Gethsemane even though he prayed to the Father, “If it be your will please remove this cup from my lips, but thou will be done.”
As we prepare to embark on this journey with Christ and disciples through Holy Week, we find ourselves on a path that is most uncomfortable and often harsh. Like the disciples, it is easier to fall asleep, run and avoid the painful darkness of Holy Week. This is the time for Jesus’ passion and suffering; a faithful suffering that buys our freedom from the bondage of sin and death. All too often we go to sleep on Palm Sunday and awake on Easter morning. We miss the whole journey! In many ways we are no better than the faithless disciples who abandoned Christ in his most desperate hour. Faith is not comfortable. Faith is not easy. Faith is not an assurance that we will always get our way in life (thank goodness!). Faith requires us to stand, walk and trudge forward, even though life sometimes hurts and becomes very dark and grim. Faith is the grains of sand used to polish our armor of light (as Paul describes in his Letter to the Ephesians) so that our spirits burn brighter and more radiant despite the darkness of our age. Faith simply requires that we believe; believe in Christ Jesus’ unconditional love and the wholesome desire to do the next right thing no matter the cost.
During this most holy week of Christendom, as we prepare to undertake this difficult journey of faith with Jesus, one that will lead us right through the painful abandonment of the cross; it is my most fervent prayer that we find the courage to believe in God’s redeeming grace and love. Dear Father I believe! Help my unbelief!
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