Passion Sunday, March 29, 2015

Mark 11:1-11

When they were approaching Jerusalem, at Bethphage and Bethany, near the Mount of Olives, Jesus sent two of his disciples and said to them, "Go into the village ahead of you, and immediately as you enter it, you will find tied there a colt that has never been ridden; untie it and bring it. If anyone says to you, `Why are you doing this?' just say this, `The Lord needs it and will send it back here immediately.'" They went away and found a colt tied near a door, outside in the street. As they were untying it, some of the bystanders said to them, "What are you doing, untying the colt?" They told them what Jesus had said; and they allowed them to take it. Then they brought the colt to Jesus and threw their cloaks on it; and he sat on it. Many people spread their cloaks on the road, and others spread leafy branches that they had cut in the fields. Then those who went ahead and those who followed were shouting,
              Hosanna!
              Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord!
              Blessed is the coming kingdom of our ancestor David!
              Hosanna in the highest heaven!"
Then he entered Jerusalem and went into the temple; and when he had looked around at everything, as it was already late, he went out to Bethany with the twelve.  

Blessing of the Palms

It is right to praise you, Almighty God, for the acts of love by which you have redeemed us through your Son Jesus Christ our Lord. On this day he entered the holy city of Jerusalem in triumph, and was proclaimed as King of kings by those who spread their garments and branches of palm along his way. Let these branches be for us signs of his victory, and grant that we who bear them in his name may ever hail him as our King,
and follow him in the way that leads to eternal life; who lives and reigns in glory with you and the Holy Spirit, now and for ever. Amen. 

Reflections: The painful irony of this service is the way it begins in jubilation and ends in  betrayal.

          I hope I am not alone in not knowing that two processions entered Jerusalem the day Jesus rode in to waving palm branches and fanfare. His was a procession of “peasants,” Biblical scholars John Dominic Crossan and Marcus Borg, and it proclaimed the Kingdom of God.

At the other end of the city, another procession entered the gates, a procession of the strong: Pontius Pilate, accompanied by cavalry and soldiers. This procession, in honor of imperial power, however, has fallen into obscurity. Who would have guessed that the enduring power rested in poverty and humility, and not in armaments, status, and an economy of scale? Naturally, as Christians, we choose Christ's procession. Or like to think we would have; but in our everyday life, which procession do we continually find ourselves joining?

 

Prayer before Entering the Church Doors

Almighty God, whose most dear Son went not up to joy but first he suffered pain, and entered not into glory before he was crucified: Mercifully grant that we, walking in the way of the cross, may find it none other than the way of life and peace; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen. 

Liturgy of the Word

Collect: Almighty and everliving God, in your tender love for the human race you sent your Son our Savior Jesus Christ to take upon him our nature, and to suffer death upon the cross, giving us the example of his great humility: Mercifully grant that we may walk in the way of his suffering, and also share in his resurrection; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

Reflections: What does it mean to “walk in the way of his suffering”?

First, Lesson: Isaiah 50:4-9a

The Lord GOD has given me the tongue of a eacher, that I may know how to sustain the weary with a word. Morning by morning he wakens-- wakens my ear to listen as those who are taught. The Lord GOD has opened my ear, and I was not rebellious, I did not turn backward. I gave my back to those who struck me, and my cheeks to those who pulled out the beard; I did not hide my face from insult and spitting.

     The Lord GOD helps me; therefore I have not been disgraced; therefore I have set my face like flint, and I know that I shall not be put to shame; he who vindicates me is near.

Who will contend with me? Let us stand up together.
Who are my adversaries? Let them confront me.
It is the Lord GOD who helps me; who will declare me guilty?  

Reflections: “Who will contend with me?” Is he kidding? Anyone and everyone. The entire passage is a graphic description of contention! And yet, the speaker has not been shamed, has not been disgraced or defeated.  As St Paul will say many centuries later, “Nothing can separate me from the love of God.” 

Psalm 50:4-9

He calls the heavens and the earth from above * to witness the judgment of his people.

"Gather before me my loyal followers, * those who have made a covenant with me and sealed it with sacrifice."

Let the heavens declare the rightness of his cause; * for God himself is judge.

Hear, O my people, and I will speak: "O Israel, I will bear witness against you; * for I am God, your God.

I do not accuse you because of your sacrifices; * your offerings are always before me.

I will take no bull-calf from your stalls, * nor he-goats out of your pens;

Epistle: Philippians 2:5-11

Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness. And being found in human form, he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death-- even death on a cross.

Therefore God also highly exalted him and gave him the name that is above every name, so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bend, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father. 

 

Reflections: In this lyrical passage from Philippians we see what it is to be God: not to grasp at power, but to pour oneself out. Jesus didn’t win glory because he emptied himself, but he poured himself out because his very nature was glory. And this is what Paul calls forth from us, as well.

Gospel: Mark 15:1-39

As soon as it was morning, the chief priests held a consultation with the elders and scribes and the whole council. They bound Jesus, led him away, and handed him over to Pilate. Pilate asked him, "Are you the King of the Jews?" He answered him, "You say so." Then the chief priests accused him of many things. Pilate asked him again, "Have you no answer? See how many charges they bring against you." But Jesus made no further reply, so that Pilate was amazed.

Now at the festival he used to release a prisoner for them, anyone for whom they asked. Now a man called Barabbas was in prison with the rebels who had committed murder during the insurrection. So the crowd came and began to ask Pilate to do for them according to his custom. Then he answered them, "Do you want me to release for you the King of the Jews?" For he realized that it was out of jealousy that the chief priests had handed him over. But the chief priests stirred up the crowd to have him release Barabbas for them instead. Pilate spoke to them again, "Then what do you wish me to do with the man you call the King of the Jews?" They shouted back, "Crucify him!" Pilate asked them, "Why, what evil has he done?" But they shouted all the more, "Crucify him!" So Pilate, wishing to satisfy the crowd, released Barabbas for them; and after flogging Jesus, he handed him over to be crucified.

Then the soldiers led him into the courtyard of the palace (that is, the governor's headquarters); and they called together the whole cohort. And they clothed him in a purple cloak; and after twisting some thorns into a crown, they put it on him. And they began saluting him, "Hail, King of the Jews!" They struck his head with a reed, spat upon him, and knelt down in homage to him. After mocking him, they stripped him of the purple cloak and put his own clothes on him. Then they led him out to crucify him.

They compelled a passer-by, who was coming in from the country, to carry his cross; it was Simon of Cyrene, the father of Alexander and Rufus. Then they brought Jesus to the place called Golgotha (which means the place of a skull). And they offered him wine mixed with myrrh; but he did not take it. And they crucified him, and divided his clothes among them, casting lots to decide what each should take.

It was nine o'clock in the morning when they crucified him. The inscription of the charge against him read, "The King of the Jews." And with him they crucified two bandits, one on his right and one on his left. Those who passed by derided him, shaking their heads and saying, "Aha! You who would destroy the temple and build it in three days, save yourself, and come down from the cross!" In the same way the chief priests, along with the scribes, were also mocking him among themselves and saying, "He saved others; he cannot save himself. Let the Messiah, the King of Israel, come down from the cross now, so that we may see and believe." Those who were crucified with him also taunted him.

         When it was noon, darkness came over the whole land until three in the afternoon. At three o'clock Jesus cried out with a loud voice, Eloi, Eloi, lema sabachthani? which means, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" When some of the bystanders heard it, they said, "Listen, he is calling for Elijah." And someone ran, filled a sponge with sour wine, put it on a stick, and gave it to him to drink, saying, "Wait, let us see whether Elijah will come to take him down." Then Jesus gave a loud cry and breathed his last. And the curtain of the temple was torn in two, from top to bottom. Now when the centurion, who stood facing him, saw that in this way he breathed his last, he said, "Truly this man was God's Son!"

Reflections: What did the centurion see?

5th Sunday in Lent, March 22, 3015

Collect for the Day

Almighty God, you alone can bring into order the unruly wills and affections of sinners: Grant your people grace to love what you command and desire what you promise; that, among the swift and varied changes of the world, our hearts may surely there be fixed where true joys are to be found; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen. 

Reflections: It’s not just that I’m getting older is it:  the world really is changing faster and faster, and increasingly crowding us with things and activities to distract and fascinate. How do we select what deserves our attention? How can we know what is of enduring value? And even if we do know, how can we choose it relying on our own discernment and strength alone?  

First Lesson: Jeremiah 31:31-34

The days are surely coming, says the LORD, when I will make a new covenant with the house of Israel and the house of Judah. It will not be like the covenant that I made with their ancestors when I took them by the hand to bring them out of the land of Egypt-- a covenant that they broke, though I was their husband, says the LORD. But this is the covenant that I will make with the house of Israel after those days, says the LORD: I will put my law within them, and I will write it on their hearts; and I will be their God, and they shall be my people. No longer shall they teach one another, or say to each other, "Know the LORD," for they shall all know me, from the least of them to the greatest, says the LORD; for I will forgive their iniquity, and remember their sin no more. 

Reflections: This is surely one of my (many) favorite passages from Jeremiah (7^th century BCE). What about you?

          In times past, says Jeremiah, God’s relationship to Israel was like a husband to a wife. That’s an imaged used by the earlier prophet Hosea about a century earlier. But even in Jeremiah’s times, the comparison was astonishingly intimate.

But Israel (like us) was repeatedly unfaithful. More unfaithful than not, in fact. The Bible records that Israel interpreted repeated experiences of punishment and a sense of divine abandonment as God’s response to her faithlessness. But even so, like a loving spouse God continued to yearn and agonize over beloved Israel.

Through Jeremiah, God promises not further threats of punishment or abandonment, but an even closer intimacy. A new depth of relationship once again initiated and carried out by God.

Close as one person can be to another, deeply as we may love someone, we remain separated. Our hearts may beat as one, but we remain separated by space. This must be one of the greatest sources of suffering: we cannot be in complete union with our beloved.

And yet, this is precisely what God promises through Jeremiah. God is not external to us, watching us from somewhere “out there.” God closer to us than we are to ourselves. God is, as it says in the Koran, “closer than our own jugular vein.”

          In place of knowledge about God, which comes to us from other sources, God promises knowledge of God: direct, experiential knowledge.

          But here’s a question: is Jeremiah’s prophecy for all God’s people, or only for the future God’s people who would come to know God through Jesus? 

Psalm 51:1-13  Miserere mei, Deus

Have mercy on me, O God, according to your loving-kindness; * in your great compassion blot out my offenses.

Wash me through and through from my wickedness * and cleanse me from my sin.

For I know my transgressions, * and my sin is ever before me.

Against you only have I sinned * and done what is evil in your sight.

And so you are justified when you speak * and upright in your judgment.

Indeed, I have been wicked from my birth, * a sinner from my mother's womb.

For behold, you look for truth deep within me, * and will make me understand wisdom secretly.

Purge me from my sin, and I shall be pure; * wash me, and I shall be clean indeed.

Make me hear of joy and gladness, * that the body you have broken may rejoice.

Hide your face from my sins * and blot out all my iniquities.

Create in me a clean heart, O God, * and renew a right spirit within me.

Cast me not away from your presence * and take not your Holy Spirit from me.

Give me the joy of your saving help again * and sustain me with your bountiful Spirit.  

Reflections: This is the best loved of the penitential psalms. Throughout Christian history, this psalm has been prayed by the church in liturgy, in daily and weekly personal and monastic prayer, and is particularly associated with the Sacrament of Reconciliation, and with Lent. As you may know, a psalm “title” is the Latin rendering of the first line. That is, “Miserere me, Deus” means “Have mercy on me, O God.” Similarly in English, we refer to the Lord’s Prayer as the “Our Father,” or we recite the “Hail Mary.” 

Epistle: Hebrews 5:5-10

Christ did not glorify himself in becoming a high priest, but was appointed by the one who said to him,

You are my Son,

today I have begotten you;

as he says also in another place,

You are a priest forever,

according to the order of Melchizedek.

In the days of his flesh, Jesus offered up prayers and supplications, with loud cries and tears, to the one who was able to save him from death, and he was heard because of his reverent submission. Although he was a Son, he learned obedience through what he suffered; and having been made perfect, he became the source of eternal salvation for all who obey him, having been designated by God a high priest according to the order of Melchizedek. 

Reflections: Jesus Christ was not elevated because it was his “right” as the Son of God. He did not grasp what was his to claim. Instead, God elevated him because of his humility.

Now, the world—or at least this culture—doesn’t work that way. Modesty doesn’t usually get you the job. Self-assertion seems to be the way to get what we want or deserve. It is a fine line between assertiveness and aggressiveness, between appropriate self esteem and self-centeredness; in a culture like ours finding the balance can be difficult—and we are always at risk of ending up with the short end of the sick.

This passage tells us that it doesn’t work that way with God. God sees in secret—not only what we do anonymously, but the thoughts and motives hidden in our hearts.

The Son, it says, was “made perfect” by suffering. It’s important that we don’t take this to mean that Jesus did everything perfectly, or that suffering made him perfect. The past participle, “perfected,” suggests instead “completed,” just as bread that has been baked is finished, complete, whole. Jesus courageously accepted suffering, trusting in the God who saves from—but may not prevent—death.

Whereas the sacrificial lamb in Hebrew tradition is “without blemish,” Jesus is scarred by his suffering. His wounds are not erased, but in the Resurrection they are transfigured and redemptive: He is the “Wounded Healer.” 

Gospel: John 12:20-33

Now among those who went up to worship at the festival were some Greeks. They came to Philip, who was from Bethsaida in Galilee, and said to him, "Sir, we wish to see Jesus." Philip went and told Andrew; then Andrew and Philip went and told Jesus. Jesus answered them, "The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified. Very truly, I tell you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain; but if it dies, it bears much fruit. Those who love their life lose it, and those who hate their life in this world will keep it for eternal life. Whoever serves me must follow me, and where I am, there will my servant be also. Whoever serves me, the Father will honor.

"Now my soul is troubled. And what should I say-- `Father, save me from this hour'? No, it is for this reason that I have come to this hour. Father, glorify your name." Then a voice came from heaven, "I have glorified it, and I will glorify it again." The crowd standing there heard it and said that it was thunder. Others said, "An angel has spoken to him." Jesus answered, "This voice has come for your sake, not for mine. Now is the judgment of this world; now the ruler of this world will be driven out. And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself." He said this to indicate the kind of death he was to die.

Reflections:  Just before this passage, Jesus has entered Jerusalem to much acclaim. The Pharisees and officials feel helpless against his popularity: The Pharisees complained, ‘You see, you can do nothing. Look, the world has gone after him!’” Almost in demonstration, our gospel reading immediately follows: Now among those who went up to worship at the festival were some Greeks. [They] said . . . , "Sir, we wish to see Jesus." The Pharisees clearly feel uncomfortable, perhaps even threatened. Not only is Jesus and his followers a problem, but as we see, he attracting gentiles—outsiders—as well.

          How does Jesus respond to the gentiles? We probably expect him to welcome them and launch into a discourse (like he does on almost every other occasion in the Fourth Gospel). Instead, he muses about the necessity of dying to bear fruit, losing life to find it, finding the highest honor in service. What’s the connection?

          Could Jesus be addressing our tendency to stick tight to people who are like us, and to (label and) resist “outsiders”? In what ways does our sense of identity stand between us and the Christ we seek to serve? What part of us is threatened is it by unfamiliar people and circumstances?

Does Jesus hide or deny his fears? How does he ultimately respond?

4th Sunday in Lent, March 15, 2015

Collect for the Day

Gracious Father, whose blessed Son Jesus Christ came down from heaven to be the true bread which gives life to the world: Evermore give us this bread, that he may live in us, and we in him; who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, now and forever. Amen. 

Reflections: The phrase “evermore give us this bread”—like so much of the Book of Common Prayer—is taken from scriptures. It is found in John 6, in the discourse that follows the feeding of the five thousand.  The phrase also echoes the words of the Samaritan Woman who asks Jesus, “Sir, give me this water, so that I may never be thirsty or have to keep coming here to draw water.”

          It is difficult to remain focused on the nourishment that truly nourishes and satisfies. We are buffeted about by continual and often conflicting desires, but ultimately we find that our yearning is satisfied only in Christ. 

First Lesson: Numbers 21:4-9

From Mount Horeb the Israelites set out by the way to the Red Sea, to go around the land of Edom; but the people became impatient on the way. The people spoke against God and against Moses, "Why have you brought us up out of Egypt to die in the wilderness? For there is no food and no water, and we detest this miserable food." Then the LORD sent poisonous serpents among the people, and they bit the people, so that many Israelites died. The people came to Moses and said, "We have sinned by speaking against the LORD and against you; pray to the LORD to take away the serpents from us." So Moses prayed for the people. And the LORD said to Moses, "Make a poisonous serpent, and set it on a pole; and everyone who is bitten shall look at it and live." So Moses made a serpent of bronze, and put it upon a pole; and whenever a serpent bit someone, that person would look at the serpent of bronze and live.

Reflection: First, I’d like to note the issue of dissatisfaction and grumbling. Like the Hebrew Bible, The Rule of St. Benedict comes down hard on murmuring. It cultivates the seeds of dissention and dissatisfaction in our hearts and undermines community life. Moreover, grumbling is a great way to avoid dealing directly with problems.

           But I’d really like to address the story itself. It can—and has been—interpreted in a variety of ways. We shouldn’t be surprised at that. It is, quite frankly, bizarre, and therefore begs for special attention.

One the one hand, we could read the plague of serpents as God’s punishment for the people’s complaints. Or similarly, the snakes can be seen as a symbol of the poisonous energy unleashed by murmuring. Either way, the message is clear: moaning dissatisfaction is unholy and destructive.

          On the other hand, this peculiar tale may also have roots in an equally bizarre history. According to the story, God is responsible for sending the poisonous snakes among the people (which should be difficult enough to accept). And if that’s not strange enough, God (who prohibits images) commands the people to make an image, raise it up, and gaze on it—which will bring healing (a divine function). Sound a bit like the golden calf in reverse?

Well, the Bible itself tells us that snake worship had been practiced among the Israelites, and that God disapproved. In fact, in II Kings 18:4 King Hezekiah follows the will of God in smashing that very same serpent image Moses had made. In one place God commands the people to bow to a bronze serpent, but later has it destroyed. In other words, the biblical accounts appear to conflict.

Consequently, the story disturbs us, and has disturbed the Jewish people before us, as well. One way the Jewish tradition has dealt with it is found in the Mishnah (the first written collection of oral teachings). It states that God didn’t actually order the people to venerate the image of the serpent, but to look up toward God’s dwelling in heaven. That is, the Mishnah spiritualizes the account—looks for a deeper meaning consistent with the character of God.

          We Christians also spiritualize it. But for us, the raising up of a salvific figure is an anticipation of Christ.  

Psalm 107:1-3, 17-22 Confitemini Domino

Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good,* and his mercy endures for ever.

Let all those whom the Lord has redeemed proclaim * that he redeemed them from the hand of the foe.
He gathered them out of the lands;* from the east and from the west, from the north and from the south.
.  .  .  .  .
Some were fools and took to rebellious ways;* they were afflicted because of their sins.
They abhorred all manner of food * and drew near to death’s door.
Then they cried to the Lord in their trouble,* and he delivered them from their distress.
He sent forth his word and healed them * and saved them from the grave.
Let them give thanks to the Lord for his mercy * and the wonders he does for his children.
Let them offer a sacrifice of thanksgiving * and tell of his acts with shouts of joy. 

Epistle: Ephesians 2:1-10

You were dead through the trespasses and sins in which you once lived, following the course of this world, following the ruler of the power of the air, the spirit that is now at work among those who are disobedient. All of us once lived among them in the passions of our flesh, following the desires of flesh and senses, and we were by nature children of wrath, like everyone else. God, who is rich in mercy, out of the great love with which he loved us even when we were dead through our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ—by grace you have been saved—and raised us up with him and seated us with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, so that in the ages to come he might show the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus. For by grace you have been saved through faith, and this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God—not the result of works, so that no one may boast. For we are what he has made us, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand to be our way of life.

Reflections: "We were by nature children of wrath” has always struck me as meaning “deserving God’s wrath,” and that may have been what St. Paul meant. However the first reading suggests something about us, our nature. We humans seem to be naturally frustrated; complainers, fault-finders, murmurers. In other words, full of anger, wrath.

          Even so, not because of our own deserving—but despite the fact that we are malcontent by default—God is merciful; God loves us and has loved us. Salvation comes not because we may be in a good mood, or may have learned to hold our tongues and keep our thoughts to ourselves. And salvation certainly doesn’t mean we get our way (betrayal and crucifixion weren’t Jesus’ choice).

No, it is despite us—our rotten attitudes, our impatient behavior, our grudging civility—despite these things, God draws us close in love.  

Gospel: John 3:14-21

Jesus said to Nicodemus, Just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whoever believes in him may have eternal life. For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.

Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him. Those who believe in him are not condemned; but those who do not believe are condemned already, because they have not believed in the name of the only Son of God. And this is the judgment, that the light has come into the world, and people loved darkness rather than light because their deeds were evil. For all who do evil hate the light and do not come to the light, so that their deeds may not be exposed. But those who do what is true come to the light, so that it may be clearly seen that their deeds have been done in God." 

Reflections: The context for Jesus’ discourse here is the Pharisee Nicodemus’ secret visit to Jesus under cover of night. (So, not all Pharisees were alike. Just imagine the courage it would have taken to act against the judgments and opinions of one’s peers, even in secret.)

          Is it a coincidence that Jesus speaks of doing things in the dark when Nicodemus has come to him at night? Is Jesus’ reference to “night” about external darkness only? How about the darkness within?

          To what extent is evil the product of deliberate choice? And how much is it due to the lack of illumination?

3rd Sunday in Lent, March 8, 2015

Collect for the Day

Almighty God, you know that we have no power in ourselves to help ourselves: Keep us both outwardly in our bodies and inwardly in our souls, that we may be defended from all adversities which may happen to the body, and from all evil thoughts which may assault and hurt the soul; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

Reflections: When I was a kid, I didn’t really believe in crash test dummies—my body wouldn’t really bounce around like that! I had never experienced my body completely out of control . . . until I got knocked upside-down by a wave one day when I was out alone in the ocean. (No, of course my parents hadn’t allowed me to go alone. Afterwards, I understood why.) Under water, unable to tell which way was up, I discovered my powerlessness (and even though I continued to disobey now and then, I never ever went into the ocean again alone).

While we may not yet believe—at a deep level—that “we have no power in ourselves to help ourselves,” those words do speak to a reality we will inevitably experience someday. Until we have experienced it ourselves, we can only trust the witness of those who have. People in recover understand; they refer to it as “hitting bottom.” Although devastating, powerlessness can also be a door to life, an invitation to a visceral knowledge of the God whom we otherwise may only know about. 

First Lesson: Exodus 20:1-17

Then God spoke all these words: I am the LORD your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery; you shall have no other gods before me.

You shall not make for yourself an idol, whether in the form of anything that is in heaven above, or that is on the earth beneath, or that is in the water under the earth. You shall not bow down to them or worship them; for I the LORD your God am a jealous God, punishing children for the iniquity of parents, to the third and the fourth generation of those who reject me, but showing steadfast love to the thousandth generation of those who love me and keep my commandments.

You shall not make wrongful use of the name of the LORD your God, for the LORD will not acquit anyone who misuses his name.

Remember the sabbath day, and keep it holy. Six days you shall labor and do all your work. But the seventh day is a sabbath to the LORD your God; you shall not do any work-- you, your son or your daughter, your male or female slave, your livestock, or the alien resident in your towns. For in six days the LORD made heaven and earth, the sea, and all that is in them, but rested the seventh day; therefore the LORD blessed the sabbath day and consecrated it.

Honor your father and your mother, so that your days may be long in the land that the LORD your God is giving you.

You shall not murder.

You shall not commit adultery.

You shall not steal.

You shall not bear false witness against your neighbor.

You shall not covet your neighbor's house; you shall not covet your neighbor's wife, or male or female slave, or ox, or donkey, or anything that belongs to your neighbor.

Reflections: The 10 Commandments! Actually, “the Law” is more than this list. It is comprised by the Torah—the first five books of the Hebrew Bible. The Torah gives us a total of 614 precepts! Who can remember so many? When we think carefully about them, though, we realize that they are all attempts to apply these 10 principles to the circumstances of everyday life. On the other hand, as Jesus points out, they can be simplified to two principles: love God with your whole being, and love your neighbor as your self.

Psalm 19 Caeli enarrant

The heavens declare the glory of God, * and the firmament shows his handiwork.

One day tells its tale to another, * and one night imparts knowledge to another.

Although they have no words or language, * and their voices are not heard,  

Their sound has gone out into all lands, * and their message to the ends of the world.

In the deep has he set a pavilion for the sun; *

it comes forth like a bridegroom out of his chamber; it rejoices like a champion to run its course.

It goes forth from the uttermost edge of the heavens and runs about to the end of it again; * 

    nothing is hidden from its burning heat.

The law of the LORD is perfect and revives the soul; *
the testimony of the LORD is sure and gives wisdom to the innocent. 

The statutes of the LORD are just and rejoice the heart; *
the commandment of the LORD is clear and gives light to the eyes.

The fear of the LORD is clean and endures for ever; *
the judgments of the LORD are true and righteous altogether.

More to be desired are they than gold, more than much fine gold, *
sweeter far than honey, than honey in the comb.

By them also is your servant enlightened, * and in keeping them there is great reward.

Who can tell how often he offends? * cleanse me from my secret faults.

Above all, keep your servant from presumptuous sins;let them not get dominion over me; *

then shall I be whole and sound, and innocent of a great offense.

Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in your sight, *
O LORD, my strength and my redeemer.

Reflections: Over the millennia, we Christians have put a lot of thought into sin and virtue. At times, it has been a preoccupation, and we have run the risk of becoming like the Pharisee who stood in the temple and counted his virtues, while the publican stood far to the back could only ask for mercy.

It is easy to identify the sins of the publican because they are obvious. But the faults of the Pharisee are hidden. In fact, the “secret faults” of the Pharisee are his virtues. It is his virtues that blind him to sin, give him self-satisfaction, and move him judge the publican. No wonder the psalmist prays to be cleansed from “presumptuous sins.”

What if the sins that matter most are those we don’t want to know, those that we avoid knowing? Dare we see them? They are already seen by God—and can be healed only by God.

Epistle: 1 Corinthians 1:18-25

The message about the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God. For it is written, “I will destroy the wisdom of the wise,
and the discernment of the discerning I will thwart.”

Where is the one who is wise? Where is the scribe? Where is the debater of this age? Has not God made foolish the wisdom of the world? For since, in the wisdom of God, the world did not know God through wisdom, God decided, through the foolishness of our proclamation, to save those who believe. For Jews demand signs and Greeks desire wisdom, but we proclaim Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles, but to those who are the called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God. For God's foolishness is wiser than human wisdom, and God's weakness is stronger than human strength.

Reflections: Salvation, says St. Paul, is an ongoing process. More: it is mysterious. Like the Pharisee in the temple, we do our best to live by the principles we consider right. Salvation, however, may come from the direction we aren’t looking, announced by a prophetic voice we don’t respect.

          A dear high school friend recently lost his mother. She was a gifted song writer and performer. She was creative and spontaneous. But she had a rare spirit that didn’t fit into a middle class mould; she couldn’t “get organized” or fit a system or settle into a routine. She was a hoarder. Someone connected to the family once referred to her as a “useless mother.”

          True, her house wasn’t tidy; she didn’t cook (or iron). But her home was filled with song and stories: She freely gave the gifts she did have: creativity, energy, and love. As both a teenager and an adult, I found in her a kind word, an extended hand, and a compassionate ear. Moreover, her children have grown into “normal,” responsible and compassionate, and creative parents.

“Useless” mother? I wonder what criteria really matter. What gifts that I dismiss as “foolish” really count? And what obvious virtues ultimately have no particular value?

John 2:13-22

The Passover of the Jews was near, and Jesus went up to Jerusalem. In the temple he found people selling cattle, sheep, and doves, and the money changers seated at their tables. Making a whip of cords, he drove all of them out of the temple, both the sheep and the cattle. He also poured out the coins of the money changers and overturned their tables. He told those who were selling the doves, "Take these things out of here! Stop making my Father's house a marketplace!" His disciples remembered that it was written, "Zeal for your house will consume me." The Jews then said to him, "What sign can you show us for doing this?" Jesus answered them, "Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up." The Jews then said, "This temple has been under construction for forty-six years, and will you raise it up in three days?" But he was speaking of the temple of his body. After he was raised from the dead, his disciples remembered that he had said this; and they believed the scripture and the word that Jesus had spoken.

Reflections: We are horrified when the status quo is upset. Jesus disrespects the whole religious system. Yet Jesus does this to cleanse the religion of his day.

Here in the middle of Lent, heading towards Christ’s triumphant entry into Jerusalem and his subsequent betrayal and execution, what does the Johannine account of the Cleansing say to us?

First, it seems to me that Jesus rejects the human tendency to commodify aspects of our lives. And we are tempted to “thingify” human beings, as well, especially those who don’t belong to our circle. This is clearly wrong; but it is not “wrong” to treat God the same way: it is impossible. The sacred is sui generis cannot be commodified. And whatever we can commodify isn’t God.

The people don’t understand Jesus’ behavior, and they don’t understand his explanation, either. It is only the disciples—those who walk with him through his ministry and through his passion—who come to understand (and then only in hindsight).

The good news for us is that even when life is at its worst, there is meaning. Life is not absurd. We may doubt there is any meaning; we may even doubt there is any god. Like Jacob, perhaps, we lie awake and wrestle through the night. Especially when life seems least holy, the struggle we are engaged in is sacred.

Sanctification is a process; we walk through a dark valley, and maybe it’s a long valley. But one day, like the disciples, we will find that a new perspective has emerged that gives meaning even to the worst of our lives. We will remember; we will re-member.

2nd Sunday in Lent, March 1, 2015

Collect for the Day

O God, whose glory it is always to have mercy: Be gracious to all who have gone astray from your ways, and bring them again with penitent hearts and steadfast faith to embrace and hold fast the unchangeable truth of your Word, Jesus Christ your Son; who with you and the Holy Spirit lives and reigns, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.
 

First Lesson: Genesis 17:1-7, 15-16

When Abram was ninety-nine years old, the LORD appeared to Abram, and said to him, "I am God Almighty; walk before me, and be blameless. And I will make my covenant between me and you, and will make you exceedingly numerous." Then Abram fell on his face; and God said to him, "As for me, this is my covenant with you: You shall be the ancestor of a multitude of nations. No longer shall your name be Abram, but your name shall be Abraham; for I have made you the ancestor of a multitude of nations. I will make you exceedingly fruitful; and I will make nations of you, and kings shall come from you. I will establish my covenant between me and you, and your offspring after you throughout their generations, for an everlasting covenant, to be God to you and to your offspring after you."

God said to Abraham, "As for Sarai your wife, you shall not call her Sarai, but Sarah shall be her name. I will bless her, and moreover I will give you a son by her. I will bless her, and she shall give rise to nations; kings of peoples shall come from her."

Reflection: I’d say that this is about the conversion of a (very) old man set in his ways . . . but I’d be dead wrong. We know about Abraham’s life, that he left everything he knew to follow God’s (very) vague directions into an unknown future. In light of his story, we know him as a man who has led a life as close to God as would seem possible. Yet God invites him closer still.

          The further transformation of Abraham—signified by his new name—ripples out, affecting the people close to him. Sarai also finds a new destiny and a new identity. Nor does the transformative energy stop there; it reaches generations—thousands of years, as we can attest—into the future.

          Sometimes we think sanctity is a private affair, between oneself and God. But it’s more than that. We are not alienated from each other and the universe, but threads in the complex tapestry of creation. As priest and poet John Donne wrote,

No man is an island,
Entire of itself,
Every man is a piece of the continent,
A part of the main.
If a clod be washed away by the sea,
Europe is the less.
As well as if a promontory were.
As well as if a manor of thy friend's
Or of thine own were:
Any man's death diminishes me,
Because I am involved in mankind,
And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls;
It tolls for thee.

Psalm 22:22-30 Deus, Deus meus

Praise the LORD, you that fear him; * stand in awe of him, O offspring of Israel; all you of Jacob's line, give glory.
For he does not despise nor abhor the poor in their poverty; neither does he hide his face from them; * 

     but when they cry to him he hears them.

My praise is of him in the great assembly; * I will perform my vows in the presence of those who worship him.
The poor shall eat and be satisfied, and those who seek the LORD shall praise him: * "May your heart live for ever!"

All the ends of the earth shall remember and turn to the LORD, * and all the families of the nations shall bow before him.

For kingship belongs to the LORD; * he rules over the nations.
To him alone all who sleep in the earth bow down in worship; * all who go down to the dust fall before him.

My soul shall live for him; my descendants shall serve him; * they shall be known as the LORD'S for ever.

They shall come and make known to a people yet unborn * the saving deeds that he has done.
 

Epistle: Romans 4:13-25

The promise that he would inherit the world did not come to Abraham or to his descendants through the law but through the righteousness of faith. If it is the adherents of the law who are to be the heirs, faith is null and the promise is void. For the law brings wrath; but where there is no law, neither is there violation.

For this reason it depends on faith, in order that the promise may rest on grace and be guaranteed to all his descendants, not only to the adherents of the law but also to those who share the faith of Abraham (for he is the father of all of us, as it is written, "I have made you the father of many nations") -- in the presence of the God in whom he believed, who gives life to the dead and calls into existence the things that do not exist. Hoping against hope, he believed that he would become "the father of many nations," according to what was said, "So numerous shall your descendants be." He did not weaken in faith when he considered his own body, which was already as good as dead (for he was about a hundred years old), or when he considered the barrenness of Sarah's womb. No distrust made him waver concerning the promise of God, but he grew strong in his faith as he gave glory to God, being fully convinced that God was able to do what he had promised. Therefore his faith "was reckoned to him as righteousness." Now the words, "it was reckoned to him," were written not for his sake alone, but for ours also. It will be reckoned to us who believe in him who raised Jesus our Lord from the dead, who was handed over to death for our trespasses and was raised for our justification.  

Reflections: Martin Luther’s “faith alone” theology finds strong support in this passage. In his losing struggle to fight his sinfulness and to gain the assurance of salvation, Luther received the revelation that salvation was not something any degree of effort could win him. Salvation simply wasn’t a matter of what he did, but of trusting in what Christ had done.

          The insight/revelation was a vital corrective to a church in which salvation had become highly transactional: if you do these things, you could be sure of heaven. Luther’s new understanding changed his life; his writing and teaching triggered the Protestant Reformation, and consequently the history of Western Civilization.

          What began as a stunning revelation in the context of Luther’s personal struggles and the church of his times, however, has become a sort of spiritual wallpaper these hundreds of years later. Apart from deep conversion experiences, “salvation by faith alone” is often understood as accepting the proposition that Jesus is one’s personal Lord and Savior. In other words, “belief” is equated with “faith.”

But “salvation” and “faith” can mean different things to us as we journey through life. We come to understand faith as more than accepting something otherwise incomprehensible or incredible. It is the process of learning to entrust our whole being to an inscrutable but merciful God. Faith is about the already and the not yet. It is a curious matter, as St. Paul puts it in other places, of both having been saved and of being saved. 

Gospel: Mark 8:31-38

Then Jesus began to teach his disciples that the Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again. He said all this quite openly. And Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him. But turning and looking at his disciples, he rebuked Peter and said, "Get behind me, Satan! For you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things."

He called the crowd with his disciples, and said to them, "If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it. For what will it profit them to gain the whole world and forfeit their life? Indeed, what can they give in return for their life? Those who are ashamed of me and of my words in this adulterous and sinful generation, of them the Son of Man will also be ashamed when he comes in the glory of his Father with the holy angels."

Reflections: I don’t know about you, but Mark’s use of the word “rebuke” comes as a surprise to me. It’s a remarkably strong word, more appropriate for money changers than for his closest friends. Nevertheless, while Jesus could have corrected gently Peter, he reprimands him sharply; he “rebukes.”

Of course Peter can’t accept what Jesus is saying. It is mad, horrifying, unthinkable. Moreover, in the gospel story, Peter has just professed that Jesus is the Messiah. (Of course, Peter still has his own ideas of what “messiah” means. But don’t we all?)

So what’s up with Jesus? Why is he so hard on Peter? What nerve does Peter strike? Perhaps it’s Jesus’ own fear—the fear we see in the Garden, with Jesus’ bloody sweat and his dread of this “cup”?

Then again, I wonder whether Jesus’ rebuke could be intentional and salvific, directed at Peter to shock him out of the rut of his ordinary views—out of ‘the way the world thinks.’

We all live with our mind and heart on a default setting that has been shaped by our society and our family over the course of our whole lives. To transcend that conditioning, to truly open our minds, involves more than correcting information. It involves being touched and moved at a really deep level. The shock of illness, death, failure—or maybe even being rebuked by Jesus—can sometimes be the key that opens us up. Pray that when that happens, we don’t slam the door shut again as soon as things “get back to normal.”