The Messiah Is Among Us!

The Messiah Is Among Us

Matthew 28:16-20

            I’ve come across a treasure trove of stories recently, many of which have got me thinking in new directions.  Over the next few weeks I’ll share some of them with you.  I do not know who wrote this story, so I can’t give credit, but I am grateful to the author.

            There was an ancient and famous monastery which had fallen on hard times.  Formerly its buildings had been filled with monks, and its large church had resounded with the sound of many voices. Now the monastery was nearly deserted.  A handful of faithful brothers shuffled through the cloisters, singing and praying with heavy hearts. 

            At the edge of the monastery woods an old rabbi had built a little hut.  He went there from time to time to pray and fast.  No one from the monastery ever spoke with him, but when he appeared the word would be passed:  “The rabbi walks in the woods.”  Whenever he was in residence the monks felt sustained by his prayerful presence.

            One day the abbot of the monastery decided to visit the rabbi and open his heart to him.  As he approached the hut, he saw the rabbi standing in the doorway with outstretched arms in welcome.  It was as though he had been waiting for this occasion.  They embraced as brothers.

            The rabbi gestured for the abbot to enter.  In the midst of the room was a plain wooden table with an open Bible.  As they sat in the presence of the Holy Scriptures, the rabbi began to cry.  The abbot could not contain himself and also began to cry.  They filled the hut with the sounds of their sobs.

            After the tears had ceased and all was quiet, the rabbi said, “You and your brothers are serving God with heavy hearts.  You have come to ask a teaching of me.  I will give you this teaching, but you can only repeat it once.  After that, no one must say it aloud again.”  The rabbi looked solemnly at the abbot and said, “The Messiah is among you.”  They embraced again, then the abbot left without a word and without looking back.

            The next morning the abbot called the other monks together and told them he had received a teaching from “the rabbi who walks in the woods.”  Once they heard it, the teaching was never to be spoken aloud again.  He looked in turn at each of his brothers and said, “The rabbi says the Messiah is among us.”  The monks were startled, but remained silent. They left the room and went about their daily business.  No one ever mentioned the teaching again.

            Almost immediately the monks began to treat each other with increased reverence.  Visitors to the monastery were deeply touched by their love for each other.  People came from far and wide to be nourished by the prayer life of the brothers.  Young men began asking about becoming part of their community.  The rabbi no longer walked in the woods, but the monks who had taken his teaching to heart were still sustained by a prayerful presence.

            How would our lives be different if we knew the Messiah was among us?  How would we behave at work?  At school?  How would our family life change?  Would we begin to treat our family members with the same reverence that the monks shared with each other?

            How would our churches change?  Would we worship differently?  How would committee meetings and board meetings be different?  Would our love for each other be so overwhelming that visitors would notice?  Would there be an end to the bickering that frequently divides us?  Would people want to join our fellowship?

            What would change if we knew the Messiah was among us? 

He is!

Where Is the Treasure

Where Is the Treasure?

Matthew 13:44

            Jesus tells an interesting parable about the kingdom of heaven.  A man, for some reason, is poking around in a field he doesn’t own.  He finds a buried treasure.  Without telling anyone of his discovery, he sells everything he has, buys the field, and takes possession of both the land and the treasure.

            Putting aside the man’s sneakiness—perhaps unethical behavior—we get the point Jesus was making.  God’s kingdom is worth everything we have—and then some.  If we give up all we have and all we are to obtain the kingdom, we’re way ahead. 

            Recently I came across a story told by Rev. Russell Conwell that presents another view of treasure hunting, one that also has implications for us in our search for heavenly treasure.

            There was a wealthy farmer in Africa whose name was Hafid.  He owned a huge, fertile tract of land, large herds of camels and goats, and orchards full of date and fig trees.  He had more than enough of worldly goods.

            One day a wandering holy man came to Hafid’s farm, and told him that huge fields of diamonds were being discovered.  The distinguishing geographical features of these fields were rivers with white sands that flowed out of valleys lying between V-shaped mountains.

            Hafid was so eager for greater wealth that he sold everything he had—land, herds, orchards—and went in search of this fortune.  He never found it.  Search as he might he was not able to find such a valley.  Finally, he died, a poor, broken, disillusioned man.

            Meanwhile, the man who had bought Hafid’s farm found a pretty rock in the river as he watered his camels.  He admired it for its sparkle, picked it up and took it home, where he put it on a shelf.  The sun reflecting through it made pretty rainbow patterns across the room. 

            Sometime later, the same wandering holy man came back to the farm.  Seeing the rock and its rainbow colors he asked the new owner where he had found it.  When they got to the river the holy man looked up and saw that it flowed into the valley from between V-shaped mountains.  As they walked along they found more and more of the pretty rocks, which the holy man identified as diamonds.  Eventually they found that the land contained acres and acres of diamonds. 

The farm became the Kimberly Diamond Mine, the richest in all South Africa.  Hafid, in his haste to gain more wealth, didn’t bother to look around him.  If he had, he would never have sold his property.  He would have discovered the diamonds, and become wealthy beyond his wildest dreams instead of dying far from home in poverty.

Psalm 121 begins with the words, “I will lift up my eyes to the hills.”  If Hafid had looked up he would have seen the V-shape of the mountains which identified the valley as a source of diamonds.  Had he looked down when he was watering his flocks he would have seen the diamonds.  Instead he looked far away, and as a result lost not only his chance at greater wealth, but the wealth he already had.

We too should look for treasure where we live.  The man in Jesus’ parable was near his home.  He was not on some exotic journey, but close to his own village. 

Our treasure will be found in our service to God.  Most of us will not be called to go adventuring far away, but will serve where we live.  That’s where we’ll find our field of diamonds.

            

Gender Equality

 Gender Equality

Ephesians 5:22-33

            One of the most profound documents ever written is the United States Constitution.  The framers of the Constitution were in many ways wise beyond their time.  Nothing like this had ever been tried before.  There was no model for creating this kind of government, nor for a document that would guide the fledgling country into the future.

            The wisdom of these men can be seen in the endurance of both the democracy and its guiding star.  Not only has the Constitution stood the test of time (more than 200 years in existence), but the number of amendments remains amazingly low.  Our founding fathers couldn’t think of everything (it says nothing, for instance, about the internet), but they gave us a framework which we have used to successfully solve the problems of an ever-changing nation. 

When we think of how much the culture has changed in the past 200 years, we can understand that our founders could not have anticipated everything that has occurred.  Thanks to their wisdom we haven’t had to throw the document out and start over; but we must constantly reinterpret it to meet the needs of our country as we continue to move into the future.  Documents such as our Constitution are written within the confines of a particular time, place, and cultural orientation.  Its genius is that its construction makes reinterpretation possible and avoids the need to replace or drastically modify it.

So it is with the Bible.  The major difference is that it was composed over a much longer time, in many more places, and in a very different culture.  It is impossible to completely understand the Bible without understanding the culture (actually cultures) from which it comes.  How can we accomplish this?  How can we understand enough about biblical cultures to catch even a glimpse of what it meant to those people—and what it might mean to us today?

Gender relations provide a good example.  In the early days of humanity, the important quality for survival was strength—strength to ward off enemies, both human and animal; strength to do the major work of the farm or shop; strength to build the structures for living and working.  To a great extent, that quality is not as necessary as it once was.  With machines to do much of the heavy lifting, women can perform as well as men in such fields as factory work, auto mechanics, flying planes, driving trucks—even soldiering.  As long as a woman can use her brain as well as a man (some would say that’s not difficult), she can do the same work.

Sexual ethics have also changed drastically.  In the days before DNA testing it was necessary for a woman to remain her father’s daughter until she became her husband’s wife.  It was necessary for her to stay at home unless accompanied by a male relative.  This was primarily for economic reasons.  If a woman could not prove that she was a virgin when she married, and then remain faithful to her husband, the inheritance of his property was subject to challenge.  She had to be able to assure everyone that she could not possibly have given birth to another man’s child.  To insure this she had to be virtually imprisoned in her own home.  She was always under male domination, with no possibility of equality.

When we read injunctions such as Paul’s to the Corinthians (or Peter’s in 1 Peter 2:1-7) we must remember the cultural setting in which they were written.  Compare their words with Genesis 2:24.  “Therefore a man shall leave his father and his mother and hold fast to his wife, and they shall become one flesh.”  There doesn’t seem to be any domination here.  This sounds like pure equality.  It seems to me that God ordained both members of a couple to be equal partners in the union, both with the same rights and responsibilities—and benefits.  Perhaps we should look carefully at these passages to see what they might mean for us in light of new scientific knowledge.

Helpers or Stumbling Blocks?

Helpers or Stumbling Blocks?

Luke 17:1-2

            In his letter to the Romans, Paul takes the matter of helping fellow Christians very seriously.  He spends all of chapter fourteen and the first part of chapter fifteen on the subject.  “As for the one who is weak in faith, welcome him, but not to quarrel over opinions.”

            Too often we are guilty of doing just that.  We love to get ahold of new believers and indoctrinate them into our version of Christianity.  Some even go so far as to claim, “If you don’t believe exactly as I believe, you have no hope of ending up in heaven.”  Jesus addressed this issue (Matthew 23:4) directly when he said, “They tie up heavy burdens, hard to bear, and lay them on people’s shoulders.” 

            Paul doesn’t stop there.  He speaks about judgmentalism, one of humanity’s greatest sins.  Oh how we love to tell other people how they should live!  How we love to sit in our chairs by the side of life’s road and criticize those who live differently than we do.  We may not understand the reasons for the differences, but that hardly matters.  If they don’t meet our standards we (verbally/mentally) cut them to ribbons.

            “Who are you to pass judgment on the servant of another?” Paul says.  “It is before his own master that he stands or falls.”  In other words, God is the judge, not us—and a lucky thing for the majority of the human race it is, for most people wouldn’t make it out of our court unpunished.

            Paul’s two topics of concern seem to be celebrating or not celebrating certain festival days, and what people choose to eat.  Usually when Paul addresses food, the issue is eating meat that has been first offered to idols.  While these issues are of no importance to most of us today, there are many other ways we judge our fellow humans—all of them wrong.

            “Therefore let us not pass judgment on one another any longer, but rather decide never to put a stumbling block in the way of a brother.”  Or sister.  The word Paul uses means brother and sister.  We must be careful not to cause anyone to err.  Paul adds, “So then let us pursue what makes for peace and for mutual upbuilding.”

            Lest you think Paul is alone in criticizing our actions, we have the words of Jesus Christ to chide us.  “Temptations to sin are sure to come,” Jesus says, “but woe to the one through whom they come!  It would be better for him if a millstone were hung around his neck and he were cast into the sea than that he should cause one of these little ones to sin.”

            This is a double condemnation.  People living in the first century had no idea what lay beneath the surface of the sea.  For all they knew, horrible monsters lived in its impenetrable depths.  The very mention of the sea sent shivers down most spines.

            Coupled with the fear of the sea was the size of millstones.  They measured about four feet across.  They were large and heavy because they were used to grind grain.  The hard-shelled grain was placed between two stones.  The bottom one remained stationary while the top one was turned, usually by a donkey, since it would be heavy for a man to move.  For a person to have one of these stones fastened to his neck and thrown into the sea meant there would be no escape for the horrors that awaited him below.  He was twice doomed.

            Which are we:  helpful brothers and sisters, or stumbling blocks?  Paul and Jesus give us only these two choices.  If by our judgmentalism and our insistence on making people follow our standards we cause them to sin, we suffer God’s punishment.  Better—far better—to follow Paul’s guiding words:  “Whoever thus serves Christ is acceptable to God and approved by people.  So then let us pursue what makes for peace and for mutual upbuilding.”

What Does the Lord Expect?

What Does the Lord Expect?

Luke 17:7-10

            Many of us have become hooked on Downton Abby—so much so that we can’t get enough.  We watch the original broadcasts.  We buy each season’s DVD’s.  We watch the background shows about the program:  the one about the castle that is used for the setting, and anything else they think will sell—even reruns.  I even remember a political cartoon based on the show right after they killed off Matthew.

            This show has given us a good look at British aristocracy in the first third of the 20^th century.  We have gained insights into how they relate to each other, to the “lower classes,” and especially to the servant class.  The family with whom we have become so acquainted treats their servants well, but we are left with no doubt as to the presence of class distinction.  We know who the masters are and who the servants are, and (except in one case) there is no socializing between them. 

            This is also the cultural situation which is the setting for Jesus’ parable of the obedient servant.  The usual translation of the parable’s opening phrase is, “Will any one of you who has a servant…?”  Sometimes it will read, “Which of you, having a servant…?”  Kenneth Bailey, a man long acquainted with the Middle East and several Middle Eastern languages (he taught there for almost thirty years) says there is a better, more accurate translation.  He begins his version with the words, “Can you imagine having a servant…?”

            For him, this translation makes more sense because the answer from the audience would be a resounding, “No!”  No one listening to Jesus could imagine any master rewarding a servant in this way.  Everyone in the crowd would have understood the master/servant relationship as surely as does every character in Downton Abby.  There would be no question as to who gets to eat first.  The master is the master and the servant is the servant.  The servant serves the master then eats.

            Bailey says we shouldn’t feel sorry for the servant.  It’s not that he’s been plowing the field or tending sheep since sunup.  The servant has had what to us would seem a rather short work day—certainly not the eight (perhaps eight plus) hours that constitute our normal load.  The servant has not been worked nearly to death.  Instead, he has put in what we would think of as about a half-day’s work.

            The truth is that no servant would expect special consideration for doing a day’s labor.  He did what was expected of him in the fields; now it’s time to do the household chores.  It is also true that, unlike our culture, where servants are rare, Middle Eastern families, except for the very poor, would likely have at least one hired person to do the more menial chores.  It is even possible that the master in this story would have put in as much work as the servant.  This certainly would be the case in, for instance, fishing families like that of Zebedee, who, even though he himself worked and had two sons in the business, still had “hired hands” to help with the load.

            The point Jesus is trying to make is that the master owed his servant no special consideration for completing his work.  The servant had merely done what was expected of him during the day.  Now he is expected to prepare the evening meal and serve it. 

            Just so should we not, when we have done everything God requires of us, expect any special consideration.  God owes us nothing for our labor.  There is no such thing as “work righteousness.”  We have done what was expected of us.  Therefore, we should say with the servant in the parable, “Nothing is owed us.  We have only done what was our duty.”

A Sense of Reverence

A Sense of Reverence

Psalm 96

            I read an article recently about a man who had grown up in a conservative religious denomination, one that is quite prevalent here in the south.  The article documented his transition from that beginning to the Greek Orthodox Church, where he will soon become a priest.  His journey involved college and law school, nine years as a practicing attorney, and a slow, somewhat meandering change in his religious outlook.

            How does this happen?  Those of us who find ourselves in full-time ministry understand those first halting steps, then more and more assurance that we are being called as the train leaves the station and picks up speed.  We’re aware of the doubts that continue even after we’ve made the decision, which often continue through the sometimes tortuous seminary experience.  All the time we become more and more sure that this is the right path, that this is what we’re supposed to be doing.

            Some of us fight it.  “No, God, you can’t mean me.  You don’t want me to be a pastor (preacher/minister/priest).  You must mean the other guy.  He’s much more holy than I am.  Or maybe you’ve mistaken me for that woman over there whose name is somewhat like mine.  She’s a much better speaker.”  And we fight it, and fight it, and fight it until we give in, exhausted, finally realizing we can’t win this battle.

            Most times our call involves staying in the denomination we’ve grown up in.  That makes sense.  The indoctrination process begins early, as we are taken to church each Sunday (or most Sundays, or some Sundays).  We hear words that become familiar to us.  We fall into patterns of worship that are comforting and comfortable.  We sing hymns that become part of our musical subconscious.  All of this is good and right and to be expected.

            Sometimes, as with the man in this article, there’s a denominational shift.  The shift can lead us left or right on the conservative/liberal scale, up or down on the liturgical scale, or in some direction on some scale I haven’t thought of.  At some point there is a sea change.  It may be quick and violent like a tidal wave, or slow and steady like a tidal pull, but we find ourselves adrift, then snug and safe in a new harbor, wondering what happened, but knowing we’re home.

            What made this man change denominations?  I should add that his sea change was huge.  In this country only a small fraction of the population identifies itself as Orthodox Christians.  What was it he found in Orthodox worship that made him feel at home?

            About his first visit as a nineteen year-old college student he said, “I was really blown away.  I didn’t understand a lot of things going on,” (the liturgy would have been far removed from what he had known growing up) “but what really struck me was the sense of reverence.”

            A sense of reverence.  The feeling that you are in a sacred place doing holy things.  The experience of wonder in worship. 

            I’m afraid we’ve lost that feeling in many of our churches.  I believe there should be a wide variety of worship styles so each of us can find God through the things that make spiritual sense to us.  Still, I worry that our worship—like our dress code and our manners—has become too casual.  It doesn’t seem to matter if we feel a sense of reverence, or that we are on holy ground.  We’re satisfied that we’re in church, and whatever we do is OK as long as we worship somehow. 

            Perhaps that’s enough:  but I can’t help wondering if God might appreciate it if we worshipped the Lord in the splendor of holiness, and trembled before God in God’s holy temple.  Perhaps we need more often to experience our own sense of reverence.

Costly Grace

Costly Grace

Luke 19:1-9

One problem faced by preachers is how to keep the old material fresh.  How do you take a Scripture passage that you’ve preached many times (and/or one that everyone has preached many times) and say something new about it?  You can’t keep saying the same thing over and over, nor can you completely ignore those passages.  They’re staples.  Besides, if you use the lectionary, they keep surfacing every three years.  What’s the solution?

One method is to buy new books that comment on the old passages.  A friend recently lent me a couple of books by an author with whom I was not familiar.  His writings have given me new insights into many of Jesus’ parables that are recorded in Luke’s gospel.

Another way is to be open to new leadings of the Holy Spirit, and to recognize the relevance of familiar Scriptures to modern life.  Human nature hasn’t changed much in the last 10,000 years or so.  We still face the same problems biblical people faced.  We just experience them with new technology.

I should add that the above solutions are not mutually exclusive.  In fact, it is necessary to apply all three—and perhaps others that I haven’t thought of—to the problem of finding new meaning in familiar Scriptures.

One of the staple passages from the gospels is the story of Zacchaeus.  I remember hearing it in Sunday school as a kid, where the emphasis was on Zacchaeus’ size—or lack of it.  The teacher tried to make it relevant to boys who shared Zacchaeus’ height differential problem.  We were small; so was he.  We climbed trees to see the world; so did he.  Of course, that’s where the parallels ended.  We weren’t rich tax collectors, nor did we give banquets.  Still, the lesson was absorbed, and we were able to identify with Zacchaeus and hope that Jesus would come to us in the same way.  We even had a song we sang about the story.

As an adult, and one of slightly above average height, I look at the story from a different angle.  I try to find something that speaks to me and draws me in.  I also have to find something that will attract those people to whom I minister on Sunday mornings.

The word that moves me now is grace.  Grace is a universal concern.  We all need it.  We all want it.  We all worry that we aren’t worthy of it (we’re not, of course).  We all want to be sure there’s enough to go around.

Even if he didn’t know it, Zacchaeus needed grace.  He may have climbed that tree just to see what all the excitement was about—as well as to escape the jabs and pushes of his unfriendly neighbors—but he needed grace.  Jesus knew that, and offered it to him.  Jesus should have eaten at the home of one of the leading citizens of Jericho.  Instead, he chose to go home with the most hated man in town.  That’s a huge offering of grace.

At the dinner table Zacchaeus offered grace in return.  You remember:  he promised to give half of his goods to the poor. He also said he would return four times any amount he had taken unjustly.  That’s another a huge offering of grace.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer said that grace isn’t cheap.  It costs—and the cost of grace is high.  Moreover, grace costs both the giver and receiver.  Grace cost Jesus, because his reputation among the good people of Jericho hit rock bottom.  How could he associate with such a rotten person as Zacchaeus?  Grace cost Zacchaeus.  Once he had given away so much of his worldly goods he would have to seriously change his lifestyle.

Was it worth it?  What do you think?