Our Father's World

Our Father’s World

Genesis 1

            “Worldly-mindedness, infidelity, and dissipation threatened to deluge the land, and sweep away all vestiges of piety and morality.”

            Sound familiar?  This is the way many of us see the world today.  Things are so bad that they cannot get worse.  Our country—in fact the whole world—is going downhill so rapidly it’s like a runaway freight train.  Oh, if we could only go back to the “good old days,” of _____(fill in the blank), when people were_____(fill in the blank), we would be so much better off.  Maybe God should just send another flood (or some other means of destruction), wipe out all the immorality, infidelity, impiety and worldly-mindedness and just start over—leaving us, of course, and all people who think and believe like us.

            Actually, the quote comes from Robert Davidson, a nineteenth-century historian writing about the State of Kentucky in 1800.  Not more than four or five percent of the state’s population claimed to be members of any church, say Lester G. McAllister and William E. Tucker in their book Journey in Faith.  Davidson also said, “The population of the State advanced with incredible rapidity, and soon outstripped the means of grace.”  Does that sound familiar?

            That’s a scathing criticism, but it’s something we need to be reminded of.  The world has always had problems.  Yes, it was created perfect by God.  We only have to read the first chapter of Genesis to know that.  God created the world good—God said so!  After each act of creation was completed, “God saw that it was good.”  Our ancestors were handed a perfect world. 

            What happened?

            We know the answer.  Sin entered the world and caused the brokenness we see all around us.  We’re all imperfect.  As a result, all our institutions are imperfect (yes, even the church!).  But if we want to return to some more perfect past, we have to go all the way back to the beginning.  On the whole, we’ve never been better or worse off than we are today.

            There have always been people who have felt the world pressing in upon them and who seek to escape.  In the early days of the church there were the desert fathers (and mothers) who opted out of society in order to experience God more fully.  Today there are still men and women who seek release from the world in monastic enclaves.  We should be grateful to these people, because they have given us some of the world’s greatest thoughts on God’s relationship to humankind.  Most of us are not called to that life.  We are called instead to live in this imperfect world and to strive to make it better.

            Above all, we must remember that, while the battle seems to be against us, it is far from over.  While things have always been bad, and Christians have always been in the minority, we know the outcome.  We know, even if we cannot prove it day by day, that this is still God’s world, and God will not let it destroy itself.  As Maltbie D. Babcock said so well:

This is my Father’s world: 

Oh let me ne’er forget

That though the wrong seems oft so strong,

God is the ruler yet.

This is my Father’s world

The battle is not done;

Jesus who died shall be satisfied,

And earth and heaven be one.

Humility and Arrogance

Humility and Arrogance

Mark 10:32-45

            If we’re looking for a pair of words that are true opposites, these two would have to be in the running.  Throughout our lives we’ve run into both types of people—those who were humble and those who were arrogant, and it’s easy to tell the difference.  If you’re like me, you’ve probably had the misfortune to run into more of the arrogant type than the humble type.  It’s unfortunate but true:  arrogance far outstrips humility in the people with whom we come in contact.

            Why should this be so?  Perhaps the story Mark tells in today’s reading gives us a clue.  Jesus has just told his disciples (a third time) of his coming torture and execution.  He is trying to prepare them for what will happen to him—and to them—once they arrive in Jerusalem.  He knows they are afraid, worried about the future, so he tries to reassure them that all will turn out right.  Yes, he is going to die, but he will rise again.

            Immediately after Jesus finishes, James and John come to him asking for a favor.  Jesus knows what we know about requests like this:  never promise to do a favor until you know what it is.  He asks what they want, and they make a very inappropriate request.  They want to sit on his right and left when he comes into his glory.

            What arrogance!  What gall!  Jesus has just told them not only that he will die, but that the entire process will be one of humiliation.  There will be no honor here, no glory—at least not yet.  The whole arrest, mock trial, beating and crucifixion will be devastating, degrading.  To make it worse, Jesus knows that all those now with him, including James and John, will desert, will leave him to his fate without raising a finger to help, without even being with him.  They will think only of their own skins and not of his anguish and pain.

            Jesus could have responded in anger.  He could have given James and John their comeuppance merely by asking them which one wanted to sit on his right—the position of highest honor—and then stepped back and watched them fight it out, acting even more like selfish children than they did with their original request.  But this was not the way Jesus handled situations.  His rebuke was, as usual, gentle and kind, creating a “teachable moment,” a chance for him to help them see the inappropriateness of their request.

            First, he showed them that, while they would indeed suffer as he would, drinking the cup of sorrow and suffering, and going through the same baptism of fire, he did not have the authority to assign those places.  Those seats were reserved for those who had paid the price for them—those who had earned them in the eyes of God the Father.

            Then Jesus turned to the other disciples, who were angry at their companions’ arrogance, and taught them that the only way to be a leader is to be a follower.  The only way to glory is through service.  Isn’t that what a minister does—serve others?

            If we move forward a few days, we see Jesus demonstrating this as he washes his disciples’ feet.  If we move forward again we see who is on Jesus’ right and left at the end—two thieves, at least one of whom will enter into God’s glory that day.

            What we learn is that the path to glory leads through death—death to sin and death to the world’s values of arrogance, vanity, and selfishness.  We cannot hope to earn a place near Jesus until we learn to humble ourselves, first by submitting to the death of our own will, then taking up our cross and following our Lord, and finally serving others the way Jesus served:  in true humility and love.

Rewards and Punishments

Rewards and Punishments

Romans 6:16-23

            “In nature, there are neither rewards nor punishments; there are consequences.”  So said Robert Green Ingersoll, post-Civil War American political leader and orator.  Nicknamed “The Great Agnostic,” Ingersoll was on to something.  We might not agree with his religious stance, but his words have the ring of truth.

            We know he’s right.  Even if we can’t fully understand the laws of physics, we know we can’t break them.  We can’t be in two places at once (how many times have we used that as an excuse for not being able to do something for someone?).  We know two objects can’t occupy the same space at the same time.  We’ve either been in or witnessed enough automobile accidents to understand that one.  We know what goes up must come down.  We know—well, we know all that stuff.  Above all else we know that if we try to break the laws of nature we will suffer the consequences.

            Behavioral psychology is based on the same principle.  Behaviorists do not reward or punish, they set up consequences—as close to natural consequences as possible.  My father was not a behaviorist by training, but he knew how to set up consequences for my behavior.  When my parents went out with some friends after I was supposed to be in bed one night, I turned on the TV to finish watching a movie.  As a result, I was forbidden to watch a sporting event the following night.  (How did my father know I’d broken the rules?  He felt the TV set.  It was still warm.  I didn’t think of that.)

            God is a behaviorist.  We shouldn’t be surprised.  After all, God did create the universe, and with it, the laws of physics.  God can break those laws, but at least in our time, chooses not to.  We live within the universe God has given us, and must live within its laws.

            When it comes to our relationship with God there are also laws we must obey, and breaking them brings consequences.  God made an “if…then…” covenant with Israel.  “If you will be my people and worship me, and keep my commandments, I will be your God and will bless you.”  No rewards.  No punishments.  Just consequences.  That’s what an “if…then…” covenant is all about.

            Paul says much the same thing in Romans.  “The wages of sin is death,” he tells us.  We understand wages.  We work, we get paid.  If everything works right, we get paid what our work is worth.  No reward.  No punishment, just wages—just consequences. 

            If Paul had stopped there, we would indeed be the most miserable of creatures.  We’re sinners.  We’ve broken God’s law.  The consequence?  Death—eternal death.  But neither Paul nor God stopped there.  The verse has a second part: “but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.”

            What Paul is talking about is redemption.  We can do nothing to deserve nor earn redemption.  We just have to accept it.  Writing in Newsweek  (October 1&8 issue) Dilip D’Souza said:  “Punishment is black and white…But redemption?  For a complex world, that’s a complex idea.  Hard to flesh out, sometimes hard to sell, but fired with promise all the same.”

            Fired with promise!  Those are welcome words.  They cheer our hearts.  We can hear Paul saying, “But God’s gift, fired with promise, is life eternal, given to us through the life, death and resurrection of our Lord Jesus Christ.”

            Is hell a punishment?  No, it’s a consequence—a consequence of sin.  Is heaven a reward?  No, it’s a consequence—a consequence of the acceptance of God’s free gift of redemption.  A consequence fired with the promise of God’s covenant with us.

Resources

Resources

Mark 7:24-30

            I remember our New Testament professor telling us about the first century attitude towards resources.  People believed all resources were finite.  In order for me to get more of something, you, or someone else would have to lose an equivalent amount.  If I gained property or money it was at your expense.  The only way for the rich to get richer was to take from the poor.  We find the same belief in the Hebrew Scriptures.  It is the basis for much of what the prophets—and Jesus—say about the relationship between the rich and the poor.

            Today we have a much different understanding.  Some natural resources are finite, we know.  Scientists tell us there is only so much coal, oil, and natural gas in the earth, for instance.  When the supplies are gone there will be no more.  Hence the search for sources of renewable energy.  Land is also finite.  There are only a few places (the Big Island of Hawaii is one) where more land is being created, usually from volcanoes emitting lava flows.

            On the other hand, it is possible that economic resources may be practically unlimited.  When we raise the standard of living in developing nations we create larger markets for the goods we make.  In turn, these countries produce goods we may be interested in purchasing.  We can argue about consumerism as a value, but we feel confident that economies can continue to grow to everyone’s advantage.

            Today’s reading is a story about resources.  Jesus has left Galilee for the region of Tyre and Sidon, a non-Jewish area.  Instead of being surrounded by his own people, he is in a land of Gentiles.  We know what this means.  To the Jews, Gentiles were not just foreigners, they were unclean.  If we back up to the beginning of the chapter we find Jesus debating cleanliness laws with the Pharisees and the scribes.  Mark tells us the Jews washed all food that came from the marketplace.  Before we congratulate them on their hygiene, let us remember that they washed the food not because of germs (which they knew nothing about), but because it (and they) had been in contact with Gentiles.

            In today’s story, a Gentile woman, Syro-phoenician by birth, comes to Jesus asking that he heal her daughter who was possessed by an unclean spirit.  Jesus refuses on the grounds that his healing resources are only for the Jews.  He uses the example of giving food to dogs that should be given to children. 

            What is Jesus doing here?  It sounds as if he’s taking up the argument of the religious leaders.  It seems he’s asking:  “Why should I help someone who is not a Jew—someone my people consider unclean?”  It has been suggested that perhaps he was testing the woman’s faith.  If so, he comes off badly.  It just doesn’t sound like something Jesus would do.  It has also been suggested that he spoke not for the woman’s sake, but for the sake of his disciples.  They needed to learn that people were not clean or unclean simply because of an accident of birth.

            The woman replies,  “Yes, Lord; yet even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs.”  Jesus rewards her faith by telling her that her daughter has been healed.  But what if she hadn’t been quick-witted enough to come up with the perfect answer?  Would Jesus have healed her daughter anyway?  We’ll never know, just as we will never know why Jesus made his seemingly insulting comment.

            Whatever Jesus’ reason, one thing is clear:  God’s resources are infinite.  There is no end to God’s grace.  We know also that God does not play favorites.  We are all God’s children, and God loves all of us.  Some of the resources we have been given on earth may run out, but there will never be an end to the blessings we receive from God.

Now the Silence

Now the Silence

Mark 1

Psalm 46:10

            There are certain hymns which move me.  It’s usually the combination of a soul-stirring text and a magnificent melody that reaches a place inside me, leaves me awe-struck and touches my emotions.  Now the Silence by Jaruslav J. Vajda, with music by Carl F. Shalk is one of these.  I can’t hear it without having a visceral reaction.  My wife knows this, and will frequently play it during Communion.  No one else in the congregation (to my knowledge) knows this hymn well enough to have a similar reaction, so I know she is playing it for me.

            The words of the title are significant.  A band conductor who influenced me greatly used to say (quite rightly), “Music begins and ends with silence.”  He said it to get our attention before we began playing, but even more to focus our attention on the music we were about to play. 

Music begins and ends with silence.  There is that moment of anticipation before the musicians begin to sing or play where everything is at rest.  Everyone is attentive to what is about to happen.  Likewise, when the music stops, there is a moment, however brief, before the audience reacts to what they have just heard.  There are times when the music is so moving that this moment, for me, is extended.  I cannot applaud.  I cannot react in any other way but silence. 

We’re not silent enough often enough or long enough.  The psalmist urges us to be still in order to know God—to experience God, to feel God moving in our lives.  If we are not silent, how can we hear God’s voice?  Elijah learned on the mountain how to find God in the silence.  God was not in the power of the earthquake or the storm, but in the still, small voice.  If Elijah had not learned to be silent, he would have missed that voice.

Now!  Such a short word, but one packed with meaning.  We want what we want when we want it.  We never lose that childish desire to have our needs—our wants—met now!  We don’t like waiting.  The faster computers move the more impatient we become.  Now!  Let it happen now! 

There is also a good side to now.  There are times when, in silent reverence, we come to God asking for release, for comfort, for healing, for blessing, and we know we need God’s touch right then.  Is it wrong to ask for God to touch us now?  Will God make us wait?

Now the Silence!  Let the words wash over you now.  In silence.

Now the silence Now the peace

Now the empty hands uplifted

Now the kneeling Now the plea

Now the Father’s arms in welcome

Now the hearing Now the power

Now the vessel brimmed for pouring

Now the body Now the Blood

Now the joyful celebration

Now the wedding Now the songs

Now the heart forgiven leaping

Now the Spirit’s visitation

Now the Son’s epiphany

Now the Father’s blessing

Now

Now

Now

Casting Out Demons

Casting Out Demons

Mark 9:38-40

            Jesus’ disciples are so inconsistent.  One minute they’re confessing that Jesus is the Messiah.  The next they’re trying to cast out demons and failing.  Then they’re arguing over who is the greatest in the kingdom and feeling embarrassed when Jesus confronts them with their pride and vanity.  They’re all over the place—kind of like us, even on our good days.  We look at the disciples and say: “How could they not get it?  How could they not see what was right in front of them?  Couldn’t they use their eyes and ears?”  We forget we have the benefit of hindsight.  We know how this story turns out.  We also forget that we fail to see Jesus for what he is, and fail to follow his teaching as often as the disciples.

            Jesus has just tried to teach them that whoever would be greatest must be first of all a servant.  Difficult words to hear, and even more difficult to accept, even though they—and we— have Jesus’ example to follow.  We see the disciples’ failure but we don’t see our own.  With all our knowledge and experience, how can we still seek our own advantage?

            John says to Jesus, “Someone was casting out demons in your name, but he wasn’t part of our group, so we told him to stop.”

            As a teacher, I’ve frequently been frustrated when I explain something to the best of my ability, and then watch as my students fail the quiz.  I understand why this happens, but it doesn’t stop me from being frustrated.  I can only guess at how Jesus must have felt when, time and time again, his disciples failed the test.  Yet Jesus explains patiently that there are those who are doing good works in God’s name even if they aren’t part of the “in group,” and that’s okay.  He tells the disciples that it’s impossible to be on two sides. If these people are calling down God’s power, and healing in Jesus’ name, they can’t possibly be on the wrong side.

            Perhaps the disciples were jealous.  We know they weren’t above that sort of thing—but then, who among us is free from jealousy?  Just a little earlier (vv.17-29) Mark tells us that the disciples couldn’t cast a demon out of a young boy.  Now here’s someone else accomplishing what they couldn’t do.  We can understand they might not be thrilled at being upstaged by people appearing to be outside the inner circle.

            I am committed to ecumenism.  I believe with my whole heart that no one group of believers has discovered the whole truth.  I believe just as fervently that each group of Christians—denomination, individual congregation, family—has discovered a part of God’s truth, and is entitled to believe and express and teach that truth as long as the gospel is being preached and good works are performed in God’s name.  I think both of these principles apply here.  Whoever these exorcists were, they were using Jesus’ name—not taking the Lord’s name in vain, but using the Name above all other names to advance the work of God’s kingdom.  As Jesus says (Mark 3:25), no house divided against itself can stand for very long.  Sooner or later it’s got to come tumbling down.  If these people are casting out demons in Jesus’ name they have got to be on Jesus’ side.

             When the disciples ask Jesus (v. 28) why they could not heal the boy, Jesus says: “This kind [of demon] can only come out through prayer.”  Perhaps the disciples hadn’t prayed enough to be able to conquer their own demons.  Do we find ourselves in the same place?  Do we need to be in prayer more frequently, asking God to take away our demons?  Only as we are healed can we hope to heal.  Only as, by God’s grace, we exorcise our own demons can we help others lose theirs.

            One more reason to pray without ceasing.

Scriptural Sound Bytes

What Do We Expect from Our Messiah?

Mark 8:27-38

            Jesus spent a lot of time in conversation with his disciples as they traveled from place to place.  After all, they were on foot, so they had the opportunity to cover many topics.  We can assume that what we read in the gospels is only a fraction of their conversation.  We can imagine the disciples asking many questions and Jesus providing the answers as they hung on his every word.  We can also imagine the opposite:  Jesus asking questions of the disciples, and using their answers as the basis for teachable moments.

            One such incident is recorded in the eighth chapter of Mark.  As they walk along, or perhaps as they take a break by the side of the road, Jesus asks who people think he is.  We can be fairly sure Jesus already knew the answers that would be given, but the question was  important to introduce what Jesus wanted to teach them.  The answers were the ones that might be expected:  John the Baptist, Elijah (the prophet who Jews believe must return before the Messiah appears), or one of the other prophets.  These are all logical responses, and reflect Jewish thinking at the time.

            Jesus then asked, “But who do you say that I am?”  Before anyone else had a chance to reply, Peter spoke up.  This was a question he could answer.  “You are the Christ,” he said.  Since “Christ” is the Greek word for “Messiah,” Peter identified Jesus as more than a prophet.  Jesus was the One for whom Israel had waited ever since the nation’s return from Babylon.

            There might have been a moment of silence while Peter’s words sunk in.  Was this true?  Well, of course.  They could all see it.  They had witnessed the miracles.  They had heard Jesus’ words.  They had spent enough time with Jesus to know it had to be true.  They were in the presence of the One who would save Israel, who would right all the old wrongs, who would make the world see that they were indeed God’s chosen people.  We can feel—and share—their excitement.  We understand what this meant to them.  Years upon years of waiting were over.

            And then Jesus threw a wet blanket over their dreams.  He told them he was going to be rejected by the Jewish leaders and killed—executed—but that this was not the end.  After three days he would rise again. We can imagine their chagrin.  They probably didn’t hear anything about resurrection.  Once they heard “killed” their shock didn’t allow them to absorb any more.  But Peter had the answer once more. 

            We can see Peter taking Jesus aside, where the others couldn’t hear.  “Cut it out, Jesus,” he says.  “You’re scaring everyone with this crazy talk.  They can’t kill you.  We won’t let them.  You won’t let them.  They can’t kill the Messiah.  Besides, why would they want to?”

            We know Jesus’ response.  “Get behind me, Satan!  You have the wrong view—the short view.  God has the long view.”  Then, turning to the others, he began to speak of crosses—his cross and theirs, trying to help them understand what following him really meant.

            We might wonder why Jesus responded to Peter’s confession by teaching about his death, but we shouldn’t be surprised.  He was trying to correct their mistaken view of who the Messiah was and what his mission would be.  Gabriel had told Mary that Jesus would save his people from their sins, not that he would make Israel a world power.

            Jesus has the same message for us today.  Jesus isn’t going to right all our wrongs.  Jesus isn’t going to give us victory over our enemies.  Jesus is our Savior, not our military leader or legal representative.  We shouldn’t expect him to do anything that is not in line with bringing in the kingdom of God.  He came, and he comes, to save us from ourselves.

What Do We Expect From Our Messiah

What Do We Expect from Our Messiah?

Mark 8:27-38

            Jesus spent a lot of time in conversation with his disciples as they traveled from place to place.  After all, they were on foot, so they had the opportunity to cover many topics.  We can assume that what we read in the gospels is only a fraction of their conversation.  We can imagine the disciples asking many questions and Jesus providing the answers as they hung on his every word.  We can also imagine the opposite:  Jesus asking questions of the disciples, and using their answers as the basis for teachable moments.

            One such incident is recorded in the eighth chapter of Mark.  As they walk along, or perhaps as they take a break by the side of the road, Jesus asks who people think he is.  We can be fairly sure Jesus already knew the answers that would be given, but the question was  important to introduce what Jesus wanted to teach them.  The answers were the ones that might be expected:  John the Baptist, Elijah (the prophet who Jews believe must return before the Messiah appears), or one of the other prophets.  These are all logical responses, and reflect Jewish thinking at the time.

            Jesus then asked, “But who do you say that I am?”  Before anyone else had a chance to reply, Peter spoke up.  This was a question he could answer.  “You are the Christ,” he said.  Since “Christ” is the Greek word for “Messiah,” Peter identified Jesus as more than a prophet.  Jesus was the One for whom Israel had waited ever since the nation’s return from Babylon.

            There might have been a moment of silence while Peter’s words sunk in.  Was this true?  Well, of course.  They could all see it.  They had witnessed the miracles.  They had heard Jesus’ words.  They had spent enough time with Jesus to know it had to be true.  They were in the presence of the One who would save Israel, who would right all the old wrongs, who would make the world see that they were indeed God’s chosen people.  We can feel—and share—their excitement.  We understand what this meant to them.  Years upon years of waiting were over.

            And then Jesus threw a wet blanket over their dreams.  He told them he was going to be rejected by the Jewish leaders and killed—executed—but that this was not the end.  After three days he would rise again. We can imagine their chagrin.  They probably didn’t hear anything about resurrection.  Once they heard “killed” their shock didn’t allow them to absorb any more.  But Peter had the answer once more. 

            We can see Peter taking Jesus aside, where the others couldn’t hear.  “Cut it out, Jesus,” he says.  “You’re scaring everyone with this crazy talk.  They can’t kill you.  We won’t let them.  You won’t let them.  They can’t kill the Messiah.  Besides, why would they want to?”

            We know Jesus’ response.  “Get behind me, Satan!  You have the wrong view—the short view.  God has the long view.”  Then, turning to the others, he began to speak of crosses—his cross and theirs, trying to help them understand what following him really meant.

            We might wonder why Jesus responded to Peter’s confession by teaching about his death, but we shouldn’t be surprised.  He was trying to correct their mistaken view of who the Messiah was and what his mission would be.  Gabriel had told Mary that Jesus would save his people from their sins, not that he would make Israel a world power.

            Jesus has the same message for us today.  Jesus isn’t going to right all our wrongs.  Jesus isn’t going to give us victory over our enemies.  Jesus is our Savior, not our military leader or legal representative.  We shouldn’t expect him to do anything that is not in line with bringing in the kingdom of God.  He came, and he comes, to save us from ourselves.