Working Things Out

Working Things Out

Romans 8:28

            Life gets complicated.  It begins simple enough.  When we’re babies our needs are basic.  We need to eat.  We need to sleep.  We need to be changed.  We need to be touched and held.  Perhaps the most complicated need is to be loved, but even that seems easily achieved by most little ones.

            As we grow, our needs become more complex.  We still need food, sleep, clothing—and most of all love and affection—but we also need things to occupy our attention:  toys, books, bikes, computers, phones, cars, jobs, houses—you get the point.  Eventually we reach the place where our needs become simple once more.  We need someone to care for us much as we did at the beginning of life. 

            The time when our needs become more and more complex is the longest part of our life.  Complicating matters is the problem most people have of trying to separate needs from wants.  Even as children we say, “I need…” when we mean, “I want…” 

Sorting through the complicating issues of life is what we must do in order to become adults.  Deciding the difference between basic needs, less important needs, and wants is almost never easy.  Choosing the right path from the several which are open to us can leave us frustrated and nervous.  Have we made the right choice?  Should we have chosen B rather than A, or C rather than D?  How will our choices play out?  What will be the consequences?  Where will our chosen path lead us?

Rather than letting the need to choose freeze us in place, we forge ahead, hoping we have done the right thing, made the right decision—trying to look into the future.  When we express our worry or frustration, someone is likely to say, “Welcome to the real world.”

If we think our decisions are problematic, if we believe our choices are difficult, imagine the first century world of Mary and Joseph.  Mary was a young girl—early teens—about to be married to Joseph.  We have no idea how old Joseph was.  One train of belief says he was much older than Mary, but we have no way of knowing.  The Bible is silent about Joseph’s age.  The gospel writers didn’t think it was important.  Young or old, he was caught in a web of circumstances that were difficult to understand and even more difficult to work his way through.

Imagine your fiancé saying to you, “I’m pregnant.  No, I haven’t been with another man.  An angel told me I was going to have a son—God’s Son.  I know it’s hard to believe, but it’s true.”

What would you do?  Joseph decided to do the practical—and for that time the kind thing, and end the betrothal quietly.  Then an angel appeared to him and told him he had been chosen to be the earthly father of this heavenly child.

Imagine yourself in Mary’s shoes.  An angel tells you that you are going to give birth to the Savior of the world.  You—an ordinary young girl, on the verge of womanhood, have been chosen for the highest honor ever bestowed on a woman. 

What would you do?  Mary did the almost unimaginable thing.  She said “Yes!”

Here are these two people, faced with the most unusual pregnancy in the history of the world, trying to adjust to what in that culture could be a damning situation, accepting the assignment, and having faith that all would be well.

And all was well, because all things work together for good to those who love God, who are called to fulfill God’s purpose.

Love Came Down at Christmas

Love Came Down at Christmas

1 John 4:7-12

            “See what kind of love the Father has given to us, that we should be called children of God; and so we are.”

            John gives us these words in the third chapter of his first letter.  The entire letter is a love fest.  The word love pops up every few verses.  God loves us.  We ought to love God.  We demonstrate our love for God by loving others.  I once had a minister friend tell me that John’s version of the gospel was difficult to preach on a frequent basis because all he talked about was love.

            And yet, what else motivated God’s decision to send Jesus to earth?  What other emotion could we claim as the basis for the incarnation?  Compassion?  Perhaps: but isn’t compassion motivated by love?  Certainly not sympathy.  Sympathy doesn’t carry enough emotional weight for such an auspicious event.  Not anger, for obvious reasons.  Pity?  I don’t believe God would send the Messiah to such a horrific end out of pity.  It had to be love—love for all of humankind, certainly, but more specifically, love for each of us individually.  “In this the love of God was made manifest among us,” says John (4:9), “that God sent his only Son into the world so that we might live through him.”

            John learned the height and depth of God’s love from Jesus.  “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.”  You remember—John 3:16. Jesus didn’t stop there, but went on to say, “For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.”  How could anyone love more than that?  How could anyone demonstrate love more fully?

            We don’t know how old Jesus was when he became self-aware—that is, when he knew who he was and why he was here?  He showed evidence of self-knowledge at the age of 12, Luke tells us, when his parents found him in the temple with the teachers.  We can be pretty sure he didn’t have this self-awareness as a tiny baby lying in a manger.  There are legends of Jesus’ early years that don’t ring true because of the level of self-awareness they require to be true.

            What we do know is that by the time he began his public ministry he knew who he was, what his purpose was on earth, and what his end would be.  All of this was secondary to the single most important characteristic of Jesus’ life and ministry—self-giving love.

            John tells us that God is love (4:8).  He tells us in the prologue to his gospel (1:18) that no one has ever seen God, then repeats these words in this letter (4:12).  He makes it clear that those who saw Jesus saw God, for Jesus was God in human form—God, walking, talking, healing, reconciling, shaping, molding—loving.

            But John says something more, something important for those who call themselves Christians.  In 4:12, John says, “No one has ever seen God; if we love one another God abides in us and his love is perfected in us.”

            There you have it!  Here is the end product of God’s love for humankind.  God is love.  God sent Jesus out of love to show us what love looked like and to teach us how to love.  If we love one another we become demonstrators of God’s love.  We can’t be love without showing love, and we can’t claim to love God unless we love those around us with the same love God does.

            “Little children,” John says (3:18), “let us not love in word or talk, but in deed and in truth.” 

This is how God loves. 

This is how Jesus loves.

 Can we love any differently?”

And the Word Became Flesh

And the Word Became Flesh

John1:1-14

            These words have become so familiar that I’m afraid they’ve lost their impact.  This is a too-common occurrence.  Words that should mean something no longer do.  We’ve heard them, read them, said them so often that we use them without thinking about the depth of their meaning.  The prime example is the Lord’s Prayer.  We say it by rote, not paying attention to what we’re asking for.  These words should send shudders through us, for what we’re asking from God is not only life-changing but also culture-changing.  Here’s a challenge:  read the Lord’s Prayer.  Pay close attention to every syllable. Think about what you’re saying.  My guess is you’ll never be able to say it by rote again.

            John is testifying to what he has experienced.  This is not something he’s heard about or read about.  He was there—there from the beginning.  Jesus called him—personally—while he and his brother were engaged in their work as fishermen.  He followed Jesus from the Sea of Galilee to the cross.  If we believe his gospel, he was the only disciple at the cross.  So he was there from the beginning to the end.

            What does John tell us?

            Jesus is the Word.  In the beginning, God spoke, and it was so.  The universe came into being.  Word became action. Jesus was the Word through which creation happened.  As Paul says so profoundly in Colossians, all things were made through him and for him.

            Jesus is the Light.  Jesus says so in John’s gospel.  Other gospel writers tell us Jesus said we are the light, but doesn’t that happen only after Jesus gives us the power to be the light?  No matter how bright we are, we only reflect light—Jesus, the true light of the world, who enlightens everyone.  Even John the Baptist was reflected light.  John the Baptist (John the apostle tells us) “was not that light [italics mine], but came to bear witness to that light.”  Like John the Baptist, we are sent into the world to bear witness to the light that is Jesus Christ.

            Jesus is the Word become flesh.  At creation the Word became action.  At the incarnation the word became flesh.  In the words of Thomas a` Kempis, “That God, the Son of God should take our mortal form for mortal’s sake.” For our sakes the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, that “whosoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life (John 3:16).”

            John saw all this—and he was not alone.  “And we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth.”  John speaks for all the gospel writers, for all the apostles, for all Jesus’ followers—everyone who walked with him from Galilee through to the resurrection when he says, “we beheld his glory.”

            And so we have Jesus:

                        The Word,

                        The Light,

                        The Truth,

                        The Life,

                        Flesh, and bone and sinew, and muscle—the Word inexplicably become human.

            Thomas a` Kempis says, “O love, how deep, how broad, how high.  How passing thought and fantasy.”  We should be so overwhelmed by these words that we stand in awe at this gift, that God should take our mortal form so we might live with God.  How can we not be amazed, awestruck—speechless at these words?   “And the Word became flesh.”  Amen, and amen.

Endless Forgiveness

Endless Forgiveness

Matthew 18:21-35

            Peter Ustinov is remembered more for the movie characters he created than for his wise sayings.  Nevertheless, he spoke truth when he said, “Love is an act of endless forgiveness.” 

            This is the lesson Jesus wanted the disciple Peter to learn.  Peter comes to Jesus with what he believes is a very generous statement about forgiveness.  He says if he forgives his brother seven times that should be more than enough.  After all, how many times should you forgive someone who sins against you?  “Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me.” 

Makes sense, doesn’t it?  Jesus says, “Not even close.”

            Jesus has a very different view of forgiveness.  He tells Peter to forgive not seven times, but seventy times seven.  There have been many interpretations of what this number means, but the one I like best (perhaps because of my diminishing memory) is that before you’ve reached that number (70X7=490) you will have lost count and have to start over.

            Just to make sure we understand, Jesus tells us a parable about forgiveness.  A master forgives a servant a huge debt, one that would have crushed even most wealthy men.  A talent was about twenty years’ wages for a common laborer.  You do the math. I think Jesus was trying to make the amount owed so outrageous that Peter and others who hear the story would gasp at the size of the debt.   

            The forgiven servant refuses to forgive another servant who owed him pocket change compared to the debt that had been cancelled for him.  The master, hearing how ungrateful the forgiven servant had been, sends him to debtor’s prison until he can pay all that he owes.

            While Peter’s question concerned the number of times he should forgive, and Jesus answered with a parable about amounts to be forgiven, the lesson is the same:  forgive as God has forgiven you.  We know that God always forgives us, whether that forgiveness involves frequency or amount.  If God’s forgiveness is endless, how can ours be anything less? 

            Forgiveness is one of the central themes of Scripture.  God forgives Adam and Eve.  They have to suffer the consequences of their sin (most people do), but they are forgiven.  God forgives Jacob, David—even the entire nation of Israel.  Jesus forgives Peter, Paul—even those responsible for his execution.  No human being could possibly live up to the standard of forgiveness God has set.

Moreover, God forgets.  Our sins are dropped “in the sea of God’s forgetfulness,” says a chorus we sang when I was growing up.  I can speak only for myself, but I know that even with my diminishing memory I can’t forget as God does. 

One of the most beautiful acts of forgiveness occurs in Luke 15, in the parable of the prodigal sons.  In his analysis of that story, Kenneth Bailey points out how the two sons humiliate their father by their selfish behavior.  The younger son treats his father as if he were already dead, then returns home after squandering a third of the family fortune.  The older son refuses to attend the banquet celebrating the triumph of his father’s love.  In the face of behavior so rude that it violates the fifth Commandment (the punishment for which could be death by stoning), the father continues to forgive.

Forgive seven times?  Not even close.  If we forgive as God has forgiven us, we won’t even keep track.  We’ll forgive, and forgive, and forgive—endlessly.  Don’t we pray, “Our Father, who art in heaven…forgive us our sins as we forgive those who sin against us?”

Be Prepared

Be Prepared

Matthew 24:36

            If you want the whole story, read Matthew 24 and 25.  Chapter 24 begins with the disciples looking in awe at the buildings of Herod’s temple.  Jesus comments on the transitory nature of those buildings.  The disciples ask him when the end will be.  Jesus goes into a long prophetic discourse on the end times: what the disciples can expect, and how to prepare.  This two-chapter teaching, coming near the end of Matthew’s gospel, acts as a counterbalance to the Sermon on the Mount, which Matthew places at the beginning of Jesus’ ministry.

            While Confucianism is more of an ethical system than a religion, Master Kong Fu Zi had much to say about spiritual things.  One of his disciples once asked about serving ghosts and spirits.  The Master said, “When we are not yet able to serve fellow humans, why worry about serving the ghosts and spirits.”  The disciple asked about death.  The Master replied, “When we do not yet know enough about life, why worry about death?”  Alexander Pope gives the same advice in his Essay on Man when he says, “the proper study of mankind is man.”

            In other words, don’t worry about the things you can’t do anything about.  God knows the future, and will share it with us on a “need to know” basis.

            Isn’t this what Jesus is saying to his disciples?  “Look!  This is going to be a terrible time.  There will be war, famines, earthquakes [Jesus might well have added floods, tornadoes and hurricanes].  You can’t do anything about these things.  You can’t prevent them, and you can’t stop them once they start.  They are going to happen whether you worry or not, so don’t bother worrying.  God’s got this all planned out.  Everything will happen when it will happen.  What you must do is be prepared.”

Jesus tells his disciples (including us) what he means by “Be prepared!”  To illustrate, he tells them threeparables. 

The first is The Lesson of the Fig Tree.  “When the leaves of the tree begin to show, you know summer is coming.  When all these events happen you will know the end is near.”  The problem is that wars, famine and earthquakes have been a part of human history forever.  How are we to know which ones foretell the end?  Best advice:  Be prepared and don’t worry about which events count.  God knows and that’s enough.

Later, Jesus tells The Parable of the Ten Bridesmaids and The Parable of the Talents.  The story of the bridesmaids tells us to be prepared because the Bridegroom can return at any time.  Everything we need should be at the ready.  We must keep our lamps trimmed and burning.  The Parable of the Talents goes a step farther.  We are not only to be prepared for the end, we are also to use the talents God has given us. 

In several other parables scattered throughout the gospels Jesus tells his followers to be found working.  We get a hint of this in Matthew 24, where Jesus says that when the end comes women will be grinding flour and men will be out in the fields.  Even those women who are not housewives, and those men who are not farmers should be found at work—and not just any work.  We are to do the work of the kingdom.  That’s the message of the Parable of the Talents. 

It is also the message of the concluding part of this passage, the description of the Final Judgment.  When the Great Judge comes, we’ll be directed to whichever group our work—or lack of it—indicates.  Until that time Jesus’ message is clear.  Don’t worry about things you can’t control.  Be prepared.  Work for Jethe kingdom as if your life depends on it.

Because it does.

Extending Life

Extending life

John 3:16-17

            We do all sorts of things to prolong life.  We value life—at least our own—enough to want to make it last as long as possible.  Yes, I know, many of us cling to life-shortening habits like smoking, drinking too much alcohol, overeating, couch potato-ing, drugging ourselves.  Still, we want to live as long as our lifestyle permits.  This causes a medical dilemma, as our ability to keep someone breathing almost indefinitely blurs the line between life and death.

            Those who concern themselves with the quality as well as the quantity of life watch their diet, get enough sleep, exercise, limit alcohol intake, and try to keep unhealthy substances out of their bodies.  They want to live life fully as well as live life long.

            A recent study conducted at Vanderbilt University offers another method for prolonging life—church attendance.  Marino Bruce, one of the primary authors, is a social and behavioral scientist, a professor at Vanderbilt, and a Baptist minister—all of which contribute to his interest in church attendance and prolonging life.

            Bruce and his co-primary author, Keith Norris, a professor at the David Geffen School of Medicine at UCLA, led nine other co-authors in conducting and reporting the study.  Their data was gathered from the National Health and Nutrition Examination Survey, publicly available from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention’s National Center for Health Statistics.  I mention this to demonstrate the validity of the data.  This was not some survey conducted through a questionnaire devised by amateurs and administered to some random list of people.  It was data collected from a broad spectrum of the American public by professional researchers.

Bruce, Norris and their fellow authors were interested in three parameters:  worship attendance, mortality and stress levels.  They found that middle-aged adults, 40-65, who attend a house of worship regularly, reduce their mortality by 55 percent.  We know that doesn’t mean they reduce their chances of dying by that percentage, but rather that they have a greater chance of living longer.

Those of us who believe life continues after death know that attendance at church is only part of the story.  Christians believe there is more to life than what we experience here on earth, just as there is more to religion than sitting in a worship setting for an hour or so once a week. 

One of the most intriguing stories in the New Testament involves a Pharisee named Nicodemus.  John’s gospel tells us he came to see Jesus at night.  Whether Nicodemus chose that time because he wanted to keep his visit a secret, or because he thought he might claim more of Jesus’ attention at night we don’t know.  What we know is that he wanted to more fully understand Jesus and his message.  He was already impressed with Jesus’ miracles and his teaching, but he wanted to know more.

Jesus shared with him one of the most famous messages in the Bible, John 3:16: “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, that whosoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.”  This verse, and the next, which helps explain and clarify the concept, demonstrate the availability of God’s grace to anyone who sincerely believes in the lordship of Jesus Christ.

So—as much as church attendance might help prolong life here on earth, that is only the beginning of its value.  When that attendance leads to a meaningful relationship with God through Jesus Christ, life is prolonged even longer.

Infinitely longer.

Serving Jesus in Disguise

Serving Jesus in Disguise

Hebrews 13:1-2

You might misinterpret the title of this column and think I mean we ought to wear a disguise when we’re serving Jesus.  Let me share a couple of stories to demonstrate what I really want to say.

Today’s Scripture passage refers to Abraham’s story.  One day three visitors showed up at the encampment where Abraham’s tents were pitched.  Middle Eastern hospitality demands that guests be welcomed and served a meal.  This is especially true in the wilderness where nomadic shepherds like Abraham still live today.

Abraham was an excellent host.  He did not fail in his duty to be hospitable to the strangers.  He ordered water to be brought to wash their feet.  He told Sarah to bake three flour cakes.  He chose a calf from the herd and had his servants prepare it.  When all was ready he stood by respectfully while the visitors ate. 

Although Abraham did not know it at first, the three men were angels, sent from God with a message.  Sarah, much advanced in years and supposedly barren, would conceive a child.  She and Abraham would have a son.  And have a son she did!  About a year later she gave birth to Isaac, the second of the three patriarchs of the Jewish faith (Abraham, Isaac, Jacob).

Centuries later, the writer of Hebrews reminded his readers of this story when he said, “Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.”  Abraham had no idea when he offered food and water that he was entertaining the Lord.  He was just doing what he felt was expected of him.

The other story occurs many centuries later, and involves not a patriarch of the Jewish faith, but a Christian saint.  His name was Francis, and he lived during the 13^th century.  He was born into a well-to-do family, and for many years enjoyed the good life.  Eventually he came to know Christ and dedicated his life to following Jesus’ teaching.

The story which illustrates our Scripture lesson began one day when Francis was riding his horse.  Francis had an intense fear of lepers, as did most people at that time.  Jesus had told him while he was praying that what he found offensive would in the future bring him great pleasure and joy.  He saw a leper approaching, ringing the little bell that all with his condition carried, warning healthy people to keep their distance. 

Francis wanted to turn and ride away, but something prevented him.  He dismounted, pressed a coin into the leper’s hand, and kissed the hand.  In return the leper gave him the kiss of peace.  The next day Francis took a large sum of money to a residence where many lepers lived.  He distributed the money freely, kissing each man as he did so.  What had formerly caused Francis to shudder now brought him sweetness and delight.

One (probably) apocryphal ending to this story says that, as Francis rode away from the first leper, he looked back and saw Jesus.  This part of the story doesn’t have to be true in order for us to see the point.  Whether or not the leper was Jesus in disguise, the man was one of the “least of these” we have been commanded to serve in Jesus’ name.  When we serve our brothers and sisters, and do so in the name of Christ, we are serving him.

This is the point of Matthew’s description of the Final Judgment in the 25^th chapter of his gospel.  Where the Judge places us will depend on how well we have served others in Jesus’ name.  St. Francis learned how sweet that service can be.  So must we.