The Need for Love

The Need for Love

1 Corinthians 13

            Last January we adopted two dogs.  A member of my congregation texted me that his kid brother’s dog had given birth to puppies; did I know anyone who might want one?

            Well, yes, I did—me!  My wife, much more unsure than I was, went with me (she would never have let me go alone!).  We took two dogs.  We’re out a lot, and we felt this would give them companionship.

            The trouble with puppies is that they grow (That’s not the only problem.  They chew things—anything!—but growing is the problem I want to focus on.).  Our two have grown a lot!  Beau, the male, has gotten especially large, and hasn’t stopped yet.  He’s still got over a year of puppyhood ahead of him.  No telling where this increase in size is going to end.

            Beau and Bella are two of the most affectionate dogs I have ever known.  They can’t wait to be petted.  Beau is particularly in need of affection.  When I pour them fresh water, Bella immediately takes a drink.  Beau is likely to come to me for another touch instead.  At their size being desperate for affection can be problematic.  What do you do with a 60+ pound animal who wants to be a lap dog?

            When it comes to affection there’s not much difference between our dogs and human beings.  We all need all the love we can get.  People go to extraordinary lengths to find affection.  If we can’t find love by doing something good, we will choose antisocial behavior if that is the only way we can get attention.  Some of us latch onto possessions as a source of love.  Even though inanimate objects can’t love us back we lavish affection on them, loving things that can’t love us in return.  Anything—anything—for love.

            The early apostles understood the force of love.  In his gospels and letters John emphasizes Jesus’ love, letting his readers know that God is love, that God’s love is made visible in Jesus Christ, and that God loves all humanity more than we can ever love each other. 

            Paul thought love so important that he called it “a more excellent way,” (1 Cor. 12:31), and wrote a whole chapter about it.  1 Corinthians 13 is referred to as “the love chapter.”  It is often used at weddings, and sometimes at funerals.  But if we limit its use to these occasions we miss its main point. 

            Paul is aware that the Corinthian Christians do not love as deeply as they should.  He wants the church to know that love must be its central characteristic.  If people don’t love each other—fervently, constantly, overwhelmingly—God is not working in them and cannot work through them.  Love is the essential element in their relationship with God and with each other.  Jesus said the two most important commandments are to love God and love each other.  Paul is echoing Jesus’ message in this chapter.

            As desperately as we need to receive love, we also need to give love.  Our dogs prove this every time we have a petting session.  They snuggle up to my legs, getting as close to me as they can, stepping on my feet, almost knocking me over in the process.  They do everything they can to lick me.  I’m not fond of being licked by dogs, but I realize this is their attempt to give me as much affection as I am giving them.  As annoying as I find it, I don’t object.  They need to express their love in return for the love they receive from me.

            “So now faith, hope and love abide,” Paul says, “but the greatest of these is love.”

Amen!

Vacation

Ken will be on vacation for the next two weeks.  His next post will be on June 30. 

The Idolatry of Covetousness

The Idolatry of Covetousness

Luke 12:13-21

            Four years of teaching about the religions of the world taught me a lot.  I hope my students learned half as much.  A teacher is never sure what, or how much his/her students learn.  We can test them as much as we want; but tests never tell us what they learn, only what we make them remember to pass the test.  Students are accurate judges of what they have learned.  The same can be said for teachers and what they learn through teaching, although neither group may be able to fully comprehend what they have learned until years later.

            After the obligatory opening chapter (an introduction which tells students why they should study the religions of the world), the textbook looks at indigenous religions of North America and Africa.    Despite the geographical difference there are many similarities. 

            One of the most interesting similarities is the use of story theology.  Lessons in right and wrong are embedded in what we would refer to as myths—stories that teach a young person how to behave so as to be accepted by his/her society and be acceptable to that society’s deities.

            The use of story theology can also be found in the ancient cultures of the Middle East. The well-known stories in Hebrew Scripture are theological stories, designed to teach people how to be accepted by their society and be acceptable to their society’s deities.  We do not call these stories myths, but accept them as absolute truth—which they probably are not.

            When Jesus told parables he was continuing the story theology tradition.  He was not inventing a new way of teaching.  He followed in the footsteps of all those teachers from many cultures who had told stories—parables—for ages before him.

            In today’s reading we find a man asking Jesus to give up his role as teacher and be a judge.  The man wants Jesus to secure an inheritance for him that his brother seems to be withholding.  Jesus refuses to be led into the trap of deciding which brother has the best claim to the inheritance.  Instead, he warns the man and the other listeners to beware the temptation of covetousness.  Then he tells them a parable. 

            A rich man’s fields produce a bumper crop, so large that his barns will not hold all the produce.  He tears down his barns and builds new ones, big enough to hold all his crops.  Having accomplished this, the man sits back in his recliner to enjoy his bounty, only to have God say, “Fool!  This night your soul is required of you, and the things you have prepared, whose will they be?” Whose indeed? 

            Was the man’s soul required of him because of his greed, or was that nature taking its course?  Since it’s only a story, we are not told.  Was his death God’s judgment for his foolishness?  This is only a story; we’ll never know.  Could the man have avoided death by saying, “Once my [current] barns are full I will give the surplus to those who are in need?”  Since it’s not important to the story, we’re not told.

            What we do know is that covetousness over the success of his crops led to idolatry.  The man held his possessions in higher esteem than he held his neighbors’ needs.  He was not personally responsible for his good fortune.  Nothing he did caused the bumper crop.  God had given the increase through ideal growing conditions.  He owed God thanks by enriching those around him whose need was greater than his.  He failed in that duty.

            The point of the story is that all we have comes from God, and God’s law says we owe God thanks for our success.  How do we show our thanks?  By sharing our bounty with those whose fields are less productive than ours.  Then, if our souls are required of us, we will know we leave behind a world that is better for us having lived in it.

God's Plans

God’s Plans

Genesis 50:15-21

            The trouble began when Jacob gave Joseph a coat, a garment more beautiful than anything his older brothers owned.  As M. Thomas Norwood, Jr. says, Joseph is strutting around in a garment too classy to work in while his brothers are working up a sweat in “jeans and dirty T-shirts.”

            Everything goes downhill from there.  Joseph has a couple of dreams that make it look as if his brothers and parents will bow to him.  This does not make for a happy family.  When an opportunity presents itself, the brothers sell Joseph to a passing caravan, which in turn sells him to a high official in the Egyptian court.  Joseph winds up in jail for refusing to have an affair with his owner’s wife, but is rescued to become Number Two in Pharaoh’s government.

            Eventually, Joseph’s dreams come true.  His brothers, fearful that he might harm them for their ill-treatment, fall on their faces before him, trying to save their necks.  Joseph utters the words which sum up his entire life: “As for you, you meant evil against me, bur God meant it for good…”  Joseph has forgiven them, but lets them know their fate is ultimately in God’s hands.  As for Joseph: “I will provide for you and your [families].”

            There was a time, many years ago, when I was in a work situation that turned out badly.  Admittedly, like Joseph, some of it was my fault:  I assumed I knew more than I did, and put myself in an untenable situation.  My supervisor decided the school would be better off without me, and let me go. 

The next few years were difficult, but eventually I wound up with a better job in a much better educational setting.  I always hoped I might run into my old supervisor and share with him Joseph’s words to his brothers.  The opportunity never presented itself—probably for the best.  Sometimes I’m not smart enough to keep my mouth shut.  I hope I’m learning to do a better job of that.

You may have been in a similar situation.  You know how difficult life can be when everything seems to be going against you.  You are sure everyone from God on down has only your worst interests in mind.  There is no light at the end of this tunnel, only unending darkness.

At some point, the light appears, and you can see better times ahead.  Often the final result is the best situation you have ever been in.  When you look back you may, like Joseph, see God’s hand at work even in the darkest times. 

Something like this happened to me.  Many things I learned during the lean years helped make me a better administrator when that career finally opened up for me.  I saw what bad leaders did, and their affect on the people who worked for them, and was able to avoid many of those pitfalls.

God had something like this in mind when he said to Jeremiah (29:10-11), “For I know the plans I have for you, … plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.” 

Jeremiah was despondent.  His nation was in exile.  Those who remained in Judea turned their backs on him.  They hadn’t listened to his warning, and now they ignored his teaching.  But God had everything under control.  God knew how this was going to work out:  for Jeremiah’s (and Judea’s) welfare and not for evil.

Paul said much the same thing in Romans 8:28. “We know that in everything God works for good with those who love him, who are called according to his purpose.” 

Amen!

Two Questions

Two Questions

Luke 10:25-37

Luke’s story of the Good Samaritan raises two questions: 

Am I my neighbor’s keeper?  Who is my neighbor?  

Both questions are answered explicitly, the first in the conversation between Jesus and the lawyer.  The second, raised by the lawyer in an attempt to clarify the law, is answered by Jesus’ parable.  Even though the answers are obvious, they invite examination.

            When I was teaching college classes I often used the expression, “That’s a teacher question!”  I meant that the question had an obvious answer (usually “yes,” or “no”), but an answer that led to a host of other questions with not so simple answers.  I see “Am I my neighbor’s keeper?” as a teacher question.  The lawyer gives the correct answer: “Yes.”

            The lawyer asks Jesus a rabbinical question:  What shall I do to inherit eternal life?  Luke says the question was asked to put Jesus to the test.   Does Luke mean he was trying to trap Jesus?  This happens frequently.  Scribes, Pharisees, and Sadducees try to catch Jesus making a statement for which they can condemn him as a heretic or dissuade people from following him. 

            It is also possible that the lawyer was trying to engage Jesus in the kind of debate any expert on Judaic law would expect.  One expert would pose a question; the other would answer, and the debate would begin.  I’m willing to give the lawyer the benefit of the doubt, especially since other evangelists present this story in a less confrontational way.

            Jesus answers in rabbinic fashion; he asks a question in return: “What does the law say?”  The lawyer’s answer is interesting.  Instead of quoting one or more of the Ten Commandments (the heart of Torah law), he quotes Deuteronomy 6:5 (“You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind”), and adds, “and your neighbor as yourself.  His answer is the heart of the Ten Commandments, and of Jesus’ message and ministry.

            Clearly, if we love our neighbors as we love ourselves we must be our neighbors’ keeper.  If I treat myself to a new item of clothing, I should make sure my neighbor is well-dressed.  If I enjoy a good meal at a fine restaurant, I should make sure my neighbor is well-fed.  Sound familiar?  You’ll find similar thoughts in Matthew 25:31-46.

            The lawyer doesn’t want to end the discussion so he asks, “Who is my neighbor?”  Good question.  Logical question.  Jesus answers with the parable of the Good Samaritan.  This is also in keeping with rabbinic teaching.  Western preachers make a point then use stories to illustrate that point and bring it home to their congregations.  Middle Eastern preachers/teachers tell stories (parables) then demonstrate how the principle flows from the story.  The two styles are exactly opposite.  I wonder sometimes if my preaching would be more effective if, like Jesus, I used the Middle Eastern approach.

            At the end of the parable Jesus asks, “Which of these three, do you think, proved to be a neighbor to the man who fell among the robbers?”  The lawyer knows the answer: “The one who showed him mercy.”

            Jesus’ point is clear:  anyone in need is my neighbor.  Race doesn’t matter.  Gender doesn’t matter.  Religion doesn’t matter.  Political beliefs don’t matter.  Sexual orientation doesn’t matter.  What matters is need.  Jesus demonstrated this throughout his ministry, addressing people’s needs wherever and whenever he found them.

Jesus says to us, as he said to the lawyer, “You go and do likewise.”

Who Is Mary Madalene?

Who Is Mary Magdalene?

John 20:11-18

            For the past two thousand years Mary Magdalene has been a center of conroversy.  Accused of living a less-than-honorable lifestyle, suspected of being married to the earthly Jesus, and perhaps eased out of a leadership position in the early church, she has risen above all that to be recognized as a role model for Christian discipleship.

            We know little about Mary from Scripture. 

Luke tells us (8:2) that she was one of the women who traveled with Jesus throughout Galilee after he rid her of seven demons.

Matthew (27:56) and Mark (15:40) place her with other women at the crucifixion.  She also followed the funeral procession to Gethsemane (Matthew 27:61; Mark 15:47)

All four evangelists tell us that Mary went to the tomb the first Easter morning.  She is the only one mentioned by all four.  John (20:1-10) mentions only Mary Magdalene.

How could so much controversy come from so little written evidence?

Let’s deal first with the most damning charge against her:  that she was a prostitute.  Pope Gregory the Great (540-604) decided that Mary Magdalene was also Mary of Bethany (sister of Lazarus and Martha), who figures in John’s version of the story about Jesus’ anointing.  Luke’s version (7:36-50) says the woman who anointed Jesus was a sinner.  Prostitution was the most common way for a woman to be labeled a sinner in the first century.  By combining Luke’s version with John’s, and Mary Magdalene with Mary of Bethany, Gregory decided that Mary Magdalene was a prostitute who repented, anointed Jesus, and became a follower.  He used Luke’s story about Mary’s seven devils to bolster his decision.

I read somewhere that Gregory was seeking a female success story from Jesus’ ministry and decided this was it.  In addition to making assumptions that are unwarranted he overlooked one important piece of evidence that negates his conclusion.  Mary Magdalene was from Magdala, in Galilee—that’s where she got her name.  Bethany is in Judea, near Jerusalem.  It’s difficult to believe the same woman would have been identified with two such widely separated locations.

The speculation that Jesus and Mary were married is based primarily on the fact that most Jewish men were married.  There is no proof anywhere in the gospels that Jesus and Mary were a couple.  The story goes farther.  It claims that at the time of the crucifixion Mary was pregnant.  After the ascension she was taken to southern France by Joseph of Arimathea, where she gave birth to a child (some say female, some male) who became the founder of the Merovingian line of kings.  It’s an interesting story, but more legend than fact.

The other line of speculation at least has the ring of possibility.  It states that Jesus chose Mary to be the leader of the movement after his resurrection.  After the ascension the men, led by Peter, decided they did not want a woman to be in charge, so they squeezed her out.  In opposition, we have the written record of Jesus telling Peter, “on this rock I will build my church,” and Peter’s take-charge sermon in Acts 2.  It is possible, however, that once Mary Magdalene had been pushed aside, the written record could have been adjusted in Peter’s favor.

Where does all this leave us?  Of course, everyone is free to believe what he or she wants, but none of these stories are based on fact.  They are interesting, and since we know so little about Mary, the field is open to all kinds of speculation.  Perhaps the safest route is to accept Mary for what we know her to be, a faithful follower and disciple of Jesus Christ, and the first person of either gender to announce the good news of the resurrection.

Jesus Himself Drew Near

Jesus Himself Drew Near

Luke 24:13-35

            I’ve written on this story before, but it is so rich that I return to it often and always find something new.

            Some years ago Arch Wiggins and George Marshall wrote a song for church choir titled Jesus Himself Drew Near.  It began:

I set out a pilgrim sad at heart, to walk a lonely road;

Doubt had marred my simple trusting, doubt a future ill forbode.

And as I pondered o’er my grief, my shattered hope and unbelief,

A stranger to my soul’s relief drew near and walked with me

Jesus himself drew near, Jesus himself drew near;

When alone on the road, oppressed by my load,

Jesus himself drew near and walked with me.

                The song is based on the story of the Emmaus walk, but with one difference.  It comes from a theological base which emphasizes an individual relationship with Jesus Christ.  While that is necessary—each of us must have our own spiritual journey—Luke tells a story about two disciples traveling the road together.  We are told that one of them is named Cleopas.  We do not know the name of the other disciple.  There is speculation that this disciple could be Cleopas’ wife.  There are many good reasons why this could be true.

            We know from Luke’s gospel that many women followed Jesus, some of them all the way from Galilee to Jerusalem.  John (19:25) lists Mary the wife of Clopas as one of the women at the crucifixion.  It would have been more likely that a husband and wife would have been living together than that two men would have been sharing a house.  We can speculate all we want, of course, but we’ll never know for sure this side of the grave.

            Let’s assume that this was a married couple, Cleopas and Mary, traveling home to Emmaus on the evening of the resurrection.  They had been with the other disciples since the triumphal entry, had shared the joy of that occasion, the thrill of hearing their Master teach in the temple, the horror of Thursday and Friday, the depression of Saturday, and the uncertain joy of Sunday.  Now, emotionally exhausted, they want nothing more than to be at home, where they can be in familiar surroundings.

            As they walk they discuss the events, not only of the past week, but of their time with Jesus.  They want to believe he is alive, but it doesn’t make sense.  People don’t die and come back to life.  Oh, yes, there are the stories of Elijah and Elisha raising people from the dead; but that was long ago.  Jesus raised Lazarus and the young man from Nain, but that was Jesus.  Who was there to raise him?

            Then a stranger approaches them.  He hears their conversation and joins in.  Once he begins speaking he doesn’t stop, but cites familiar Scripture passages that show them how everything that happened was part of the prophecy which had long been part of their tradition.  They understand now what happened to Jesus, why it had to happen, and that Jesus was indeed alive.

            Arriving at their destination they invite him to share the evening meal with them.  As an honored guest he is given the privilege of breaking the bread.  And they know him.  And he vanishes.

            “Didn’t our hearts burn within us,” they say, remembering how they felt as this now-familiar figure spoke to them.  They heard God’s truth, and their inner beings responded, reaching out to the words that changed their lives.

            Jesus himself drew near to them, shared words of hope with them, broke bread with them; and now they couldn’t wait to share the good news.  Jesus Christ is alive!