Ramblings

"In the World but not of the World" - 5/16/2021

When you pray for another, what do you pray for?  For me, the context of that person is important, their story and concerns for example. Is it for health? Healing? Reconciliation?  Safe Travels? Today Jesus is praying for us and his prayer may not be what we consider the best prayer for our context or is it?

Before we review the Gospel, I would suggest we look at it through the prism of a pivotal 20th century book: H. Richard Niebuhr Christ, and Culture, Amazon Book Link published seventy years ago in 1951.  Written within the living memory of World War II, the birth of the nuclear age in the devastation of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, genocide and the holocaust, Niebuhr traced five different faithful responses as they relate to the world or “culture.”  Niebuhr suggested each has strengths and weaknesses. 

Let me give a simplistic overview of the book.  One faithful response of Christians is resistance to the world --- Christ against culture. The best way for Christians to live their lives faithfully is to be separate from the world --- a clear alternative, think the Amish for example.  The second response is for Christians to point to the agreements between Christ and world --- Christ of culture.  Think of it as the faithful golden rule: Treat others as you want to be treated. The third major response Niebuhr noted was a combination that incorporates insights from those first two views, what Niebuhr calls Christ above culture.  Within the third framework are three variations: a synthetic type that sees Christ as the fulfillment of the world.  Although the world may not be there yet, it is evolving toward a point where Christ and the world are one.  Another variation is one where we have an ongoing tension between Christ and world.  Think of this faithful response as defined by symptom, constant friction and Christians being at that point.  The final variation noted by Niebuhr is Christians as Jesus as the converter of culture and society.  Bring all to Christ and the world will be redeemed.

Although Niebuhr highlighted what ostensibly seems all as largely political his framework can fit all manner of situations in our faithful response to our lives in this world.  For example, consider our health.  How much should we engage with science, technology, and healing?  There are some Christians who would consider anything outside of prayer to be less than faithful, whereas some would consider prayer to be one among many faithful responses to healing.  And others who would not consider prayer with the assumption that God permeates all science and the healing arts.  I am not debating the faithfulness or lack their off in each response, rather Niebuhr gave us a framework to what he termed “Christ and Culture.”

Within that in mind, I ask you now to turn to our Gospel; The Gospel of John has Jesus praying.  And what is Jesus praying for, simply put Jesus is praying for his followers, for his disciples --- for us.  But what he prays for is not health or wealth, or an easy road, or even an increase or discovery of faith in this section.

Jesus begins this portion reminding us the listeners that we the disciples belong to God but were given to Jesus. Therefore, as Jesus prepares to die on the cross, the believers, the ones who “know,” merit the focus of his attention.  Interestingly the disciples’ faithfulness emboldens Jesus to “ask on their behalf” --- to pray to God with their needs, specifically in mind.  And what does Jesus specifically have in mind?

Basically, we have two specific requests: the first pertains to strength and comfort as Jesus prepares to leave to return to God.  The second refers to the relationship between these disciples and this world as Christ’s disciples, living “in the know” of the message of Jesus Christ.

 In the first request is the good news of the mystery of the Trinity, that Jesus is reminding us that Jesus shares completely in God's divine sovereignty --- all that is subject to God is also subject to Jesus --- “all mine is yours, and yours are mine.”  Until this time the unity that defines that relationship between God and Jesus has only been perceived through one perspective --- Jesus was still physically “in the world.” But now this is about to change -- for Jesus' prayer reveals, “I am coming to you.” The disciples, however, will remain “in the world.”  The disciples are not coming along.

This takes us to the second request. The world, it seems, is both the place where Jesus' wants his disciples to be, where they belong and although bountiful, beautiful, and marvelous is one that Jesus acknowledges can be a scary, threatening place.  Like a worried parent, Jesus specifically asks for God's special protective arm for these disciples from the world's threats.  Yet even though there will be evil, Jesus knows the disciple's place remains with this world --- he does not ask God to whisk his followers out of the evil. Neither does Jesus pretend that all will be smooth. Instead, Jesus asks God’s protective care for these disciples -- especially from the powers of “the evil one,” because he knows how destructive evil will be particularly on the unity of his followers. Thus, as Jesus prepares to depart from his disciples, he leaves them with a prayer God to strengthen their joy in that we are God’s and the protective power of God's name.

Then in the final verses of this portion of the prayer Jesus highlights that his disciples be sanctified or dedicated to God's service “in the truth” of the word, even as was he himself. The disciples are to share in Jesus' identity as “holy” or sanctified so that they may fully serve God. Notice that, like Jesus' declarations that he is will no longer be physically present in this world, his statement here comes before that reality happens.

So, after having had a brief review what do you think?  “My prayer is not that you take them out of the world but that you protect them from the evil one.”  The second portion seems obvious, “protect them” but the first “not that you take them out of the world?”  Why not?  Well, for the simple reason that we are still about God’s redeeming work through Jesus Christ.

There is something else in the prayer that some of you may have noticed, we have no imperatives in this prayer. What shall we do? What daily practices, behaviors or focused meditations will help us? How may we reliably attain to this faithfulness in this world?  In other words, how will we be sanctified faithful world disciples?  Is it immediate, progressive or something altogether different?

Thankfully, Jesus does not disguise an exhortation to the disciples as a supplication to God.  Instead, what has been passed down to us, through a thicket of Greek transitive verbs and English prepositions, is an intimate and earnest appeal from Jesus to God on behalf of those overhearing him.  This prayer ends up as one of those passages that does not give us something to do or to believe.  Instead, Jesus prays that the disciples and by faith all of us, would belong to God as we belong to Jesus, and that we would be preserved and protected from the evil one.  For example, try as we might, we cannot convert these words of Jesus into an article of faith or a concrete task to accomplish and say it is complete. 

This is both Good News and a challenge and why I think it is helpful to use as a basis the framework from Niebuhr --- “Christ and Culture.”  His proposed framework provides a continuum in which we can hang our hat as they say at the unforeseeable opportunities to participate and not participate in this world.  One unfortunate response to the framework is to see each of the 5 as distinct.  But they are not.  We as Christians live out each as we proceed through faithful living.  One moment we are to be the friction point, clearly against the injustice of this world and in the next pointing to all the good in creation and people.

In other words, however we are compelled to faithfully respond at any given life event is an opportunity to be faithfully to be in but not of this world, knowing and loving God in, with and through Jesus Christ.  The other aspect of this good news is that no matter how we faithfully engage or model our life in Christ in this world, but not be in this world, we are unified in Christ’s prayer.  But just as Jesus acknowledged there is great danger, for the greatest threat from this world would seem to be its ability to breed divisiveness. Jesus clearly asks God to enable these followers to "be one" (v.11), but not that we model one faithful response whether it be “Christ against culture” or “Christ and culture,” rather as we engage in faithful living each response will be its own transformation, its own mystical experience, and its own sanctification.

Just as I wish Jesus were clear as to what our response is to be to being in this world, Jesus is just as clear by saying we are unified in being disciples of joy protected in God’s name.  It may appear unusual that Jesus does not now name the gift of the Holy Spirit as the protecting, unifying presence to act on behalf of the disciples once he is gone. However, here in a direct prayer with God, Jesus perhaps demonstrates his closeness with the divine by directly petitioning for God’s name, not the Counselor's presence, as the protective power over his disciples.

Hearts filled with joy in God’s name will, it appears, is what unifies each one of us.  And, while Jesus expects joyfulness, he also acknowledges the harsh realities that will confront those he leaves behind and a reminder that what Jesus expects is a faithful response no matter what that response is to that reality.  Is there one model of faithful response to this world, no there are many Christians and cultures.  Jesus prays for us to be joyfully faithful responsive unified in God’s name.  Amen.

"Kotatsu Discipleship" - 4-18-2021

Sermon preached in a zoom worship for Nagoya All Saints International Congregation Link on April 18, 2021, based on the Luke 24: 36b-48

During my first time in Japan in the late 1980’s, one of the things I learned to love was my kotatsu.  For the unseasoned “Nipponophile” a kotatsu is a low, wooden table frame covered by a futon or heavy blanket upon which a tabletop sits.  Underneath the table is an electric heat source, but in the past was a charcoal brazier.  After a day at Nagasaki Lutheran and my English classes around the city, I would grade papers, prepare for a new lesson, read, or watch NHK bilingual news, or episodes of the “Little House on the Prairie,” with my legs stretched out warmed by the heat.  My kotatsu was a place of Bible study and conversation with friends. There are even a few times, I would suddenly wake up realizing that I had fallen asleep.  I had a small western style kitchen table with chairs but under the kotatsu was where I would usually be found.  My kotatsu provided comfort especially on those cold evenings or mornings. 

I remembered that experience because I can just imagine today’s episode of the appearance of the resurrected Christ happening with the disciples beginning under a kotatsu a place of comfort as they shivered in grief and fear.

But let me back up.  The Easter story in Luke begins on Easter morning.  A group of women discover the empty tomb, and report to the apostles that two angels have told them that Jesus has risen. But the women are not believed — at least not initially. Peter however runs to the tomb, looks in and then goes home, amazed at what has happened (Luke 24:1-12).  So that’s Easter morning, followed by Easter afternoon. Another story, two disciples --- one named Cleopas --- make the seven-mile trip from Jerusalem to Emmaus, and along the way they encounter a mysterious stranger, who interprets the scriptures for them. When he joins them for dinner, he breaks bread with them at a table, and their eyes are opened, and they recognize him — it is Jesus!  Then he vanishes from their sight (vv. 13-31).  Which brings us to Easter evening.

These two disciples race back to Jerusalem and find the disciples and their companions in a room.  They were grieving and still in shock from all that had happened that week leading to Jesus’s death and in fear of being arrested themselves.  Into this room, Jesus appears, and scares them half to death --- they think they are seeing a ghost (v. 37).  Jesus can discern their inner confusion, and, literally from the Biblical Greek, “the dialog they were having within themselves.”  It is not doubting for that will come soon enough, but, for now, Jesus senses their inner turmoil, the internal deliberations and confusion borne of wonder, fear, and amazement.  The resurrected Christ says, “Touch me and see; for a ghost does not have flesh and bones as you see that I have.” And then to prove that he is no ghost, he asks them for some food. They give him a piece of broiled fish, and he eats it in their presence (vv. 38-43).

Jesus tells them, “These are my words that I spoke to you while I was still with you — that everything written about me in the law of Moses, the prophets, and the psalms must be fulfilled.”  Then sitting around a table, although not mentioned must have been the case for he opens their minds to understand the scriptures and says to them --- the Messiah has suffered and risen from the dead --- and now “repentance and forgiveness of sins is to be proclaimed in his name to all nations, beginning from Jerusalem” (vv. 44-47).  Jesus gives those gathered a panoramic view—the law of Moses, the prophets, and the psalms—all in one sitting. Jesus points out that he—and with him death and resurrection, repentance, and forgiveness—can be found throughout scripture.  I suspect this did not take a few minutes rather that is why the image of them all seated around a large kotatsu came to mind.

The apostles are probably wondering who is supposed to do this work of proclaiming repentance and forgiveness, so Jesus leans across the tabletop and makes it clear. “You are witnesses of these things,” he says. “And see, I am sending upon you what my Father promised; so, stay here in the city until you have been clothed with power from on high” (vv. 48-49).

Then notice this, in Luke he leads them away from the table where it is warm and safe, where they could remain.  Instead, the resurrected Christ hikes them out to Bethany, gives them a blessing … and is carried up into heaven. Easter ends with the ascension, according to Luke. At this, the apostles return to Jerusalem, worshiping Jesus, and they bless God continually in the temple (vv. 50-53).

Note what has happened here through all of Easter in the gospel of Luke. The mission of the apostles begins not with a visit to a tomb that is empty, but at tables with food — bread, wine, broiled fish — certainly, but conversation and the disciples leaving from those places out into the world.

Call it Kotatsu Discipleship.  I think this is important for us to digest because we sometimes underestimate the significance of what happens around tables.  Certainly, there are the disciples who first recognized Jesus when “he took bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to them” (v. 30) in Emmaus.  Similarly, this would be like the table where we gather in worship, but what struck me today was that Jesus gave the apostles their marching orders at another table as part of an after-dinner conversation.  The disciples were seeking Easter comfort. What they received was comfort along with the Spirit to go.  In other words, never underestimate the power of table talk.

Sharing the good news is a legacy that Jesus wants his followers to be a part of --- a legacy retold around tabletops from which is proclaimed a message of repentance and forgiveness. He wants the disciples to maintain the cycle of gratitude and generosity found in his presence --- gratitude that death has been conquered by the resurrection, and generosity toward those who need to hear this good news.

“You are my witnesses of these things.”  They are being sent out in the power of the Spirit to take the good news of the resurrection to all the nations of the world.  It all begins right here.  Around the table.

Notice as well that the disciples embark on their mission, they are clearly not “self-made” --- instead, they are Jesus-shaped at the table. They maintain a cycle of gratitude and generosity built on repentance and forgiveness and carry forward the legacy of the Messiah.  Luke tells us that they are “continually in the temple blessing God” — that is one form of gratitude (v. 53). Acts reports that the disciples share their possessions, and there’s “not a needy person among them” — that is a form of generosity (4:34). Acts also tells us that Peter proclaims that everyone who believes in Jesus “receives forgiveness of sins through his name” — that is the legacy of the risen Christ (10:43).

It all begins with the relationships we have here in worship --- around the Eucharistic Table --- as well as the relationships we have out in the world and around kotatsu tables when we gather with others.  Celebrating Easter around tabletops means that Jesus could show up, that resurrection could happen, at any table, at every table. We have no way of knowing when, where and how the risen Christ will bring new life. But that is not our concern.  Rather than being confined to one day, or to 50, Jesus’ Easter feast continues as one meal leads to another, as tables get larger and larger, and closer and closer together.  The story of Easter morning --- the empty tomb --- will always be at the heart of the Christian faith, because it proclaims that God has conquered death through the resurrection of Jesus Christ.  But equally important is the tale of Easter evening, kotatsu discipleship, when a movement was born at a table top out of fear, in a desire to find comfort, through the power of the spirit of the Risen Christ became a people full of gratitude and generosity to be shared.  Amen.

 

"Journey of Hope" - Easter Sunday April 4, 2021

Sermon preached at the Chapel of Hope, Yokosuka Naval Base, Japan and at All Saints International Congregation, Nagoya, Japan for Easter Sunday based on the Mark 16: 1-8

She checks her social media around 10 times a day. Twitter and Facebook are her main sites, but she also looks at Google for news. Since the start of the pandemic, her habit has increased significantly. “I’m a doom-scroller,” she admits to the Healthline website. Yes, this 26-year-old speech therapist confesses that she has a problem. Doom-scrolling is the act of endlessly scrolling down news apps, Twitter, and social media, reading all the news. “The pandemic has exacerbated these habits in many ways,” says a New York psychologist, “including the fact that there is no shortage of doomsday news.” [1]

If doom-scrolling is part of your daily routine, you are not alone. Did you know that in an average day, a person now scrolls through 22.7 meters (74.5 feet) on their smartphones?  Twitter use has jumped 24 percent since the start of the pandemic last year, and Facebook is up 27 percent.

The problem with this scrolling habit is that it can lead to higher stress. We think that keeping up with the latest will lessen our anxiety, but it increases it. Doom-scrolling is an “unsatisfying addiction,” says one clinical psychologist. Instead of making us feel safer, it raises our level of fear, anxiety, and stress.

So, does this sound familiar? Wanting to stay informed, we end up being sucked into doom and gloom, maybe even spiraling into despair.  We are not the first to experience this phenomenon just consider the three women who visited the tomb on Easter morning.

Mark tells us that when the Sabbath was over, “Mary Magdalene, and Mary the mother of James, and Salome bought spices, so that they might go and anoint [Jesus]. And early on the first day of the week, when the sun had risen, they went to the tomb” (16:1-2).

What were they feeling, however?  Their Rabbi had been killed in a humiliating death by asphyxiation on a cross. From there his body had been transported and then laid in a cave-like tomb, and a large stone had been rolled against the door. As they were walking along, Mark tells us that they had been saying to one another, “Who will roll away the stone for us from the entrance to the tomb?” (v. 3).  There was the anxiety about how they would remove the stone for the ritual observance of burial, certainly however we also know they were feeling a combination of grief over the death of Jesus, as well as stress about the future, what his death by a combination of religious and political conspiracy meant for their community and own personal lives. 

But when they arrived, “they saw that the stone, which was very large, had already been rolled back” (v. 4).  Now I am going to do a play on words, but I think it is helpful: their doom-scrolling was met by an act of stone-rolling. Finally, some good news!  Or is it?

Not only was the stone rolled back and the tomb empty they were further startled for as “they entered the tomb,” but “they” also “saw a young man, dressed in a white robe, sitting on the right side; and they were alarmed” (v. 5). The man said to them, “Do not be alarmed; you are looking for Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He has been raised” (v. 6). Their doom-scrolling had them focusing them on bad news, their current situation and all that had led up to this day, but the words of the young man gave them reason to hope.

But then the man ordered them to go “tell his disciples and Peter that he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him, just as he told you” (v. 7). The young man changed their focus from doom and gloom to a new possibility and direction. He promised them that Jesus was going ahead of them, and that they would see him in Galilee.

No wonder that the women fled the tomb, filled with a mix of terror and amazement and no wonder Mark adds these words.  The women were unable to follow through with the command, “they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid” (v. 8).

What was true for them can also be true for us.  I do not know your personal habits regarding social media specifically and internet use including email in general.  However, I sense all of us know that we can for example turn off Twitter, no longer review posts on Facebook, we can avoid our email, TV and radio but escaping doom and gloom is not that straightforward.  Experts say that the solution to doom-scrolling is to break out of the “vicious cycle of negativity.”

That for me is a glimmer of the complex Easter message for the women and for us for although we appreciate those positive messages, hope is hard to come by. Certainly, we have the hope through the good news of Easter in that God has acted in our lives to break the cycle of our broken patterns of sinfulness.  Sin can be full of intention. We know exactly what we are doing when we capitulate to temptation and embrace the distortion as if it is acceptable.  Yet, sin is so inescapably a part of being human that it is even baked into the very fabric of who we are.

But the message of hope is complex.  The women did not go to the tomb looking for hope. They were searching for a place to grieve. They wanted to be left alone in despair. “Our brains are crazy,” writes Tyler Tervooren in HuffPost. “Every day they lie to us about how terrible things are or how bad they’re going to be, but when we finally ignore the fear [we] realize everything’s pretty much okay, the world will keep turning, and we’re going to survive.”

Yes, the world will keep turning, but Easter is more than a straightforward message to stop doom-scrolling.  It also includes the terrifying prospect that God called these women to return to the same world that crucified Jesus with a dangerous gift: hope in the power of God, the unending reservoir of forgiveness and an abundance of love. We are invited in this message of hope not only to see that the stone has been rolled back, to believe that Jesus has been raised, but as well as focus on the future where our risen Lord is ahead of us and waiting for us.

The women were so afraid of the real stone that they never dreamed that God would take action to roll it away. The other disciples were so afraid they could not even venture out of the room.  Their brains were processing how terrible things were by adding to how bad things were going to be.  But then God replaced their doom-scrolling with stone-rolling into a journey of hope with the empty tomb as the first step.  Dr. Esau McCaulley, assistant professor of New Testament put it this way in a recent article in the New York Times: “As we leave the tombs of quarantine, a return to normal would be a disaster unless we recognize that we are going back to a world desperately in need of healing.”[2]

Fifty-three years ago, today, on April 4^th, 1968, the non-violent activist for justice, Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. was assassinated.  Out of that deep despair, British pastor Brian Wren wrote a new hymn for that Easter Sunday which was 10 days after the assassination. “Christ Is Alive!” was written by Wren to acknowledge this terrible loss while also proclaiming the resurrection of Jesus.  “Christ is alive!” he wrote. “Let Christians sing. The cross stands empty to the sky. Let streets and homes with praises ring. Love, drowned in death, shall never die.” Yes, a terrible crime had been committed. An awful injustice had been done. But now the cross was empty, and love would never die.

The hymn makes clear that the resurrection is not stuck in history, but a reality for every time. The risen Christ, says Brian Wren, is “saving, healing, here and now, and touching every place and time.” Jesus encounters human suffering whenever it is experienced. In the face of today’s racism and violence, Jesus “suffers still, yet loves the more.” The hymn then ends with the good news of “justice, love and praise.”[3]

Jesus is not dead in the tomb. Instead, this journey of hope means that Christ is found ahead of us with those who act with justice, love, and praise. So certainly, let us look up instead of down at our screens and open our eyes, and see that Jesus is alive and well.  Doom-scrolling traps us in a vicious cycle of negativity that fuels our anxiety, but the first step of Easter is the empty tomb.  This is what Jesus was doing by moving ahead of his disciples to Galilee, and what he is doing by going ahead of us today.  The stone has been rolled away and our Lord is calling us forward.  Christ is Risen, He is risen indeed.  Alleluia!  Amen.

 

[1] Curley, Christopher. “‘Doomscrolling’ During COVID-19: What It Does to You and How You Can Avoid It.” Healthline, July 26, 2020, www.healthline.com.

[2] Opinion | The Unsettling Power of Easter - The New York Times (nytimes.com)

[3] Hawn, C. Michael. “History of Hymns: Pastor writes Easter hymn for a time of great turmoil.” Discipleship Ministries: The United Methodist Church, May 21, 2013, www.umcdiscipleship.org.

 

"Through the Lens of Hebrews" - 3/21/2021

Sermon shared via Zoom on March 21, 2020 with Nagoya All Saints International Congregation in Nagoya, Japan.  Based on the lectionary for that Sunday particularly Hebrews 5: 5-10 and John 12: 20-33. 

The book of Hebrews in the New Testament makes few appearances in our weekly lectionary cycle.  And the portions from the Old Testament describing the priesthood and its rituals are even less visible. A faithful worshiper can go a long time without forming any idea of who Melchizedek is and what it means to be a priest according to his order.

It could be because the biblical names we usually associate with Jesus in the Gospels are from not the priestly but the prophetic tradition like Elijah, Moses.  And many of us are more steeped in the prophetic literature --- Isaiah, Jeremiah for example --- of the Old Testament than its ritual material.  Still, we have an important image here in Hebrews.  And one the I want to begin with because it helps us frame the Gospel.

Jesus Christ as a high priest as described by the author of Hebrew prompts us to remember what the priestly function does in relating God to the people. The interchange between humans and God is not merely about faith and ethical behavior in response to instruction and grace. There is also a whole sacrificial and intercessory system which Christians over the ages have variously claimed is abolished, superseded, or recapitulated and transformed by Jesus Christ. 

Without trying to resolve that whole thicket of questions and views, it is worth looking at the sacrificial language of today’s Hebrew's passage before we get into the lavish intercessory prayer in John’s Gospel. “In the days of his flesh, Jesus offered up prayers and supplications, with loud cries and tears,” says Hebrews. His priestly service however was not the one practiced in the Temple, and it was not merely serving as a sacrificial victim, just a slaughtered lamb. But Hebrews images his role as one of mediation between God and humans --- not just revealing God nor establishing a new standard of conduct or a different worldview --- but interceding with God on our behalf. 

Even if this priestly image and its theological implications can be hard to discern for most of us, that role lives on in the simple fact of our prayers that conclude with “through Christ our Lord.”  The reason we conclude our prayers is because Jesus Christ is our intercessory with God.  The suggestion is that our own petitions pass through him.

Starting from Hebrews and that snippet of background helps us understand today’s Gospel because if we reach the 12th chapter of John’s Gospel without a firm idea of who Jesus is or how he is supposed to have effected salvation, today provides one.

I realize that we are not hearing the whole chapter of John’ Gospel so let us review.  First, Mary at Bethany anoints Jesus, in an act that prefigures his burial but also echoes priestly and royal consecrations --- because they used oil. As does the next portion of the chapter, where Jesus enters Jerusalem to the acclamation of a great crowd laying down palm branches and calling him “King of Israel.”  We will hear more about that next week on Palm Sunday.

Which brings us to today’s portion.  The world shows up at the start of this week’s reading, symbolized in the two Greeks who ask to see him. In response, Jesus, in that moment, makes another dramatic, demanding announcement: the time for his glorification --- by means of his violent public death --- is at hand.

As Jesus narrates his coming death, phrases ring like echoes of other parts of the New Testament. When Jesus says that only grain that dies and falls into the earth can bring forth fruit, we hear the Apostle Paul’s analogy of the dying seed and the body (1 Cor. 15:35–44).  Jesus acknowledges that his soul is troubled but pointedly declines to pray for deliverance, in contrast to the agony depicted in the synoptic Gospels at the Garden of Gethsemane.  Instead of agony we have a voice that comes from heaven, recalling those Gospels’ accounts of Jesus’ baptism and transfiguration.

Then instead of “take this cup from me imagery,” Jesus declares, “Now is the judgment of this world, now the ruler of this world will be driven out. And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself.”

As an anticipation of Jesus’ crucifixion, it is fair to say that this passage goes further --- making claims both stronger and more paradoxical --- than anything in the other Gospels. This moment of trial will be summed up not as betrayal or suffering but as being “lifted up,” in which Jesus will “draw all people” to himself.

John’s distinctive vocabulary is displayed here. The verb we translate as “lifted up” appears twice before in the Gospel --- when Jesus says the Son of Man will be lifted up as Moses lifted up the serpent (3:14) and when he says he will be revealed when he is lifted up (8:28). Elsewhere this word is used in an unequivocal sense of being exalted. Only in John does this exaltation include the cross, creating one combined image of crucifixion, resurrection, and ascension.

Taken together, these words create a majestic but challenging picture of what Jesus is accomplishing. In being lifted up on the cross, Jesus will exert a magnetic pull on “all people.” Commentators have discussed for centuries over the implications. When the Father, or Jesus, draws someone, is this an invitation that we may decline, or an enabling of belief that may exist in all people?

What does “all people” mean?  Is it an invitation rather than actual change?  That seems odd as well because Jesus does not say: “When I am lifted up, I will give all people the chance to come to me.” Furthermore, John’s dramatic retelling is genuinely cosmic, with humanity merely in the foreground. And the magnetism Jesus exerts in this Gospel is more than charisma or persuasion. It rearranges and reveals the world.

Having wrestled for years with these passages, I still struggle to make sense of them.  For me I am thankful that we have examples. At his birth, he attracted shepherds to a Bethlehem hillside, and wise men from afar. In the temple when he was 12 years old, the wise and the learned gathered round to hear him. As an adult, Jesus called to his side, fishermen who left their nets and tax collectors who abandoned their account books. Even the wise Pharisee, Nicodemus, came to him by night, to learn how to be “born from above.”  Jesus called to his side women of every description --- everyone from the practical, no-nonsense Martha to her dreamy sister, Mary. Even the Roman governor, Pilate, felt the pull of his magnetism as he interrogated him. 

Second, as I mentioned it is helpful to see this in context with the Book of Hebrews that gives us an image of Jesus we may not have considered, as High Priest who draws us together.

For illustration, in 2016 I had the privilege of visiting the Vatican in Rome.  Early one Sunday with two others, we went and stood in line with hundreds of others from around the world.  The gates were opened and by the order of when we arrived, we sat or stood in places around a massive square.  In the square, barricades provided not only our locations, but a road for the “pope mobile,” a small car with a bulletproof enclosure with a chair for the Pope of the Roman Catholic Church to sit.  Then at the appropriate time, out in this small car came Pope Francis I with a retinue of guards and assistants.  As they drove by, they came past where I was sitting, as we all waved and clapped.  Some tried to handle him children to bless, or pieces of clothing to touch. 

Although as remarkable of an experience as that was, Jesus as High Priest in John is painting a unique image, because when Jesus is drawing all people to himself as High Priest, it is not in a heavenly courtyard (although that may come later), rather it is in the descending figure of the falling grain. It is an image of dying to the world, to security, even to the power.  I have placed a lot of seeds in the ground, and I have nurtured the sprouts as they become plants and bear fruit. I have watched seeds bring forth life --- not ceasing to have vital functions but pushing off the old to allow the new to emerge and mature.

Today, Jesus affirms that he is a High Priest, one that dies so that we can live.  The mercy of God, the salvation of my life, is God’s vulnerability.  What is being lifted is not robed in majesty where we can visit once a year, and admire, but in humility through death on a cross which in a mysterious way can bring all people into a wholly, new relationship with God.  Jesus is a mediator but one that is not tied to time and space.  Thankfully, the lectionary editors felt it was helpful, as I do, to interpret today’s gospel through the book of Hebrews as we prepare for Holy Week and the momentous event of Jesus on the cross.  Amen.

 

"Where does our Lenten Journey begin?" - 2/21/2021

A version of a sermon I presented to All Saints Internation congregation in Nagoya, Japan.

As disciples of Jesus Christ our faith is not an escape from but an entry point into --- the joy and resurrection of Easter.  But to get to Easter we are to go through the cross and tomb.  It is a journey of trust, truth, and transparency.

Before we begin let us back up.  On Ash Wednesday this past week (February 17) a journey began called Lent that we take with God for 40 days before Easter.  The word “lent” is derived from the old English word “to lengthen,” as in the lengthening of days to Spring.  Lent began on Ash Wednesday and ends on Holy Thursday as the count does not include Sundays --- those are days of rest and reflection.  But the most interesting part for me is the number 40. 

Forty is not arbitrary.  In the Bible, there are several important Biblical events that are measured in the number 40; 40 years in the journey from Egypt to the promised land for one.  And of course, as we hear today, Jesus goes out into the wilderness for 40 days, where he wrestles with evil, which challenges his identity and faith.  The author of Mark says he is “tempted by Satan,” evil personified.  Forty days of being tested and tempted in the wilderness. At the end of those 40 days, Jesus emerges, but it does not get any easier. The greatest challenges are still to come. 

In other words, these 40 days in wilderness are just the beginning.  So, what can these 40 days tell us as we ourselves journey to the cross? 

Let us move on to the lesson.  Scholars debate how much Jesus knows at this early point in the story. I do not know if Jesus understands exactly how it will all unfold, all the details.  I think he knows something.  Something has begun that will test his will and resolve and faithfulness. As the passage opens, and the Gospel of Mark is so consistent this way --- no mincing of words --- we find Jesus being baptized in the Jordan River by his cousin, John. A voice from heaven breaks through the sounds of the rushing water and cutting through the hubbub of a crowd, the Spirit descends on Jesus like a dove. “You are my son, the Beloved,” says the voice; “with you I am well pleased” (v. 11).

This event affirms once again that God is the one who gives Jesus his identity, marking him as someone special, someone who has God’s favor. In a very real sense, Jesus begins his ministry equipped and protected with nothing less than the full love of a divine parent.  Jesus goes forth into the wilderness with a bond --- a trust --- knowing in a powerful way that he is loved.  This is the first key learning for me.  We are loved and that is where every day begins.

The Gospel of Mark does not expound much on the temptations that Jesus faced out in the wilderness, but the gospels of Matthew and Luke do.

Now reminded that he is fitted with God’s love, the first temptation is like a bullying kid in a school playground, coming fast and furious in the first couple of days.  Satan dares Jesus to do something risky. Using Scripture as the basis for his response, Jesus does not take the leap: Satan says, “Satisfy your hunger and turn these stones to bread.” Jesus in response points to self-denial, recognizing that everything comes from God and that God provides.  This is for me the second key learning; a reminder that in these 40 days not everything is about us.  As important as we may be, the universe does not revolve around us, certainly God does not.  Everything comes from God and God provides.

In the next temptation I have always imagined it happening later after Jesus had some time to get hungrier, thirstier, and more alone.  Conceivably this second temptation came when Jesus is debating if he did the right thing.  In this temptation personified evil takes Jesus to the pinnacle of the temple. “Jump off,” says the bully, “and land unharmed. If you are so great, God will protect you.” Jesus responds with common sense, knowing that people who have real power do not need to show it off or use it to suit their own ends.  This is the third key learning for me, reason is not antithetical to our Christian journey these 40 days. 

Then there comes the third temptation, again another large one.  Perhaps after the hunger in Jesus had grown to the point of desperation when out of the haze and keenness of his hunger in this journey he hears — “All the kingdoms of the world can be yours,” says Satan, “if you’ll only worship me.” To which Jesus responds with humility --- the most difficult of the temptations for us at this point --- and says that God is the only one worth serving.  An important lesson like the first temptation but important coming right after Ash Wednesday when we are reminded that we are dust and to dust we shall return.

What does all this mean for all of us?  And why put this gospel at the near beginning of our own Lenten journey?  Maybe you do not need a reminder.  As for me it is good that we have this gospel near the beginning, for as we go out into a world fraught with so many temptations and potential pitfalls, our first line of defense begins with our own baptism; to know that God loves us.  That we are “beloved” because of God’s grace. The knowledge and experience, forged through the day-to-day relationship we walk in with God, are better predictors of heart, mind, and soul protection than any memory verses.  As we know that God cares for us, we can move out smartly to take on the bumps and jumps the day throws at us.  The other learnings come next --- humility, that not everything is about us, and that reason is important are helpful, but they all begin with that foundation piece, I am loved.

I could end there but then we would be avoiding this harsh truth, remember Jesus is driven by the Spirit into a wilderness; a physical place where few people go.  But this “wilderness” is more than physical --- if that was not enough --- it is spiritually as well, and this is even more tricky.  I mean if I cannot handle missing a meal, there is always a convenience store I can stop at.  Spiritual wildernesses on the other hand are those places where few of us ever want to go and many convenient exits to help us avoid it. Who wants to go where we wrestle with ourselves, and our spirit, and our relationship with God?   This is the transparency in our Lenten journey.

What good is that spiritual wrestling?  We cannot put it on a résumé.  We cannot earn any money from it; I suppose we could write a bestseller.  Spiritual wrestling with evil does not really make our lives easier; it may even make it harder.  So why do it?

Because in transparency, let us admit it, we have often been in the wilderness, maybe not the Mongolian desert, but wilderness, nonetheless.  The reality of our lives is that we spend a lot of time doing the best we can. We spend a lot of time facing temptation and wrestling with God, a lot of time with various demons if you will.

And in all transparency, this faith thing is hard.  Thus, we have today’s gospel to recenter our journeys. In Lent we can spend wilderness days not alone but with one who has been there before, reminded daily that we are not alone. That is good news.

Whatever that spiritual and physical wilderness may include, God looks at us with nothing but compassion and love. After all, God watched God’s own child go through challenging times. There is more good news, too. Because sometimes our spiritual wilderness can do more than challenge us. They can change us for it going through the desolate places, the painful places, we can also find joy.  Sometimes we cannot avoid hitting rock bottom before we can find the solid ground of our being.  Lent is a season for discoveries like that.

Lent is a physical countdown certainly, but it is intended for greater depth of introspection. For 40 days we are asked to go into a wilderness places and to prepare ourselves for the journey to the cross.  What will we do to quicken our pulse, remind us of our hunger?  Whatever it may be in these lengthening days we are to wrestle with the hard stuff. To face temptation and to choose to follow Christ anyway.

None of us should be surprised that we would rather jump to the end --- “Easter” --- because many like celebrations; not everyone likes setting up for it. But those of us who choose to make this 40-day wilderness journey of trust, truth and transparency may discover something meaningful along the way like the fact that Christ is there, too.  Amen.