Luke 15: 22-24 "But the father said to his servants, ‘Bring quickly the best robe, and put it on him, and put a ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet. And bring the fattened calf and kill it, and let us eat and celebrate. For this my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found.’"
We know the story as "The Prodigal Son." If not the most famous, it is surely among the most famous of the parables of Jesus, well known to Christians and non-Christians alike. It is the longest of the parables and with good reason -- it is an extraordinary story about the human condition. Foolishness and forgiveness; helplessness and hypocrisy; jealousy and joy -- all are found in this short tale.
Members of the religious establishment had questioned the company Jesus liked to keep. "Now the tax collectors and sinners were all drawing near to hear him. And the Pharisees and the scribes grumbled, saying, 'This man receives sinners and eats with them.'" Jesus confronts their complaints with three vivid parables, first, that of a lost sheep, then of a lost coin, and finally, a lost child, the prodigal son. Through these stories he aimed to point out that God wants to save sinners, not merely tend after saints.
The story is a familiar one. An impetuous young man wants to go off and live an independent life. He asks for his portion of his father's inheritance, receives it, and wanders off, to foreign lands. But he does not carry his values along with his valuables. He spends his money unwisely at best, wickedly at worst. A famine overtakes him, leaving him destitute,and he can only work tending hogs and longing after the scraps they are fed. At last, he "comes to himself," and, deciding that he needs salvation, he "arises." He gets up from his situation of sin, dusts himself off, and begins the trek homeward.
The young man is completely unprepared for the level of grace his father will exhibit upon his return. And, quite frankly, his older brother is completely unprepared as well. After the son is received with joy and effusive celebration and emotion, the spotlight turns to the elder brother, who asks what we might expect him to -- what about me? He has been the good one, the responsible one, the hard worker. He has known and followed his duty. Yet his father celebrates not this model of sonship, but instead the wretch who has finally come home in rags? Why? How?
And then comes the whole point of the story -- the unfailing and unlimited grace of the father. He is willing to forgive, and he is ready to love. "It was fitting to celebrate and be glad, for this your brother was dead, and is alive; he was lost, and is found."
"Prodigal" is a word we normally only hear in relation to this parable. It is so inextricably linked to the parable that it seems unusual to hear it in any other context. What does the word in fact mean? Related to words like "prodigious" and "prodigy," it means, "recklessly extravagant," "lavish," or "luxuriant." Given that, I would argue that the parable is inaptly named. This is not a story of a prodigal son. True, the younger son went off and lived a lavish life, squandering his money, but he is not the center of the tale. The father is. And it is the father, just like our heavenly Father, who is truly prodigal. His grace is "recklessly extravagant." His love is "lavish and luxuriant." Jesus is pointing out here that we indeed have a "prodigal Father," who is waiting for our return.It is up to us to come to ourselves, to arise, and to leave that faraway country, and return, finally, to home.
Monday, June 18, 2012
Monday, May 21, 2012
At the Right Time
Romans 5:6 "You see, at just the right time, when we were still powerless, Christ died for the ungodly."
We are creatures trapped by time. Time is the hidden framework for our universe, the basic foundation for all that we know and understand. As much as we may dream of escaping it, of moving back or forth within it or making it move slower or faster, or even to stand still, we cannot change it, not in the least. We live in time, moving at its established pace, ever onward, and there is nothing we can do to change it.
"At just the right time," Paul tells us, Jesus broke into history, to live for us and die for us. Christ, being divine, transcends time and history, yet he condescended to be a part of history, to live amongst us for a moment in the sea of time, to live a life in this temporal world we share. We accept this, but we rarely ask the obvious question: why that given window in time? Why was Jesus not born into our world earlier (or later, for that matter)? Have you ever considered that question?
Why didn't Jesus appear right after the sin of Adam and Eve? That certainly could have saved the world a lot of trouble. Or why not right before Noah, to divert the sinful population of the world from catastrophe? Why not in the days after Noah, or perhaps in the time of the Patriarchs, as God was establishing his chosen people? Why not when the Israelites were in bondage in Egypt? Why did God send Moses when he could have sent the Son himself?
Why didn't Jesus appear as the people were populating the Promised Land, or in the time of the Judges, or before David, or after? Why not in the days of the bad kings, when the people were in such desperate need of moral leadership? Why not during the exile in Babylon, one of the lowest points for the people of Israel? Why not upon their return? Jumping ahead, why didn't Jesus appear in the days of the Maccabees, that window of Jewish independence? Why was he not born 100 years before he was, or 50, or even 10? Or why not 10 years later,or 50, or 100?
Instead of every other possibility, God chose this particular window of time in the middle of the life of the Roman Empire to break into history. As someone fascinated by the ancient world, the question has fascinated me for years: why was Jesus brought into the world precisely when he was? It's easy to say, "In order to fulfill the words of the prophets," but let's be honest, if God had wanted the Advent to occur at a different time or in a different way, he would have simply given the prophets different prophecies.
We can speculate as much as we'd like, but in the final analysis all we can say is that God did this in his own good time. His timing is beyond our questioning or understanding, and it alone is perfect. God deals with us through history, and so Jesus Christ had to come into our lives via a window in that same history, but as to why the time and place that was chosen, only God can ever know.
God has made us creatures of time, living in a universe built on time as we know it. Theoretically, God could have created something else, a framework which didn't depend on time as we understand it. But since he did create time for us, he also uses it as part of his revelation. He reveals himself through history in the story of salvation --in other words, salvation history. It is a history that isn't finished yet. It will find completeness in a new creation governed entirely by God, with evil finally defeated. When God broke into our human history in the person of Jesus, he gave us a foretaste of that future, and indeed allowed us to experience it and to live within it even in this imperfect world. Christ conquered time itself to bring us the Kingdom of God (Mark 1:15, “The time has come,” [Jesus] said. “The kingdom of God has come near."). It is a Kingdom that does not yet exist in our reality, but has always existed and will always exist in God's reality. As Pannenberg puts it, we witness through God a "permanent present," because the Godhead transcends time, and through a relation with the divine, so can we.
What does all this mean for us? First, it means that we believe in a God who cares so deeply for us that he was willing to break into history in order to save us. But that event was not simply an event that happened once in first century Palestine. It happens anew again and again and again, every time a new believer accepts Christ into their heart and soul. Despite death and time and generations apart, we all live as part of that permanent present in the presence of the Son of God.
But it also is a reminder that not only did Christ break into history, on a human and physical scale, once in the midst of time, but that he will do so again. At an hour we least expect, he will enter our human history again. For the God of history, the God of the universe, is also the God our our lives and of our souls. And just as he entered history once to see us face to face, he is coming once more, to do so yet again.
We are creatures trapped by time. Time is the hidden framework for our universe, the basic foundation for all that we know and understand. As much as we may dream of escaping it, of moving back or forth within it or making it move slower or faster, or even to stand still, we cannot change it, not in the least. We live in time, moving at its established pace, ever onward, and there is nothing we can do to change it.
"At just the right time," Paul tells us, Jesus broke into history, to live for us and die for us. Christ, being divine, transcends time and history, yet he condescended to be a part of history, to live amongst us for a moment in the sea of time, to live a life in this temporal world we share. We accept this, but we rarely ask the obvious question: why that given window in time? Why was Jesus not born into our world earlier (or later, for that matter)? Have you ever considered that question?
Why didn't Jesus appear right after the sin of Adam and Eve? That certainly could have saved the world a lot of trouble. Or why not right before Noah, to divert the sinful population of the world from catastrophe? Why not in the days after Noah, or perhaps in the time of the Patriarchs, as God was establishing his chosen people? Why not when the Israelites were in bondage in Egypt? Why did God send Moses when he could have sent the Son himself?
Why didn't Jesus appear as the people were populating the Promised Land, or in the time of the Judges, or before David, or after? Why not in the days of the bad kings, when the people were in such desperate need of moral leadership? Why not during the exile in Babylon, one of the lowest points for the people of Israel? Why not upon their return? Jumping ahead, why didn't Jesus appear in the days of the Maccabees, that window of Jewish independence? Why was he not born 100 years before he was, or 50, or even 10? Or why not 10 years later,or 50, or 100?
Instead of every other possibility, God chose this particular window of time in the middle of the life of the Roman Empire to break into history. As someone fascinated by the ancient world, the question has fascinated me for years: why was Jesus brought into the world precisely when he was? It's easy to say, "In order to fulfill the words of the prophets," but let's be honest, if God had wanted the Advent to occur at a different time or in a different way, he would have simply given the prophets different prophecies.
We can speculate as much as we'd like, but in the final analysis all we can say is that God did this in his own good time. His timing is beyond our questioning or understanding, and it alone is perfect. God deals with us through history, and so Jesus Christ had to come into our lives via a window in that same history, but as to why the time and place that was chosen, only God can ever know.
God has made us creatures of time, living in a universe built on time as we know it. Theoretically, God could have created something else, a framework which didn't depend on time as we understand it. But since he did create time for us, he also uses it as part of his revelation. He reveals himself through history in the story of salvation --in other words, salvation history. It is a history that isn't finished yet. It will find completeness in a new creation governed entirely by God, with evil finally defeated. When God broke into our human history in the person of Jesus, he gave us a foretaste of that future, and indeed allowed us to experience it and to live within it even in this imperfect world. Christ conquered time itself to bring us the Kingdom of God (Mark 1:15, “The time has come,” [Jesus] said. “The kingdom of God has come near."). It is a Kingdom that does not yet exist in our reality, but has always existed and will always exist in God's reality. As Pannenberg puts it, we witness through God a "permanent present," because the Godhead transcends time, and through a relation with the divine, so can we.
What does all this mean for us? First, it means that we believe in a God who cares so deeply for us that he was willing to break into history in order to save us. But that event was not simply an event that happened once in first century Palestine. It happens anew again and again and again, every time a new believer accepts Christ into their heart and soul. Despite death and time and generations apart, we all live as part of that permanent present in the presence of the Son of God.
But it also is a reminder that not only did Christ break into history, on a human and physical scale, once in the midst of time, but that he will do so again. At an hour we least expect, he will enter our human history again. For the God of history, the God of the universe, is also the God our our lives and of our souls. And just as he entered history once to see us face to face, he is coming once more, to do so yet again.
Monday, April 23, 2012
Finding What You're Looking For
Jeremiah 29:13 "You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart."
I often fiddle with the radio as I'm driving, flipping from one station to the next hoping to land on something worth listening to. The other night I happened to land on one station just as U2 was beginning this classic:
"Seeking" is a big term in the modern church. It captures various aspects of our culture -- a consumerism that allows us to sample and try on various forms of faith as we look for the one most right for us; the abstract, unplanned way of the modern pilgrim, searching for spiritual completeness amidst the wilderness of modernity; and beyond that the frustration of the beginning believer in the face of contradictory, competing, and confusing options among churches, denominations, and traditions. The modern church has an eye on the seekers, as we hope to bring them into our doors and convince them ours is the best club to join.
Rather, we should convince the seeker that finding a church, finding a community, is the least part of their task. It can be difficult and even frustrating, but it is secondary to the wonder of finding God himself. We too often want to make the pilgrimage process for the modern seeker harder than it needs to be. We need instead to remind them that Jesus Christ is not out there somewhere, waiting for us to find him. He isn't hiding; instead, he's the one looking for us. He's the one who initiates the contact. Opening the door to his quiet knocking is not a hard process -- or, it doesn't need to be. It is not reliant on finding the right this or that. It is reliant on one thing only: our willingness to say, Yes, I believe.
U2 sings of the long search for meaning and joy in this broken world of ours -- searching through this sordid world, looking for the answers in relationships and in ideologies. We've all been there. Even when we think we know the answers, sometimes we only know them in book form:
I often fiddle with the radio as I'm driving, flipping from one station to the next hoping to land on something worth listening to. The other night I happened to land on one station just as U2 was beginning this classic:
I have climbed the highest mountainsSeveral U2 songs have religious undertones, few more so than I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For. It is a song of yearning and searching, and even 25 years after it came out (yes, 25 years next month -- believe it or not) it still holds the power to evoke deep feelings for listeners. It touches upon [dare I say it] existential thoughts that virtually every individual carries, no matter how rarely we want to examine them. That aspect of the song, more than its aesthetic qualities, may be the true point of its staying power. It makes us, when we hear it on the radio, alone on a stretch of highway, think of the big questions. It forces us to ask what we are doing here, where we are headed, and what we want our final destination to be.
I have run through the fields
Only to be with you
Only to be with you
"Seeking" is a big term in the modern church. It captures various aspects of our culture -- a consumerism that allows us to sample and try on various forms of faith as we look for the one most right for us; the abstract, unplanned way of the modern pilgrim, searching for spiritual completeness amidst the wilderness of modernity; and beyond that the frustration of the beginning believer in the face of contradictory, competing, and confusing options among churches, denominations, and traditions. The modern church has an eye on the seekers, as we hope to bring them into our doors and convince them ours is the best club to join.
Rather, we should convince the seeker that finding a church, finding a community, is the least part of their task. It can be difficult and even frustrating, but it is secondary to the wonder of finding God himself. We too often want to make the pilgrimage process for the modern seeker harder than it needs to be. We need instead to remind them that Jesus Christ is not out there somewhere, waiting for us to find him. He isn't hiding; instead, he's the one looking for us. He's the one who initiates the contact. Opening the door to his quiet knocking is not a hard process -- or, it doesn't need to be. It is not reliant on finding the right this or that. It is reliant on one thing only: our willingness to say, Yes, I believe.
U2 sings of the long search for meaning and joy in this broken world of ours -- searching through this sordid world, looking for the answers in relationships and in ideologies. We've all been there. Even when we think we know the answers, sometimes we only know them in book form:
I believe in the Kingdom ComeMany children -- many adults, for that matter-- have learned these things as facts, but never accepted them as matters of deep faith. They end up looking for a truth they already know, but don't know how to accept. And we convince them all too often that they need to go searching for their answer. In reality, God is trying every day to give the answer to them. Decades ago the Christian writer A.W. Tozer published a classic book he called, The Pursuit of God. It is about forming a deeper relationship with God, but it is so poorly named. God does not need to be pursued. That implies he is running away. Quite the contrary, God is always there; if anything, God pursues us. He is always next to us, waiting for us to simply open our hearts to his grace. It may seem more complicated than that, but it's really not. It's all about surrendering; not pursuing, or searching, or seeking, but surrendering. That can indeed be a hard thing for us to do, but the difficulty lies within us, not in the roadblocks around us. Until we learn to surrender, and accept the presence of God right here and right now, right where we are, we too will continue to say, I still haven't found what I'm looking for.
Then all the colors will bleed into one
Bleed into one
But, yes, I'm still running
You broke the bonds
And you loosed the chains
Carried the cross of my shame
Oh, my shame
You know I believe it
Friday, March 16, 2012
How Great is Our God
Psalm 8:1 "O Lord, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth!"
Last night I heard a local trio sing "How Great Is Our God" at a church-related meeting. I first encountered this Chris Tomlin song during Friday night large group meetings at the Harvard-Radcliffe Christian Fellowship in the early '90s. We would sing it over and over with fervor and joy, as I have heard it sung many times since. As I listened to these three women singing last night, thoroughly enjoying the music that was washing over me, I found myself realizing the key to the song's appeal -- it's simplicity. Sure, we can talk on and on about theology and come up with limitless things to discuss and debate regarding God, but only rarely can theology be translated well into music. The Wesleys could do it, for instance, but many songwriters have tried and failed. The reality is that God is so complex that limited beings like us can only hope to understand him by seeing him in the simplest possible terms. That's what this song does. It is theologically sound, but also recognizes that God is best described in terms of majesty, since we cannot comprehend him fully in any other way:
The more I have pondered this the more convinced I am of this answer: God cannot be proven. Not in an earthly or scientific manner. I may say I am convinced there is a God, but others could say my certainty was merely a psychological quirk, as if I were convinced I was Napoleon. The reason we cannot prove God through worldly means is this: a God that can be proven isn't big enough to be God. Really, wouldn't you be disappointed if God could be measured by an instrument or described by a mathematical equation? He is beyond proof, as we normally describe proof.
Is that a cop-out? Not in the least. I think it's just being truthful. I recently read a new book by Dinesh D'Souza titled Forsaken, in which he tries to show that not only does God exist, but also that despite the horrors we see in this world, God is good and caring. D'Souza seems to bend over backwards to do this. For instance, he points out that earthquakes and volcanoes may have taken many innocent lives throughout the centuries, but they are produced by tectonic plates, which are a fundamental part of what allows life to exist on this earth, due to their job in creating carbon dioxide that plants need to live. D'Souza has built his arguments around counter-arguments he has heard many times in debates with atheists, and indeed sometimes you can imagine him and his interlocutor coming to a stalemate. But that hardly means he has convinced anyone of God's existence, let alone proven God.
Because really, how does anyone prove this?:
I feel for people who are trying to figure out if God is real through the means of science and logic and reason. They will never find the answer this way. If a God exists who is indeed creator and lord of all, it is ludicrous to believe that we can explain his existence in human terms. Belief comes from accepting that which is offered, not by exploring for an answer and discovering it on one's own. That is in fact why this song is so moving, because it does not attempt to explain God but only to describe his majesty and character, as that being who is so above us and beyond us, yet also so close to us, as to belie any attempt at expression aside from mere awe. Really, how else do you approach this?:
Last night I heard a local trio sing "How Great Is Our God" at a church-related meeting. I first encountered this Chris Tomlin song during Friday night large group meetings at the Harvard-Radcliffe Christian Fellowship in the early '90s. We would sing it over and over with fervor and joy, as I have heard it sung many times since. As I listened to these three women singing last night, thoroughly enjoying the music that was washing over me, I found myself realizing the key to the song's appeal -- it's simplicity. Sure, we can talk on and on about theology and come up with limitless things to discuss and debate regarding God, but only rarely can theology be translated well into music. The Wesleys could do it, for instance, but many songwriters have tried and failed. The reality is that God is so complex that limited beings like us can only hope to understand him by seeing him in the simplest possible terms. That's what this song does. It is theologically sound, but also recognizes that God is best described in terms of majesty, since we cannot comprehend him fully in any other way:
The splendor of a KingI've been thinking over the past several months about the question of how to "prove" God. I've known many atheists and agnostics who have said, basically, sure I would believe in a God if his existence could be proven. I thought for years that it would be the ultimate breakthrough to come up with that "proof" and have the final argument explaining that yes, there is a God. In the 11th century St. Anselm developed a proof of God that is known as the Ontological Argument: "God is that being than which no greater can be conceived." Convinced? Probably not. Anselm tried to say that since the idea of God exists in our minds as the greatest of all possible things, and obviously nothing greater than this exists in reality since the concept of God is already the concept of the greatest of all things, then God must exist. Or at least that is my butchering of Anselm's argument. The point though is that Anselm's argument will not -- cannot -- convince an unbeliever that there is a God. But what could?
Clothed in majesty
Let all the earth rejoice
All the earth rejoice
The more I have pondered this the more convinced I am of this answer: God cannot be proven. Not in an earthly or scientific manner. I may say I am convinced there is a God, but others could say my certainty was merely a psychological quirk, as if I were convinced I was Napoleon. The reason we cannot prove God through worldly means is this: a God that can be proven isn't big enough to be God. Really, wouldn't you be disappointed if God could be measured by an instrument or described by a mathematical equation? He is beyond proof, as we normally describe proof.
Is that a cop-out? Not in the least. I think it's just being truthful. I recently read a new book by Dinesh D'Souza titled Forsaken, in which he tries to show that not only does God exist, but also that despite the horrors we see in this world, God is good and caring. D'Souza seems to bend over backwards to do this. For instance, he points out that earthquakes and volcanoes may have taken many innocent lives throughout the centuries, but they are produced by tectonic plates, which are a fundamental part of what allows life to exist on this earth, due to their job in creating carbon dioxide that plants need to live. D'Souza has built his arguments around counter-arguments he has heard many times in debates with atheists, and indeed sometimes you can imagine him and his interlocutor coming to a stalemate. But that hardly means he has convinced anyone of God's existence, let alone proven God.
Because really, how does anyone prove this?:
He wraps Himself in lightMy point is that God, as Christians see God, cannot be explained, but only experienced. Unbelievers who come to have belief do so not because they worked it out in their head or were convinced by an argument; they do so because in some way or another they experienced God, and therefore know God to exist.
And darkness tries to hide
It trembles at His voice
Trembles at His voice
I feel for people who are trying to figure out if God is real through the means of science and logic and reason. They will never find the answer this way. If a God exists who is indeed creator and lord of all, it is ludicrous to believe that we can explain his existence in human terms. Belief comes from accepting that which is offered, not by exploring for an answer and discovering it on one's own. That is in fact why this song is so moving, because it does not attempt to explain God but only to describe his majesty and character, as that being who is so above us and beyond us, yet also so close to us, as to belie any attempt at expression aside from mere awe. Really, how else do you approach this?:
Age to age, He standsFrom Anselm to D'Souza, and so many in between, we too often have forgetten that God cannot be shared intellectually, only experientially. So do you want someone to believe in God? Help them experience him. Be his ambassador on earth, and that will be more of a proof than all the books in the world.
And time is in His hands
Beginning and the end
Beginning and the end
Friday, January 27, 2012
Water and Fire
Ephesians 4:5 "...one Lord, one faith, one baptism..."
Late January always reminds me of my baptism. That event occurred on January 31, 1988, nearly a quarter century ago. I was 15 at the time. I had started attending church about two years earlier with my grandmother, who had herself only attended for maybe a year before that. It was a small church in a small town, and Sunday mornings brought out 25 to 35 people. It was part of a three-point Methodist charge and during my few years there went through four ministers – Revs. Beckwith, Swann, Hogue, and Dunaway. I still remember their names. As a teenager, and one who attended willingly, I was an anomaly and the congregation simply didn’t know what to do with me.
Rev. Swann decided at one point to hold confirmation classes for anyone interested. My grandmother and I took part as did a couple of adults from another church on the charge. I still remember sitting in the parsonage one evening per week, looking through an oversimplified booklet with cartoonish characters, meant to explain the most basic tenets of faith. Finally, we set a date for our baptisms and confirmations. Though my grandmother’s own grandfather had been a minister, there was no memory of her having been baptized, so she took part in that ritual as did I.
Baptisms at that church were exceedingly rare, and Rev. Swann was so young these might have been his first ones for all I knew. It was an important day for me. I had been soaking up what I could learn at the church and this moment of initiation meant a great deal. It was a time of anticipation and pride -- of the good kind. We had gone over the short ceremony in detail and I was ready. I had been instructed to kneel for the baptism (which, at most, could have been described as a light sprinkling), but my grandmother could not do so due to a bad hip. But when the moment came, with a bunch of much older folks looking on, my 15-year old self felt a bit embarrassed and I didn’t kneel, but instead stood there as the pastor baptized me. I’m sure no one thought about or even noticed this, but I had a sudden sense of guilt for failing to follow through on this one, simple action of kneeling at the altar.
As the years went by, whenever I considered my baptism, this guilt would always crop up. It was a small thing, yet it seemed big to me. But now I realize that even this taught me a lesson in grace. The very imperfections of our humanity that caused me to hesitate that day are what Jesus came to address. The very act of baptism both cleanses us from sin and welcomes us into a lifetime of improving who we are through an on-going relationship with Christ. Sure, I was weak that day, but it was alright. To say the least, I had a lot left to learn. I still do.
Monday, January 2, 2012
The Year of the Lord's Favor
Isaiah 61:1-2 "The Spirit of the Sovereign LORD is on me, because the LORD has anointed me...to proclaim the year of the LORD’s favor."
[Adapted from my New Year's Day sermon]
There has been a fair amount of hubbub about 2012 already, maybe more than for any year I can recall since 2000, what with all the talk about the end of the world and all. But let's place all that aside and focus on something productive. What will this new year hold for us? It may seem to be a question every new year brings, but what can we do about the answer? What can we do to make 2012 better than 2011? How can we make our lives more meaningful and productive, how can we grow and help others to grow, in this coming year?
I think we can start by looking at a short passage from the Prophet Isaiah:
The Spirit of the Sovereign LORD is on me,
because the LORD has anointed me
to proclaim good news to the poor.
He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,
to proclaim freedom for the captives
and release from darkness for the prisoners,
to proclaim the year of the LORD’s favor
and the day of vengeance of our God,
to comfort all who mourn,
and provide for those who grieve in Zion—
to bestow on them a crown of beauty
instead of ashes,
the oil of joy
instead of mourning,
and a garment of praise
instead of a spirit of despair.
They will be called oaks of righteousness,
a planting of the LORD
for the display of his splendor.
As we read these words, we need to remember that they are not really the words of Isaiah. Instead, he is prophesying a future message of the Messiah. Did the words sound familiar? If so, that might be because they show up again in the Gospel of Luke, Chapter 4. Jesus arrives in his hometown of Nazareth and goes to the synagogue, where he stands up to read from the scroll of Isaiah. He automatically find this text to read, and after reading the first few lines explains to the people, "Today this scripture is fulfilled in your hearing." To say the least, the people were not convinced. It would not be the last time that Jesus' promises would be ignored.
In this passage out of Isaiah, five kinds of people are being addressed: the poor, the brokenhearted, captives, prisoners, and those who mourn. Are we poor in spirit? Are our hearts broken in some way? Are we captive to sin? Are we bound by the darkness and snares of this crazy world? Do we mourn lost dreams? If so, then this message applies to us. The good news is that Jesus is anointed to address these issues. He brings good news to the poor, binds up broken hearts, releases prisoners from darkness, proclaims the year of the Lord's favor...
The year of the Lord's favor? What does that mean?
"The year of the Lord's favor" simply denotes a new era of blessing. It is not confined to a specific time in history or even a specific period of time. It is available to all people, at all times. Jesus speaks it into being, literally, by proclaiming it, both in Isaiah's prophecy and through his promise at Nazareth that the scripture is fulfilled. The year of the Lord's favor is there for the taking. The question is whether we will accept it.
The human race has a terrible tendency to rely upon the self, and not upon the maker. Our churches are great examples of this. In Asia, Africa, and in many other places, despite adversities such as poverty, oppression, and poor infrastructure, churches are booming due to trust in God. It is no great news for a church to triple in size in a year, or spawn new churches in nearby communities. And yet in the seemingly "Christian" West, with wealth, freedom, and established buildings, leadership structures, and everything else we might think necessary, it is usually an accomplishment if church growth outpaces deaths and drop-outs at the end of each year. Why? Because far too often our established churches and their denominations rely on programs and committees to do what God does best -- change lives.
Every time the ancient Hebrews believed in God's blessings, blessings were showered upon them. Every time they tried to succeed on their own, they met with utter failure. There are no exceptions in the whole of the Old Testament to this simple fact. What's more, they never, as a whole, learned the lesson. Perhaps more amazingly, neither do we. Where is our faith? Where is our common sense, even? If we can call upon the creator of the universe and judge of the world for aid, why on earth do we try to do things on our own? Why rely on our own fragile and finite selves when we can rely on God Most High?
So here we are, in 2012. As we think back upon all God has brought us through, look ahead at all He can still do. Remember that He wants to bless us, to change us, to redeem us, to refine us. Let us make the decision that this will be the year; that starting today, we will heed the promise of Jesus and accept the year of the Lord's favor. Jesus has proclaimed it, so let it come, let it be as he has promised. Let this be the year that you open your heart, your mind, your soul, your life to God, to be changed forever.
[Adapted from my New Year's Day sermon]
There has been a fair amount of hubbub about 2012 already, maybe more than for any year I can recall since 2000, what with all the talk about the end of the world and all. But let's place all that aside and focus on something productive. What will this new year hold for us? It may seem to be a question every new year brings, but what can we do about the answer? What can we do to make 2012 better than 2011? How can we make our lives more meaningful and productive, how can we grow and help others to grow, in this coming year?
I think we can start by looking at a short passage from the Prophet Isaiah:
The Spirit of the Sovereign LORD is on me,
because the LORD has anointed me
to proclaim good news to the poor.
He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,
to proclaim freedom for the captives
and release from darkness for the prisoners,
to proclaim the year of the LORD’s favor
and the day of vengeance of our God,
to comfort all who mourn,
and provide for those who grieve in Zion—
to bestow on them a crown of beauty
instead of ashes,
the oil of joy
instead of mourning,
and a garment of praise
instead of a spirit of despair.
They will be called oaks of righteousness,
a planting of the LORD
for the display of his splendor.
As we read these words, we need to remember that they are not really the words of Isaiah. Instead, he is prophesying a future message of the Messiah. Did the words sound familiar? If so, that might be because they show up again in the Gospel of Luke, Chapter 4. Jesus arrives in his hometown of Nazareth and goes to the synagogue, where he stands up to read from the scroll of Isaiah. He automatically find this text to read, and after reading the first few lines explains to the people, "Today this scripture is fulfilled in your hearing." To say the least, the people were not convinced. It would not be the last time that Jesus' promises would be ignored.
In this passage out of Isaiah, five kinds of people are being addressed: the poor, the brokenhearted, captives, prisoners, and those who mourn. Are we poor in spirit? Are our hearts broken in some way? Are we captive to sin? Are we bound by the darkness and snares of this crazy world? Do we mourn lost dreams? If so, then this message applies to us. The good news is that Jesus is anointed to address these issues. He brings good news to the poor, binds up broken hearts, releases prisoners from darkness, proclaims the year of the Lord's favor...
The year of the Lord's favor? What does that mean?
"The year of the Lord's favor" simply denotes a new era of blessing. It is not confined to a specific time in history or even a specific period of time. It is available to all people, at all times. Jesus speaks it into being, literally, by proclaiming it, both in Isaiah's prophecy and through his promise at Nazareth that the scripture is fulfilled. The year of the Lord's favor is there for the taking. The question is whether we will accept it.
The human race has a terrible tendency to rely upon the self, and not upon the maker. Our churches are great examples of this. In Asia, Africa, and in many other places, despite adversities such as poverty, oppression, and poor infrastructure, churches are booming due to trust in God. It is no great news for a church to triple in size in a year, or spawn new churches in nearby communities. And yet in the seemingly "Christian" West, with wealth, freedom, and established buildings, leadership structures, and everything else we might think necessary, it is usually an accomplishment if church growth outpaces deaths and drop-outs at the end of each year. Why? Because far too often our established churches and their denominations rely on programs and committees to do what God does best -- change lives.
Every time the ancient Hebrews believed in God's blessings, blessings were showered upon them. Every time they tried to succeed on their own, they met with utter failure. There are no exceptions in the whole of the Old Testament to this simple fact. What's more, they never, as a whole, learned the lesson. Perhaps more amazingly, neither do we. Where is our faith? Where is our common sense, even? If we can call upon the creator of the universe and judge of the world for aid, why on earth do we try to do things on our own? Why rely on our own fragile and finite selves when we can rely on God Most High?
So here we are, in 2012. As we think back upon all God has brought us through, look ahead at all He can still do. Remember that He wants to bless us, to change us, to redeem us, to refine us. Let us make the decision that this will be the year; that starting today, we will heed the promise of Jesus and accept the year of the Lord's favor. Jesus has proclaimed it, so let it come, let it be as he has promised. Let this be the year that you open your heart, your mind, your soul, your life to God, to be changed forever.
Sunday, November 27, 2011
And Advent Begins
Hebrews 1:2 "In these last days he has spoken to us by his Son, whom he appointed heir of all things, and through whom also he made the universe."
Place yourself back in time. Imagine, no books have been written about Jesus yet, and in fact the thing we know of as the New Testament isn't even a remote thought in anyone's mind. A few copies of letters about The Way are floating around, back and forth among the church leaders in the towns and cities of the empire. There's also a copy of Jesus' sayings, though you have no idea that someday people named Matthew and Luke will use this as a source for their own gospels. Those classic accounts have yet to be written. There is no liturgy, no hymnal, no church hierarchy, in fact, no solid body of teachings…in your world there’s just you, your group of believers, and a few itinerant preachers, wandering the Mediterranean.
You’re Jewish. You’ve given up everything to follow this idea of Jesus the Christ. Your parents disowned you. Your synagogue made it clear they don’t want to see your face again. People who used to do business with you now actively ignore and malign you.
The Roman occupiers don’t see a big difference between Jews and the new Christians, but they don’t trust your movement anyway. Something about it seems seditious to them. So you worship underground, sometimes literally so. And given the circumstances some days come when you wonder if you’re just a fool for believing in this man who said he was coming back again someday.
And then, one day, you hear a sermon at one of your gatherings. This is a special sermon, one circulated among the church leaders and written by some great preacher, though already people are unsure of who wrote it. You hear some people guess it was Apollos. You've never met him but you know he has a reputation for eloquence. A few people wonder if it was written by Paul. You've never met him either but you've heard he is a learned man. Either way, it's largely unimportant to your fellow Christians who wrote this message, you all just know it is something special. And moreover, though there are already a lot of gentile Christians, this sermon is meant for you, a Jew.
You feel a chill to hear the speaker just come out and talk like this. He is explaining exactly what makes this faith different, and why it cannot be reconciled with Judaism as you grew up knowing it. He explains, right here, why everyone who you know and love has turned against you. These are the words of a spiritual revolution. To truly believe them is an act of rebellion against all you have ever known.
But the preacher is bold. He has this gift you’ve been hearing about called the Holy Spirit. You’re a Jew, so you know of the ruach, the spirit of God, but this is something more personal, more real, more immediate. You don’t really understand it but you certainly know it is real. Its power cannot be denied. And is shivers in the bold voice of the speaker as he declares the divinity of this man:
You were raised in a mad, mad world, full of violence and oppression. Growing up, you weren't a brilliant scholar of the Torah, but you learned a lot of it, and certainly enough to know the history of your people, where they had been, what they had been, and what had become of them over time. Many times in your youth, and now as well, you were dogged by questions. If God’s people had sinned so badly that they were now in this sad predicament, how could they ever get out of it? How could the people ever atone and win God’s favor back? Was it even possible? Did God even care anymore? Was He simply tired of Israel? Had He turned His back on His nation?
So when you had first heard about Jesus you were skeptical, but your interest was piqued. You're reminded now of that first flush of hope but also of amazement; aamazement, that a man could provide purification for sins, and then go to Heaven and be there to speak for us. The preacher mentions it as a matter of fact, but it still awes you.
Place yourself back in time. Imagine, no books have been written about Jesus yet, and in fact the thing we know of as the New Testament isn't even a remote thought in anyone's mind. A few copies of letters about The Way are floating around, back and forth among the church leaders in the towns and cities of the empire. There's also a copy of Jesus' sayings, though you have no idea that someday people named Matthew and Luke will use this as a source for their own gospels. Those classic accounts have yet to be written. There is no liturgy, no hymnal, no church hierarchy, in fact, no solid body of teachings…in your world there’s just you, your group of believers, and a few itinerant preachers, wandering the Mediterranean.
You’re Jewish. You’ve given up everything to follow this idea of Jesus the Christ. Your parents disowned you. Your synagogue made it clear they don’t want to see your face again. People who used to do business with you now actively ignore and malign you.
The Roman occupiers don’t see a big difference between Jews and the new Christians, but they don’t trust your movement anyway. Something about it seems seditious to them. So you worship underground, sometimes literally so. And given the circumstances some days come when you wonder if you’re just a fool for believing in this man who said he was coming back again someday.
And then, one day, you hear a sermon at one of your gatherings. This is a special sermon, one circulated among the church leaders and written by some great preacher, though already people are unsure of who wrote it. You hear some people guess it was Apollos. You've never met him but you know he has a reputation for eloquence. A few people wonder if it was written by Paul. You've never met him either but you've heard he is a learned man. Either way, it's largely unimportant to your fellow Christians who wrote this message, you all just know it is something special. And moreover, though there are already a lot of gentile Christians, this sermon is meant for you, a Jew.
In the past God spoke to our ancestors through the prophets at many times and in various ways, but in these last days he has spoken to us by his Son, whom he appointed heir of all things, and through whom also he made the universe.
You feel a chill to hear the speaker just come out and talk like this. He is explaining exactly what makes this faith different, and why it cannot be reconciled with Judaism as you grew up knowing it. He explains, right here, why everyone who you know and love has turned against you. These are the words of a spiritual revolution. To truly believe them is an act of rebellion against all you have ever known.
But the preacher is bold. He has this gift you’ve been hearing about called the Holy Spirit. You’re a Jew, so you know of the ruach, the spirit of God, but this is something more personal, more real, more immediate. You don’t really understand it but you certainly know it is real. Its power cannot be denied. And is shivers in the bold voice of the speaker as he declares the divinity of this man:
The Son is the radiance of God’s glory and the exact representation of his being, sustaining all things by his powerful word.
You were raised in a mad, mad world, full of violence and oppression. Growing up, you weren't a brilliant scholar of the Torah, but you learned a lot of it, and certainly enough to know the history of your people, where they had been, what they had been, and what had become of them over time. Many times in your youth, and now as well, you were dogged by questions. If God’s people had sinned so badly that they were now in this sad predicament, how could they ever get out of it? How could the people ever atone and win God’s favor back? Was it even possible? Did God even care anymore? Was He simply tired of Israel? Had He turned His back on His nation?
So when you had first heard about Jesus you were skeptical, but your interest was piqued. You're reminded now of that first flush of hope but also of amazement; aamazement, that a man could provide purification for sins, and then go to Heaven and be there to speak for us. The preacher mentions it as a matter of fact, but it still awes you.
After he had provided purification for sins, he sat down at the right hand of the Majesty in heaven.
And he keeps saying things that rock the foundations of your world. Things your parents would curse at you for saying:
So he became as much superior to the angels as the name he has inherited is superior to theirs. For to which of the angels did God ever say, “You are my Son; today I have become your Father”? Or again, “I will be his Father, and he will be my Son”?
The preacher uses bits of scripture to point to Jesus, and it makes a lot of sense to you, but to so many outside the walls of your little house church it just sounds like heresy and blasphemy. The very Psalms themselves are used to prove the speaker’s point, and you shudder to think that the Lord the psalmist spoke of would have been this man who was executed on a cross.
Yes, step back in time and hear these words as they once were heard. Your world has been shaken, your past ripped from you and transformed into mere prelude; all your faith changed, energized, and challenged...and the sermon has only just begun. By the end of the hour you will be in tears and your limbs shivering, because you are accepting the unacceptable; believing the unbelievable. God became man, and died for your sins, and waits for you in heaven.
These are not mere words on a page. These are not mere pages in a book. This is the spoken message about the Word, the Logos, the very breath of God Almighty. This is the first flush of hearing the message and believing it. If you want to comprehend Advent, you have to understand that. You have to live it, or re-live it. You have to go back in time, put yourself in that frightening, exciting place, and believe.
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