When I need to know how to dress for the day, or whether or not to close my windows, I check weather.com. I can get a detailed forecast 48 hours ahead, or a more general one ten days out. In former times, and today in less Web-connected places, people had other ways of predicting the weather.
He also said to the crowds, ‘When you see a cloud rising in the west, you immediately say, “It is going to rain”; and so it happens. And when you see the south wind blowing, you say, “There will be scorching heat”; and it happens. You hypocrites! You know how to interpret the appearance of earth and sky, but why do you not know how to interpret the present time?
In this week’s reading, Jesus talks about an impending crisis.
‘I came to bring fire to the earth, and how I wish it were already kindled! I have a baptism with which to be baptized, and what stress I am under until it is completed!
He does not clarify the exact nature of this crisis, but he’s furious that his followers seem unable to discern what is happening. From where we stand, it appears he is referring to his spiritual battle with the forces of evil,and the human structures and systems that allow evil to have its sway. He is on a mission to burn away the chaff of sin, and to release the captives who are bound to it. And the way he will do that, this “baptism with which to be baptized,” is his upcoming passion and death.
Okay, so Jesus accomplished that liberation. Is there more discernment for us? Do we need to scan signs to predict what is to come? How are we to read this troubling passage?
Jesus did accomplish the redemption of the world on the cross, and confirmed that in his rising to new life on Easter morning. Yet his work is still being brought to completion. The devil’s days are numbered but, we can see, sin and evil are still having a pretty good run. And the means by which God seems to have chosen to engage these final skirmishes is through us. We don’t need to battle evil – but we do need to see it, name it, and call in the spiritual forces of God to overwhelm it.
Paul writes that one of the gifts given to Christ-followers is the ability to discern spirits – to know when evil is present, to know when God is present. We are called to pay attention to the clouds darkening our land, the prevailing winds blowing in the world, and to pray all the more when the signs indicate bad weather ahead. We don’t need to shrivel up in a heap when things look bad, or tuck our heads into the sands of our many modes of distraction and avoidance – we can stand firm on the promises of God, the saving work of Christ, our identity as redeemed sinners and saints of the Realm of God.
Evil cannot stand against the name of Jesus. It is our work to invoke his name and his power, early and often.
8-9-16 - Division
Reading the prophets of Israel can feel like witnessing an abusive relationship. “I love you, I love you, I love you,” “Wham! You’ll get what you deserve.” “Oh, but I love you and one day it’ll all be wonderful…” These writings tell the story of a broken relationship between God and God’s chosen people, who seemed incapable of fidelity despite God’s gracious provision and forgiveness. And the way the prophets rendered the words of God (and the way those who later wrote down those words conveyed them) often make God sound like a petty tyrant as well as a thwarted lover.
We get a sense of real danger as well as deep disappointment, “Here is what I wanted for you, what I did everything to ensure for you – but you could not stay with me, and now I can’t protect you from the consequences of your choices.” It’s often a bitter message, and I confess as I read both the gospel appointed for this Sunday and the passage from Isaiah, I can’t help but think of where our country is and seems to be headed. I’m caught reading these texts through that lens this week.
We’ll start with the Gospel, which shows Jesus in a dire mood, speaking of fire and division. He has just been telling a parable about being prepared for God’s appearing, and he seems pretty ticked off:
‘I came to bring fire to the earth, and how I wish it were already kindled! I have a baptism with which to be baptized, and what stress I am under until it is completed! Do you think that I have come to bring peace to the earth? No, I tell you, but rather division!’
If division is what Jesus was after, he’d be happy in America at this moment in our history. We are defined by many things other than our divisions, but lately our fault lines seem to be getting more pronounced, the fissures widening. This cannot possibly be God’s will for us, can it?
Jesus is the Prince of Peace, as the angel foretold at his conception. He is the source of peace for us, and the power for us to be peacemakers. But let’s not forget: Jesus did come into this world to do battle with the powers of evil – that is the fight he was itching to engage, the fight he wants his followers to join him in. Each time those who might be his disciples capitulate to injustice, tolerate intolerance, benefit from systems rigged in favor of the white and wealthy, fail to love our neighbor as ourselves, we recede from that fight. And every time we make a different choice, an inconvenient or even sacrificial choice, we help usher in the reign of true peace Jesus brought into this world.
How does this scripture sit with you? Where are you being called to draw the line, to pray for the conversion of those who seek only their own good to the harm of others? We are called to stand with Jesus against evil and hate-mongering. That’s a division, if you will, one that can lead us to unity.
We get a sense of real danger as well as deep disappointment, “Here is what I wanted for you, what I did everything to ensure for you – but you could not stay with me, and now I can’t protect you from the consequences of your choices.” It’s often a bitter message, and I confess as I read both the gospel appointed for this Sunday and the passage from Isaiah, I can’t help but think of where our country is and seems to be headed. I’m caught reading these texts through that lens this week.
We’ll start with the Gospel, which shows Jesus in a dire mood, speaking of fire and division. He has just been telling a parable about being prepared for God’s appearing, and he seems pretty ticked off:
‘I came to bring fire to the earth, and how I wish it were already kindled! I have a baptism with which to be baptized, and what stress I am under until it is completed! Do you think that I have come to bring peace to the earth? No, I tell you, but rather division!’
If division is what Jesus was after, he’d be happy in America at this moment in our history. We are defined by many things other than our divisions, but lately our fault lines seem to be getting more pronounced, the fissures widening. This cannot possibly be God’s will for us, can it?
Jesus is the Prince of Peace, as the angel foretold at his conception. He is the source of peace for us, and the power for us to be peacemakers. But let’s not forget: Jesus did come into this world to do battle with the powers of evil – that is the fight he was itching to engage, the fight he wants his followers to join him in. Each time those who might be his disciples capitulate to injustice, tolerate intolerance, benefit from systems rigged in favor of the white and wealthy, fail to love our neighbor as ourselves, we recede from that fight. And every time we make a different choice, an inconvenient or even sacrificial choice, we help usher in the reign of true peace Jesus brought into this world.
How does this scripture sit with you? Where are you being called to draw the line, to pray for the conversion of those who seek only their own good to the harm of others? We are called to stand with Jesus against evil and hate-mongering. That’s a division, if you will, one that can lead us to unity.
8-5-16 - Home Away From Home
Those who follow Christ as Lord, who seek to receive and share His life with the world, are not called to settle. We are to be people on the move; the original name for the community of Christ-followers was “People of the Way.” I say this in the throes of settling deeply into a new home, having brought boxes and boxes of objects from my last home to make this one equally homey. I loved my last home, yet over the years I sometimes had to remind myself, “This is not yours. Some day you will have to leave this house.”
The same is true of our life in this world, my friends. As we learn to live this way, settling in for the day, yet ready to move tomorrow, we’re much more open to the Life with which God wants to fill and surround us. This is a quality the writer of Hebrews ascribes to the heroes of faith he lists – people who are moving toward their promised future in God, aware that they are not yet Home.
They confessed that they were strangers and foreigners on the earth, for people who speak in this way make it clear that they are seeking a homeland. If they had been thinking of the land that they had left behind, they would have had opportunity to return. But as it is, they desire a better country, that is, a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God; indeed, he has prepared a city for them.
When I baptize people, I remind them that they now have dual citizenship, passports in this world and in that realm we will enjoy for eternity with God. We already gain access to that land in this life, and living there intentionally can help us avoid getting too settled in the loves and joys with which we are blessed in this world. To hold those people and things and jobs we love, yet hold them lightly, ready to go when called, I consider to be the goal of the spiritual life.
Few of us want to consider ourselves strangers and foreigners on the earth, as the magnitude of our global refugee crisis acutely reminds us. But strangers we are to be, on the move, accepting hospitality where offered, getting by where it is not, expecting blessing in the famines as in the feasts. We do not go back to the places – or people – we think of as home; we move forward by faith into the future God has prepared for us.
As I finally leave my beloved house, I find God has prepared an equally delightful home for me to dwell in. But even this charming house and yard are as nothing compared to the city God has prepared for us. I intend to enjoy every moment of my life here, always remembering it is not mine to keep.
The same is true of our life in this world, my friends. As we learn to live this way, settling in for the day, yet ready to move tomorrow, we’re much more open to the Life with which God wants to fill and surround us. This is a quality the writer of Hebrews ascribes to the heroes of faith he lists – people who are moving toward their promised future in God, aware that they are not yet Home.
They confessed that they were strangers and foreigners on the earth, for people who speak in this way make it clear that they are seeking a homeland. If they had been thinking of the land that they had left behind, they would have had opportunity to return. But as it is, they desire a better country, that is, a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God; indeed, he has prepared a city for them.
When I baptize people, I remind them that they now have dual citizenship, passports in this world and in that realm we will enjoy for eternity with God. We already gain access to that land in this life, and living there intentionally can help us avoid getting too settled in the loves and joys with which we are blessed in this world. To hold those people and things and jobs we love, yet hold them lightly, ready to go when called, I consider to be the goal of the spiritual life.
Few of us want to consider ourselves strangers and foreigners on the earth, as the magnitude of our global refugee crisis acutely reminds us. But strangers we are to be, on the move, accepting hospitality where offered, getting by where it is not, expecting blessing in the famines as in the feasts. We do not go back to the places – or people – we think of as home; we move forward by faith into the future God has prepared for us.
As I finally leave my beloved house, I find God has prepared an equally delightful home for me to dwell in. But even this charming house and yard are as nothing compared to the city God has prepared for us. I intend to enjoy every moment of my life here, always remembering it is not mine to keep.
8-4-16 - Greeting God's Promises
The writer of Hebrews defines faith for us in a very particular way: the assurance of things hoped for; the conviction of things not seen. To illustrate his view he cites various parts of Abraham’s story, as well as a list of other biblical heroines and heroes of faith (read the whole chapter…) What makes these people exemplars of faith is not their “victories” – it is that they believed even though they never saw the full fruit of their longing delivered in their lifetimes.
All of these died in faith without having received the promises, but from a distance they saw and greeted them.
What a beautiful way of conceiving our faith life: seeing the promises of God in our mind and heart and spirit, and greeting those promises ahead on the road. I'm put in mind of the father of the prodigal son, “But while he was still far off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion; he ran and put his arms around him and kissed him.” What if we personified the promises of God? Would that help us anticipate them with more hope and faith?
I do believe we get to see and taste the goodness of God right here and now. I write this on the patio in the small back yard, alive with birdsong, of the adorable new house I moved into yesterday. I am staggered by the blessing of finding a house to rent in my price-range, within walking distance of the church, when I thought I’d have to be in an apartment or condo many miles away. In the scheme of things, this is a small blessing, but a huge reminder to me that God is faithful in greater things too.
Our invitation is to believe in God’s promise of Life, here and now and then and later; God’s promise of peace and provision and presence and power; to believe that God’s reign of justice will emerge, and more quickly as we engage in God’s work of bringing it into being; to believe that refugees will find homes and wars will cease and evildoers be converted and everyone will “sit under their own vines and under their own fig trees, and no one shall make them afraid.” (Micah 4:1-5) That is God’s great promise.
Just as God regards us from a distance as already fully righteous in Christ, so we are invited to pray and work and believe in God’s promises in the conviction that they are approaching, close enough to call out to on the road: “Hello there! I see you coming, and I can’t wait to see you up close!” These promises are moving toward us all the time – and we can run to them and embrace them and live them.
All of these died in faith without having received the promises, but from a distance they saw and greeted them.
What a beautiful way of conceiving our faith life: seeing the promises of God in our mind and heart and spirit, and greeting those promises ahead on the road. I'm put in mind of the father of the prodigal son, “But while he was still far off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion; he ran and put his arms around him and kissed him.” What if we personified the promises of God? Would that help us anticipate them with more hope and faith?
I do believe we get to see and taste the goodness of God right here and now. I write this on the patio in the small back yard, alive with birdsong, of the adorable new house I moved into yesterday. I am staggered by the blessing of finding a house to rent in my price-range, within walking distance of the church, when I thought I’d have to be in an apartment or condo many miles away. In the scheme of things, this is a small blessing, but a huge reminder to me that God is faithful in greater things too.
Our invitation is to believe in God’s promise of Life, here and now and then and later; God’s promise of peace and provision and presence and power; to believe that God’s reign of justice will emerge, and more quickly as we engage in God’s work of bringing it into being; to believe that refugees will find homes and wars will cease and evildoers be converted and everyone will “sit under their own vines and under their own fig trees, and no one shall make them afraid.” (Micah 4:1-5) That is God’s great promise.
Just as God regards us from a distance as already fully righteous in Christ, so we are invited to pray and work and believe in God’s promises in the conviction that they are approaching, close enough to call out to on the road: “Hello there! I see you coming, and I can’t wait to see you up close!” These promises are moving toward us all the time – and we can run to them and embrace them and live them.
8-3-16 - What We Cannot See
The last line of the reading from Genesis and the first in the passage from Hebrews flow so naturally into each other, it is as though they were one text. From “And Abram believed the Lord; and the Lord reckoned it to him as righteousness,” we go right into:
Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. Indeed, by faith our ancestors received approval. By faith we understand that the worlds were prepared by the word of God, so that what is seen was made from things that are not visible.
In fact, the writer of Hebrews uses Abraham as Exhibit A of his thesis, both Abraham's faithfulness in leaving his homeland and family and setting out with Sarai into the land God had promised him (“You think there is only one God, and he talks to you?!?”) and his believing the preposterous promise of heirs more numerous than the stars in the heavens or the sand on the seashore. Abraham is a pretty mixed bag when it comes to character and choices, but in his fidelity to the One God and the intimacy of that relationship as it is expressed in Genesis, he is a shining star.
Why is it so hard for us to feel sure about things we only hope for – for, once we receive what we hope for, we no longer need to hope. Why waver in our conviction about things we cannot see, cannot prove? We trust in engineers we don’t know, elected officials we hope have our interest at heart, online security, relationships, a whole web of systems and networks we hope will continue to work for us. Why not extend that degree of faith to the God whose Spirit is so often clearly discernible, if never visible?
Often what makes it so difficult is what we do see – evidence of pain and sorrow and the persistence of evil in this world. In the moments when those “realities” overwhelm us, the content of our faith can look like a fairy story told to calm anxious children. That’s why faith is a muscle that must be exercised, and practiced and tested. We never know what is around the next corner; we do know that God has been faithful and good throughout our lives, even in the times that were painful.
It comes down to this: our faith in what we cannot see needs to be stronger than our doubt in what we can. We believe, until faith gives way to sight.
Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. Indeed, by faith our ancestors received approval. By faith we understand that the worlds were prepared by the word of God, so that what is seen was made from things that are not visible.
In fact, the writer of Hebrews uses Abraham as Exhibit A of his thesis, both Abraham's faithfulness in leaving his homeland and family and setting out with Sarai into the land God had promised him (“You think there is only one God, and he talks to you?!?”) and his believing the preposterous promise of heirs more numerous than the stars in the heavens or the sand on the seashore. Abraham is a pretty mixed bag when it comes to character and choices, but in his fidelity to the One God and the intimacy of that relationship as it is expressed in Genesis, he is a shining star.
Why is it so hard for us to feel sure about things we only hope for – for, once we receive what we hope for, we no longer need to hope. Why waver in our conviction about things we cannot see, cannot prove? We trust in engineers we don’t know, elected officials we hope have our interest at heart, online security, relationships, a whole web of systems and networks we hope will continue to work for us. Why not extend that degree of faith to the God whose Spirit is so often clearly discernible, if never visible?
Often what makes it so difficult is what we do see – evidence of pain and sorrow and the persistence of evil in this world. In the moments when those “realities” overwhelm us, the content of our faith can look like a fairy story told to calm anxious children. That’s why faith is a muscle that must be exercised, and practiced and tested. We never know what is around the next corner; we do know that God has been faithful and good throughout our lives, even in the times that were painful.
It comes down to this: our faith in what we cannot see needs to be stronger than our doubt in what we can. We believe, until faith gives way to sight.
8-2-16 - Believing the Lord
Few texts from the Hebrew Bible are cited as much in the New Testament as this story of God’s promise to Abram. Paul refers to it in at least two letters (I think… with the impending move I have no time to look it up…), and it comes up in this week's passage from Hebrews. In the face of God's promise to protect and bless him, Abram replies that none of that means much to him, since he and Sarai will die childless.It sure seemed that way – they had been unable to conceive in their long marriage, and Sarai was now past childbearing. But God knew more than Abram could conceive:
But the word of the Lord came to him, ‘This man shall not be your heir; no one but your very own issue shall be your heir.’ He brought him outside and said, ‘Look towards heaven and count the stars, if you are able to count them.’ Then he said to him, ‘So shall your descendants be.’ And he believed the Lord; and the Lord reckoned it to him as righteousness.
It is this “reckoning to him as righteousness” that Paul refers to when building his case that we are saved through faith in Christ, not through our own righteous deeds. He makes the point that all Abram did was believe God’s promise that he would have descendants too numerous to count, despite all evidence to the contrary. It wasn’t good works, or “being a good person” that made him righteous in God’s eyes; it was only believing. Sola fide, as Martin Luther proclaimed.
It can be hard for us achievement-oriented producers to fathom just how little activity God desires from us. It seems that what God wants most is that we believe him, that we put our trust in God's promises, even when we cannot see how they could possibly pan out. First, of course, we must discern what promises God has made to us. Some people will at times receive a personal word of promise about something in their life. And we all can rely on the promises we receive in Scripture – the promise of God’s enduring presence (“I will never leave you or forsake you…”), God’s abiding peace (“The peace of Christ will guard your hearts and thoughts in Christ Jesus.”), God’s transforming power (“How much more with God give the Holy Spirit to those who ask!”), and of course, eternal life. There are more, but those are the hit parade.
Has there been a time when you were able to rely on God’s promise of restoration or peace in turbulent times? Are you able to simply believe in the face of what looks like impossibility? Believe that God desires blessing for God’s beloveds, even when we don’t know what the blessing will look like?
That’s really the goal of the Christian life, not “working our way to heaven,” but trusting in the absolute truth that Jesus has already paved that way for us. We have been “worded,” deemed righteous through the pure holiness of Christ, whatever we bring to the table. All that is left for us is to say thank you and believe this gift is real and enduring. Whatever “work” we do with God flows from there.
But the word of the Lord came to him, ‘This man shall not be your heir; no one but your very own issue shall be your heir.’ He brought him outside and said, ‘Look towards heaven and count the stars, if you are able to count them.’ Then he said to him, ‘So shall your descendants be.’ And he believed the Lord; and the Lord reckoned it to him as righteousness.
It is this “reckoning to him as righteousness” that Paul refers to when building his case that we are saved through faith in Christ, not through our own righteous deeds. He makes the point that all Abram did was believe God’s promise that he would have descendants too numerous to count, despite all evidence to the contrary. It wasn’t good works, or “being a good person” that made him righteous in God’s eyes; it was only believing. Sola fide, as Martin Luther proclaimed.
It can be hard for us achievement-oriented producers to fathom just how little activity God desires from us. It seems that what God wants most is that we believe him, that we put our trust in God's promises, even when we cannot see how they could possibly pan out. First, of course, we must discern what promises God has made to us. Some people will at times receive a personal word of promise about something in their life. And we all can rely on the promises we receive in Scripture – the promise of God’s enduring presence (“I will never leave you or forsake you…”), God’s abiding peace (“The peace of Christ will guard your hearts and thoughts in Christ Jesus.”), God’s transforming power (“How much more with God give the Holy Spirit to those who ask!”), and of course, eternal life. There are more, but those are the hit parade.
Has there been a time when you were able to rely on God’s promise of restoration or peace in turbulent times? Are you able to simply believe in the face of what looks like impossibility? Believe that God desires blessing for God’s beloveds, even when we don’t know what the blessing will look like?
That’s really the goal of the Christian life, not “working our way to heaven,” but trusting in the absolute truth that Jesus has already paved that way for us. We have been “worded,” deemed righteous through the pure holiness of Christ, whatever we bring to the table. All that is left for us is to say thank you and believe this gift is real and enduring. Whatever “work” we do with God flows from there.
8-1-16 - Promises, Promises
This is the week of my big move, and I have no business splashing around in Water Daily – and, truth be told, I could give the gospel reading a miss. (If you want to read what I wrote about it three years ago, here you go.) But two of the other readings set for Sunday are calling me to comment. Each in its way is a foundational text for followers of Christ.
Let’s spend a few days with the first, a reading from Genesis.
After these things the word of the Lord came to Abram in a vision, ‘Do not be afraid, Abram, I am your shield; your reward shall be very great.’ But Abram said, ‘O Lord God, what will you give me, for I continue childless, and the heir of my house is Eliezer of Damascus?’ And Abram said, ‘You have given me no offspring, and so a slave born in my house is to be my heir.’
This encounter between God and Abram takes place after Abram has won a great battle and been blessed by the great Melchizedek, the King of Salem (or “peace…”). He is on a personal and professional high – and here comes the word of the Lord, promising protection and reward. Is Abram grateful for this divine communication? No; he replies, “So what? You’re blessing me right and left – but the one thing I want most in the world I cannot have: a child and an heir. This schmuck Eliezer, my distant cousin, is to inherit all the wealth I’m amassing? What good are your promises?”
And God does not say, “You want a glass for that whine?” God goes on to make him a promise that changes the course of human history – but more on that tomorrow. Today let’s stay with Abram’s lament. Have you ever felt that way? Able to enumerate many blessings, but bereft in the areas that mean most to you? Sometimes I think the very fact that we so deeply want certain things can keep us from being open to receiving them. We’re looking too hard for blessings in certain areas and stuck in anxiety. I don’t tend to worry about money, and have always been fine financially. I felt deprived in the relationship arena, and remain single.
One day, as I was awaiting word on whether or not I’d been selected for my new job, I was praying and sensed God say, “You can’t take this. It has to be given to you. Keep your hands open.” On one level, this was obvious – the decision was out of my hands. But this was a deeper word for my spirit – not to always think I have to make things happen; to let go and watch what God can do when we’re just open to blessings wherever they come. At no point did I know I was going to get the job – I only knew I would be blessed, one way or the other. After that, I was unable to locate any anxiety about it. It was the weirdest thing.
God has a timetable we cannot program or mess with, and often can only discern in hindsight. God had promises for Abram. God has promises for you. Whine all you want – and then open your hands in joyful expectation.
Let’s spend a few days with the first, a reading from Genesis.
After these things the word of the Lord came to Abram in a vision, ‘Do not be afraid, Abram, I am your shield; your reward shall be very great.’ But Abram said, ‘O Lord God, what will you give me, for I continue childless, and the heir of my house is Eliezer of Damascus?’ And Abram said, ‘You have given me no offspring, and so a slave born in my house is to be my heir.’
This encounter between God and Abram takes place after Abram has won a great battle and been blessed by the great Melchizedek, the King of Salem (or “peace…”). He is on a personal and professional high – and here comes the word of the Lord, promising protection and reward. Is Abram grateful for this divine communication? No; he replies, “So what? You’re blessing me right and left – but the one thing I want most in the world I cannot have: a child and an heir. This schmuck Eliezer, my distant cousin, is to inherit all the wealth I’m amassing? What good are your promises?”
And God does not say, “You want a glass for that whine?” God goes on to make him a promise that changes the course of human history – but more on that tomorrow. Today let’s stay with Abram’s lament. Have you ever felt that way? Able to enumerate many blessings, but bereft in the areas that mean most to you? Sometimes I think the very fact that we so deeply want certain things can keep us from being open to receiving them. We’re looking too hard for blessings in certain areas and stuck in anxiety. I don’t tend to worry about money, and have always been fine financially. I felt deprived in the relationship arena, and remain single.
One day, as I was awaiting word on whether or not I’d been selected for my new job, I was praying and sensed God say, “You can’t take this. It has to be given to you. Keep your hands open.” On one level, this was obvious – the decision was out of my hands. But this was a deeper word for my spirit – not to always think I have to make things happen; to let go and watch what God can do when we’re just open to blessings wherever they come. At no point did I know I was going to get the job – I only knew I would be blessed, one way or the other. After that, I was unable to locate any anxiety about it. It was the weirdest thing.
God has a timetable we cannot program or mess with, and often can only discern in hindsight. God had promises for Abram. God has promises for you. Whine all you want – and then open your hands in joyful expectation.
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