You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
There is a prayer for mission in the Episcopal rite of Morning Prayer that begins like this: Lord Jesus Christ, you stretched out your arms of love on the hard wood of the cross that everyone might come within the reach of your saving embrace.
It is a lovely thought, to take the brutal image of a man nailed to a cross beam, his arms spread wide, and call it an embrace. Or it’s a horrible thought. Or both. A child once asked me, “Why do they call it Good Friday? How can it be a good day If Jesus died?” We call it “good” because we believe that we are drawn into that saving embrace, whether or not Jesus chose the position of his arms.
And, in part, we believe that because of what he said, at the end of this passage we read on Sunday - “Now is the judgement 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.’ He said this to indicate the kind of death he was to die."
By “ruler of this world” he means Satan, the personification of corrupting, life-sapping evil, whose power to tempt humanity away from the love of their Creator gained him authority over this world, this limited, created realm. Satan, not the authorities with whom Jesus so often tangled, was Jesus’ adversary. He was the one from whom humanity needed saving. His weapon of choice has always been death, and Jesus had to put death to death.
In using this language, Jesus anticipated the horror ahead and framed it in the context of his mission in this world, his Father’s mission to reclaim, restore, renew all of creation to wholeness. In being lifted up on that cross, the very picture of powerlessness, Jesus would exercise all the power that created worlds to break “death’s fearful hold.” That’s why the earth shook and the sun was blocked out when he died. Because he’d broken the power of evil and death, once and for all. For all of creation.
This was to be the way God would draw all people back to himself. Yet we know that all people have not come within reach of that saving embrace. Some have come near and chosen not to stay; others have grown up around this tale and never knew it was a love story. And some have never heard, because we haven’t told them.
We are approaching the powerful mysteries of Holy Week, when we tiptoe closer to this awful love story than we really want to. “Did you really have to go through that to save me?” we think. I hope you will choose to walk closely the way of the cross this year, along with your faith community. (Our services on Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Good Friday will be online here at 7 pm… you’re welcome to join.)
Jesus' embrace on the cross was wide enough to include people who don’t believe in him, or are hostile to him, or don’t know anything about him. It was wide enough to include those who had him killed, and those who did the killing. It was wide enough to include every enemy, every stranger. And it was wide enough for you and me, even when we allow the things of this world to claim our focus. Can we turn and receive the love God has poured out for us in Christ? Come into that saving embrace and find Life.
© Kate Heichler, 2024. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
Showing posts with label salvation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label salvation. Show all posts
11-29-23 - Election or Selection?
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
It’s been a challenging few weeks in Gospel-lectionary Land for people who believe in universal salvation, the doctrine that all are saved by Christ’s redeeming work, whether or not they believe or want to be included. Last Sunday it was Jesus’ vision of the final judgment, with the righteous sorted from the damned. This week we hear about the end times, and this troubling verse: “Then they will see ‘the Son of Man coming in clouds’ with great power and glory. Then he will send out the angels, and gather his elect from the four winds, from the ends of the earth to the ends of heaven.”
Just what, or who, is meant by “his elect?” Can anyone join that party, or do you have to be invited or, worse, elected? For us the word “election” implies a democratic process, but theologians of old used that word to connote God’s choosing us for salvation. It’s more selection than election, and in some passages Jesus suggests it is not automatic, giving rise to the doctrine of predestination, the belief that some are chosen for salvation - or not.
There is some comfort in the notion that there is nothing we can do to secure eternal salvation – that is grace, which is pure gift. But most folks like to be able to control their destinies, to earn their way. And what if some get the gift and some do not? What if “winning the lottery” on earth, by where we are born, and in what color skin, and with what accompanying resources and privileges, means we are shut out of the heavenly courts? What about faith and belief? Some passages imply this is the key, the one response required from us to what God freely offers.
It is human nature to look at a phrase like “his elect” and immediately wonder about the opposite – who loses. But nothing in that word implies a limit – everyone might be God’s “elect.” If the love of God is as merciful and all-encompassing as Jesus implies in some of his teaching, then we might imagine that those being gathered from the four winds includes most if not all of humanity. It's one reason we are to make the love and power of Jesus known in our lives.
It is not given to us to know who is or is not “elect.” Christians who presume to judge that for others are usurping a role reserved strictly for God. Jesus told us only to love one another as God has loved us – with mercy and compassion and truthfulness and healing. That should keep us busy enough not to have time to worry about who’s “in” and who’s “out,” even ourselves.
One of my parishioners once told me of her 4-year-old grand-niece, who had spoken about her recent baptism at Show & Tell. Asked by a teacher what baptism meant, the girl said, “It means that even when you’re not perfect, God forgives you.” Bingo!
Instead of worrying about whether or not we’re included, let’s set about being the kind of Christian community in which that girl, and all her peers, grow into adulthood holding that perfect knowledge. A church that knows that in its guts can transform the world in Amazing Grace.
SATURDAY - ADVENT RETREAT MORNING "SPA FOR THE SPIRIT" (online) December 2, 9-12:30. Register here; information and Zoom link will be sent prior to the event.
It’s been a challenging few weeks in Gospel-lectionary Land for people who believe in universal salvation, the doctrine that all are saved by Christ’s redeeming work, whether or not they believe or want to be included. Last Sunday it was Jesus’ vision of the final judgment, with the righteous sorted from the damned. This week we hear about the end times, and this troubling verse: “Then they will see ‘the Son of Man coming in clouds’ with great power and glory. Then he will send out the angels, and gather his elect from the four winds, from the ends of the earth to the ends of heaven.”
Just what, or who, is meant by “his elect?” Can anyone join that party, or do you have to be invited or, worse, elected? For us the word “election” implies a democratic process, but theologians of old used that word to connote God’s choosing us for salvation. It’s more selection than election, and in some passages Jesus suggests it is not automatic, giving rise to the doctrine of predestination, the belief that some are chosen for salvation - or not.
There is some comfort in the notion that there is nothing we can do to secure eternal salvation – that is grace, which is pure gift. But most folks like to be able to control their destinies, to earn their way. And what if some get the gift and some do not? What if “winning the lottery” on earth, by where we are born, and in what color skin, and with what accompanying resources and privileges, means we are shut out of the heavenly courts? What about faith and belief? Some passages imply this is the key, the one response required from us to what God freely offers.
It is human nature to look at a phrase like “his elect” and immediately wonder about the opposite – who loses. But nothing in that word implies a limit – everyone might be God’s “elect.” If the love of God is as merciful and all-encompassing as Jesus implies in some of his teaching, then we might imagine that those being gathered from the four winds includes most if not all of humanity. It's one reason we are to make the love and power of Jesus known in our lives.
It is not given to us to know who is or is not “elect.” Christians who presume to judge that for others are usurping a role reserved strictly for God. Jesus told us only to love one another as God has loved us – with mercy and compassion and truthfulness and healing. That should keep us busy enough not to have time to worry about who’s “in” and who’s “out,” even ourselves.
One of my parishioners once told me of her 4-year-old grand-niece, who had spoken about her recent baptism at Show & Tell. Asked by a teacher what baptism meant, the girl said, “It means that even when you’re not perfect, God forgives you.” Bingo!
Instead of worrying about whether or not we’re included, let’s set about being the kind of Christian community in which that girl, and all her peers, grow into adulthood holding that perfect knowledge. A church that knows that in its guts can transform the world in Amazing Grace.
To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
SATURDAY - ADVENT RETREAT MORNING "SPA FOR THE SPIRIT" (online) December 2, 9-12:30. Register here; information and Zoom link will be sent prior to the event.
11-23-23 - Jesus' Family
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Many in America will gather with family today. Will we have a foretaste of heaven or hell? Jesus draws a sharp distinction between those two realms in this vision of the End. Behind Door#1 is an inheritance of infinite and eternal value: "Then the king will say to those at his right hand, 'Come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world.'”
Behind Door #2? Damnation: "Then he will say to those at his left hand, “You that are accursed, depart from me into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels.”
Jesus so wants to emphasize this teaching that he repeats the whole narrative of “hungry, thirsty, stranger, naked, sick, in prison,” in almost the same words – but the second time he indicts people for what they did not do: “…for I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, (etc.)
...Then they also will answer, “Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and did not take care of you?” Then he will answer them, “Truly I tell you, just as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to me.”
It’s a low bar, to have to serve only “one” of the least. Maybe the folks in the "cursed" line couldn’t even do that, and are left to the consequences of their self-gratifying narcissism and cruel neglect of those with whom they shared this planet. Let’s hope there aren’t too many in that line.
The folks on the right are perhaps continuing a relationship with Jesus they embarked upon in their earthly life. In taking care of the “least of these” members of what Jesus calls his family, they have become part of the family themselves and thus inheritors of the Realm of God.
This parable is about more than “doing good,” or “charity,” or taking care of the “less fortunate.” It goes deeper – the blessed are those who not only serve but identify with the stranger, the sick, the incarcerated, the hungry, the naked, the thirsty. indeed are willing to see them as family. They don’t see themselves as “other” or “better.” Maybe they help because they don’t believe they are any better, just more fortunate. Or they offer care because, like Mother Teresa with the lepers of Calcutta, they actually experience Christ’s presence in the ones in need.
Do you ever have the experience of helping someone and feeling you’re connected to Jesus in that moment? Or feel related to people in extreme need? When I have prayed with people in in homeless shelters, occasionally a moment of camaraderie breaks through my sense of being different from them. Then I feel like I'm their sister, not a "helper."
How might we become more open to people who seem so different from us – living hand to mouth, unable to stay sober, manipulating their way through life? If Jesus says those people are his family, and we’re his family, how might we share Thanksgiving with them?
SAVE THE DATE: Advent Spa for the Spirit (online) Saturday, December 3, 9-12:30. Register here; information and Zoom link will be sent prior to the event.
Many in America will gather with family today. Will we have a foretaste of heaven or hell? Jesus draws a sharp distinction between those two realms in this vision of the End. Behind Door#1 is an inheritance of infinite and eternal value: "Then the king will say to those at his right hand, 'Come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world.'”
Behind Door #2? Damnation: "Then he will say to those at his left hand, “You that are accursed, depart from me into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels.”
Jesus so wants to emphasize this teaching that he repeats the whole narrative of “hungry, thirsty, stranger, naked, sick, in prison,” in almost the same words – but the second time he indicts people for what they did not do: “…for I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, (etc.)
...Then they also will answer, “Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and did not take care of you?” Then he will answer them, “Truly I tell you, just as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to me.”
It’s a low bar, to have to serve only “one” of the least. Maybe the folks in the "cursed" line couldn’t even do that, and are left to the consequences of their self-gratifying narcissism and cruel neglect of those with whom they shared this planet. Let’s hope there aren’t too many in that line.
The folks on the right are perhaps continuing a relationship with Jesus they embarked upon in their earthly life. In taking care of the “least of these” members of what Jesus calls his family, they have become part of the family themselves and thus inheritors of the Realm of God.
This parable is about more than “doing good,” or “charity,” or taking care of the “less fortunate.” It goes deeper – the blessed are those who not only serve but identify with the stranger, the sick, the incarcerated, the hungry, the naked, the thirsty. indeed are willing to see them as family. They don’t see themselves as “other” or “better.” Maybe they help because they don’t believe they are any better, just more fortunate. Or they offer care because, like Mother Teresa with the lepers of Calcutta, they actually experience Christ’s presence in the ones in need.
Do you ever have the experience of helping someone and feeling you’re connected to Jesus in that moment? Or feel related to people in extreme need? When I have prayed with people in in homeless shelters, occasionally a moment of camaraderie breaks through my sense of being different from them. Then I feel like I'm their sister, not a "helper."
How might we become more open to people who seem so different from us – living hand to mouth, unable to stay sober, manipulating their way through life? If Jesus says those people are his family, and we’re his family, how might we share Thanksgiving with them?
SAVE THE DATE: Advent Spa for the Spirit (online) Saturday, December 3, 9-12:30. Register here; information and Zoom link will be sent prior to the event.
11-22-23 - Blessed Are the Unsuccessful
You can listen to this reflection here.
In this week’s gospel story, Jesus speaks of what will be “when the Son of Man comes in his glory.” I assume this means the end of the world as we know it – after all, when Jesus returns in glory and ushers in the reign of God’s perfect peace and justice, we’re kind of done. Roll up the sidewalks and repair to those heavenly mansions prepared for us, to enjoy an eternity of love at a never-ending banquet.
But according to this vision not everyone will be there – the “cursed” will be sorted out, the “blessed” invited in. And what is the criteria for this sorting? How we treat the hungry, the thirsty, the naked, the outsider, the sick, the imprisoned; in other words, the marginalized: “Then the king will say to those at his right hand, ‘Come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world; for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me.”
Jesus anticipates that the blessed will be baffled – “When did we see you hungry and feed you?” He says the king will answer: “Truly, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.”
We know that by “me” Jesus means himself – he, who called himself the "Son of Man” is the king in the story, and the marginalized are his family. This give us two big clues about how we might find ourselves on the right side in glory:
1. We will give ourselves to those who are not successful in worldly terms; being hungry, thirsty, unclothed, sick, or imprisoned are not markers of worldly success, right? And
2. We will give ourselves to Jesus, who said we’d find him in exactly those people.
The world looks for Jesus in fancy churches and gilded mosaics – and where has he always been found? In a stable amidst the straw; on the road, nowhere to lay his head; at dinner with toughs and low-lifes – and, finally, in a god-forsaken killing ground, the “Place of the Skull.” The only time we see Jesus in palaces is when he’s being interrogated in Herod and Pilate’s kangaroo courts.
This is the beauty of our salvation story: this unfathomable lowering of God himself into human form; the mystery that the One who IS outside of time and space consented to be bound in those dimensions, to live and die at the mercy of the very people he came to save, forgive, heal, redeem, set free. We see the Anointed One disguising his royalty in the rags of beggars and harlots, lepers and prisoners. And, as Martin Luther noted, we are the beneficiaries of this Great Exchange, as we trade in our rags for his royal robes.
Where do you usually look for Jesus? I often seek him in my prayer imagination, as that’s how he’s been most real to me. I forgot to look for him among the "unsuccessful." Do you know anyone you’d categorize as “unsuccessful” by the world’s measures? Have you seen Christ in that person? Is Jesus inviting you to look for him in a particular person or sort of person? What happens when you pray for that person today? What happens when you ask Jesus to reveal himself in that person or persons?
When we seek to love Jesus in an “unsuccessful" person we show them love too. They don’t know it’s Jesus we’re loving – they just know someone is seeing them, honoring them, feeding, tending to them. And gradually, as we keep it up, they become stronger and transformed into the very image of a “successful person.” Just like you and me, right?
SAVE THE DATE: Advent Spa for the Spirit (online) Saturday, December 3, 9-12:30.
In this week’s gospel story, Jesus speaks of what will be “when the Son of Man comes in his glory.” I assume this means the end of the world as we know it – after all, when Jesus returns in glory and ushers in the reign of God’s perfect peace and justice, we’re kind of done. Roll up the sidewalks and repair to those heavenly mansions prepared for us, to enjoy an eternity of love at a never-ending banquet.
But according to this vision not everyone will be there – the “cursed” will be sorted out, the “blessed” invited in. And what is the criteria for this sorting? How we treat the hungry, the thirsty, the naked, the outsider, the sick, the imprisoned; in other words, the marginalized: “Then the king will say to those at his right hand, ‘Come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world; for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me.”
Jesus anticipates that the blessed will be baffled – “When did we see you hungry and feed you?” He says the king will answer: “Truly, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.”
We know that by “me” Jesus means himself – he, who called himself the "Son of Man” is the king in the story, and the marginalized are his family. This give us two big clues about how we might find ourselves on the right side in glory:
1. We will give ourselves to those who are not successful in worldly terms; being hungry, thirsty, unclothed, sick, or imprisoned are not markers of worldly success, right? And
2. We will give ourselves to Jesus, who said we’d find him in exactly those people.
The world looks for Jesus in fancy churches and gilded mosaics – and where has he always been found? In a stable amidst the straw; on the road, nowhere to lay his head; at dinner with toughs and low-lifes – and, finally, in a god-forsaken killing ground, the “Place of the Skull.” The only time we see Jesus in palaces is when he’s being interrogated in Herod and Pilate’s kangaroo courts.
This is the beauty of our salvation story: this unfathomable lowering of God himself into human form; the mystery that the One who IS outside of time and space consented to be bound in those dimensions, to live and die at the mercy of the very people he came to save, forgive, heal, redeem, set free. We see the Anointed One disguising his royalty in the rags of beggars and harlots, lepers and prisoners. And, as Martin Luther noted, we are the beneficiaries of this Great Exchange, as we trade in our rags for his royal robes.
Where do you usually look for Jesus? I often seek him in my prayer imagination, as that’s how he’s been most real to me. I forgot to look for him among the "unsuccessful." Do you know anyone you’d categorize as “unsuccessful” by the world’s measures? Have you seen Christ in that person? Is Jesus inviting you to look for him in a particular person or sort of person? What happens when you pray for that person today? What happens when you ask Jesus to reveal himself in that person or persons?
When we seek to love Jesus in an “unsuccessful" person we show them love too. They don’t know it’s Jesus we’re loving – they just know someone is seeing them, honoring them, feeding, tending to them. And gradually, as we keep it up, they become stronger and transformed into the very image of a “successful person.” Just like you and me, right?
SAVE THE DATE: Advent Spa for the Spirit (online) Saturday, December 3, 9-12:30.
10-5-23 - Gotcha!
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
These parables Jesus told his “frenemies,” the scribes and Pharisees, have a pattern: story, question, gotcha. Jesus would describe a situation of obvious injustice and then ask how they would resolve it. They would give an answer that, once they realized who in the parable stood for them, indicted them. It’s amazing how often they fell for it.
So it is here. Jesus tells the story of the vineyard and the wicked tenants, and then asks, “’Now when the owner of the vineyard comes, what will he do to those tenants?’ They said to him, ‘He will put those wretches to a miserable death, and lease the vineyard to other tenants who will give him the produce at the harvest time.’”
“Gotcha,” Jesus says – “Have you never read in the scriptures: The stone that the builders rejected has become the cornerstone; this was the Lord’s doing, and it is amazing in our eyes’? Therefore I tell you, the kingdom of God will be taken away from you and given to a people that produces the fruits of the kingdom.”
God will take the leadership away from you, he says, and give it to others, outsiders, outcasts, outliers, who will produce the fruit at harvest time, the fruit of repentance, the fruit of good works, the fruit of worship. Jesus uses an image from Psalm 118:22, of a stone, once rejected as unsuitable, now become the cornerstone of a new building. This theme is oft-repeated in salvation history, as God chooses unlikely candidates on which to build his community, Jacob, Joseph, Moses, David. We see it fulfilled in Jesus.
Jesus takes this familiar verse and turns it against the leaders: "The one who falls on this stone will be broken to pieces; and it will crush anyone on whom it falls.”
Now the Pharisees and scribes realize he’s been talking about them, and the gloves are off. They begin to actively seek his arrest, but are afraid to offend the crowds, who see Jesus as a prophet. They might have taken what Jesus said to heart and examined their leadership, or welcomed the “unworthy" as full members of the religious community. But they were too stuck in their own pride and self-righteousness to choose a different course of action.
In prayer today, let’s remember leaders, religious or secular, who seem stuck or blind to the big picture. Let’s pray especially for those leaders whom we don’t trust – they need God’s blessing the most. And let’s pray for those who appear to be outsiders, whom we don’t want to welcome in.
It seems to be a principle that as soon as we start to think we’re insiders, God upsets the apple cart and invites outsiders to our party, challenging our notions of what should be. We may as well try to get there first, and invite those outliers in ourselves. Or better yet, go out and join them, so we can be invited in.
These parables Jesus told his “frenemies,” the scribes and Pharisees, have a pattern: story, question, gotcha. Jesus would describe a situation of obvious injustice and then ask how they would resolve it. They would give an answer that, once they realized who in the parable stood for them, indicted them. It’s amazing how often they fell for it.
So it is here. Jesus tells the story of the vineyard and the wicked tenants, and then asks, “’Now when the owner of the vineyard comes, what will he do to those tenants?’ They said to him, ‘He will put those wretches to a miserable death, and lease the vineyard to other tenants who will give him the produce at the harvest time.’”
“Gotcha,” Jesus says – “Have you never read in the scriptures: The stone that the builders rejected has become the cornerstone; this was the Lord’s doing, and it is amazing in our eyes’? Therefore I tell you, the kingdom of God will be taken away from you and given to a people that produces the fruits of the kingdom.”
God will take the leadership away from you, he says, and give it to others, outsiders, outcasts, outliers, who will produce the fruit at harvest time, the fruit of repentance, the fruit of good works, the fruit of worship. Jesus uses an image from Psalm 118:22, of a stone, once rejected as unsuitable, now become the cornerstone of a new building. This theme is oft-repeated in salvation history, as God chooses unlikely candidates on which to build his community, Jacob, Joseph, Moses, David. We see it fulfilled in Jesus.
Jesus takes this familiar verse and turns it against the leaders: "The one who falls on this stone will be broken to pieces; and it will crush anyone on whom it falls.”
Now the Pharisees and scribes realize he’s been talking about them, and the gloves are off. They begin to actively seek his arrest, but are afraid to offend the crowds, who see Jesus as a prophet. They might have taken what Jesus said to heart and examined their leadership, or welcomed the “unworthy" as full members of the religious community. But they were too stuck in their own pride and self-righteousness to choose a different course of action.
In prayer today, let’s remember leaders, religious or secular, who seem stuck or blind to the big picture. Let’s pray especially for those leaders whom we don’t trust – they need God’s blessing the most. And let’s pray for those who appear to be outsiders, whom we don’t want to welcome in.
It seems to be a principle that as soon as we start to think we’re insiders, God upsets the apple cart and invites outsiders to our party, challenging our notions of what should be. We may as well try to get there first, and invite those outliers in ourselves. Or better yet, go out and join them, so we can be invited in.
10-4-23 - The Son
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Many religious traditions revere figures who received a revelation which inspired that expression of spiritual life. Some have prophets, some gurus, some gods or goddesses, some martyrs. The Christian tradition goes further, claiming that, in addition to prophetic and angelic messengers, God sent his own son to reveal his truth and to set people free from the consequences of sin and death.
If an important person sends her daughter or son to represent her, it carries more weight than if an aide or staffer shows up. A daughter or son is more like that person, bearing her very DNA. The claim that Jesus of Nazareth was not only a good and holy man chosen by God as Messiah, but actually the incarnated son of God is a pretty big claim.
Why does it matter that we consider Jesus the fully human, fully divine Son of God? Jesus' incarnation is a gift for many reasons, an indication of how far God was willing to go to bridge the chasm to humankind. But perhaps it is in his sacrifice on the cross that the son-ship of Jesus matters most. As the sacrifice to end the whole bloody system of sacrifice, God offers the ultimate victim. As a friend once said, trying to explain the Cross – “You can’t get a bigger sacrificial victim than the Son of God.”
We can discuss another day whether Jesus had to die and how his sacrifice set us free… traditional Christian understanding says he did and it does; we must each find our way into that mystery. Today, let’s explore a smaller mystery – that in this parable, this very Son of God tells a story about a fictional son who will be beaten and killed by those charged with nurturing the harvest with which they’d been entrusted. Once again, Jesus is predicting his own death – and charging his listeners with murder. If they hadn’t already wanted to kill him, now they surely did.
In Jesus’ story, the wicked tenants seize the son, throw him out of the vineyard and kill him. Jesus was himself cast out by the temple leadership who could not swallow his claims of divinity – or his growing influence. They told themselves they were just getting rid of yet another troublemaker, not the Son of God. And yet Jesus’ son-ship remained a fact they had to deal with – even more after his death.
How does Jesus’ “son-ship” affect your faith? Do you feel closer to God through knowing Jesus, however imperfectly we may know him in this life?
These are questions worth exploring as we live into a relationship with God through the Son whom we meet in Yeshua of Nazareth. They are worth exploring in prayer – we can say simply, “Jesus, I want to know God more fully. Let me see you," and see what unfolds.
How does knowing Jesus help us draw nearer the mystery of God? Jesus told his followers that if they’d seen him, they’d seen the Father. The best way to find out is to invite the Holy Spirit to dwell with us. It is the Spirit who brings us the presence of Christ, every time.
Many religious traditions revere figures who received a revelation which inspired that expression of spiritual life. Some have prophets, some gurus, some gods or goddesses, some martyrs. The Christian tradition goes further, claiming that, in addition to prophetic and angelic messengers, God sent his own son to reveal his truth and to set people free from the consequences of sin and death.
If an important person sends her daughter or son to represent her, it carries more weight than if an aide or staffer shows up. A daughter or son is more like that person, bearing her very DNA. The claim that Jesus of Nazareth was not only a good and holy man chosen by God as Messiah, but actually the incarnated son of God is a pretty big claim.
Why does it matter that we consider Jesus the fully human, fully divine Son of God? Jesus' incarnation is a gift for many reasons, an indication of how far God was willing to go to bridge the chasm to humankind. But perhaps it is in his sacrifice on the cross that the son-ship of Jesus matters most. As the sacrifice to end the whole bloody system of sacrifice, God offers the ultimate victim. As a friend once said, trying to explain the Cross – “You can’t get a bigger sacrificial victim than the Son of God.”
We can discuss another day whether Jesus had to die and how his sacrifice set us free… traditional Christian understanding says he did and it does; we must each find our way into that mystery. Today, let’s explore a smaller mystery – that in this parable, this very Son of God tells a story about a fictional son who will be beaten and killed by those charged with nurturing the harvest with which they’d been entrusted. Once again, Jesus is predicting his own death – and charging his listeners with murder. If they hadn’t already wanted to kill him, now they surely did.
In Jesus’ story, the wicked tenants seize the son, throw him out of the vineyard and kill him. Jesus was himself cast out by the temple leadership who could not swallow his claims of divinity – or his growing influence. They told themselves they were just getting rid of yet another troublemaker, not the Son of God. And yet Jesus’ son-ship remained a fact they had to deal with – even more after his death.
How does Jesus’ “son-ship” affect your faith? Do you feel closer to God through knowing Jesus, however imperfectly we may know him in this life?
These are questions worth exploring as we live into a relationship with God through the Son whom we meet in Yeshua of Nazareth. They are worth exploring in prayer – we can say simply, “Jesus, I want to know God more fully. Let me see you," and see what unfolds.
How does knowing Jesus help us draw nearer the mystery of God? Jesus told his followers that if they’d seen him, they’d seen the Father. The best way to find out is to invite the Holy Spirit to dwell with us. It is the Spirit who brings us the presence of Christ, every time.
3-3-23 - God So Loved
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
If you ever had to memorize bible verses in Sunday School, chances are you can recite this one, John 3:16, favored by sports fans and poster-makers:
If you ever had to memorize bible verses in Sunday School, chances are you can recite this one, John 3:16, favored by sports fans and poster-makers:
“For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.”
This verse can evoke mixed emotions. It is a marvelous expression of God’s love for the world, a love so extravagant God willingly gave up his only son to save it. And it makes an extravagant promise – eternal life for those who believe in God’s only son. How we respond to this promise has everything to do with how much we feel the world is in need of saving, and how we feel about the “perishing” part.
For most of the Christian era, it has been generally accepted that people were lost in sin, for which the legitimate penalty was death without chance of pardon; and that God had designed a remedy to meet the demands of that penalty in such a way that we could be spared it – by having his own son, the only perfect sacrifice, take on that death sentence for us. Theologians calls this “substitutionary atonement,” Jesus taking our place. Such a reading of Christ’s passion, death and resurrection is supported by this passage. Jesus says, straight out, “Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.”
I cannot debate here the thorny question of whether humankind needed saving, or if God really ordained death as the punishment for sin. I will assert that a God who desires not to condemn but to save is a God worthy of our worship and trust. Condemnation lies at the heart of human sinfulness; our tendency to judge and condemn other people and ourselves is one of the most corrosive attributes human beings share. And so one of the most powerful verses in the New Testament for me is Paul’s declaration, “There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.” (Romans 8:1)
To be reminded that Jesus himself said God is not interested in condemning anyone is a crucial corrective to centuries of judgmental, condemnatory, narrowly legalistic, rule-based teaching by the church. Condemnation is a reflection of our sinful nature; gracious love is a reflection of God’s nature, and ours as creatures made and redeemed in the image of our extravagant God.
Is there any pattern or behavior in your life for which you continually condemn yourself? Are there other people, individuals or categories, whom you routinely find yourself condemning? Perhaps today we might bring those people and patterns into the light in prayer, asking God to show us how God’s love might lift from us the burden of condemnation – whether we’re the condemned or the condemner. What strategies might you devise to become more aware of the action of condemnation in your life? Where might you invite the winds of the Holy Spirit to blow you into greater freedom and acceptance, of yourself and others?
“For God so loved the world…” Might we ask to be so filled with that gracious love that we find ourselves loving the world in God’s name? When all is love, we need not speak of perishing and saving, only of Life everlasting.
This verse can evoke mixed emotions. It is a marvelous expression of God’s love for the world, a love so extravagant God willingly gave up his only son to save it. And it makes an extravagant promise – eternal life for those who believe in God’s only son. How we respond to this promise has everything to do with how much we feel the world is in need of saving, and how we feel about the “perishing” part.
For most of the Christian era, it has been generally accepted that people were lost in sin, for which the legitimate penalty was death without chance of pardon; and that God had designed a remedy to meet the demands of that penalty in such a way that we could be spared it – by having his own son, the only perfect sacrifice, take on that death sentence for us. Theologians calls this “substitutionary atonement,” Jesus taking our place. Such a reading of Christ’s passion, death and resurrection is supported by this passage. Jesus says, straight out, “Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.”
I cannot debate here the thorny question of whether humankind needed saving, or if God really ordained death as the punishment for sin. I will assert that a God who desires not to condemn but to save is a God worthy of our worship and trust. Condemnation lies at the heart of human sinfulness; our tendency to judge and condemn other people and ourselves is one of the most corrosive attributes human beings share. And so one of the most powerful verses in the New Testament for me is Paul’s declaration, “There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.” (Romans 8:1)
To be reminded that Jesus himself said God is not interested in condemning anyone is a crucial corrective to centuries of judgmental, condemnatory, narrowly legalistic, rule-based teaching by the church. Condemnation is a reflection of our sinful nature; gracious love is a reflection of God’s nature, and ours as creatures made and redeemed in the image of our extravagant God.
Is there any pattern or behavior in your life for which you continually condemn yourself? Are there other people, individuals or categories, whom you routinely find yourself condemning? Perhaps today we might bring those people and patterns into the light in prayer, asking God to show us how God’s love might lift from us the burden of condemnation – whether we’re the condemned or the condemner. What strategies might you devise to become more aware of the action of condemnation in your life? Where might you invite the winds of the Holy Spirit to blow you into greater freedom and acceptance, of yourself and others?
“For God so loved the world…” Might we ask to be so filled with that gracious love that we find ourselves loving the world in God’s name? When all is love, we need not speak of perishing and saving, only of Life everlasting.
1-25-23 - A Stumbling Block?
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's epistle reading is here.
If you were to invent a religion, you probably wouldn’t want to make it as unfathomable and sometimes unpalatable as Christianity. You wouldn’t insist that God is three persons and yet one. You wouldn’t assert that God became human for a time, yet remained fully God and fully man, full of divine power yet completely vulnerable. And you certainly wouldn’t orient your worship around a story about that God-man being executed by crucifixion, a death reserved for criminals and insurrectionists.
Yet, as the early church proclaimed the Life of God revealed in Jesus Christ, that story became most central. In all four gospels the narrative slows and zooms in for more detail when it comes to Jesus’ passion and death, which occupy more chapters than other incidents. The Gospel of John sees the cross as the place where the Son of God is glorified. Yet this emphasis on the Cross also caused trouble for the early Christ-followers – as it does for many today.
For Jews demand signs and Greeks desire wisdom, but we proclaim Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles, but to those who are the called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God.
The idea of a crucified Messiah was anathema to many of the era’s Jewish people. Many thought it blasphemous to claim that Jesus had a special relationship with God, or was God; others were appalled to think that God would send a Messiah to deliver his people from oppression, only to allow the oppressors to kill that man on a cross. The idea that God may have been about a much bigger deliverance than a military one did not compute.
And to many Greeks, so fond of logic and philosophy, the story was ridiculous. They could embrace the notion that the mind of God could be expressed in human form, in the way that a thought becomes a word, but then for that human to live a life of poverty and weakness? That was unlike any god they could conceive.
How does the crucifixion strike you? Can you see the freedom and love in this horrible tale around which we weave our faith? Many Christians turn away from this brutal story, preferring to emphasize Jesus’ wisdom as a teacher, or goodness as a moral exemplar, or power as a worker of miracles. But Jesus was also, perhaps primarily, savior, redeemer. Understanding the Cross as the place where he took upon himself the penalty of all humanity’s sin, and endured the agony not only of human cruelty, but of estrangement from God, helps us to more fully experience God's forgiveness and freedom.*
Can we see in the crucifixion of Jesus Christ “the power of God and the wisdom of God?” It takes special vision, the eyes of faith to make sense of this awful paradox. In fact, our minds cannot make sense of it; it’s a mystery that seeps into our hearts through contemplation and worship. Let’s open the cracks.
*You might read The Crucifixion: Understanding the Death of Jesus Christ, I have not yet read it, but it was named Christianity Today’s Book of the Year some years ago, and is authored by the Rev. Fleming Rutledge, whom I have known since my days at Grace Church in New York. It comes highly recommended for those who want to delve more deeply into this mystery.
If you were to invent a religion, you probably wouldn’t want to make it as unfathomable and sometimes unpalatable as Christianity. You wouldn’t insist that God is three persons and yet one. You wouldn’t assert that God became human for a time, yet remained fully God and fully man, full of divine power yet completely vulnerable. And you certainly wouldn’t orient your worship around a story about that God-man being executed by crucifixion, a death reserved for criminals and insurrectionists.
Yet, as the early church proclaimed the Life of God revealed in Jesus Christ, that story became most central. In all four gospels the narrative slows and zooms in for more detail when it comes to Jesus’ passion and death, which occupy more chapters than other incidents. The Gospel of John sees the cross as the place where the Son of God is glorified. Yet this emphasis on the Cross also caused trouble for the early Christ-followers – as it does for many today.
For Jews demand signs and Greeks desire wisdom, but we proclaim Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles, but to those who are the called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God.
The idea of a crucified Messiah was anathema to many of the era’s Jewish people. Many thought it blasphemous to claim that Jesus had a special relationship with God, or was God; others were appalled to think that God would send a Messiah to deliver his people from oppression, only to allow the oppressors to kill that man on a cross. The idea that God may have been about a much bigger deliverance than a military one did not compute.
And to many Greeks, so fond of logic and philosophy, the story was ridiculous. They could embrace the notion that the mind of God could be expressed in human form, in the way that a thought becomes a word, but then for that human to live a life of poverty and weakness? That was unlike any god they could conceive.
How does the crucifixion strike you? Can you see the freedom and love in this horrible tale around which we weave our faith? Many Christians turn away from this brutal story, preferring to emphasize Jesus’ wisdom as a teacher, or goodness as a moral exemplar, or power as a worker of miracles. But Jesus was also, perhaps primarily, savior, redeemer. Understanding the Cross as the place where he took upon himself the penalty of all humanity’s sin, and endured the agony not only of human cruelty, but of estrangement from God, helps us to more fully experience God's forgiveness and freedom.*
Can we see in the crucifixion of Jesus Christ “the power of God and the wisdom of God?” It takes special vision, the eyes of faith to make sense of this awful paradox. In fact, our minds cannot make sense of it; it’s a mystery that seeps into our hearts through contemplation and worship. Let’s open the cracks.
*You might read The Crucifixion: Understanding the Death of Jesus Christ, I have not yet read it, but it was named Christianity Today’s Book of the Year some years ago, and is authored by the Rev. Fleming Rutledge, whom I have known since my days at Grace Church in New York. It comes highly recommended for those who want to delve more deeply into this mystery.
10-7-22 - Well and Whole
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
“Get up and go on your way; your faith has made you well,” Jesus says to the Samaritan cured of leprosy.The phrase “made you well” also means “saved you.” The healing of our bodies and healing of our spirits is a package deal with God. We can choose to open ourselves to the deeper healing of our spirits, the eternal healing – or stop at wellness in the here and now.
All ten men were healed of leprosy; nine returned to their “here and now” lives. Something made this one come back to seek a connection with the Holy One, to throw himself at Jesus’ feet and say thank you. He receives a deeper healing, as Jesus proclaims him whole in body, mind and spirit.
Is it his faith or Jesus’ word or a combination that made him well? That is mystery. The faith we bring is certainly a large part of the equation, more than I wish it were. Wouldn't it be simpler if it were all up to God? Yet God seems to work through us, to have us be conduits of God’s power and love, as we invite it to flow through us in faith, for ourselves, for each other, for the world. We can’t do it without God; God won’t do it without us.
Faith is the doorway to transformation. As we allow God’s love to flow through us, we also are healed and drawn closer. Jesus is always inviting us into a deeper relationship with God - not just assent to beliefs, or participation in the life of a religious community, but participation in the life of God. That’s where we get the “holes in our soul” filled, and find meaning and purpose beyond our own lives.
In our story, these two men from different ways of seeing meet in the zone between their lands. This unnamed Samaritan seeks a relationship with Jesus, the Jew, traveling through. We too can meet Jesus, who is always traveling through our lives. Maybe he’s just outside our comfort zone.
Today, you might offer him your thanks and your worship, and ask him to be more real to you in prayer. It helps to be still, and set some time aside, and be open. Be attentive to any words or images or prompts that you sense. Sometimes it’s just stillness. Sometimes there’s more.
This leper-turned-disciple is a model for us. He is grateful, humble and faithful. And Jesus sends him on his way, whole. As God sees us through Christ, so are we.
“Get up and go on your way; your faith has made you well,” Jesus says to the Samaritan cured of leprosy.The phrase “made you well” also means “saved you.” The healing of our bodies and healing of our spirits is a package deal with God. We can choose to open ourselves to the deeper healing of our spirits, the eternal healing – or stop at wellness in the here and now.
All ten men were healed of leprosy; nine returned to their “here and now” lives. Something made this one come back to seek a connection with the Holy One, to throw himself at Jesus’ feet and say thank you. He receives a deeper healing, as Jesus proclaims him whole in body, mind and spirit.
Is it his faith or Jesus’ word or a combination that made him well? That is mystery. The faith we bring is certainly a large part of the equation, more than I wish it were. Wouldn't it be simpler if it were all up to God? Yet God seems to work through us, to have us be conduits of God’s power and love, as we invite it to flow through us in faith, for ourselves, for each other, for the world. We can’t do it without God; God won’t do it without us.
Faith is the doorway to transformation. As we allow God’s love to flow through us, we also are healed and drawn closer. Jesus is always inviting us into a deeper relationship with God - not just assent to beliefs, or participation in the life of a religious community, but participation in the life of God. That’s where we get the “holes in our soul” filled, and find meaning and purpose beyond our own lives.
In our story, these two men from different ways of seeing meet in the zone between their lands. This unnamed Samaritan seeks a relationship with Jesus, the Jew, traveling through. We too can meet Jesus, who is always traveling through our lives. Maybe he’s just outside our comfort zone.
Today, you might offer him your thanks and your worship, and ask him to be more real to you in prayer. It helps to be still, and set some time aside, and be open. Be attentive to any words or images or prompts that you sense. Sometimes it’s just stillness. Sometimes there’s more.
This leper-turned-disciple is a model for us. He is grateful, humble and faithful. And Jesus sends him on his way, whole. As God sees us through Christ, so are we.
8-27-20 - Life Savers
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
“For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.” - Jesus
The first image that the word “life saver” brings to my mind is that little round candy you suck on as it releases its flavor. It’s there until it’s gone. Of course, those candies are so named because they resemble life-savers, the large, inflated rings affixed to the sides of boats, meant to keep you buoyant should you find yourself in the water. Their saving utility is limited by the circumstances in which they are employed – they might save you from drowning in the short-term, but not from, say, storms, sharks or starvation. A more complete rescue is still needed.
On the face of it, Jesus’ remark that those who want to save their life will lose it, and vice versa, seems scrambled. When we set out to save our life, don’t we usually succeed? How could the very effort to do that guarantee defeat? It depends, I suppose, on what we call life.
If we consider “life” to be mere existence, Jesus’ words seem nonsensical. If we see life in a larger sense as the sum of our interactions in time and space; our bodies, minds and spirits in relationship and in giftedness – then Jesus’ counter-intuitive words begin to harmonize. Putting our energy into preserving our existence might result in our losing flavor and shape, like those little candies. Sure, we might be alive, but are we living? A fixation on preservation, on security, can deliver us from the waves, but not from the more serious spiritual adversities that challenge us. As Jesus went on to say, “For what will it profit them if they gain the whole world but forfeit their life? Or what will they give in return for their life?”
When Jesus asks us to “lose our life for his sake,” he invites us to let go of the things to which we cling, the “self-saving strategies” we think will preserve us or get us affirmation. Clinging to things that are passing away doesn’t make us very secure. If you're at risk of drowning, struggling only imperils you further. Calming down is key to survival in the deeps. When we invite Jesus to lead us into the Life he came to proclaim and demonstrate, we will find the Life he promises.
What do you grab onto when you feel threatened? Do you feel called to let go of something or someone you’ve relied upon, that holds you back from giving yourself more fully to God? Ask the Holy Spirit to show you what, and how.
Jesus kept circling back to this “dying to self” thing because he needed his followers free to be led by the Spirit. Our invitation is to stop trying to gain the whole world, and open ourselves to the One who made it. After all, we symbolically drown initiates at the beginning of their life in Christ. Ultimately, the life-saver we need is the One who walked on water and is always here to give us a hand up.
“For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.” - Jesus
The first image that the word “life saver” brings to my mind is that little round candy you suck on as it releases its flavor. It’s there until it’s gone. Of course, those candies are so named because they resemble life-savers, the large, inflated rings affixed to the sides of boats, meant to keep you buoyant should you find yourself in the water. Their saving utility is limited by the circumstances in which they are employed – they might save you from drowning in the short-term, but not from, say, storms, sharks or starvation. A more complete rescue is still needed.
On the face of it, Jesus’ remark that those who want to save their life will lose it, and vice versa, seems scrambled. When we set out to save our life, don’t we usually succeed? How could the very effort to do that guarantee defeat? It depends, I suppose, on what we call life.
If we consider “life” to be mere existence, Jesus’ words seem nonsensical. If we see life in a larger sense as the sum of our interactions in time and space; our bodies, minds and spirits in relationship and in giftedness – then Jesus’ counter-intuitive words begin to harmonize. Putting our energy into preserving our existence might result in our losing flavor and shape, like those little candies. Sure, we might be alive, but are we living? A fixation on preservation, on security, can deliver us from the waves, but not from the more serious spiritual adversities that challenge us. As Jesus went on to say, “For what will it profit them if they gain the whole world but forfeit their life? Or what will they give in return for their life?”
When Jesus asks us to “lose our life for his sake,” he invites us to let go of the things to which we cling, the “self-saving strategies” we think will preserve us or get us affirmation. Clinging to things that are passing away doesn’t make us very secure. If you're at risk of drowning, struggling only imperils you further. Calming down is key to survival in the deeps. When we invite Jesus to lead us into the Life he came to proclaim and demonstrate, we will find the Life he promises.
What do you grab onto when you feel threatened? Do you feel called to let go of something or someone you’ve relied upon, that holds you back from giving yourself more fully to God? Ask the Holy Spirit to show you what, and how.
Jesus kept circling back to this “dying to self” thing because he needed his followers free to be led by the Spirit. Our invitation is to stop trying to gain the whole world, and open ourselves to the One who made it. After all, we symbolically drown initiates at the beginning of their life in Christ. Ultimately, the life-saver we need is the One who walked on water and is always here to give us a hand up.
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