With Us To Emmaus

Two disciples are journeying from Jerusalem to the town of Emmaus. On the way, they discuss the terrible things that have happened in recent days. They have seen the one they thought was Israel's messiah handed over to the Romans; beaten, and crucified by the very powers they thought he would defeat. They have seen their hopes and dreams for God's redemptive work in the world nailed to a cross and buried in the ground.

One who appears to them as a stranger begins to journey with them and asks what they are discussing. They are surprised by this question for everyone knows what happened in Jerusalem. They speak of Jesus' death as one of those incidents where people are saying "Did you hear about..." and they don't have to finish the sentence because there is only one tragic event about which everyone is talking and of which they are trying to make sense. Nevertheless, the two disciples inform their fellow traveler about Jesus of Nazareth, a prophet mighty in word and deed. You can hear their pain and disappointment bleeding through the pages of Luke's gospel. "But we had hoped that he was the one to redeem Israel."

"We had hoped..."

Had. Past Tense. No longer. There is no hope now. Jesus is dead. For all his power, he was unable to prevent this tragedy of all tragedies. When his followers needed a miracle most, Jesus failed to come through.

This stranger who journeys with them has a different perspective. They thought the Messiah was one who would prevent these terrible things from happening. He points them to Scripture they had never considered to be speaking about the Messiah. He argues that rather than being a conquering warrior the Messiah was always meant to be a servant who would suffer with those who are hurting; one who would win his victory by weakness rather than strength.

As the three travelers near the village, the two disciples urge their new traveling companion to stay with them. He agrees and they sit down at table together. There, he blesses the bread, breaks it, and gives it to them. It is only then, in this act of hospitality, this table fellowship, and the breaking of the bread, that they realize it has been Jesus himself who has been journeying with them all along.

This is not the text from which I had planned to preach this Sunday. It is one more often associated with Easter than the Sunday before Christmas. Nevertheless, I find it to be an appropriate word for the final Sunday of Advent. For in this season we remember that Christ has come but that his kingdom is not yet. In Advent, we are reminded that Jesus was the long-awaited prophet, mighty in word and deed. But we are also reminded that we are still waiting. That our hope has not yet been fulfilled. That our world is far from being filled with the peace and justice of God's reign.

Most of the Christian life is walked on that road from Jerusalem to Emmaus. We've placed our trust in Jesus. We've pinned our hopes for God's redemptive purposes in the world on Jesus. We've confessed that he was the one who could deliver our world. But then a 20 year old man walks into a school and takes the lives of 20 children and 6 adults after killing his own mother. And our confession threatens to become past tense. We had hoped that he was the one but what can stand up against this kind of evil? This kind of brokenness? We thought Jesus was supposed to put a stop to precisely this kind of madness. If in all of God's power and might, he failed to act in this most critical of times, this time when his intervention was needed most, this time when 6 and 7 years old were crying out to him for help, then perhaps he does not deserve our hope, our trust, or our faith. Perhaps we are best served by giving up on the idea that this world can ever change.

There are no answers in these times. There are no explanations that can make things better. Explanations don't bring children back from the dead.

But I do believe that in the midst of our darkest tragedies, Jesus walks that road from Jerusalem to Emmaus with us. I believe that when it seems that God is dead and powerless, he is actually walking right beside us. In all likelihood, we will not be able to see that it is Jesus who walks with us. The pain and tragedy are real; blindingly real. But Jesus isn't put off by our inability to see him. He keeps walking with us. He lovingly listens as we tell him about the tragedy, about why we've lost all hope and faith in him. And he keeps walking with us. He tries to show us that God is one who suffers with those who suffer. And he keeps walking with us.

And because he keeps walking with us, I do not believe that our blindness to his presence will last forever. If, in the time of our deepest tragedy, the time when we question our hope for God's redemption of our world, we can manage to show hospitality to a stranger...  If we can continue to enjoy table fellowship together... If, despite all the reasons to give up hope, we can continue to break bread together then our eyes will eventually be opened and we will realize that Jesus is far from dead. He has, in fact, been traveling with us all along. And though we may not be able to say it now, we will eventually be able to say of this time "Did not our hearts burn within us while he talked with us on the road?" even when we didn't recognize the one who spoke with us.

Then we will be a people who proclaim an Easter hope in a Good Friday world. Not because everything is OK. Not because there is no tragedy. Not because we are blindly optimistic. But because the resurrected Jesus, the God who suffers with the suffering, walks with us. Because God's love for us is so great that he took on our flesh; the weak and vulnerable flesh of Charlotte, Daniel, Olivia, Josephine, Ana, Dylan, Madeleine, Catherine, Chase, James, Jesse, Grace, Emilie, Jack, Noah, Caroline, Jessica, Benjamin, Avielle, and Allison. Because death is not the end of God's redemptive purposes in the world. Because he is present with us in the breaking of the bread until his kingdom comes.

O come, Thou Day-Spring, come and cheer
Our spirits by Thine advent here
Disperse the gloomy clouds of night
And death's dark shadows put to flight.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.

Water, Blood, and Spirit

"This is he who came by water and blood—Jesus Christ; not by the water only but by the water and the blood. And the Spirit is the one who testifies, because the Spirit is the truth. For there are three that testify: the Spirit and the water and the blood; and these three agree."    1 John 5:6-8

I readily confess that I have no idea what in the world John is talking about in these verses.  What does it mean that Jesus came by water and blood as opposed to just water?  The list of things to which commentators suggest blood and water could be referring is long.  Is it baptism and communion? A roundabout way of referring to Jesus' humanity?  The blood and water that flowed from Jesus' side at his crucifixion?  And what would the significance of any of those referents be?  I have to honestly say I don't know ... but, of course, that won't keep me from venturing a guess. 

Whenever we encounter really obscure passages of Scripture like this one, I always think its a good practice to look at the verses nearby and find something that's not obscure - something with a relatively plain and obvious meaning - and work from there.  If we look just a few verses later, we find just such verses. 

"And this is the testimony, that God gave us eternal life, and this life is in his Son. Whoever has the Son has life; whoever does not have the Son of God does not have life. I write these things to you who believe in the name of the Son of God that you may know that you have eternal life."  v.11-13

There is a resounding and obvious theme in these verses:  that those to whom John is writing know Jesus and therefore have eternal life.  Whatever the point may be of the whole blood/water discussion, it must serve this point since this is clearly what John is driving at.  The one thing John wishes to communicate to his audience here is that there should be no doubt that they have eternal life.  We can ask then "What does Jesus being the one who came by blood and water as opposed to just water have to do with this truth?"

For help in answering that question, we can look to the first chapter of the Gospel of John.  There, John the baptist is described as one who came by water.  In v.26-27, he says "I baptize with water, but among you stands one you do not know, even he who comes after me, the strap of whose sandal I am not worthy to untie."  A few verses later, John identifies this one who stands among them as Jesus, calling him "the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world!"  Although the rest of the Gospel of John will fill out what it means to call Jesus "Lamb of God", there can be little doubt that the mention of a lamb taking away sin would evoke thoughts of that lamb's blood being shed for just about any first century reader, especially Jewish ones.  So in just a few short verses we have John the baptist presented as one who came by water contrasted with Jesus who came by water and blood.  Additionally, John says in the same passage "I saw the Spirit descend from heaven like a dove, and it remained on him. I myself did not know him, but he who sent me to baptize with water said to me, 'He on whom you see the Spirit descend and remain, this is he who baptizes with the Holy Spirit.' And I have seen and have borne witness that this is the Son of God."  So Jesus is described not only as having come by water and blood but also the one on whom the Spirit rests, affirming John's declaration about him. 

Of course, Jesus will breathe this same Holy Spirit on his followers after his death and resurrection.  This is, in fact, one of the major themes of the Gospel of John.  Jesus repeatedly promises the disciples that the Holy Spirit will come to them but that this comforter can only come after Jesus has gone away; that is, after blood and water have flowed from Jesus' side at his crucifixion (John 19:34). 

So what's all that got to do with John's main point that his audience has eternal life?  Immediately after the verses about blood, water, and the Spirit, John's very next words are these: "If we receive the testimony of men, the testimony of God is greater, for this is the testimony of God that he has borne concerning his Son.  Whoever believes in the Son of God has the testimony in himself."  Then follow the verses that say that this testimony God has given is that these followers of Jesus have eternal life.

In other words, we can easily imagine that there were some who were saying to these believers "You don't really have eternal life.  You are just following the teaching of a mere man whose got it wrong." And John is saying in response "You know better than that!  It is not the testimony of man that you have trusted but the very testimony of God that tells you that you have eternal life!  Jesus is not a mere man who came by water alone as John the baptist did.  Jesus is the who came to be baptized in water but who also gave his own life so that blood and water flowed from his side.  And in that giving of his life the same Spirit which descended upon him in the waters of baptism now also actively bears witness among you."  That is to say that the water, the blood, and the Spirit all three testify and agree to the same thing; that these believers have eternal life.  The testimony of the blood and water of Jesus Christ and the testimony of the Spirit are the testimony of the one and only God and not the testimony of man.  As Paul says in Romans 8:16, "The Spirit himself bear witness with our spirit that we are children of God." 

"You know you have eternal life because of what the Spirit has done among you" is the message of this passage.  This is typically termed the doctrine of Christian Assurance in the language of the Church; the belief that we can be assured of our salvation.  But we are not assured by the witness of others about us or by our works or by the quality of our life or the "success" of our church.  We are assured by the witness of God's own Spirit with our spirit.  Our re-birth may be messy for sure - not unlike our first birth, a mess of blood, water, and spirit- leading one to wonder if new life is really happening in the midst of all this chaos.  At times, we may even questions it ourselves as John's audience seems to have done.  But in the midst of all the chaos, God reminds us by the Son and the Spirit that we are surely children of this Father.

Circular Love

The opening verses of 1 John 5 are admittedly a bit circular.

"Everyone who believes that Jesus is the Christ has been born of God, and everyone who loves the Father loves whoever has been born of him. By this we know that we love the children of God, when we love God and obey his commandments."

So we know we love the Father if we love the children of God and we know we love the children if we love the Father?  We might think that last phrase about obeying his commandments would offer some objectivity as an exit off this merry-go-round.  However, it really only serves to further the circularity since the commandment in the Johanine literature is to love one another.  Logically speaking, it seems John might as well have said "we know we love the children of God when we love the children of God." 

I suppose the disadvantage of a circle, especially in matters of logic, is that it doesn't take us anywhere.  We keep going around the same path.  It doesn't reveal anything new to us.  We start with "love the children of God" and we end with "love the children of God". 

But I suppose that is also what makes it an appropriate shape for the Christian life.  Our goal isn't to get somewhere new.  We don't start with "love the children of God" only as a stepping stone to move onto something more profound.  When we are talking about God's love for us, our love for God, and love for God's children, why wouldn't we want this path to loop back on itself as many times as possible?  Indeed, any search for something new, some knowledge more profound than loving our brothers and sisters is only a distraction from the path that leads us back to God's love.  Truth is not acquired by escaping this circularity.  The circularity that is God's love enabling us to love our neighbor leading us back to God's love enabling us to love our neighbor is the most profound truth of all. 

As a culture, we are pretty much obsessed with anything new. It might not be an exaggeration to say we are not merely obsessed with new things but with newness itself; anything that will relieve the tedium of our lives and infuse them with new meaning.  Our watchword is progress; movement forward.  Anything else is failure.  Most of the Church seems to adopt a similar model.  We are constantly searching for that new thing that will make all the difference in our spiritual lives, our families, our churches.  What we try next must always be bigger and better than what we tried before or we might as well admit defeat.

All the while that ancient circle of love of God and neighbor quietly awaits us.

Obviously, there is something to be said for "straining toward what is ahead" and "pressing toward the goal".  But John reminds us that pressing forward in the Christian life is not a matter of blazing our own trail.  It is entering the circularity of God's love. 

2012 Annual Report

My annual report as delivered to Clinton First Church of the Nazarene April 29, 2012.


In Galatians 5, the Apostle Paul gives us a taste of the fruit of the Spirit; that well known list of love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self control.  We often think of these as a list of Christian virtues, characteristics which good Christian people should strive to exhibit.  To be sure, these are the kind of attitudes and practices we would expect to find among disciples of Jesus.  However, I think we sometimes become so enamored with the list itself that we rush over Paul's chosen metaphor for this list without giving it much thought.  That is to say, I think it is significant that Paul calls these qualities "fruit of the Spirit".

Consider how a fruit tree goes about bearing fruit.  An apple tree doesn't try really hard to bear fruit.  It doesn't just keep working at it until it makes a good apple.  No, making apples is simply what it does by its nature.  It is a natural by-product of its existence as a healthy apple tree.  What an apple tree does work very hard at is seeking the life giving elements which will sustain its existence.  It is continually putting down deeper roots to find water and nutrients.  Its branches actively seek out the sunshine needed to convert those nutrients into usable energy.  One might even say that the apples tree's whole existence is consumed and defined by the search for these life-giving elements.  Without these things, the tree will wither up and die.  With them, it will produce fruit as an effortless out pouring of what it is by its very nature.

I think Paul means to communicate the same thing about these qualities he lists when he calls them fruit of the Spirit.  As Christians, it is not our task to seek the fruit of the Spirit.  We are not called to try really hard to be loving, joyful, peaceful, etc.  In fact, if you've ever just worked really hard at being patient, you may know from your own experience that is one of the fastest ways to make sure you become more impatient.  No, our task as followers of Jesus is not to seek the fruit of the Spirit but to seek the Spirit.  We are to be a people who are continually becoming more deeply rooted in the Word so that we might drink from streams of living water; a people continually branching out in the ways of the Spirit.  One might even say that our whole existence as the people of God should be consumed and defined by this single task of seeking the Spirit.  For without the Spirit, this tree will shrivel up and die.  With the Spirit, it will produce the Spirit's fruit as an effortless out-pouring of what it is by its very nature.

What I'm saying here is nothing new.  In fact, several of you have heard me say this very thing on a number of occasions.  However, my confession to you this morning is that as much as I have recognized this on an individual basis, I have failed to fully grasp its significance for us as a church body.  As I look over the goals and emphases we have had in past years, I recognize that in many ways we have sought the fruit of the Spirit rather than the Spirit.  We have focused on things like outreach, discipleship, serving others, and greater inter-generational fellowship.  These are not bad things.  They are, in fact, very, very good things.  They are precisely the kind of fruit we would hope to exhibit as the Body of Christ.  However, I don't think it is our first task to seek those qualities as a church.  Our first task as the Church is to seek the Spirit.  Really, our only task as the Church is to seek the Spirit.  We are called to seek the Spirit and trust that Christ will build his Church.  Only then will we produce the kind of fruit we were created to produce as the people of God.

So how do we seek the Spirit?  There are a number of ways - what we typically refer to as the spiritual disciplines - things like prayer, meditation, service, study, worship, solitude, and confession.  These all have their place in the Christian life. They all are means of seeking the Spirit so that the Spirit's fruit might grow in our lives.  However, we find in Scripture two disciplines which were often combined when the people of God desperately needed the Spirit of God to move: prayer and fasting.  

Fasting is a way of humbling ourselves before God.  It is a way of confessing that we are completely dependent upon God, that the Spirit of God is our real source of sustenance.  When we fast, we are saying that we hunger and thirst for God's righteousness more than we hunger for our next meal.  

Perhaps you are wondering to yourself how fasting will enable us to be better at outreach, discipleship, service, and all the other things we are about as a church.  How is fasting going to help us grow as a church?  The answer is that it won't.  That's not its purpose.  Its purpose is to confess that we can't grow the Church.  Its purpose is to confess that we can't disciple, reach out, or serve without the Spirit.  We can not be the Church without the Spirit.  Fasting is a confession that if the Spirit of God doesn't sustain us then all of our best efforts will not produce an ounce of fruit.  It is a confession that if we fail to seek out the Spirit then we will be nothing but a tree that withers and dies.

So I wonder this morning how hungry we really are for God's Spirit to move among us?  We say we want God to do miraculous things among us but are we hungry enough to go hungry?  Here is what I would suggest.  We have four weeks until Pentecost; the Sunday on which we celebrate the gift of God's Holy Spirit to us.  Could we engage in a church-wide fast of one meal a week for those four weeks until Pentecost in anticipation of the Spirit movement among us?  I know that some will be limited in their ability to fast due to age or health conditions but I beg you not to use that as an excuse to avoid fasting entirely.  If you can't fast a whole meal, will you pray and seek out advice about what you can fast?  And can these four weeks until Pentecost just be the beginning, a way of jump-starting our spiritual lives together?  I don't believe fasting until Pentecost guarantees anything for that particular Sunday.  This is not a way of manipulating or controlling God.  This is simply a way of getting us started into a new practice together.  It is my hope and prayer that after Pentecost we will continue to engage in regular fasting throughout the year as the Spirit leads us.

As for prayer, there is already no shortage of opportunities for corporate prayer in our fellowship.  Prayer meeting will resume on Wednesday nights next Wednesday (May 9).  We are continuing to have our prayer service on the first Sunday night of each month.  There is also the morning prayer times at 9:30 on Wednesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays for those who don't have to work in the morning.  If we are a church that believes in prayer, a church that believes in the power of the Spirit then let us show it by taking part in the opportunities that are already before us.

One of the most consistent themes of Scripture is the propensity of God's people to rely on their own strength rather than God's.  I believe this continues to be one of the greatest temptations for the Church today as well.  May we be a people who signify our complete dependence upon God through prayer and fasting.  May we hear these words of Jesus from John 15 this morning.

"I am the true vine, and my Father is the vinedresser.  Every branch in me that does not bear fruit he takes away, and every branch that does bear fruit he prunes, that it may bear more fruit.  Already you are clean because of the word that I have spoken to you.  Abide in me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit by itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in me.  I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing.  If anyone does not abide in me he is thrown away like a branch and withers; and the branches are gathered, thrown into the fire, and burned.  If you abide in me, and my words abide in you, ask whatever you wish, and it will be done for you.  By this my Father is glorified, that you bear much fruit and so prove to be my disciples.  As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Abide in my love.  If you keep my commandments, you will abide in my love, just as I have kept my Father's commandments and abide in his love.  These things I have spoken to you, that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be full."

Children of God, Practitioners of Righteousness

Similar to last week's passage of Scripture, this week's pericope from 1 John 3 is filled with a number of dialectical statements; seemingly opposing truths that tug on each other and thereby hold each other in tension and balance.  If this tug of war is decided in favor of one side over the other then the truth is lost.  The truth is in the tension.

On the one hand, John boldly declares that we are already children of God

"See what kind of love the Father has given to us, that we should be called children of God, and so we are." v. 1

"Beloved, we are God's children now..." v.2

In these verses we see the theology of the Gospel of John shining through clearly.  There is an emphasis on the world's judgment having already occurred by way of Christ's incarnation.  John describes salvation as something that is available now, in this life.  The light has already come into the world, the darkness is already dispelled, and those who trust in Christ are already children of God.  None of these statements are incorrect but they are incomplete.  Without other statements of truth laid alongside of them, this sole emphasis on the already aspects of salvation easily leads to a Christian faith that is out of balance.

It is difficult to say with any certainty what heresy had arisen in the Johanine community that caused 1 John to be written.  But it is easy enough to imagine the kind of problems that could arise if we believed that our salvation was already complete in this world.  For one, it could lead us to believe that all of our actions, no matter how heinous, already have a rubber stamp of approval of God.  If we are already completely and entirely saved then that must mean that everything we do is God's work.  Or at the very least, if our actions are not good then they are simply of no consequence for God has already saved us and what we do or don't do isn't going to change that.

It seems this is at least part of that to which the writer of 1 John is responding in chapter 3.  He says

"...what we will be has not yet appeared, but we know that when he appears, we shall be like him, because we shall see him as he is." v.2

"No one who abides in him keeps on sinning.." v.6

"Whoever practices righteousness is righteous, as he is righteous." v. 7

 Some of these statements, verse 7 especially, appear to border on being tautologous; they are so obvious and self explanatory that they don't reveal any new information.  "Whoever practices righteousness is righteous?  Really, John?  Thanks for that gem!  That's sort of like telling us that water is wet."

But this is likely yet another place we take for granted the vast Christian tradition which stands between us and the audience of 1 John for this connection may very well not have been obvious to them. In the ancient world it was usually not assumed that there was any connection between religion/spirituality and morals.  Gentiles regularly worshiped at pagan temples without thinking there was any connection between that worship and how they lived the rest of their lives.  Religion and ethics were simply separate categories that had little if any relation to each other.  When this is combined with a belief that one has already experienced salvation in its entirety, that is one has already been made righteous, it is easy to see how these believers might have thought that being righteous had nothing to do with living righteously.  They viewed it as something accomplished entirely by God because of their trust in Jesus.

Of course, that last line sounds quite a bit like a lot of modern day Protestant professions of faith.  After all, we are saved by faith and not by works.  While I certainly don't want to lose this emphasis of Protestantism, I also think it unnecessarily bifurcates the language of the New Testament, especially terms like faith and righteousness.  As I never tire of pointing out on this blog, the Greek word pistis is the word often translated as faith in the New Testament but it can be just as easily (and often is) translated as faithfulness; in the language of the New Testament the two concepts are inseparable, to have faith is to be faithful.  Much the same thing is true of righteousness.  In many places, this word (dikaosune and its cognates) are often translated as justification which we usually take to mean something like forgiveness.  But in the Greek of the New Testament the word is related to the word for justice (dikaios) and in the Old Testament righteousness (tsedek) often refers to covenant faithfulness (God's, Israel's, or an individual's) by which the world is set in right relationship.  That is, to be made righteous is not merely to be forgiven but also to be transformed and empowered to live rightly and justly in the world.

John's words still speak to us today.  Yes, we are saved.  Yes, we are already children of God.  Yes, we have been made righteous.  And all of this has been done entirely by God's grace and not of ourselves.  But that is not a pass to go on sinning.  In fact, it is just the opposite.  It is a call to work for justice and right relationship in our world because what we will be has not yet been revealed, the kingdom is not yet.  There will be a day when "we will be like him because we will see him as he is" but until that day we are called to be a people who practice righteousness in this world.

Darkness, Light, and Entire Sanctification

1 John begins with an abrupt assertion of orthodoxy.  No introduction.  No greeting.  Just a blunt, nearly grammatically incoherent assertion of faithfulness to the Johanine teaching about Jesus.

"That which was from the beginning, which we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which we looked upon and have touched with our hands, concerning the word of life..."  

It is easy for us to forget just how much diversity there was in early Christianity, how many disagreements there were over really fundamental questions like "Who is Jesus?" and "Was he really human?".  But these questions lingered for centuries before the Church worked out what it believed.  It seems likely that the Johanine community was in the midst of debating such a question, though the enigmatic, proverb-like language of 1 John (just think how different 1 John sounds from Paul's very logical, sequential arguments) makes it difficult to discern just what that question might be.  Nevertheless, it is clear that the writer of 1 John (John himself? a disciple of John?) wishes to assert right away that his understanding of Jesus is the one the Johanine community should follow.  He asserts that his teaching is the one that has been since the beginning (thereby implying that the beliefs of his opponents are heretical innovations) and that it is this teaching which has been publicly verifiable (seen, heard, even handled) and passed on to those to whom he is now writing.

This message is that God is light and in him there is no darkness (v.5).  With this summary statement, the writer turns to a series of alternating and escalating statements which describe the relationship between light/truth and darkness/falsehood in the life of the believer.  The writer begins the alternating pattern with a darkness/falsehood statement.

"If we say we have fellowship with him while we walk in darkness, we lie and do not practice the truth." v. 6

"If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us."  v.8

"If we say we have not sinned, we make him (God) a liar and his word is not is us." v.10

Each statement escalates in severity.  If we claim fellowship with God but walk in darkness then we lie.  If say we have no sin then we lie to ourselves.  If we say we've never sinned then we make God a liar.

Interlaced between these statements of darkness/falsehood are statements of light/truth, each meant to counter-balance the darkness/falsehood statement that comes before it.  

"But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of his Son cleanses us from all sin." v.7

"If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness." v.9 

 These statements are dialectical.  They are meant to stand in tension with one another.  We can almost imagine each sentence tugging on the others.  As long as each statement continues to pull its weight then a balanced view of the Christian life will emerge.  But if we begin to lean on one statement or group of statements too hard then the tug-of-war will be thrown out of whack and we will end up with a distorted view of the Christian life.

On the one hand, v.6 and 7 make plain the expectation that a Christian is to walk in light rather than darkness.  That is to say that being a disciple of Jesus requires a certain kind of living, it requires "practicing the truth" and avoiding sin.  On the other hand, v.8 and 10 tug back the other direction so as to make it equally plain that avoiding sin is not the same thing as saying that we don't sin or have never sinned.  Finally, v. 9 gives another tug back in the direction of v.6 and 7 by reminding us that if we confess our sins God really does forgive those sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness.

This brings into clearer focus what it means to "walk in the light".  It is not sinless perfection.  If it were then confession would be failure.  Instead, the recognition and confession of our sinfulness is the very thing that allows God to forgive us and cleanse us and thereby make righteousness possible.  Confessing our sinfulness allows God to work in us in such a way that further sin can be prevented in our lives.

As a people who believe in a doctrine of Entire Sanctification, we Nazarenes would do well to meditate on these verses day and night, letting them soak into the deepest parts of our existence.  We are a people who are optimistic about the extent of transformation that is possible by God's grace in this life.  When 1 John says that we can be cleansed from all unrighteousness, we take that to mean that God frees us from all of sin's power in this life so that it really is possible for us not to sin, to really live righteously in this world.  However, as these verses remind us, that is not the same thing as saying that we will never sin again once we are entirely sanctified.  Too often in our tradition entire sanctification has been confused for a spiritual plateau, a place where spiritual growth levels off because one has already reached the highest possible state of holiness.  As a result, confession has become somewhat of a lost art in our denomination since there has at times been an implicit expectation that those who are entirely sanctified shouldn't have anything to confess.  This in turn has led to an abundance of legalism and self-righteousness.

This is not to say that we should give up on our hope of transformation, sanctification, and righteousness in this life.  1 John clearly calls believer to "walk in the light" and to be "cleansed from all unrighteousness". It is to say that such sanctification is not a state that we reach once and for all but a path we must continually walk and the means to staying on this path of light is not pretending that we have no sin.  For the concealing of anything will only require that we seek out even more darkness.  But if we remain on the well lit path then even our darkest deeds will be exposed and it is that exposure itself which will eliminate the darkness.  It is the exposure of our whole selves to the light of Christ that makes our cleansing from all unrighteousness possible.

Body Matters

The issue to which Paul is responding in 1 Corinthians 15 becomes clear in v.12.

"Now if Christ is proclaimed as raised from the dead, how can some of you say that there is no resurrection of the dead?"

The Corinthians are denying that there is such a thing as the resurrection of the dead.  To be a bit more specific, they probably are not denying the idea that someone who has died can live again (that being a much more modern objection to the resurrection).  After all, Paul surely preached that Christ had been raised and we can gather from Paul's argument here that Christ's resurrection is something on which he and the Corinthians agree.  Instead, the Corinthians are eschewing Paul's belief that everyone will eventually be bodily resurrected from the dead.  This is what Paul means he speaks of the resurrection: not merely that rising from the dead is possible but that at the end of the age all of humanity will be resurrected.

This denial of the resurrection was likely rooted in the Greek philosophical assumptions that seem to have been pervasive in Corinth.  Among those assumptions was the belief that the material world, including our bodies, is basically evil and that the goal of life is to allow our good spirit to escape our corrupted flesh.  As a result, the Corinthians thought that what it meant to be spiritual had very little to do with with their bodies.

In fact, the Corinthians rejection of the material world in their spirituality can even be seen in the series of issues which Paul addresses throughout the letter prior to chapter 15.  The Corinthians think nothing of a man sleeping with his step mother or of engaging in prostitution because they reason that what they do with their bodies has nothing to do with their spirituality.  They think of spirituality as an individual competition for spiritual knowledge rather than seeing themselves as a part of the Body of Christ and they exalt the spiritual gift of speaking in tongues above simple love and care for one another.  The Corinthians make a habit of denying the physical, whether it be their own bodies or those around them, in favor of what they see as being more "spiritual".  So it is easy to see why they would reject Paul's very Jewish notion of the resurrection of the dead which could just as easily be translated as "the raising of the corpses" (zombies anyone?).  The crude image of a bunch of decaying bodies given life is about the furthest thing from the Corinthians definition of what it means to be spiritual.

It is fitting then that Paul's words concerning the resurrection come as his closing argument in his letter to the Corinthians.  This is probably not an issue about which they have written to him but one about which he has heard reports and sees as foundational to everything else he has addressed.  So Paul reminds the Corinthians that Jesus' resurrection is not an isolated event within history.  Instead, it is the precursor of what will happen to all of us.  We will all be raised with a new kind of body.  Paul calls it a "spiritual body" in v.44, thus combining eternally the very two things, spirit and body, which the Corinthians wish to separate.

The truth is that much of the Church today still struggles to hold those two things, spirit and body, together in the way that Paul did.  Often our ideas and language about our physical world resembles those of the Corinthians much more than they do Paul's.  We speak of our soul going to heaven when we die rather than our hope that God will raise us up and give us an entirely new body.  We struggle to articulate a meaningful sexual ethic that goes beyond a simple list of scriptural imperatives because, like the Corinthians, we're not really sure what sex has to do with spirituality anyway.  We become to busy with our very "spiritual" ministries and gaining our own "spiritual" knowledge to be bothered with lowly, fleshly things like actually loving and serving others.  We fail to challenge greed, consumerism, and injustice because we figure its only a matter of time before God's set this world aflame.

The resurrection forever declares to us that our bodies and this physical world matter to God.  God created this stuff, inhabited this stuff, raised this stuff, and one day God will renew and transform this stuff.  It is not an afterthought in God's work of salvation.  It is this very stuff which is being saved.

The Way, The Truth, and The Life

"Jesus said to him, "I am the way and the truth and the life."  - John 14:6

Some of the most well known words in the Bible.  But what do they mean?  If you had to put these words of Jesus into your own words, what would you say?  I think for many people these words are synonymous with...

"Believe in Jesus and you'll go to heaven when you die."
or
"Christianity is the one true religion."
or
"If you don't live like Jesus then you are going to hell."

Before I say anything else, let me make a few things clear.  I believe Jesus with all my being when he says that he is the way, the truth, and the life.  I have committed my life to that belief.  I believe heaven is real.  I believe in the resurrection, the new creation, and the coming of the kingdom of God and longingly await them in hopeful expectation.  I believe that something awful, whether we call it hell, Sheol, hades, the lake of fire, weeping and gnashing of teeth, or the second death awaits those who oppose Jesus and his kingdom.  I believe it is only through Jesus that anyone can receive salvation.  I believe Jesus is the image of the invisible God and that it is only through him that we can truly come to know God.  I believe that the Church is the body of Christ in the world and that we are called to follow and imitate Jesus and that we are empowered by the Holy Spirit to do so.

But I also believe in nuance.  I believe, not in making things unnecessarily complicated, but in appreciating inherent complexity when it is there.  I believe in paying attention to what the writers of scripture actually said and paying attention to the context in which they said it.  I believe in holding our doctrines, opinions, worldviews, and practices up to the Word of God and seeing where they need to be reformed rather than making Jesus' words fit into our preconceived notions.  I believe that sometimes we think we know exactly what Jesus is saying so much so that we actually stop listening to his actual words and as a result we substitute our own thoughts where the Word of God should be.

So when Jesus says "I am the way and the truth and the life" I think it is important for us to hear what Jesus is actually saying as well as what he doesn't say.  Jesus doesn't say Christianity is the way, the truth, and the life. He doesn't say that he came to bestow a new set of doctrines on us that will get us into heaven or four spiritual laws that will keep us out of hell.  He does't say go to church and pay your tithe and live a good life and you'll be set for eternity.  He says "I am the way and the truth and the life.  No one come to the Father except through me"  This is a statement about knowing Jesus himself, about being in relationship with Jesus, about being personally led by Jesus and thereby coming to know the God he calls "Father".

If somehow we make this into a statement about one particular religion over others then we are actually hearing the very opposite of what Jesus intends to say to us.  Jesus isn't calling the disciples to a new religion but to a new relationship.  He doesn't say "I'll show you way" but "I am the way".  It's not "I'll teach you the truth."  It's "I am the truth."  He doesn't promise us the good life.  He promises that he is the resurrection and the life.  He is the good shepherd.  He is the bread that came down from heaven.  He is the light of the world.  He is the true vine.  Jesus is the one who reveals the nature and character of God, the heart of the Father to us.

It is this truth around which the rest of the conversation in John 14 revolves.  In v.8, Philip says to Jesus "Lord show us the Father and it is enough for us."  Jesus responds "Have I been with you so long and you still do not know me, Philip?  How can you say 'Show us the Father.'  Do you not believe that I am in the Father and the Father is in me?"  Jesus didn't come to establish a new religion or moral standard.  He came to show us the Father in his own life, in his own person, his very existence in human flesh revealing God to us.  The way is not a path but the guide.  The truth is not the teaching but the teacher.  The life is not a cure but the great physician himself.  The way, the truth, and the life is not a thing, a practice, or a belief that can be possessed or mastered but a person, namely the person of Jesus Christ.

The Gate Is the Shepherd

In John 10, Jesus proclaims "I am the good shepherd."  Clearly, this image would have had immediate significance to those who lived in the agrarian society of Jesus' day.  All kinds of apt comparisons can and have been made throughout Christian history between the shepherd/sheep relationship and that of Jesus and his followers.  However, it is important for us to recognize that when Jesus chooses to describe himself in this way, he is not pulling just any old metaphor out of the culture that surrounds him.  He is using imagery that has been central to Israel's thinking about itself, its leaders, and its relationship with Yahweh.

Of course, Psalm 23 stands out with the well known "The Lord is my shepherd"; a reminder that God is ultimately the shepherd of his people.  However, shepherding imagery was also used to describe the kings and priests of Israel.  These leaders were meant to be God's shepherds of his people as well.  In Jeremiah 23, God says through the prophet "Woe to the shepherds who destroy and scatter the sheep of my pasture!".  God promises to remove these shepherds and replace them with new ones who will care for his people.  Again in Ezekiel 34, God accuses the shepherds of Israel of feeding themselves instead of feeding the sheep and of allowing the sheep to be carried off by wild beasts.  Therefore, God promises to rescue his sheep from the very shepherds who are supposed to be rescuing them from these wild beasts.

Jesus' declaration "I am the good shepherd" is not only a metaphor drawn from agrarian society, nor is it only an image drawn from Israel's history.  It is also said in response to the action of the Pharisees in John 9.  Jesus statement in John 10 follows immediately on the heels of the story about a man who was born blind whom Jesus had healed.  Throughout chapter 9, the Pharisees are trying to make sense of how it is that Jesus, whom they regard as a sinner, could possibly have healed this man's blindness.  When the man who has been healed of his blindness refuses to change his story about Jesus, they cast him out of the synagogue.

It is easy for us to hear this story and regard the Pharisees and "the Jews" (John's name for those who oppose Jesus even though Jesus and all of his followers are Jewish as well) as legalistic.  After all, John doesn't spare any trouble to paint them in an entirely negative light.  However, we should recognize that the Pharisees are simply carrying out their role as Israel's shepherds.  They didn't set out to be legalistic.  (I've yet to hear anyone proclaim that as a personal life goal.)  But they have heard those passage from Jeremiah and Ezekiel all their lives.  As the religious leaders, the "pastors" of their day, they see themselves as the shepherds of Israel and they take that responsibility very seriously, as they should.  After all, it was the shepherds of Israel whom God faulted for Israel's previous collapse when they were taken into exile.  They are simply trying to avoid the mistakes of their ancestors by making sure that God's Law is lived out in Israel and that means casting false prophets (like Jesus) and their followers (like this blind man) out of their midst so that Israel may remain pure.

It is in response to these actions by the Pharisees that Jesus says "I am the good shepherd".  Actually, Jesus uses two metaphors to describe himself in this chapter.  He also says that he is the door or gate by which the sheep enter the fold.  On one hand, we can see this as a very confusing mixture of metaphors.  In one verse, Jesus is the gate and in another he is the shepherd.  On the other hand, this mixture of metaphors is a very accurate theological depiction of Jesus; he is both the way into the flock and the one who leads and cares for the flock, both images are appropriate.  In fact, Jesus may even be drawing on a common practice of the day in which the shepherd would lay down in the opening of the sheep pen, thereby actually serving as its gate.  Either way, we have an image here of what Jesus says later in the Gospel of John: "I am the way, the truth, and the life.  No one comes to the Father except through me."  The purpose of this statement is not to declare one religion better than every other.  Its purpose is to say that the way to God is not a religion or a morality or a belief system or a set of practices; the way to God is a person; namely Jesus Christ.  The gate is the shepherd.  The way is a person.  The essence of the Christian faith is nothing other than knowing, following, and being in relationship with the God made flesh in Jesus Christ and having our lives transformed by that relationship.  All of our doctrines and practices only serve the greater purpose of guiding us in that relationship; they are not a replacement for the relationship itself.

The Pharisees mistake isn't that they are legalistic while Jesus is lenient.  It is isn't that they take sin and holiness and the Law too seriously and that God doesn't really care much about those things any more.  The Pharisees mistake is their failure to recognize that the Lord who is their shepherd is standing right in front of them in the person of Jesus.  The religious leaders became so accustomed to functioning as shepherds and even gatekeepers that they forgot their own role as sheep.  They were so busy "caring" for the sheep that they forgot to listen for the voice of their own shepherd and they eventually became so deaf to that voice that even when he stood among them they no longer recognized him as shepherd.  Jesus proclamation of himself as the good shepherd is at least in part a challenge to the Pharisees to recognize that in their attempts to be good shepherds they have failed to be good sheep.

This is the danger for many life-long Christians as well.  As we grow and mature in Christ, we are rightfully expected to take on roles of leadership and discipling others.  We become shepherds to others in the faith.  As we spend more time and energy teaching others the beliefs and practices of the Christian faith, we become accustomed to our role as shepherd, so much so though that we forget we are also sheep.  In all the shepherding of others, there is a danger that we will fail to listen for the voice of our own shepherd and so eventually become deaf to the sound of his voice.

This is part of the beauty of Psalm 23.  David is the shepherd of God's people.  He is the king.  He has reached the pinnacle of earthly power and he knows that it is God who has put him there.  He knows he has been appointed by God as shepherd and yet he still says "the Lord is my shepherd".  There is a recognition that even as the ultimate earthly shepherd he is still a sheep and there is still a higher shepherd for whose voice he must listen.  As followers of Jesus, we are first and foremost a people who hear and follow the voice of our shepherd.

Impossible Faith

I can't read the words of John 20:19-23 without thinking of this blog post by my friend and fellow pastor, Jeremy Scott.  While I'll repeat some of the same ideas in this post, his post is worth reading in its entirety.

In this passage, we are given a picture of the disciples on the evening of the same day in which Mary Magdalene discovered Jesus' tomb to be empty.  Peter and the beloved disciple have seen the empty tomb as well.  Mary Magdalene has even seen and spoken with the risen Christ himself and reported this conversation to the other disciples.  In spite of that, John tells us that the doors were locked where the disciples were "for fear of the Jews".

This is a confused and scared group of people.  They don't yet know what to make of their friend and teacher's death, much less of these reports about the empty tomb and of Mary speaking with him.  An empty tomb could mean a lot of things, least likely of all Jesus being alive.  And could Mary's report really be trusted?  After all, women weren't considered to be reliable witnesses for legal purposes in the ancient world.  And besides, Jesus had delivered Mary from demon possession.  Maybe now that Jesus was dead that demon had come back to her and caused this hallucination.  Either way, there simply wasn't enough evidence to suggest that it was safe to be openly milling about in the streets or the markets.  The same people who had crucified Jesus might decide it was a good idea to get rid of his closest followers too, especially if rumors started to spread about Jesus being a live again.  So the disciples lock themselves in a room "for fear of the Jews".

Then Jesus appears in the midst of that fear-filled, locked up prison of a room and says to the disciples "Peace be with you."  On one level, this is exactly what any good Jew would expect.  Peace, shalom was and often still is a customary Jewish greeting.  It was so customary that Paul uses it along with "grace" in everyone of his letters.  Perhaps, we are also to imagine that it was so customary that the disciples may not have even noticed it, simply dismissed it as a "hello" or "hey guys".

"When he had said this, he showed them his hands and his feet."   I imagine at this point in their encounter with Jesus, the disciples would be like a parent reunited with a kidnapped child.  The first reaction is "Oh, thank God you are OK." or in this case "I can't believe it, Jesus.  You are really alive."  But that thought of thankfulness for safety would quickly to turn to the anger and revenge of "Now lets punish the monsters who did this to you."  As the disciples, observed the wounds of their Lord and savior, their thoughts would have naturally turned to the pain and rejection he had experienced.  As Jeremy so aptly says in his post:

Again, let’s pretend we’re the disciples. We’re fearful and angry that our savior has been killed. And he shows up, alive, breathing, right in front of us. He has risen from the dead, conquered death. This guy’s alive and now I definitely know that nothing can take him down! What’s my response?!?

…Let’s go find Pilate.
…Let’s go find the chief priests.
…Let’s go find the guys that held the hammer and spear.
We’ve got something to settle. Let’s go get ‘em.

But before that thought can go any further Jesus says again "Peace be with you." as if to say "Hang on, my greeting was more than a greeting.  It's your mission.  I'm not just wishing you peace and well-being.  I am bestowing the very shalom of God upon you and you are to live it out in everything you do."  As if to hammer this point of mission home, Jesus continues "As the Father has sent me, even so I am sending you."  Then Jesus breathes on them and says "Receive the Holy Spirit."  The God whose breath gave life to the first man and woman, the God whose breath raised up an army of an audience from a valley of dry bones, now fills these disciples with new life, with a new Spirit so that they might carry out the radical mission that Jesus has given them.  And just so we don't miss the point, Jesus says "If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven; if you withhold forgiveness from any, it is withheld."  In other words, this new Spirit that resides among the disciples empowers them to forgive the Pilates, the chief priests, those who seem to be unforgivable.  Jesus has not been resurrected to revenge.  He has been resurrected to bestow on these disciples a Spirit of peace and forgiveness so that they might carry out the mission of Jesus in the world.

In v. 24-31, we find that Thomas, one of the twelve disciples, was not present when Jesus appeared this first time.  The other disciples reported to Thomas "We have seen the Lord".  But Thomas responds to them "Unless I see in his hands the mark of the nails and place my finger into the mark of the nails, and place my hand into his side, I will never believe."  As a result, most have come to know this disciple as "doubting Thomas".

But what if that's an unfair moniker for Thomas?   We often hear Thomas's words as a willful refusal, a rejection of the other disciples' report without evidence.  We see Thomas as the rigid empiricist who won't accept anything without proof.  But what if we are hearing him incorrectly? Maybe these words from Thomas aren't so much refusal as they are confession; more admission of weakness than demand of evidence.  Perhaps they are like the man in Mark 9 who says "I believe.  Lord, help my unbelief!"  Perhaps Thomas isn't saying "I won't believe" but "I want to believe but this is simply too much for me to handle.  Not only am I supposed to believe that a crucified man was raised from the dead but also that he now wants us to forgive the people who did that to him?!.  That is humanely impossible!  I can't possibly believe that, much less be faithful to that belief unless I encounter the living Jesus myself!"

If that is indeed what Thomas is saying, then he could not have uttered a more correct understanding of himself and the whole human predicament.  We can not possibly believe, we can not possibly forgive the unforgivable, we can not possibly be faithful to the mission of radical peace that God has called us to in this world, if we have not had an encounter with the risen and living Jesus.  It is simply too difficult.  It is simply too much to ask of mere human beings to live out this kind of peace and forgiveness...unless....unless the resurrected Jesus shows up among us in the midst of our fear-filled and locked-door prisons where we have barricaded ourselves in to shield us from all the pain and dissapointment of life and he breathes new life into us and gives us his Spirit and allows us to see that the crucified Lord who still bears the mark of his torture and death is alive, is victorious, and will reign in us if we will only let him.  Eight days later, Jesus appears to Thomas and gives him the faith that he knew he couldn't possibly muster up for himself and Thomas answers with what is probably the greatest and most accurate confession of faith in the entire Gospel of John, "My Lord and My God!"

But it doesn't end there.  Jesus says to Thomas "Have you believed because you have seen me?  Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed."  So often we hear this as a reprimand of Thomas as if Jesus were saying that Thomas should have had enough faith to just believe without seeing Jesus.  But I don't think that is what Jesus is saying here.  I think Jesus is saying that encounters with him didn't stop with those who could see him in his physical body.  Jesus is saying that it is still possible for us to come to know him in all of his life and fullness, to receive that same Spirit which was breathed on the first disciples, even though we can not see Jesus as Thomas did.  We can still encounter the living Christ.  And just to make sure we don't miss the point, John, the writer of this gospel, inserts himself into the story in v.30-31 and says the same thing.  John interrupts the narrative flow of his literary masterpiece to make sure we can't miss this point.  He says all of this was written "so that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name."  Through the presence of the Spirit and the scripture that witnesses to Jesus, we can still have an encounter with the risen Lord and have this impossible faith and have life in his name.

He Still Calls Our Name

I'll be preaching from John 20:1-18 this week.  As I've read over this passage this week, I've been surprised by the number of possible connections with other stories in the Gospel of John.  Allusions to other parts of John's Gospel seem to run throughout this resurrection narrative.  But perhaps the most compelling of these comes from the very first chapter of John.

In John 1:35-42, we hear of Jesus' first disciples beginning to follow him.  These two disciples heard John the baptist's testimony that Jesus was the Lamb of God and they began to follow Jesus as a result.  However, upon beginning to follow him, Jesus asks them a question:  "What are you seeking?".  To which they reply "Rabbi, where are you staying?".

Often in the Gospel of John, conversations take place on two different levels simultaneously.  Usually, there is one very literal level for the characters within the story itself.  The other is often a more metaphorical/theological level in which the character's words carry a sort of double meaning which is instructive for John's audience concerning Jesus' identity and what it means to be his disciple.  The classic example of this is John 3 where Jesus tells Nicodemus he must be born from above but Nicodemus hears Jesus saying that he must be born again.  (The Greek word anothen can mean either "again" or "from above".)  On one level within the story Nicodemus is confused because he can not understand how a person can literally be born again from his mother's womb a second time.  On another level, Jesus word's are instructive for John's audience.  Those hearing John's gospel understand what Nicodemus does not; that Jesus is speaking about a completely new source of life within this life.

The conversation in John 1:35-42 works similarly.  On one level, the disciples are simply asking Jesus where he is staying.  Jesus tells them to come and see and they stay with him for the night.  On another level, the disciples are making a much more serious request.  They are asking to abide with Jesus.  Later in John 15, Jesus will use this same term, abide (meno in Greek), to describe the character of his true disciples.  In John 15:5, Jesus says "I am the vine; you are the branches.  Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing."  To abide with Jesus is to be his disciple.  Therefore, when the disciples answer Jesus' question "What are you seeking?" with "Rabbi, where are you staying?" they are doing more than just answering a question with what seems to be an odd and unrelated question.  In fact, they have given precisely the right answer to Jesus' question.  John is giving us a model of what it means to truly be a disciple of Jesus.  It doesn't mean seeking something from Jesus.  It means we seek to abide with him, to follow him wherever he leads.  These two disciples follow Jesus to where he abides and then they go and invite others to abide with him as well.

In John 20, Mary Magdalene, a woman about whom the gospels tell us very little, is making her way to the tomb of Jesus.  Presumably she goes to anoint the body of Jesus with spices.  We should recognize the act of love that this is on Mary's part.  John tells us that she went early while it was still dark.  She is eager to care for the body of this one that she called teacher and Lord.  She had loved Jesus, she had followed Jesus, she had abided with Jesus.  But now Jesus' body abides in a tomb and she will go there to abide with him, to care for him one last time.

However, when she arrives she finds that the stone covering the entrance of the tomb has been moved away.  She doesn't even look into the tomb to see what has happened.  She doesn't need to.  After all, there is only one logical explanation here.  Someone has stolen Jesus' body.  It wasn't enough that he died the most shameful death of crucifixion, those who hated him did not even want him to have the dignity of a proper burial.  Mary enlists the help of Peter and the beloved disciple.  They find the tomb empty as well.  However, they notice the linen cloths in which Jesus was buried have been left behind; an odd thing for grave robbers to leave behind.

The disciples head back to their homes but Mary is still at the tomb weeping.  As she is weeping, she looks into the tomb and sees two angels sitting where Jesus' body had been.  Even then, Mary still has no thoughts that something extraordinary has happened here.  When the angels ask her why she is weeping she repeats "They have taken away my Lord, and I do no know where they have laid him.  Then Jesus himself appears and asks Mary the same questions he asked those first disciples in John 1;  "Whom are you seeking?"  But even face to face with Jesus, Mary can not see what has happened here.  Her vision is too clouded by the harsh reality of crucifixion she witnessed just days earlier.  Her world is one filled with death and disappointment.  In one sense Mary would love nothing more than to answer Jesus' question as those first disciples did.  Mary desperately wants to abide with Jesus.  "Where is Jesus?" is the very question she has been asking through this entire passage.  Even now, supposing he is the gardener, she asks Jesus himself "Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him and I will take him away."  Mary is desperately seeking to abide with Jesus in the only way she knows how but she is exasperated and grief-stricken by her search because she seeks to abide with Jesus as though he were dead when, in fact, he is alive.  It is only when the Word of God made flesh speaks her name, "Mary", that she recognizes the voice of her shepherd and responds with the same response as those first disciples "Rabboni!".  And just as those first disciples recruited more disciples, Mary goes and announces Jesus' resurrection to his disciples.

Mary is a picture of so many of us, of so much of the Church.  I think if most of us were asked in church "Whom do you seek?" we would answer "Jesus."  And I don't think it would be a disingenuous or pretentious answer.  Like Mary, most of us really do love Jesus.  We know that Jesus changed us somehow and that we owe everything to him.  In fact, we long to abide with Jesus, so much so that we get up early on the first day of the week and come looking for him.

But I also think that, like Mary, despite all of our love for Jesus, we sometimes go about seeking him as if he were dead.  We come to church, we pay our tithe, we study our Bibles and say our prayers and we do all of these things because we genuinely love Jesus.  But we also do them not expecting anything to change, not expecting anyone, including ourselves to be transformed.  In fact, we'd probably rather things not change because at least things are comfortable the way they are now.  At least, this way we know what to expect.  And its not that we are bad or unloving people.  Its just that, like Mary, we've been hurt.  We've experience more intense pain than we could ever have imagined.  We've seen our hopes and dreams crucified, our beliefs about what God could do in this world nailed to a cross.  But we remain faithful.  Even in the midst of all that, we still love Jesus, we still want to abide with him.  We've just come to doubt that he can actually change anything.  And so all of our genuine acts of love for Jesus become nothing more than spices prepared for his buried and decaying body and our church begins to feel more like an empty tomb than a place of resurrection.

But, like Mary, even as we seek Jesus among the dead, the risen Lord continues to call to us.  Even when the empty tomb and grave cloths are not enough to cause us to look elsewhere, even when angels can not change our perception of what is possible with God, even when our pain and confusion so cloud our vision that we can not even see Jesus right in front of us, the risen Lord still speaks.  He still calls our name. And that is enough to allow us to abide with him in all his resurrected glory.

Come!

Click on this sentence and read Revelation 22:12-21.

How do you respond to that passage?  How do the repeated statements concerning Christ's coming make you feel?

"Behold I am coming quickly...."

"The Spirit and the Bride say, 'Come'.  And let the one who hears say, 'Come'.  And let the one who is thirsty come..."

He who testifies to these things says, 'Yes, I am coming quickly.' Amen.  Come, Lord Jesus."

Do your heart and voice echo those statements?  Do you think to yourself "Yes, Lord Jesus, come soon!  What is taking you so long?"  Or is it more like "Whoa!  Wait a minute!  What's the rush?  Jesus doesn't need to come quite yet."  Or maybe it is some mix of the two.

Perhaps it is not wise to make too much of one's emotional reaction to a passage of scripture.  Then again, perhaps John is trying to provoke our emotions to help us see where we really stand.  Either way, I found my own internal reaction to this passage to be interesting as I read it this morning.  There was undoubtedly a sense of hesitancy within me, a sense in which I did not share John's eager anticipation for Jesus to come.  This was rather strange for me since I often preach about this coming kingdom, spend my life encouraging others to conform their lives to this coming kingdom, and have said on more than one occasion how painfully aware I am that our world is in desperate need of God's kingdom to come.  Then why the hesitancy?  If this is really my hope, why would I feel this urge to push Jesus' coming away, to hold it off for a little longer if at all possible?

The answers to that question probably require more searching than will happen in this blog post or even between now and next Sunday's sermon.  Nevertheless, it at least reveals to me how much I still have my own schedule, my own agenda, my own goals that conflict with God's ultimate goal.  Its not that my goals and aims are anti-Jesus or his kingdom.  Of course, who ever thinks that their own goals and aims aren't God's?  Most of my goals are supposed to be goals that I have because I want to serve God and his kingdom.  I have certain tasks I have to get done this week in order to be a good pastor.  I want to see our church grow in certain ways.  I want to see my children grow up to be Christ-like.  And if God's kingdom comes now, well...then what?  Somehow all of that seems...irrelevant?

Still trying to figure out what it means to live in anticipation of this coming kingdom...

True Reality

One way to approach the book of Revelation is to see it primarily as a prediction of future events.  Often this approach leads to an attempt to "decode" the symbols of Revelation matching them up with certain current day events so that we can figure out who the beast is or when the end will come.  The focus of such an approach to this week's sermon text, Revelation 7:9-14, would be to ask when "the great tribulation" of v.14 will be so that we can be prepared for it.

I think it is a much more faithful approach to Scripture to consider how John's original audience might have heard and understood his words.  After all, Revelation is a letter specifically addressed to seven churches in Asia Minor.  Certainly, it is a book for us as well since it is Scripture and we continue to look for the Holy Spirit to speak to us through it.  However, I believe we will hear the Spirit's voice in this text most clearly if we consider how its first hearers might have understood its many symbols and images.

Consider what it might have been like to be part of one of these seven churches.  These were probably gatherings small enough to meet in someone's home.  They joined together in fellowship around a common meal, the study of Scripture, and serving others as Jesus did.  It is unlikely that they would have had very much contact or even knowledge of other Christian gatherings since most of them would have been of the lowest economic class and would not have had the resources to communicate or travel outside of their own city.  In other words, these Christians are the minority of all minorities.  They are small in number, small in resources, small in influence and status.

At first, being a part of these gatherings had not been too costly.  Perhaps some of your friends found it a little odd.  If you were one of the wealthier Christians who allowed these meetings to take place in your home then your peers certainly would have wondered why you chose to lower your own status by associating with those who were of a lower class than you.  But for the most part your gatherings were tolerated even if frowned upon by your neighbors or thought of as somewhat backwards.

But now things were changing.  One member of your group who had been a part of the local construction guild (the 1st century equivalent of a union) his entire career could no longer find work.  This was because, as in any other guild of the day, the guild members had to participate in a sacrifice to the guild's patron god or goddess, something the members of your gathering had sworn they would not do because of their allegiance to Christ.  Others in your gathering had noticed that long time friends were beginning to become distant out of fear that their family's reputation or well being might be compromised if they were associated with these Christians.  There were even rumors that the local government was considering some type of official action against your group because of the complaints they were hearing about your lack of support for the empire and its gods.  It seemed that the hostility toward your gathering with your fellow Christians was steadily rising and that soon it could become very costly to continue meeting with this little group.

John's vision contrasts the earthly reality these Christians see on a daily basis with what he wants them to know is true reality.  Where they see a small, powerless group of ten or fifteen people, John says that he saw "a great multitude whom no one could count from every nation and all tribes and peoples and tongues, standing before the throne and before the Lamb."  Where they see only great tribulation ahead, John sees those who serve as priests before God's throne day and night because they have washed their robes in the blood of the lamb.  Where they see a world that offers them only rejection, John sees a world where they will neither hunger or thirst, where God himself will shepherd them and wipe away every tear from their eye.  But most importantly, where these first Christians see a world where it seems that Rome is in complete control and all are at the mercy of this mighty empire, John sees that it is God who sits on the throne of the universe and it is God's kingdom which will ultimately prevail.

In what ways do we need our vision renewed so that we might see our present reality as God sees it?

Looking Ahead

I won't be around to preach next Sunday.  We leave tomorrow to go see my dad in South Carolina.  Even though I'll be on vacation, the mission of our church will still be very much on my mind.  The Sunday after my return is our annual meeting and elections here at our church; the Sunday when we elect our leadership for the coming year.  It is also a time to evaluate what we've been doing for the past year and where God is leading us in the year to come.  I invite anyone who reads this blog to pray for our church and for me personally as I earnestly seek to hear where God is leading us as one local congregation within the body of Christ.

While my annual report is not quite like a sermon, I did take some time today to study what would have been my sermon text on April 18, Revelation 5:11-14, since it will give some shape to my report.  In these verses, a great anthem is sung in heaven:

"Worthy is the Lamb that was slain to receive power and riches and wisdom and might and honor and glory and blessing."  

Just a few verses earlier in Revelation 5, John had been weeping because no one had been found worthy to open the book held by the one who sits on the throne.  But one of the elders who surrounded God's throne tells John to stop weeping because "the Lion that is from the tribe of Judah, the Root of David, has overcome so as to open the book and its seven seals."  At this point, anyone familiar with C.S. Lewis' Chronicles of Narnia might expect his character Aslan to make an appearance in Revelation.  But instead of a mighty conquering Lion, John sees a "Lamb standing, as if slain" and it this Lamb who is worthy to open the book and its seven seals and to receive power, riches, wisdom, might, honor, glory, and blessing, as the heavenly anthem says.  The Lion is the slain Lamb.

This will be a central image in the message John is communicating to the seven churches to whom he writes; Christ ironically overcame by being overcome.  John invites these churches to see that their calling is the same.  They conquer by being defeated.  They win the crown of life by being faithful in the face of death.

What does it mean to practice this as the Church today?  We seem to be so far removed from those Christians in the first century who risked so much to be faithful to Christ.  What would it mean for us to orient our entire lives around the Lamb who has been slain?

From Jerusalem to Emmaus

Two disciples of Jesus journey from Jerusalem to Emmaus, their deepest hopes and dreams having been crushed.

We use that word hope a lot.  We hope someone gets better soon.  We hope our favorite sports team wins.  We hope the store has what we are looking for or that maybe it will even be on sale.  And so, we easily forget what it is to really hope for something, to believe in something so much that we commit ourselves to it.

That is what these disciples had done.  They had pinned all their hopes on Jesus.  These were hopes that had been passed down over generations, promises from long ago.  These were the hopes of not only individuals but of an entire people.  The kind of hope that these disciples had in Jesus stemmed from events that were hundreds of years old.  They were rooted in what God had done for Israel so long ago and so many times over.  God delivered the people from their slavery in Egypt through Moses by conquering Pharaoh and his army at the Red Sea.  God had delivered the people into the promise land with Joshua at the head of Israel's armies.  God had raised up judges and kings to lead them in their time of need.  And God had delivered the people when they found themselves in exile in a foreign land.  God had always raised up a leader to deliver Israel in its time of need.

Now many in Israel believed that they were in need of deliverance once again, this time from Rome and its powerful army and its pagan religions.  And here came Jesus, doing these incredible things, healing, casting out demons, raising the dead, talking about God in a way that no one else could.  As these disciples on the way to Emmaus say "He was a prophet mighty in word and deed".  So they put their faith in him.  They pinned all their hopes and the hopes of their people on him.  They committed their lives to him, followed his teaching, believing that he was the one who could get the job done.  This is what they mean when they "But we were hoping that he was the one who was going to redeem Israel."

"We were hoping..." implying that they no longer hold that hope.   Indeed, how could they?  It would be foolish to hold such a hope.  Perhaps we are even to imagine that these disciples are making this journey away from Jerusalem because they are fearful.  Jesus, their leader, had been crucified and buried in a tomb.  He had been defeated just like all the other pretenders, all the others who had claimed to be Israel's deliverer but had just ended up executed by Rome's enormous power.  Maybe the Roman officials would come after Jesus' followers next.

No, there was no hoping now.  There was only pain, confusion, and fear.   I can almost imagine the conversation that these two disciples must have been having on their way out of Jerusalem.  "How could we have been so stupid?  We were so sure that he was the one.  But clearly we were deceived."  That is, after all, what the cross meant.  At this point, there was no thought on the part of Jesus' disciples that his suffering was somehow redemptive or that it could bring salvation.  No, the cross meant unquestionably, undeniably that Jesus had NOT brought salvation, that he had failed in his mission as messiah.  Jesus was dead and Israel remained in need of deliverance, in need of restoration.  In addition to all this, the disciples had now heard reports that Jesus' body was missing; that it was no longer in the tomb where it had been laid.  And so on this journey to the town of Emmaus they must have wondered why someone would bother to steal Jesus' dead body from the tomb.  This is a journey filled with questions and grief.  It is a journey in the absence of hope.

Then Jesus shows up.  At first, these two disciples mysteriously fail to recognize him.  In fact, when Jesus asks what they are discussing they take Jesus to be somewhat ignorant, asking him "Are you the only one visiting Jerusalem and unaware of the things which have have happened here in these days?"  These disciples go on tell the one in whom they had placed all their hope about how now all their hope is lost.  Jesus is not put off by their blindness or misunderstanding.  Instead, he graciously continues to journey with them and he explains to them from the scriptures how this had been a part of God's plan all along.  Jesus explains to them that his death was not his defeat but the beginning of his victory.

The disciples still do not seem to recognize Jesus but they invite this one they see as a stranger to stay with them for the night rather than traveling on by himself.  Jesus agrees and shares a meal with them.  It is only when Jesus breaks the bread to share at the meal, much as he had done at his last meal with the disciples and as he had done when he fed the crowds from only a few loaves and few fish, that they suddenly recognize who it is that has been traveling with them all along.  Upon this revelation on the part of the disciples, Jesus vanishes from their sight but the disciples say "Were not our hearts burning within us while He was speaking to us on the road, while He was explaining the scriptures to us?" and they immediately get up and head back toward Jerusalem to share the good news that their hope is alive once again.

Perhaps you have been down that road to Emmaus yourself; the one filled with grief, pain, and confusion; that journey where it seems like all the hopes you ever had have been nailed to a cross and buried in a cold, stone tomb.  Certainly, it is a common journey in this world of ours where we are surrounded by death, violence, greed, poverty, brokenness, and pain.  To one degree or another, we must all walk that road.  And at some point we may even look around in all of that pain and confusion and ask ourselves "Where is God in all of this?"

But the truth is God has been walking right by our side all along, we only failed to see that it was him.  God is there in the bread and juice that we share together at the Lord's table.  God is there in the fellowship that we share with one another.  God is there in the simple acts of hospitality extended to a stranger.  But most importantly, God is there when we are journeying down a hopeless road with nothing but fear and and questions, God is there.

The hope that we have as Christians is not a naive one.  It is not a rose-colored glasses approach to our world that pretends there is no pain or suffering or that's it not important.  Our hope is one that says that pain and suffering are not the end; that death does not have the last word because there is a God who is more powerful than death.  We believe that our God and Father raised Jesus our Lord from the dead and that he will do the same for us.  We believe that our ultimate enemy, death, has been defeated and if death itself can't stand in God's way then its hard to imagine what can.

That is why we gather for worship Sunday after Sunday.  That is why we serve others and reach out to those we don't know with the love of God.  That is why we have committed ourselves to Jesus.  We have pinned all of our hopes on him because he has set our hearts on fire with his resurrection life.

The Beginning in the End

Luke says in the very first verse of the Acts of the Apostles that in his former account (presumably the Gospel of Luke) he wrote about all that Jesus began to do and to teach.  If you had never read the book of Acts before, this opening verse might lead you to believe that you were going to hear quite a bit more about all that Jesus continued to do and to teach in this second volume of Luke's work.  However, it is only nine verses later that Jesus ascends into heaven leaving the disciples behind on earth.  Jesus is often spoken of but rarely seen in the rest of this rather lengthy New Testament book.  One might easily wonder then how it is that Luke's former book was only about the beginning of Jesus' ministry if by the opening of this second book he has already exited the stage.  Does that not mean that Jesus' ministry is done?

The fact that Jesus' ministry is not yet finished even though he has ascended into heaven seems to be one of the primary theological points of the ascension and the book of Acts as a whole.  In other words, although the person of Jesus himself is mostly absent from the story of Acts, what Luke does go on to narrate is the actions and teachings of the early church empowered by the same Spirit which empowered Jesus.  That is to say that the Acts of the Apostles is indeed a continuation of the story about what Jesus did and taught; it is the narration of Jesus' work in the world through his Spirit-filled Church.  The Spirit empowered Church is the presence of Jesus in the world after his ascension into heaven.  

What a tremendoues and sobering responsibility we have been given.  After beginning his kingdom ministry here on earth, Jesus has left it up to us to carry it on.  That is why we must not be a Church that is constantly gazing heavenward..  Its not hard to imagine how abandoned and vulnerable the disciples must have felt as they watched their Lord and savior disappear from their presence.  But immediately, two heavenly messengers arrive to redirect the disciples gaze and to assure them that Jesus will return (Acts 1:11).  In the meantime, the Church's mission is not simply to gaze into heaven wondering when we will be joined with our savior once again.  The Church's mission is to wait on the Holy Spirit so that we might be empowered to continue the ministry of Jesus in our world.  

Destroying the Slashes

"Surely no one can refuse the water for these to be baptized who have received the Holy Spirit just as we did, can he?" It might be difficult for us to imagine how much of a change in Peter's worldview this single statement represents. A devout Jew, like Peter, was committed to maintaining certain standards of purity and that meant not eating certain foods and not eating with unclean Gentiles. Peter has spent his whole life believing that one of the most fundamental distinctions in life was the line drawn between Jew and Gentile. Peter's words here represent the culmination of a story that erases that distinction.

This particular story in the books of Acts begins with the start of chapter 10. "Cornelius, a centurion... a devout man and who feared God with all this household and gave many alms to the Jewish people and prayed to God continually" sees a vision in which he is instructed to dispatch some men to find Peter.

As Cornelius' servants are on their way to find Peter, Luke tells us that Peter is experiencing a vision himself. In this vision, a large sheet is lowered from heaven and in it are all kinds of animals that were considered unclean in Jewish law. A voice commands Peter to "Get up, Peter, kill and eat!" But like a good Jew, Peter refuses, noting that he has never eaten anything impure or unclean. The voice responds "What God has cleansed, no longer consider unholy." This happens two more times until the sheet returns to heaven. While Peter is still reflecting on what this vision might mean, Cornelius' servants arrive and explain why they have come. They stay with Peter for the night and all set out to Cornelius' the next day.

Somewhere along the way, Peter must have realized that the unclean animals in his vision were a metaphor for the Gentiles that Peter had regarded as unclean but God had now worked to cleanse. Upon arriving at Cornelius' house, Peter says "You yourselves know how unlawful it is for a man who is a Jew to associate with a foreigner or to visit him; and yet God has shown me that I should not call any man unholy or unclean." This conversation is quickly followed by another speech from Peter in which he shares the gospel story of Jesus.

Astonishingly, Peter is still speaking when the Holy Spirit descends upon Cornelius and all of his family and friends who have gathered to listen to Peter. This is astonishing because these uncircumcised, unclean Gentiles have not done anything to make themselves clean. They have not gone through any of the necessary rituals to be included as a part of God's covenant people. In fact, they have not even responded to Peter's message about Jesus with any kind of faith pronouncement. God acts decisively before any human characters in the story even have a chance to do anything, pouring out his Holy Spirit on these Gentiles just as he had on Peter and the other apostles in Acts 2. Peter immediately recognizes this as an act of God and calls for Cornelius and his household to be baptized as a recognition of what God has already done.

What are some of the fundamental distinctions that we make in the way we see the world? Although the Jew/Gentile distinction of first century Judaism may seem odd to us, we still do a pretty good job of splitting our world into comfortable polar opposites; conservative/liberal, gay/straight, successful/irresponsible, even Christian/non-Christian and if we think that you are on the wrong side of the "slash" then we are likely to do our best not to associate with you. But this passage in Acts shows us that God is in the business of destroying the slashes that divide our world and he calls upon his Church to be a slash destroying people. And we don't destroy those slashes that divide us by making people jump through certain hoops to become more like us and to make them look more like what a Christian is "supposed" to look like. Instead, like Peter, we must recognize where God is already at work and allow our entire view of the world and God's work in it to be adjusted accordingly.