Wednesday, August 7, 2013
Monday, December 3, 2012
Monday, April 9, 2012
The Resurrection: A Summary
The Christian year begins with a birth of a baby. The angels sing, the kings of the east come, and the shepherds shout for joy, but we are left with a baby that is tired and hungry and fully God and fully man. The fabric of the universe is torn. The calculations of the wise are altered. God has come.
Four months later in that same calendar we come to the apex of the year. That baby is now a man who is crucified, died, and buried. Dead in the ground, death had won. For three days Satan had his victory. God undone. Hell victorious. On that Sunday morning Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, and Salome head to the tomb in pain and grief. The teacher is dead. The Messiah they thought they had known was no more. Their leader dead and so was their hopes and dreams for the future. He had brought so much to their lives and it was now over.
They reach the tomb and a man in white tells them, "He is risen! He is not here." They do not know what to do or what to think. What does it mean that he is risen? The implications were unclear. Jesus is alive, that is enough for now. So they ran back and told the remaining disciples. Peter and John go to see for themselves. It is true Jesus is no longer dead.
Jesus who is God was dead and now he lives.
Over the next few months Jesus appears to many of his followers. He says that the Kingdom has come. But Rome still rules. He says, see with new eyes, but their sight is still darken. Then Jesus ascends into heaven. He is seated at the right now of His Father. The disciples are bewildered. What now? What does this all mean? The Messiah lives! The Kingdom has come! But it is not what we expected. And so they follow his command and head to Jerusalem to wait.
Jesus is the Messiah. This they know. He was dead and now he lives. God has changed the world. Still, they do not fully see it. The world is different, but how, remains to be seen. They must wait in Jerusalem, for God isn't finished yet.
Four months later in that same calendar we come to the apex of the year. That baby is now a man who is crucified, died, and buried. Dead in the ground, death had won. For three days Satan had his victory. God undone. Hell victorious. On that Sunday morning Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, and Salome head to the tomb in pain and grief. The teacher is dead. The Messiah they thought they had known was no more. Their leader dead and so was their hopes and dreams for the future. He had brought so much to their lives and it was now over.
They reach the tomb and a man in white tells them, "He is risen! He is not here." They do not know what to do or what to think. What does it mean that he is risen? The implications were unclear. Jesus is alive, that is enough for now. So they ran back and told the remaining disciples. Peter and John go to see for themselves. It is true Jesus is no longer dead.
Jesus who is God was dead and now he lives.
Over the next few months Jesus appears to many of his followers. He says that the Kingdom has come. But Rome still rules. He says, see with new eyes, but their sight is still darken. Then Jesus ascends into heaven. He is seated at the right now of His Father. The disciples are bewildered. What now? What does this all mean? The Messiah lives! The Kingdom has come! But it is not what we expected. And so they follow his command and head to Jerusalem to wait.
Jesus is the Messiah. This they know. He was dead and now he lives. God has changed the world. Still, they do not fully see it. The world is different, but how, remains to be seen. They must wait in Jerusalem, for God isn't finished yet.
Saturday, April 7, 2012
The Darkness
Jesus is dead today. His body lays in the tomb. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. He made the blind see, the cripple walk. What was broken was made whole. We went to Jerusalem expecting a coronation. Instead, all we have is this darkness. I gave my life to this prophet. For three years I wandered and learned. I was mocked by my family. My brother talked to me about responsibility, about loving your mother and father. I told him, listen to the teacher, he is going to make the world right. He fed thousands out of a boy's lunch. I couldn't believe, I still can't believe. We don't know what to do. Many have already left, slinking away to the darkness. He is dead. And I am wrong. The messiah is not here.
Words on Good Friday
The murdered Physician, by his very death, has compounded a medicine out of his own blood to heal the sick.
St Augustine
St Augustine
Tuesday, April 3, 2012
Doing the Right Thing
In the book of Jeremiah, the prophet declares to people, "Do this and good things will happen" or, more often, "Don't do this, and not bad things will happen." Time and time again the people won't listen, the king will throw him in a cistern, and the officials will threaten to kill him, and then bad things will happen to the Kingdom of Judah. As a reader the cause of pain seems so obvious, "Just do what the Jeremiah says!" and all shall be well. Of course the people do not do all that Jeremiah exhorts. The king will listen, but he cannot follow through. Too often the choice is between more pain or less pain, and less pain means throwing the gates wide open for their enemies. That type of trust in Jeremiah's words is hard, even if you believe him to be a prophet.
This is a reminder to me that doing the right thing is often not based on knowledge, but moral and social courage. Generally we know what is right, and even in our post-post modern world where many truths are up for grabs, day to day rights and wrongs are clear as day. Kindness does not require epistemological certainty. Doing the right thing is difficult because we know what is right, yet we are not willing to suffer the consequences. If God asked me why I did (or did not do) such and such thing, rarely could I say, "I didn't know what to do." Rather, I'd say, "I am weak and broken." I still remember with shame my experience in middle school. I was a kid who socially skated by, generally liked by all sorts of groups. Not popular, but not disliked. Perhaps my greatest social talent was to avoid ridicule. That led to a failure of moral courage. When kids would be laughed at and made fun of, I would say nothing. My parents raised me right and I knew it was wrong to make fun of people. I knew it was wrong because I didn't want to get made fun of myself. I knew what was right, but I didn't act. I failed.
This is a reminder to me that doing the right thing is often not based on knowledge, but moral and social courage. Generally we know what is right, and even in our post-post modern world where many truths are up for grabs, day to day rights and wrongs are clear as day. Kindness does not require epistemological certainty. Doing the right thing is difficult because we know what is right, yet we are not willing to suffer the consequences. If God asked me why I did (or did not do) such and such thing, rarely could I say, "I didn't know what to do." Rather, I'd say, "I am weak and broken." I still remember with shame my experience in middle school. I was a kid who socially skated by, generally liked by all sorts of groups. Not popular, but not disliked. Perhaps my greatest social talent was to avoid ridicule. That led to a failure of moral courage. When kids would be laughed at and made fun of, I would say nothing. My parents raised me right and I knew it was wrong to make fun of people. I knew it was wrong because I didn't want to get made fun of myself. I knew what was right, but I didn't act. I failed.
Friday, March 30, 2012
History as Mourning
In the midst of a busy life I'm slowly rereading Tolkien's Lord of the Rings. Once again I'm slowly marching my way to Mount Doom with Frodo and Sam, hoping in darkness that a way may be found. I nearly know the books by heart, but it is always a joy to come back to them.
There are many reasons for LOTR success, but one of them is the incredible richness of the world. Tolkien has thought out how the world works, where it is located, what matters, and the whole damn history of the place. When a character references some random event, that event is fully formed in Tolkien's mind. He knows how it all fits together. Out of this richness comes this them of mourning. The world as known by the Elves is irreversibly changing. The way it was, it no longer can be. If the one ring is destroyed, then the power of the elvish rings will diminish, and the elves will fade away, only found in the deep woods. There is sadness attached to this fate. Yes, the ring must be destroyed, but much will be lost. The elves, as immortal creatures uniquely feel this loss, because isn't ancient history, but still a living memory.
It is history as mourning. Not so much because the past was better (in fact it was often worst) but because what was can never be again. Tolkien was speaking at the edge of history. His childhood world was no more and could not be recaptured or re-imagined. He grew up without cars or airplanes or modern communication. These technologies have brought many benefits to humanity, but as Tolkien recognizes they wrought much change. In the modern world communities and communal practices fade away. Relationships that defined a person, become inconveniences that are only dealt with at holidays. In the modern world languages fade into silence, cultures are overcome, and distinctions are blended.
The past wasn't perfect. It was full of pain and hurt, much like the present. But for good and for ill, what it represented is no more.
There are many reasons for LOTR success, but one of them is the incredible richness of the world. Tolkien has thought out how the world works, where it is located, what matters, and the whole damn history of the place. When a character references some random event, that event is fully formed in Tolkien's mind. He knows how it all fits together. Out of this richness comes this them of mourning. The world as known by the Elves is irreversibly changing. The way it was, it no longer can be. If the one ring is destroyed, then the power of the elvish rings will diminish, and the elves will fade away, only found in the deep woods. There is sadness attached to this fate. Yes, the ring must be destroyed, but much will be lost. The elves, as immortal creatures uniquely feel this loss, because isn't ancient history, but still a living memory.
It is history as mourning. Not so much because the past was better (in fact it was often worst) but because what was can never be again. Tolkien was speaking at the edge of history. His childhood world was no more and could not be recaptured or re-imagined. He grew up without cars or airplanes or modern communication. These technologies have brought many benefits to humanity, but as Tolkien recognizes they wrought much change. In the modern world communities and communal practices fade away. Relationships that defined a person, become inconveniences that are only dealt with at holidays. In the modern world languages fade into silence, cultures are overcome, and distinctions are blended.
The past wasn't perfect. It was full of pain and hurt, much like the present. But for good and for ill, what it represented is no more.
Thursday, March 29, 2012
Words to Remember...
When you read the Bible.
Archbishop Rowan Williams:
Archbishop Rowan Williams:
Remember you’re not the first people to read the Bible. There’s 20 centuries of people praying and thinking through scripture and passing on their wisdom. That’s what we mean by tradition. It would be wonderful if we could recover a really lively and positive sense of what tradition meant. Not this great weight pressing down on you: “this is how we’ve always done it”, but there’s this great reservoir of experience and wisdom which we’re free to draw on and grow with.HT: Catholicity and Covenant
Sunday, March 18, 2012
Fear and the Resurrection
Jesus is dead. Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, and Salome head to the tomb to anoint the body of their so-called Messiah. They had been with Jesus for years now, taking care of him, praying with him, learning from him. He was dead, and so they came to perform their last act of mercy. When they arrived the tomb was open and in the grave a man in white sat, waiting to tell them that Jesus has been raised. The Gospel of Mark then says:
But this was a different animal. Jesus was dead. They had seen him, his body limp and his spirit broken. They watched while the cross was rudely torn down and the nails pounded out. They followed the procession as Joseph of Arimathea wrapped his body and laid their Lord in a tomb. They saw the stone rolled tight. Jesus was dead.
And now a man in white says he is raised. The possibilities are only now beginning to dawn. Be afraid, Jesus is risen.
So they went out and fled from the tomb, for terror and amazement had seized them; and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid.They were afraid. Jesus wasn't supposed to be crucified, but he was. Jesus was supposed to be dead, but he wasn't. Fear struck them. Terror held them. What is this that the dead may walk? They had seen the blind given sight. They knew about the feeding of the thousands. Miracles were performed, even Lazarus stood up.
But this was a different animal. Jesus was dead. They had seen him, his body limp and his spirit broken. They watched while the cross was rudely torn down and the nails pounded out. They followed the procession as Joseph of Arimathea wrapped his body and laid their Lord in a tomb. They saw the stone rolled tight. Jesus was dead.
And now a man in white says he is raised. The possibilities are only now beginning to dawn. Be afraid, Jesus is risen.
Wednesday, March 14, 2012
What you Have
In our contemporary culture we drive to focus on what we don't have. We don't have the money, the job, the right body, and the 'stuff' to make us happy. Our deprivation, no matter how small, becomes our focus. In the season of Lent we are challenged to acknowledge what we truly hold. What we lack is of dust. But what we really hold is eternal. In Lent we say what we have is not mine, but a gift. I think these thoughts as a see this video below. Patrick and his father understand what they have been given, and the possibilities in that gift.
Thursday, March 1, 2012
Possibilities
In my last post I talked about how this season of Lent reminds us that we have nothing but God. That nothingness brings both fear and hope. Our fear lies in our nakedness before God. What we've done, what we've accomplished means nothing. God sees us as we are.
Yet, God is not bound by time. He sees us as we were, are, and shall be. Because in that nothingness we have hope. It is a hope found in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus. In that hope we know we are resurrected. In that hope we know that we are broken, but also redeemed. Through Jesus God sees us as he intended, fully human in relationship with him.
Out of the nothingness God fashion the possible. We are stripped naked, so we can start anew. With God we are not constrained by what we possess. With God our past is not our destiny.
Yet, God is not bound by time. He sees us as we were, are, and shall be. Because in that nothingness we have hope. It is a hope found in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus. In that hope we know we are resurrected. In that hope we know that we are broken, but also redeemed. Through Jesus God sees us as he intended, fully human in relationship with him.
Out of the nothingness God fashion the possible. We are stripped naked, so we can start anew. With God we are not constrained by what we possess. With God our past is not our destiny.
I Got Nothing
During the season of lent we focus on what we don't have. We recognize our frailties and limitations. Jesus went without food and water for 40 days, giving up what was essential to life. He was carpenter, called by God to be the Messiah. Poor. Broken. Then comes Satan to give Jesus what is his--the kingdoms, the power, the might. Jesus rebukes Satan, reminding him that Jesus's power comes from his Father.
Jesus has nothing, but his father. He is the Son of God, yet broken in the desert wilderness. God is his provider.
And so we have nothing. We may think that we have our friends, but friends may leave you. We may think that we have our family, but families may be broken. We may think we have our car and computer, but stuff is like chaff on a windy day. We may think we have our health, but pain is in this world. We surround ourselves with illusions, thinking we control our fate. That we are smart enough or rich enough or know the right people or our reputations will carry us through. But as the season of Lent reminds, we got nothing, but God. In the throw dice it is God and me. From dust we came and to dust we shall return.
Jesus has nothing, but his father. He is the Son of God, yet broken in the desert wilderness. God is his provider.
And so we have nothing. We may think that we have our friends, but friends may leave you. We may think that we have our family, but families may be broken. We may think we have our car and computer, but stuff is like chaff on a windy day. We may think we have our health, but pain is in this world. We surround ourselves with illusions, thinking we control our fate. That we are smart enough or rich enough or know the right people or our reputations will carry us through. But as the season of Lent reminds, we got nothing, but God. In the throw dice it is God and me. From dust we came and to dust we shall return.
Friday, February 24, 2012
Lent Thoughts
Last Wednesday we slide into Lent. Every year Lent seems to creep up on me. I wade through the darkness of January and February, gathering strength for a new year. Then, as the days begin to noticeably lengthen Lent arrives, reminding me of what I am and who I am.
What am I? I am dust, born of the debris of exploding stars, the decayed remains of long ago flowers, and the minerals forged in the heat of the earth. I hold no special place, but like the sparrow or willow tree I was born of this earth and to this earth I shall return.
Who am I? I am a child of God, given life by God to follow Jesus. A spirit resides within me that cannot be so easily vanquished. I am resurrected.
And so Lent reminds me of both. At first it says, remember, dust to dust, ashes to ashes, that is your fate. But then it whispers, look ahead, see the coming dawn, the light on the horizon. For I am dust, but Christ is resurrected and I am with him. And during this season of Lent we hold both our past and our future in our hands.
We are dust, but we are resurrected. The pain is real, but Sunday’s coming. Amen
What am I? I am dust, born of the debris of exploding stars, the decayed remains of long ago flowers, and the minerals forged in the heat of the earth. I hold no special place, but like the sparrow or willow tree I was born of this earth and to this earth I shall return.
Who am I? I am a child of God, given life by God to follow Jesus. A spirit resides within me that cannot be so easily vanquished. I am resurrected.
And so Lent reminds me of both. At first it says, remember, dust to dust, ashes to ashes, that is your fate. But then it whispers, look ahead, see the coming dawn, the light on the horizon. For I am dust, but Christ is resurrected and I am with him. And during this season of Lent we hold both our past and our future in our hands.
We are dust, but we are resurrected. The pain is real, but Sunday’s coming. Amen
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
Romans 15 & 16: Dinner Time
Paul summarizes his letter this way:
It is so easy to stake over this profound truth, so take a moment and breathe in that reality. You belong to God. Once you were an outsider, abandoned and forgotten, but God has called you to the table. Its dinner time, the meal is ready. You thought the party was for someone else, but listen and you’ll hear your name. Look at that the last chapter of Romans. Paul ends with a list of greetings. Some are Jews, but many are Gentiles. Ten are women, twelve are men. The Kingdom of God expands. It cannot be contained by our limitations and categories. Jesus has come for the unrighteous, the Jew and the Gentile. All who believe are saved. Amen
I have written to you rather boldly by way of reminder, because of the grace given me by God to be a minister of Christ Jesus to the Gentiles in the priestly service of the gospel of God, so that the offering of the Gentiles may be acceptable, sanctified by the Holy Spirit. (Rom 15:15-16)In short, Paul wants the Gentiles to be part of the family of God. Jesus has “confirmed the promises given to the patriarchs” and those promises are extended to the Gentiles who believe. Paul wants the family to get bigger and better. The Good News isn’t just for a few, but for all. We are all outsiders, but because of Jesus Christ we belong to God and sit with him.
It is so easy to stake over this profound truth, so take a moment and breathe in that reality. You belong to God. Once you were an outsider, abandoned and forgotten, but God has called you to the table. Its dinner time, the meal is ready. You thought the party was for someone else, but listen and you’ll hear your name. Look at that the last chapter of Romans. Paul ends with a list of greetings. Some are Jews, but many are Gentiles. Ten are women, twelve are men. The Kingdom of God expands. It cannot be contained by our limitations and categories. Jesus has come for the unrighteous, the Jew and the Gentile. All who believe are saved. Amen
Wednesday, February 8, 2012
Romans 14: Living Like a Christian
In the last post I noted that the defining characteristic between Christians (and their neighbors) ought to be love. This is the posture we need to take to one another. When we talk about this very important idea, we usually end the discussion with love. We don’t want to get into the gritty details, because, well, the details are gritty and messy and someone may get offended so let’s just keep it all nice and abstract and talk about God’s love and leave it at that. Whew.
Paul doesn’t take that approach. He says, “love another,” and this is what that means. It means, don’t judge each other because God is judge. Some Christians are weak and can’t understand the grace of God, but “God has welcomed them.” Paul’s vision is that each Christian lives in honor of Jesus and in that honor seeks to lift up her brother or sister. If what I do, though not a sin, causes my fellow Christian to stumble, than I shouldn’t do it. Our goal as Christians is to live in love, which means according to Paul to, “pursue what makes for peace and for mutual upbuilding.” That means we will need to deny ourselves at times, because it ain’t about me. It’s about Jesus. Sometimes we use God’s grace as a hammer to those who are still learning. Paul reminds us that is a selfish way to live in faith. We are to live in God’s Kingdom, which “is not food or drink but righteousness and peace and joy in the Holy Spirit.”
Paul doesn’t take that approach. He says, “love another,” and this is what that means. It means, don’t judge each other because God is judge. Some Christians are weak and can’t understand the grace of God, but “God has welcomed them.” Paul’s vision is that each Christian lives in honor of Jesus and in that honor seeks to lift up her brother or sister. If what I do, though not a sin, causes my fellow Christian to stumble, than I shouldn’t do it. Our goal as Christians is to live in love, which means according to Paul to, “pursue what makes for peace and for mutual upbuilding.” That means we will need to deny ourselves at times, because it ain’t about me. It’s about Jesus. Sometimes we use God’s grace as a hammer to those who are still learning. Paul reminds us that is a selfish way to live in faith. We are to live in God’s Kingdom, which “is not food or drink but righteousness and peace and joy in the Holy Spirit.”
Monday, February 6, 2012
Romans 13: Love your Neighbor
“Love your neighbor as yourself,” says Paul in Romans 13, echoing the words of Jesus Christ. Why? Because, “love is the fulfilling of the law.” You will not murder, you will not steal, nor shall you covet or commit adultery if you love one another. Paul is laying down a marker for the Christian life. It is a life based on love, from which flows all the blessings of the law.
Now this is commonly received wisdom in the church. Really no matter your denomination or whether you’d classify yourself as a liberal or conservative, mainstream or evangelical, you’ve heard a sermon about loving your neighbor. It is a common trope in any church. And because it is so common we forget how astounding it is to hear the statement, “love your neighbor.”
Paul writes this after spending chapters talking about division between Jews and Gentiles. He has seen firsthand the pain that comes from divisions in the church. He understands how living hard it can be to break old habits of division and attitudes of disdain. He wants the Jews and Gentiles to be a church, living in relationship with God and with each other.
But loving your neighbor is even more radical than that. The Roman world was intensely socially stratified. First you had Roman citizens and then everybody else. You had freemen and slaves with no rights but what their master gave them. You had the super-rich with hundreds of slaves. Women where the under the firm hand of their father or husband. Loving your neighbor wasn’t socially responsible in the Roman world, because you neighbor could be some lowly scum. And as Jesus makes clear in the story of the Good Samaritan, your neighbor is your enemy—he is the lowly scum. So “love your neighbor as yourself,” says Paul. Show her respect. Treat her as a friend. Understand that she is part of God’s story. Be a follower of Christ.
Now this is commonly received wisdom in the church. Really no matter your denomination or whether you’d classify yourself as a liberal or conservative, mainstream or evangelical, you’ve heard a sermon about loving your neighbor. It is a common trope in any church. And because it is so common we forget how astounding it is to hear the statement, “love your neighbor.”
Paul writes this after spending chapters talking about division between Jews and Gentiles. He has seen firsthand the pain that comes from divisions in the church. He understands how living hard it can be to break old habits of division and attitudes of disdain. He wants the Jews and Gentiles to be a church, living in relationship with God and with each other.
But loving your neighbor is even more radical than that. The Roman world was intensely socially stratified. First you had Roman citizens and then everybody else. You had freemen and slaves with no rights but what their master gave them. You had the super-rich with hundreds of slaves. Women where the under the firm hand of their father or husband. Loving your neighbor wasn’t socially responsible in the Roman world, because you neighbor could be some lowly scum. And as Jesus makes clear in the story of the Good Samaritan, your neighbor is your enemy—he is the lowly scum. So “love your neighbor as yourself,” says Paul. Show her respect. Treat her as a friend. Understand that she is part of God’s story. Be a follower of Christ.
Friday, February 3, 2012
Romans 12: Bridging the Divide
Paul has spent the last eleven chapters explaining why and how both Jews and Gentiles are part of God’s family. He wanted the church in Rome to understand that both belonged and neither could claim superiority over the other. The Jews could not say they have God’s special favor and the Gentiles could not say that God has rejected the Jews. Paul wanted them to get along and understand that they were a family. But this isn’t your, “you guys are brothers, so stop fighting” type of family. Paul lays out clearly what is a desired, a family based on God’s love.
First, remember it’s not about you or what you have done, it’s about what God has done and is doing. Second, we all have different gifts, but we are all one body. Third, love each other and hate evil. Fourth, love your neighbor, even if he hates you. Feed him, clothe him, bless him.
Paul is saying what Jesus said, you gotta die to self. It ain’t about you, but about God. Fortunately, God love you and sent his son to rescue you. By dying to self you find your true self in God. Paul wants the church to live in harmony and peace (shalom) with themselves and with others. God leads, you follow.
First, remember it’s not about you or what you have done, it’s about what God has done and is doing. Second, we all have different gifts, but we are all one body. Third, love each other and hate evil. Fourth, love your neighbor, even if he hates you. Feed him, clothe him, bless him.
Paul is saying what Jesus said, you gotta die to self. It ain’t about you, but about God. Fortunately, God love you and sent his son to rescue you. By dying to self you find your true self in God. Paul wants the church to live in harmony and peace (shalom) with themselves and with others. God leads, you follow.
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
Romans 11: Branches and Trees, What?
The Bible is full of metaphors and analogies and similes. Many of them are agricultural in nature—chaff and wheat, shepherds and sheep, branches and vines. If you grow up in the church this really isn’t a problem, because you are taught the meaning at such a young age. But if you didn’t grow up in the church (or weren’t paying attention) and weren’t a farmer and shepherd from the Mediterranean Sea than much of what the analogies will go right over your head.
We see this in Romans 11 where Paul is finalizing his “God is for Jews and Gentiles” argument. The first twelve verses reiterate the point that Jews, Paul’s people, still belong to God by his Grace. Then Paul launches into metaphor of branches and olive trees. He compares the Gentiles to wild olive branches that are grafted onto the olive tree. He reminds the Gentiles not to boast or lord it over Jews who do not follow Jesus, because it is only in faith that they are grafted on. And heck, he says, God may graft them back on before the end.
This is a relatively common metaphor in the Bible and in the modern church. Even though so few of us know what grafting a branch on really entails, we employ the metaphor all the time, because, well, it’s in the Bible. I think a different (not necessarily better) way is to imagine a prestigious university. Let’s pretend that this university is in South Dakota and you are from India. Growing up you had no connection to that university, because you lived so far away (physically and culturally). You may have heard about it because it really is the best university in the world, but you didn’t know anything. Then out of the blue one day you get an invitation to attend this school in South Dakota. Your wildest dreams, which you didn’t even you were your dreams, are being fulfilled. You go to that university and the first day you step on campus you are now part of a great history. Even though you just joined and knew nothing about the school, now you can take pride in what happened 50 years ago or in the Nobel Prizes won 10 years ago. The university’s history is now part of your history, even though you had nothing to do with it. You are still Indian, but you also are part of this university.
So it is with Paul and Gentiles the branches and the olive tree.
We see this in Romans 11 where Paul is finalizing his “God is for Jews and Gentiles” argument. The first twelve verses reiterate the point that Jews, Paul’s people, still belong to God by his Grace. Then Paul launches into metaphor of branches and olive trees. He compares the Gentiles to wild olive branches that are grafted onto the olive tree. He reminds the Gentiles not to boast or lord it over Jews who do not follow Jesus, because it is only in faith that they are grafted on. And heck, he says, God may graft them back on before the end.
This is a relatively common metaphor in the Bible and in the modern church. Even though so few of us know what grafting a branch on really entails, we employ the metaphor all the time, because, well, it’s in the Bible. I think a different (not necessarily better) way is to imagine a prestigious university. Let’s pretend that this university is in South Dakota and you are from India. Growing up you had no connection to that university, because you lived so far away (physically and culturally). You may have heard about it because it really is the best university in the world, but you didn’t know anything. Then out of the blue one day you get an invitation to attend this school in South Dakota. Your wildest dreams, which you didn’t even you were your dreams, are being fulfilled. You go to that university and the first day you step on campus you are now part of a great history. Even though you just joined and knew nothing about the school, now you can take pride in what happened 50 years ago or in the Nobel Prizes won 10 years ago. The university’s history is now part of your history, even though you had nothing to do with it. You are still Indian, but you also are part of this university.
So it is with Paul and Gentiles the branches and the olive tree.
Monday, January 30, 2012
Romans 10: All are Welcome
As we’ve seen in the last nine chapters, Paul has a problem. He is a Jew and as such believes in the covenant (read unique, special, one of a kind) relationship that God established with Israel. However, Jesus has come, died, and was resurrected, fulfilling long standing messianic prophecies and bringing salvation to the Jews. Thing is Jesus didn’t fulfill the expectations of the Jews. The Romans still had the upper hand. Israel, the nation, was just a pipe dream. The Kingdom of God had come, but the oppressor still lord it over the Temple. To further complicate matters, through the movement of the Holy Spirit, the early church soon understands that Jesus didn’t come just for the Jews, but also for the Gentiles. To a dedicated Jew all this makes no sense. How can God have a covenant relationship with Jews, yet say that all can belong in His Kingdom? And if Gentiles are part of the family do they need to follow the law? And if they don’t need to follow the law, then are these Christians saying the law (and therefore God’s word) is worthless?
These are difficult questions that to the modern ear seem irrelevant. Yet the answers to these questions are central in understanding our relationship to God. Paul wants us to understand two things:
Amen.
These are difficult questions that to the modern ear seem irrelevant. Yet the answers to these questions are central in understanding our relationship to God. Paul wants us to understand two things:
- Everyone and anyone can now be part of God’s story. Even if you are a Greek from Attica, your story and identity includes what God did with Abraham and Moses and David. Gentiles are grafted to the tree.
- The central character in that story is Jesus, who has come for the Jew and the Gentile.
Amen.
Friday, January 27, 2012
Romans 9: No Satisfaction
I like to think that I’m now a more nuanced reader of the Bible. I understand that it’s historical roots and the different genres. I know that it isn’t a guidebook, but 66 separate books, united in Spirit, yet separated by time, place, audience, and author. I recognize that it’s not an answer book for my problems and questions.
Nevertheless, I like it when the Bible makes sense. Often it doesn’t. I don’t know why the characters act the way they do. I’m baffled by God’s response and the actions of His people. Usually that’s fine, because all this confusion happens in the Old Testaments, really really long ago. Sure, I’m going to understand the reasoning of a pastoral people surrounded by enemies. Yes, Elisha is a bit odd, but he’s a prophet and prophets don’t need to make sense. Plus it happened before the Romulus and Remus built Rome, so just read it and move on. This befuddlement, however, does not stay in the Old Testament. In Romans, chapter 9, I’m frustrated by Paul.
In this chapter Paul is answering a charge against his understanding of faith in Jesus. Namely, what do you do about God’s covenant relationship with Israel? Do the Israelites still belong to God?
Paul’s answer is, in a nutshell, God is God and God can do what God wants. This does not satisfy. I appreciate Paul’s insistence on faith for salvation, rather than work for salvation, and his emphasis that Gentiles can belong to God. Still, even though I don’t know what response I want, this definitely was not it. Yes, God is God and I cannot fathom his ways, but that cannot be a go to answer.
Nevertheless, I like it when the Bible makes sense. Often it doesn’t. I don’t know why the characters act the way they do. I’m baffled by God’s response and the actions of His people. Usually that’s fine, because all this confusion happens in the Old Testaments, really really long ago. Sure, I’m going to understand the reasoning of a pastoral people surrounded by enemies. Yes, Elisha is a bit odd, but he’s a prophet and prophets don’t need to make sense. Plus it happened before the Romulus and Remus built Rome, so just read it and move on. This befuddlement, however, does not stay in the Old Testament. In Romans, chapter 9, I’m frustrated by Paul.
In this chapter Paul is answering a charge against his understanding of faith in Jesus. Namely, what do you do about God’s covenant relationship with Israel? Do the Israelites still belong to God?
Paul’s answer is, in a nutshell, God is God and God can do what God wants. This does not satisfy. I appreciate Paul’s insistence on faith for salvation, rather than work for salvation, and his emphasis that Gentiles can belong to God. Still, even though I don’t know what response I want, this definitely was not it. Yes, God is God and I cannot fathom his ways, but that cannot be a go to answer.
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