But, this isn't a simple parable meant to ward us off of greed. It's a story to demonstrate two different interior predispositions. Do we live with a predisposition towards God, or to anything else? That's what this passage is about. And Jesus' point is the point of the Old Testament, according to Dr. Freedman: living a life predisposed to coveting anything is the road that leads to sin. And it's a well worn path. And it's a path that leads no where good.
Yes, this has been a rambling post, written by one who is still a little off-kilter from international travel, and who pines after the verdant hills of the Mother Country. But, here's what I want to say about prayer: it's important. It effects not only people, but places. It soaks into stone and wood, and grafts itself into the landscape. It's becoming rarer and rarer, apparently even in churches. And, it needs to be neither long nor impressive to be a holy experience.
(I’ve been traveling to holy sites in the north of England and Scotland for the last week, and while I imagined that I’d have lots of time on the bus to bang out some thoughts on upcoming lections… well that didn’t happen. Sorry this was posted later than usual. Cuthbert, Aidan, and Columba were calling my name too much.) Jesus is asked the question by the lawyer, and then he turns the question right back […]
But, then the Image of God that they bore wouldn't have had the time to work it's wonders. Those disciples, two by two, wouldn't have gotten their hands dirty, or witnessed suffering, or held the mourning, or seen health and life wash over illness and death like a cool breeze on a hot summer day.
He did not live in a house but in the tombs. He was kept under guard and bound with chains and shackles. He was driven by the demon into the wilds. For a long time he had worn no clothes. Until he met Jesus. Then he was clothed and in his right mind. You’d think this story of great deliverance would have a happier ending. You’d think the townsfolk would be so happy that this […]
The Kingdom of God is for riff-raff. This is uncomfortable to me. Because I've tried very hard in my life NOT to be riff-raff. As I've lived my life, entered adulthood, and joined the League of Parents I've tried as hard as I can to be as respectable as possible. I try hard not to disrespect the unrespectable, but I also try and keep a comfortable distance, because that sort of thing rubs off, you know. But, our Lord has a soft spot for the unrespectable. They're his people. Yes, yes, Jesus doesn't play favorites. . . But he does really.
As humans, when we come face to face with birth or death we instinctively stop. It’s like there’s a universal recognition of the sacred in such moments. And in moments of birth and death we re-engage our sense of touch. In modern, western, culture we’re funny about touch. And, sure, other cultures are funny about touch too, of course. But we, in particular, don’t generally like to be touched or to touch others unless the […]
Cause if we just sink into the mire of Christian blandness we might as well just climb back into the upper room. And lock the door. I heard it's safe in there. But when the Spirit of God moved on the waters, and Light shined forth, and the morning stars sang together with all the heavenly host - when that hunk of clay took its first breath direct from the lungs of God - when the white-hot fire of God swooped down from Heaven and set a bush on fire/ blazed a trail in the wilderness/ filled the Temple with God's Presence/ brought forth the Holy Spirit and set the disciples' heads literally on fire. . . there was nothing bland about any of it.
The astute reader will recognize in this reading, from the second to last chapter in the Bible, imagery from the second chapter of Genesis, and the Garden of Eden: the Tree of Life and the River flowing on either side of it. Here, in this phase of John's Apocalypse, we return to the cool of the garden - that wonderful time when humanity walked with God in the cool of the day. That time when we spoke to God as casually as we might speak to one another. That time when all was right in the universe, and all was right in our relationship with God. Paul would call this righteousness. But, it's not that the 'unpleasantness' of the fall never happened. Or the unpleasantness of Cain killing Abel. Or the unpleasantness of drunkenness, sordidness, the golden calf, David and Bathsheba, war, strife, hatred, idolatry, unfaithfulness blah, blah, blah - it's not that all that didn't happen. It's that it's all taken care of. The tab has been paid. The tomb is empty. Jesus is made new. And now the full ramifications of the Resurrection of Jesus can be seen: Eden is made new. Eden has returned - but! It's also remade. It's new.
If you’ve been following this blog for a few weeks, you may have noticed a theme. . . I think the juxtaposition of the quasi-continuous readings of the Book of Revelation this Eastertide is a great reminder that the Resurrection of Jesus has personal and cosmic ramifications: everything gets made new. Everything. Even us. Even the whole wide world. Peter catches a glimpse of that in the lesson from Acts. His personal struggle with the […]