easter 6a: the eternal desire of God

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Historical Books / Lectionary / New Testament / Old Testament / Pentateuch / Temple

“This is the Spirit of truth, whom the world cannot receive, because it neither sees him nor knows him. You know him, because he abides with you, and he will be in you.‘I will not leave you orphaned; I am coming to you.” John 14:17-18

In the beginning, when God created the Heavens and the Earth – when the morning stars sang together with all the heavenly host – God dwelt with us in the Garden. God was close. God was close to us, because God wanted to be close to us.

on earth as it is, by Rick Morley After God rescued his children from the oppression of slavery in Egypt, he told them that he would meet them atop the Ark of the Covenant, on the Mercy Seat, between the wings of the cherubim. The very Presence of God Almighty dwelt among his people. And there he met us.

After David established Jerusalem as the heart of the Israel, and after Solomon built a grand Temple atop Zion, the Presence of God Almighty entered the Temple. It was the place where Heaven and Earth met. It was the place where God pitched his tent amongst us.

And, in the fullness of time, Jesus came. Born of our sister Mary. The Word became flesh and dwelt among us.

God becoming flesh was new. Groundbreaking. World-altering.

But, it’s the same story. It was happening in a new way, but it was always the desire of God: to be with His People.

In Jesus, God pitched his tent with us. And this time God was taking on flesh. Living among us. Living as one of us. Living for us.

Dying for us.

And, even after we chanted “Crucify Him! Crucify Him!” he wouldn’t abandon us.

“Because I live, you also will live.” John 14:19

The Grand Story of God is the beautiful story of a God who not only created us out of the dust of the ground, made us in His holy image, and breathed his life into us – but it’s also the story of a God who has pursued us to the ends of the earth from the beginning.

Apparently, we had Him at “hello.”

Not because we were particularly good. Or smart. Or witty. Or cute. Or any of that.

But, because we are His.

And yes, there are moments when we strayed far away from him. We set up altars to foreign gods. We worshipped idols. We failed to live according to The Way he asked us to. And yes, there are times when we were punished. When we were sent away.

When we sat in Babylon with no song to sing. When our teeth ground on gravel.

But, time after time after time God’s love always won out. Time after time God claimed us once more. And God pitched his tent just a little closer to us than the last time.

“I will not leave you orphaned. I am coming to you.” John 14:18

Yes, you are Jesus. As always.

easter 5a: sir, your room is ready

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Gospels / Lectionary / New Testament / Temple

In my Father’s House there are many mansions.

This is one of those gospel verses which rings in the souls of many of the faithful. The prospect of a mansion being prepared us to enjoy for all eternity is just too wonderful for words.

Visions of marble, gold faucets, sleep number beds, manicured lawns, and grand crystal chandeliers come readily to mind when we ponder this passage. And, for those of us unfortunate enough not to have a mansion in this life, the promise of acquiring one in the life to come stirs the senses.

I have to say though, that this is not one of the passages of Jesus’ teachings that speaks readily to me. Not because I’m uncomfortable with Jesus’ sentiments here, but because I’m uncomfortable with the all-too-typical-take on them.

A Mansion in the Wilderness, by Rick Morley I get uncomfortable with any version of our faith which turns Christianity into something that’s all about us. There are far too many teachings on Jesus, salvation, and Heaven, which remake Christianity into a narcissistic cult. And that’s the very opposite of the kind of faith that Jesus presents and compels us to follow.

The faith, as Jesus taught it, is all about us loving God and our neighbor. It’s an outwardly focused faith, which pushes us to look around and find people to love, and a God to adore.

When we refashion our faith into a mechanism whereby we just get lots of stuff…we lose the central essence of Jesus. The same very essence which compelled Jesus to give his life on a cross, not just ‘get stuff’ for himself.

It’s that cross-shaped life which we’re asked to emulate.

Take up your cross.

I think the key phrase here in this passage from the fourteenth chapter of John is: “In MY FATHER’S house…”

It’s not our mansion. Not our marble. Not our four car garage and personal theatre.

It’s God’s House.

The phrase “God’s House” is used over and over again in the Scriptures to refer to the Temple in Jerusalem. It’s the place where God’s Name is to be worshiped and praised. It’s the place where the Presence of God dwells among His People. It’s the place where the Heavenly Realm and the Earthly realm (the heavens and the earth) meet together.

And, whether we’re talking about the House of God below, or the House of God above – we’re talking about a place that is, first-and-foremost, God’s.

Jesus promises to prepare a place in His Father’s house for us. And that’s where this passage strikes me in the gut: In God’s House, where His Name is worshiped, and where He dwells…I have a place. A spot.

Made ready just for me. By the Savior of the World.

I am invited in. You’re invited in. We’re invited in.

At that point I don’t care what the thread count is on the sheets, or how many inches the flat-screen 3D TV is above the fireplace.

We get a spot in God’s House. Prepared just for us.

Isn’t that enough?

Book Review – Christ Alone: An Evangelical Response to Rob Bell’s Love Wins

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book review

Christ-aloneChrist Alone, by Michael E. Wittmer, is published by Edenridge Press, and is available at Hearts and Minds Books, Amazon, and, no-doubt, countless other outlets. Byron Borger, of Hearts and Minds Books, also wrote a review of Christ Alone that is well worth reading-and it was his review that alerted me to the publication of this book. Thanks to Byron.

First off, let me just say how thrilled I am that the church as a whole, and individual Christians of several stripes, are having the discussion of Matters Eternal. Whatever one may think of Love Wins or Wittmer’s response Christ Alone, I think the fact that people who occupy both pulpits and pews are now talking passionately about salvation, and not just bedrooms, bodes well for the Faith.

I am also heartened by Wittmer’s tone in Christ Alone, which he sets from the get go. I’ve visited the “Rob Bell” Facebook page several times in the past few weeks, and it has become a place of shrill, uncharitable shouting. Wittmer begins his book on his take of the Christian Gospel in a manner befitting the Gospel. And, that’s, pardon the pun, good news.

In terms of the quality of Wittmer’s book, I am as impressed as I am stunned. It took me eight years to write a book, and he wrote this one in a month – and it is cogent, thorough, well-thought out, well-written, and well-edited. He should be proud.

Wittmer also demonstrates his abilities as a true theologian. Bell writes Love Wins in the manner of…well…poetry. It’s as much work of art as it is a treatise on salvation. And, in this sense, the conversation between Love Wins and Christ Alone is an unfair fight. It’s a duel where Bell brings a paintbrush, and Wittmer brings a Louisville Slugger – monogrammed of course with Augustine and C. S. Lewis.

Of course, I take issue with several points of Wittmer’s critique, and I take issue with some of Wittmer’s conclusions.

The Meaning of the Cross

This is one spot where I found Wittmer’s book very enlightening. In the chapter “Cross and Resurrection,” Wittmer picked up on something that I missed in Love Wins: the meaning of the sacrifice and Resurrection is downgraded. I’m not sure that Bell intended this, or that he believes that the death and Resurrection of Christ is ineffectual, but it’s there nonetheless.

In my own review of Love Wins I said that Bell isn’t the classic theological liberal that some are making him out to be. He doesn’t dispute the realities of the Incarnation, Passion, and Resurrection at all. This isn’t another liberal screed where Jesus is reduced to being merely a good-guy (the Buddy Christ) whose Resurrection was either a plot or group hallucination. No, Bell believes they are real, and he says so with gusto. But, in Love Wins, what does he think it all means?

As Wittmer correctly states, in Love Wins, the death and Resurrection of Christ are presented as ideas that ring through creation, but don’t seem to have any salvific power in and of themselves. We’re supposed to know it’s all true because we see it every spring. But, spring doesn’t save us. (Trust me, it’s spring now, and I feel like I’m dying of allergies…)

As an Anglican Christian and priest, each Easter Eve I gather with my community around the Paschal (Easter) Candle to sing of the importance of the reconciliation that was found in the Easter Event. We sing of Jesus Christ who:

is the true Paschal Lamb, who at the feast of the Passover paid for us the debt of Adam’s sin, and by his blood delivered your faithful people.

This is the night, when you brought our fathers, the children of Israel, out of bondage in Egypt, and led them through the Red Sea on dry land.

This is the night, when all who believe in Christ are delivered from the gloom of sin, and are restored to grace and holiness of life.

This is the night, when Christ broke the bonds of death and hell, and rose victorious from the grave.

– The Book of Common Prayer, page 287

It was so many years ago that Bell preached this sermon, that there’s no way I can cite it – but he preached a sermon where he talked about the acceptance or rejection of Jesus. He likened Jesus’ sacrifice on the cross to a young man asking a young woman on a date (I think it was to prom). He talked about this young man going totally out of his way to do it in the most vulnerable way possible. And, should that young girl reject him, his willingness to be so tender and vulnerable would sear his heart and soul. He was saying that in the cross, Jesus was going so far out of his way to show us God’s love that we just HAD to respond in love back.

But, if Bell really believes that the cross doesn’t actually mean anything new, why go to all the effort to buy the flowers, the limo, and hire the dude with an airplane to write the question in the sky?

I don’t think that Bell said everything that he believes about Jesus’ sacrifice and Resurrection. But, those omissions are telling, and Wittmer picked up on them.

Love and Justice

He is neither more loving than he is holy, nor more holy than he is loving.
-Chapter 1, Mystery

This is maybe the one section of the book that could have used a few more weeks or months to ferment and settle. “He is neither more loving than holy“? What?

Where do we find that? We do find the statement “God is Love” (1 John 4:8) in the Scriptures, but nowhere do we find it’s cousin, “God is Justice.” We find it’s second-cousin twice removed, “God is just,” but it’s equivalent would be “God is loving.”

He says that love and justice are the “opposite ends of a continuum.”

I’m not sure where he gets this, but I have to disagree.

God IS love. Period. And, God IS just. Period.

And those two properties of God do a dance, especially in the long story of the scriptures. God loves Adam and Eve, but then God must punish them for their disobedience. God loves his creation, and then sends the flood. God loves His People, but then Jerusalem must be laid waste and the people carried off into captivity in Babylon.

But, in that dance, love always follows the judgment – otherwise there wouldn’t be a next chapter. God’s perpetual movement in the Scriptures is towards his people – and even at the Last Vision in Revelation he gives us one more chance, “Come out of her (Babylon), my people!” (Rev. 18:4)

Where to Begin?

Wittmer’s declaration that God is “Judge” more than “Father” galled me like nothing else in this book. (Chapter 9: God)

We aren’t members of God’s Family?! We aren’t children of our Heavenly Father? Instead of a Heavenly Father, we have a judge? On a bench? Whose pounding gavel will send us one place or another?

Did Jesus teach his disciples to pray: Our Supreme Court Chief Justice, who art on the bench…?

First of all, Wittmer needs to go back and look at the use of metaphor in the Bible as it speaks of God. There is no one metaphor that captures the fullness of God. Yes, in some places he is the righteous Judge who comes to judge the world. And, in other places he is our “rock and redeemer.” He’s a “mighty tower,” a “fortress.” He’s our “go’el,” our “redeemer” who redeems us with the price that needs paid. He’s our Father who comes running down the road when we turn in repentance, and kills the fatted calf. He’s a “nursing mother,” a “hen” with a brood of chicks.

There is no one metaphor that trumps the rest. God is so huge that one metaphor can’t capture all of Him. It’s why our Lord can be both “shepherd” and “paschal lamb.” At the same time.

And, as Bell is fond of saying (especially at his conference “Poets, Prophets, and Preachers”), it’s important to “begin in the beginning.”

If your understanding of God starts out with God regarding us as sinners, you’re starting the story with the third chapter of Genesis. The fall. But, if you start there, you’re missing something.

…Like the first and second chapters of the Bible. Remember them?

It’s there that we’re created in God’s image. God forms us out of the dust of the ground, and invites us to share in the grandeur of creation (being fruitful and all that). He walks with us in the cool of the Garden. When we go missing, he comes to find us. He, apparently, meant for us to eat of the Tree of Life, whereby we’d live forever in close communion with him.

When God looks down on us, he sees his beloved creatures. He sees creatures embodied with the divine image.

It would be like me looking at one of my daughters and seeing some wayward child who prefers candy to vegetables, who leaves her shoes strewn around the house, and who fails to pick up her toys. Infidel! Untidy seven year old bother!

No. I look at her and love her. Even when I trip over her shoes. She’s mine, and there’s nothing that could ever make me stop loving her. I’m not her judge. I’m her daddy. I correct her from time to time. Sometimes she gets a time-out or has to go to her room. But, when it’s all over she gets a hug and I tell her I love her.

God is our Abba. Daddy. Father.

I suppose if you regard humanity as a bunch of rusty, sinful nails, the only God you’re going to regard is a pounding hammer.

Yes, we’re sinners. Yes, we’ve all sinned and fallen short of the glory of God. But, God loves us anyway.

Jesus as Mechanism

In the chapter on Hell, Wittmer does something that is shocking to me: he quotes from the story of Lazarus and the Rich Man in Luke, and from the separation of the Sheep and Goats in Matthew. I’m shocked because evangelicals who are talking about salvation usually stay far, far away from these texts.

Wittmer recalls them to demonstrate that Hell is real, and forever. That when you’re cast into Hell, that’s it.

But…there’s one little detail that Wittmer just leaves conveniently out of the discussion…why are the Rich Man and the goats in Hell?

The reason he leaves this alone, and the reason why these stories are always left on the cutting room floor in reformed evangelical treatments of salvation is that…well they’re unReformed!

Whenever Wittmer wants to talk about how one gets saved in his book he sticks to the standard script: a few verses of Paul, and a few verses from the Gospel of John. It’s all about belief in Jesus. As Wittmer says, salvation is “simple.” Uncomplicated. Easy.

Unless you swing back to the Rich Man and the goats. The Rich Man is in Hell because…he didn’t share what he had with Lazarus, the poor man who laid at his gate day-in and day-out starving in his poverty. The goats were sent to eternal punishment because…they failed to feed the hungry, give drink to the thirsty, visit the imprisoned, etc., etc.

Oooops.

They didn’t go to Hell because they didn’t have faith, or repent of their sins, or repeat the Sinner’s Prayer. And, if you dare to look in other places of the teachings of Jesus you find other teachings on salvation. Jesus tells the Rich-Young-Ruler to follow the commandments to inherit eternal life, he tells a lawyer to love God and neighbor, he tells others to come as a child, to do the works of God, to eat his flesh and drink his blood, be born again, believe in him, and be wary of riches.

When teaching on salvation, Jesus is anything but simplistic. He doesn’t have one, single teaching on salvation – he has many.

And, so this is where Wittmer makes, in my opinion, the great error of reformed theology: treating Jesus only as Mechanism-to-get-us-to-Heaven rather than also a Teacher who has somethings to say.

There’s an old bumper sticker that reads: Jesus is the Answer. I think it should be reworded: Jesus has the Answers.

In the gospels, between the stories of his birth and his death on a cross…he actually says stuff. Important stuff. And, if we’re going to call ourselves his disciples, his followers, shouldn’t we listen to what he has to say?

If our teachings start to sound more like Calvin, Luther, and C. S. Lewis than Jesus…don’t we need to rethink things?

Wittmer says in a few places that Bell’s Love Wins says things that the Bible doesn’t say, and that that’s not Bell’s prerogative to do so. I think Wittmer should take his own advise seriously. If Jesus doesn’t teach a simplistic stick-tab-a-into-slot-b view of salvation, then we shouldn’t either.

Conclusion
I’m glad that Rob Bell wrote Love Wins. And, I’m glad that Michael Wittmer wrote Christ Alone. I’m glad for their tones, their points of convergence, and their points of disagreement. We have a beautiful, mysterious, powerful faith in God who did wondrous things for the salvation of His People. We have a God who is love, and a God who is just. And, we have a God who is so broad and deep that one perspective, book, preacher, sermon, or blog post can’t capture all of Him.

Not. Even. Close.

And, because God is so wonderful and holy, so full of love and justice…our faith in Him can’t be all about us. Christianity isn’t about us. It’s not about us getting to Heaven. It’s not about us avoiding Hell. On the night before his death on a cross, an event which opened salvation up for the whole world, he told us to love one another.

His last command. His new command. Love others. Wash their feet. Serve them as Jesus served. Break bread, and share it. For the life of the world.

Our faith is about pushing love outward, to our brothers and sisters who are also made in the Image of God, and to the God who bent down in a Garden and molded a hunk of clay into that image.

Eternal life is just a bonus. But, this faith is about Him.

Kindle675x900Rick Morley is the author of Going to Hell, Getting Saved, and What Jesus Actually Says. Like Christ Alone, it’s available at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, at nearly all eBook retailers, and especially at St. Bede’s Books in Baltimore, Hearts and Minds Bookstore in Dallastown PA, and The Bookworm in Bernardsville NJ.

easter 4a: enter

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Gospels / Lectionary / New Testament

Throughout the Gospel of John, every time Jesus says “I Am,” he’s saying that he’s the same God who gave His name to Moses in the burning bush.

Of all the “I Am” statements in the Gospel of God, “I am the gate” from chapter ten is usually overlooked. The others are forever memorialized in hymns and stained glass windows.

But, there just aren’t many great hymns of the church about gates.

“I am the gate” is not only often overlooked, I also think it’s sorely misinterpreted and misunderstood.

Jesus is talking about a gate, a shepherd, a gatekeeper, a group of sheep, and a group of thieves and bandits. And that’s all well and fine, but Jesus explicitly claims to be the gate. Then he explicitly claims to be the shepherd.

And, depending on how you look at it, he might even be the gatekeeper at the same time.

Whoa!

So Jesus-the-shepherd enters Jesus-the-gate because Jesus-maybe-the-gatekeeper opens it for him…so that he can get to the sheep.

Ok, I might be a little confused too.

Jesus is either having an identity crisis, he’s mixing his metaphors…or he’s trying to make a larger point.

Which is what I actually think he’s doing.

There’s a weird little detail that is easily missed, and I think brings the whole thing into focus. In the thirteenth chapter of the Gospel of Luke, Jesus tells his disciples to “strive to enter through the narrow door, for many I tell you will seek to enter and will not be able.

Unlike the gate-teaching in the Gospel of John that is often lost, this teaching from the Gospel of Luke is much better known.

And there’s the problem. If one isn’t careful, you’d read “I am the gate” in John and think it’s Jesus talking about the same thing as in Luke.

It isn’t.

The teaching from Luke is known because of its moralistic tone. Walk the “straight and narrow,” and therefore strive to make it into God’s Kingdom.

That may be what Jesus was saying in Luke. But, that certainly isn’t what Jesus is saying in the Gospel of John.

This is a completely different teaching.

Because the sheep aren’t the ones entering the door—Jesus is going in the door.

The gatekeeper opens the gate for him, and the sheep hear his voice. He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out.

And Jesus leads the sheep out. Not in.

Not into the enclosure—not into the pen—not into the fenced in area.

Jesus enters and leads them—us—out.

Which, of course, begs the question: if Jesus is leading us out, where is he leading us out from?

And, maybe more importantly, where is he leading us to?

You see, there is a tendency among non-Christians,and even among long-time Christians, to think that the Christian life is meant to be narrow, limited, and certainly without fun. There is the fallacy that says that the ideal Christian life is supposed to be bland, reserved, staid—milque-toast, vanilla; that when we become Christians—or when we start to take our faith seriously—it means that we can’t do all the fun things we used to, or say the things we used to, or drink the things we used to, or party the way we used to.

But, what Jesus says is that he’s not here to lead us into constraint…he’s here to lead us out!

What Jesus says is that the old way of life—the ‘world’s’ way of living, with all it’s excesses and addiction—is actually the constrained, fenced in existence from which Jesus is here to free us.

Now, admittedly, all excesses and worldly ways of living don’t end up in addictions, per se, but when you talk to people who are addicted to alcohol, to drugs, to shopping, to food, to sex, to their work, to their looks, etc, they don’t talk about how “free” they are because of all they can eat, buy, smoke, or do.

They talk about how they just can’t stop.

And they talk about it in terms of bondage.

And, what Jesus does…is he sets us free.

He breaks us out of the pen. In fact, the Greek text of John 10 literally reads: he throws us out. And he takes us to what he calls in verse ten: life abundant.

Jesus doesn’t offer milk-toast. He offers life to its fullest: free and unrestrained.

This little allegory that Jesus gives in the opening verses of the tenth chapter of John is actually an account of the meaning of the Incarnation: Jesus enters the world to lead us out.

But, this isn’t Scotty beaming us up. This isn’t the express train “outta Dodge.”

And it’s not something we get when we die.

For in the Gospel of John, we are given the abundant/eternal life now—right now. It’s right here for the taking.

Jesus comes to free us from the world of bondage, sin, excesses, addictions, and constraints and leads us out to be born through the gates of God’s new life where not even death and destruction can touch us.

Like sheep who follow the voice of their shepherd.

All we need do is hear Jesus’ voice, and follow him out.

This blog post is a portion of the 11th chapter of my new book Going to Hell, Getting Saved, and What Jesus Actually Says.


a litany for Mother’s Day

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Prayers of the People

On this day when we remember our mothers, let us offer our prayers to Jesus, the son of Mary.

Because on this earth we are all sons and daughters of Eve, let us pray for the whole world and the church universal, that we might behold each other as brothers and sisters. Lord in your mercy.

Hear our Prayer.

As Rebecca gave birth to Jacob, and in so doing she gave birth to a whole nation, let us pray for our own nation, and for all in authority. Lord in your mercy.

Hear our Prayer.

As Rachel’s son Joseph was mistreated, beaten, and wrongly jailed, we pray for all in this world who are in trouble of any kind. We pray for the poor, the hungry, the imprisoned, and the victims of war and all who live in terror’s wake. Lord in your mercy.

Hear our Prayer.

As Hannah, the mother of Samuel, went to the House of the Lord to pray with earnest integrity, we earnestly pray for those in this community, and especially those celebrating their birthdays this week  . . . Lord in your mercy.

Hear our Prayer.

As Naomi took Ruth into her home, we pray for those who act as surrogate, spiritual mothers. We pray with gratitude for all those who give the gift of love and nurturing. Lord in your mercy.

Hear our Prayer.

As Elizabeth gave birth in old age, and as she saw her son John the Baptist carried off to persecution, we pray for all those who are sick, those who are suffering, and those with any need, especially. . . Lord in your mercy.

Hear our Prayer.

And, as the Blessed Virgin Mary stood by the cross and watched her son die, we pray for the dead and the dying. Lord in your mercy.

Hear our Prayer.

Lord Jesus, who wishes to gather your people as a mother hen gathers together her brood, we offer to you our prayers. Accept our gratitude for all who mother, bless all who mother, and give all mothers your comfort and strength. And help all of us, brothers and sisters, to be your family on earth, as we shall be in Heaven. Amen.

easter 3a: on the road again

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Gospels / Lectionary / New Testament

In the story of the journey to Emmaus there’s something going on.

Yes, the disciples, like Mary Magdalene in John’s account of the Resurrection, were in Jesus’ presence and didn’t know he was there. That says something about the Resurrected life: it’s the same life, the same person – but there’s also something profoundly different. The previous life is blurred, at first unrecognizable.

But, I think there’s also more here. Here in the later chapters of his gospel, Luke is talking to his community about worship and Jesus’ abiding Presence.

As soon as Jesus receives confirmation that these disciples have 1) no idea who he is, and 2) no idea what’s going on, he launches into his story…beginning with Moses and all the prophets.

On the Road to Emmaus they have a Liturgy of the Word.

I think it’s interesting that Luke doesn’t give us great detail here. He doesn’t give us the chapters and verses (as if the Bible had chapters and verses at that point…) or specific narratives which tell the story of Jesus in the Hebrew Bible.

Personally, I think it’s an invitation: I think Luke is baiting his community (and us) to read the Hebrew Bible and look for Jesus there. Where’s Incarnation in the Exodus? Where’s Resurrection in the Babylonian captivity? Let’s go find out!

"The Long Road" by Rick Morley But, Jesus isn’t done. He stays and has a meal. He breaks bread.

Jesus has a Liturgy of the Table after a Liturgy of the Word.

And, of course, it’s in the breaking of the bread that the veil is lifted, and they recognize the Risen Lord in front of them.

And then as quickly as he came, he’s gone.

Luke’s message to us is clear: Jesus is everywhere, even when unseen. He’s in the story of the People of God going back to Moses, and sometimes he’s right in front of our faces. And, while the veil may lift on many occasions and holy opportunities, it is readily lifted when we gather together for worship; breaking open the scriptures and breaking open the bread.

Luke asks his community, and us, to realize that he’s with us. And, when we gather to worship, even as two or three as there were on the road to Emmaus that day, Christ is so close we can touch him…and share in his life in the breaking of bread.

Even if we have no idea who he is, or what’s going on.

And, boy is that good news.

easter 2a: Thomas

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Gospels / Lectionary

For several years now I’ve been intrigued by the hypothesis of Dr. Elaine Pagels that the Gospel of John was written as a critique of the Gospel of Thomas. In many of her works, but especially in “Beyond Belief: The Secret Gospel of Thomas” she paints the picture of two rival Christian communities; Christian believers who rallied around the apostle Thomas, and another group of Christian believers who rallied around the apostle John.

Looking at the two Gospels which bear their respective names she lifts out some severe differences. Most notably is the suggestion in the Gospel of Thomas that the Light of God is within us. John says ‘no,’ it’s in Jesus.

The part of this hypothesis that most intrigues me is her assertion that each gospel author bases a large part of their writing on differing exegeses of the creation story in the Book of Genesis. While Thomas claims over and over again that the divine can be found from within – because we are all created in God’s image (us and Jesus), John includes explicit references in his prologue to say that while the Light was in the world the Light wasn’t understood, known or received until the Word/ Light became flesh. In other words: the Light isn’t us, it’s Jesus.

Pagels writes:

Mark, Matthew, and Luke mention Thomas only as one of “the twelve.” John singles him out as “the doubter”—the one who failed to understand who Jesus is, or what he is saying, and rejected the testimony of the other disciples. John then tells how the risen Jesus personally appeared to Thomas in order to rebuke him, and brought him to his knees. From this we might conclude, as most Christians have for nearly two millennia, that Thomas was a particularly obtuse and faithless disciple—though many of John’s Christian contemporaries revered Thomas as an extraordinary apostle, entrusted with Jesus’ ”secret words.” The scholar Gregory Riley suggests that John portrays Thomas this way for the practical—and polemical—purpose of deprecating Thomas Christians and their teaching. According to John, Jesus praises those “who have not seen, and yet believed” without demanding proof, and rebukes Thomas as “faithless” because he seeks to verify the truth from his own experience.

Kindle Text Location 892-99 “Beyond Belief,” Elaine Pagels

Dr. Pagels points out three stories of Thomas that are only found in the Gospel of John – and all of which paint Thomas in a very poor light. The first is when Jesus is headed off to raise Lazarus and Thomas forlornly adds that the disciples should go to that “we should die with him.” Then when Jesus tell his disciples that he is going ahead of them to prepare a place for them, Thomas responds ‘where are you going? How can we know the way?’ And, then when Resurrected Jesus appears to the disciples – Thomas ‘missed the meeting.’ He wasn’t there, and then refused to believe unless he had proof.

Then, when Jesus appeared a second time, this time with Thomas present, Thomas utters the words that would never be found in the Gospel that bears his name: “My lord and my God!”

Therefore if Pagels (and Gregory Riley) are correct, what we find on “Thomas Sunday” in none-other than an ancient reminder of two communities that claimed to be Christian but who differed remarkably when it came to Christology. It should be said that the actual apostle Thomas may not have been the author of the illicit gospel that bears his name, nor the leader of a community that took his name and identity as their own – but the evidence looks good that there was indeed a community of self-proclaimed Christians who really believed that they were followers of the apostle Thomas.

So. . . here’s my thoughts on preaching this Sunday. . .

I hate to break this to you. . . but the crowds that you saw overtaking your pews on Easter Sunday probably aren’t going to all be back this Sunday. In other words, if you’re like most churches, you’ll have a few more vacant pews this week than you did last week.

And, while we all lament that, there is a wonderful opportunity here. I always look on the ‘low Sunday’ attenders as being particularly ‘hard core.’ So, I think a little in-depth sermonic history and theology is well within the bounds of possibility this week.

Go for it!

The Gospel of Thomas – and other ‘secret’ ‘forbidden’ ‘gnostic’ texts have gotten a lot of press in the last decade. There’s just something about ‘something else’ being out there that we weren’t all taught in Sunday School that sounds intriguing, cool, and like the beginnings of a scandal. Like the cookie jar that we were all told to keep out of, there’s something attractive to modern audiences about illicit, heretical writings. And, so I say, go for it!

To take the Gospel of Thomas head-on, to take an opportunity to raise the theological diversity of the ancient Church, AND to take the opportunity to say why in the end the Gospel of John made the cut and the Gospel of Thomas (with all it’s new-age-y ‘stuff’) didn’t – is important.

And, to me, that’s such a better option than one more sermon on how doubting isn’t all that bad anyway. . . it’s the ‘ants in the pants of faith’ . . . blah. . . blah. . . blah.

 

For further reading:

Elaine Pagels’ book Beyond Belief.

Or, the journal article (available on EBSCO/ ATLA database) Exegesis of Genesis 1 in the Gospels of Thomas and John. Pagels, Elaine H. Journal of Biblical Literature 118 no 3 Fall 1999, p 477-496. 1999.

easter morning, year a: so, what’s in it for me anyway?

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Gospels / Lectionary / New Testament

I’ve recently been re-reading sections of N. T. Wright’s “Surprised by Hope,” in search of some Easter-homily inspiration.

One of the points which he makes early on in the book is that in none of the accounts of the Resurrection in the gospels is there a single mention of what it means for us.

There is no meta-analysis. No commentary.

There’s no “Jesus is Risen…and so we shall be raised too.” No, “Jesus lives…and just wait until X, Y, and Z come to pass too.”

Easter Flower by Rick Morley It’s just “Jesus is Risen.”

Now in the later pages of the New Testament, most notably in the writings of Paul, there’s plenty of commentary on how the Resurrection impacts our life and the life of the Church. There’s even plenty of instruction on how to tap into that Resurrection power through faith, belief, upright living, the acquisition of righteousness, and baptism – baptism into Jesus’ death and Resurrection.

But, not in the accounts of the Resurrection itself.

Gosh, could it be that Easter morning isn’t about us?

Can it simply be about Jesus?

In John’s account, Mary encounters the Risen Christ, and – after she finally realizes that she’s not speaking with the gardener, but her Lord – he tells her to go back and tell the others that he is going to ascend.

Not: “Mary! Here I am! Isn’t this great! And guess what’s in store for you!”

No. It’s all about Jesus. He’s Risen, and he’s about to go to his Father.

In the Gospels, Jesus’ Resurrection is all about identifying him as the Son of God and God Incarnate who has power over life and death. But none of the evangelists take that moment to expound on the ramifications for the rest of us.

And, it’s not just that way on the actual Day of Resurrection – because the evangelists wrote decades and decades after the Event itself.

But, when they recounted and told the Sacred Story of Jesus’ Resurrection – how it happened, where it happened, and who was there when it happened – it didn’t matter what the consequences were for us.

In that moment, in the telling of that Holy Story, it’s all about Jesus.

In many other situations early Christians would wax poetic on how we would rise with Jesus – that in the waters of baptism we share in the power of Jesus’ Resurrection – that death and sin can no longer hold us down.

But, not when talking about that Morning of the first day of the week which became the first Morning of the dawning of a New Creation.

Do we dare make Easter about ourselves, like it’s Christmas morning all over again and “guess-who” was here in the night and ate all the cookies and left us all the presents?

Could we preach the story of his Resurrection to the pastel-tie-and-bonnet-bedecked masses without telling them what’s in it for them? Would that be a bummer of a sermon? A let-down?

I mean if we did that, half of them might not come back next week.

😉

But seriously, if we merely turn Easter into one more way that we can GET stuff – even if that ‘stuff’ is eternal life, salvation, forgiveness, etc. – are we even telling the story of Easter at all?

Prayers of the People for Palm Sunday

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Holy Week / Prayers of the People

This version of the Prayers of the People has been written with the Christ Hymn from Philippians in mind, and would be appropriate for use on Palm Sunday. You may feel free to use and adapt as would be most helpful to you and your community.

Officiant Christ, we pray that you would hear our prayers, and graft in our minds the same mind that is in you, that we might be vessels of your humility and grace.

Intercessor Lord Jesus, you emptied yourself, trading in the form of God for the form of a slave; we pray for the Church, and all her people and ministers. Form us into a Church that empties itself for others, and for you.

Lord in your mercy, hear our prayer.

Lord Jesus, you were born in human likeness, and found in human form; we pray for the whole human family, for the nations of the earth, and for all who live in the midst of disaster, famine, or terror.

Lord in your mercy, hear our prayer.

Lord Jesus, even after humbling yourself in your incarnation, you humbled yourself even to the point of death; we pray for our nation, our leaders, and all the people who live within these borders. Bless us with your humility.

Lord in your mercy, hear our prayer.

Lord Jesus your humility and your love for us was so broad and deep, it cost you your life. We pray for those who we love who have died, and as you were highly exalted, may they rest with you in glory.

Lord in your mercy, hear our prayer.

In your exaltation, O Lord, you were given the name that is above every name; we pray in your name for those who are poor, those who are hungry, and those who are hurting in any way. Give them your grace.

Lord in your mercy, hear our prayer.

We also pray, in your name O Lord, for those who are sick (especially…); give them the gift of healing, strength, and life.

Lord in your mercy, hear our prayer.

Officiant You humbled yourself in the manger, and you humbled yourself on the cross; and to you O Lord we bend our knee with those above and those below, to the glory of God the Father. Amen.

Palm Sunday Year A: The Cross of Agony

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Gospels / Lectionary / New Testament / Old Testament

The portrayal of the Passion and Crucifixion in the Synoptics differs from the Gospel of John. In the Synoptics the Crucifixion is a moment of agony. Jesus is screaming screams of abandonment while being tortured.

In the Gospel of John, however, the Passion is a moment of glory. It’s the raising up of the Son of God for all the world to see. Even hanging on the cross, Jesus is in charge, and making plans for his mother to be cared for by the Beloved Disciple. His life isn’t ripped from him, but he “gives up” his Spirit. And, the moment of death corresponds to the sacrifice of the Paschal lambs in the Temple.

Every year we begin each Holy Week in a Palm Sunday liturgy which always features a Synoptic account, and every year on Good Friday we read from the account in John.

Preaching both of these accounts from their various perspectives is important – and it’s important to not conflate the two into one bland catch-all Passion.

For when the first Christians spoke of, preached on, and wrote about the death of Our Lord, they did so in different ways. Sometimes they conveyed the event as horrendous and horrific. They used language that is painful to read aloud.

And other times the first Christians spoke of his death as a fulfillment, and an opportunity for the whole world to see and know the glory of God and the all-encompassing power of His love.

It’s not that one version of the story is more ‘right’ or ‘correct’ than the other. They are both True. They are both Right.

Corpus from The Cloister's Collection: photo by Rick Morley
They both need preached, and taught, and absorbed.

The Crucifixion was awful.

And it was the ultimate moment of Glory.

I think the heart of the Passion account of Matthew is the part that begins with “From noon on,” and ends with the faithful exclamation of the centurion.

Jesus cries out twice. The event is so wrenching that even the creation experiences the pain, as rocks are split, the earth shakes, and the sun darkens. It’s so terrible that the barrier in the Holy of Holies in the Temple is torn in two. It’s so wrenching to the sacred order of the world that tombs open up and the dead walk out.

And, it’s so bad that Jesus – the Son of God and God Incarnate – feels like he’s been abandoned by his Father.

There may be no worse experience than the experience of abandonment. To look around and see that you’re alone. To know that everyone and everything has left you, and turned away from you.

To be forsaken.

Like the words of Lamentations, your teeth grind on gravel and your soul is continually bowed down within you.

Palm Sunday is the day to sit at the base of the cross, in the ashes of something that was once great and is now broken and sing, “Were You There.”

I think we need to hear those cries. We need to feel the ground shake. We need to feel the loss of the Messiah who came in love, and lay his corpse in a cold tomb.

And seal the entrance with a stone.

And turn around. And walk away.

Broken. Forsaken.

And, a few days later, we need to hear the words of John and see the cross as a coronation and enthronement – the fulfillment of God’s acts of love that have unfolded since the morning stars sang together with all the heavenly host.

And…then when the sun rises on the morning of the third day…the first day of the week…we will know that we will never be forsaken.

But, he will be with us always.