If we are being called to account today for an act of kindness shown to a man who was lame and are being asked how he was healed … – Acts 4:10

Today's Scripture Reading (February 29, 2024): Acts 4

If there is a saying that seems to have characterized my life, it might really be that "no good deed ever goes unpunished." I remember working as a parts manager at a Toyota Dealership, and I had ordered the wrong part for a car. It happens occasionally, but the person had brought their vehicle in to have this part placed on their car before anyone realized the error. Eventually, it was the service manager who revealed my mistake. So I reordered the proper part, while the service manager asserted that he would make up some excuse for the delay. But I wanted to follow a different path; unbelievably, I wanted to be truthful, so I told the service manager that I would admit my mistake and assure the customer that the problem could be remedied in the next few days.

I remember the service manager laughing at me, but he acquiesced. I was allowed to handle the situation and told the truth to the customer. What happened next was a moment of humor for everyone in the dealership who happened to be in the area. There was a pause after my confession before the customer called me a liar and stormed out of the dealership. The story's moral might be that we want excuses more than the truth.

Peter gives the lame man what he has, Jesus, and then finds himself standing before the Sanhedrin, the ruling council of Israel. The Sanhedrin had the legal authority to do anything except put a man to death; the death penalty required the participation of Rome.

The Sanhedrin had seventy-one members. The High priest was the ex-officio president. As members, it would have priests (mostly Sadducees who wanted to preserve the status quo so that Rome would not have any reason to come down on them), Scribes (experts in the law), Pharisees (fanatics for the law), and respected men from the community. This meant that the members of the Sanhedrin worked with sometimes competing purposes. The Priests (almost all Sadducees) were sympathizers of Rome. They had reached a level of social and economic advancement they could maintain as long as there was no significant disturbance in Israel. But, Jesus had already become a threat to the status quo, so the idea that Peter and John had given the lame man Jesus was a significant problem. For the Scribes and the Pharisees, the dividing line was over the issues of the law; Peter and John had broken the law repeatedly by performing healing in the name of Jesus, who had been condemned for breaking various laws, including healing on the Sabbath. As a result, in the end, the Sanhedrin would not be favorable to Peter and John.

Peter tries to cut through all of this by returning to the point. From the Sanhedrin's point of view, Peter and James stood before them because they invoked the name of Jesus; Peter reminds them that the truth was that they stood before them because Peter in John had healed a man who couldn't walk; they had exercised a kindness. They had not beaten anyone up; no one had been killed; the disciples hadn't lied or stolen. They weren't guilty of breaking any commandments. All they had done was heal a man who had been unable to walk for his entire life.

But part of the problem was that these two uneducated fishermen were becoming leaders, and the Sanhedrin didn't like where they were leading the people. Michael Breen has a great quote. He says we all look like sheep from the front and shepherds from behind. The Sanhedrin looked at Peter and John, and they looked like sheep, with the expectation that they would follow the leaders: the Priests, Scribes, and Pharisees. However, from behind, they were beginning to look like shepherds and starting to lead people in a direction with which the rulers were uncomfortable.

Tomorrow's Scripture Reading: Acts 5

One day Peter and John were going up to the temple at the time of prayer—at three in the afternoon. – Acts 3:1

Today's Scripture Reading (February 28, 2024): Acts 3

Several years ago, I attended a worship service at a local Hindu Temple. It was a bit of an intimidating experience. I had actually visited the Temple earlier in the week to enquire about the worship experience and whether it would be okay for me to attend a service. I was formally invited, but the person I spoke to stressed that I would be asked to remove my shoes at the entrance. I replied that that was not a problem.

As a result, on a Friday evening, I arrived at the Temple, took off my shoes, and was invited to sit in a chair with the elders of the Temple while the younger men and women gathered on the floor of the Temple; women on one side and men on the other. It was a thought-provoking experience as I watched the worshippers enter the Temple, often bringing their sacrifices of fruits and vegetables and laying them at the front of the Temple area in front of the images of the gods.

At one point, a worship team came and led the worshippers in songs of praise to the various gods. Fire and food were passed around to the worshippers, which included me, and while it was never mentioned, I suspected that the food had been offered as a sacrifice to the gods.

It was an enlightening experience and one that I very much enjoyed. But my purpose for being there was different from anybody else's. Most, almost all, of the gathered, attended the temple and made sacrifices because they believed in the various gods whose images were prominently displayed at the front of the temple. I was an interloper who did not worship the multiple gods of this Temple. I had attended to gain an understanding of the people and the way their beliefs had shaped their worship experience. As a result, our purposes didn't mesh, but my purpose was recognized by one of the Temple worshippers who exclaimed as I left, "Praise the Lord!" But purpose is important. Just because I attended a Hindu Temple did not mean that I was a Hindu worshipper; neither was I ever accepted as one during my visit.

What is significant in this passage is Luke's choice of words. He says that Peter and John were going to the Temple at three in the afternoon, the hour of prayer. What is significant about the phrase is that while three in the afternoon is the hour of prayer, it is also the hour of sacrifice. Three in the afternoon is when the second lamb of the day would be offered to God to atone for the sin of the nation. Peter and John still believed in the God of Israel and that the hour of prayer was essential. But they also believed that the time of sacrifice had ended. Jesus was now the sacrifice that Israel needed. So, while Peter and John still went to the Temple, their purpose had changed. It was no longer about sacrifice but rather about prayer.

Tomorrow's Scripture Reading: Acts 4

Suddenly a sound like the blowing of a violent wind came from heaven and filled the whole house where they were sitting. – Acts 2:2

Today's Scripture Reading (February 27, 2024): Acts 2

William Young, author of "The Shack," recalls a family story. The story predates him; it is the story of his mother, a nursing student in the 1940s. And the story involves the night that a premature baby was born. The baby was just over a pound in weight, and as tough as it is now for a baby who is that premature to live, in the 40s, there was no way that a child like this could live.

On this night, the mother gave birth to a child that no one expected to live. As the Doctor removed the baby (a boy) from the mother, the Doctor quickly handed the child off to a student nurse standing close by with the words, "Dispose of this." An incinerator that was used to eliminate tissue waste was standing close by. The mother would be told that the boy was born, but it was just much too early for the fetus to be viable. And so the fetus is handed off to a student nurse while the Doctor busied himself with mom.

But there was a problem with the baby; it was still alive. One of the last things to develop in a child is the lungs; it is the reason that premature babies have to be kept on ventilators. The lungs don't develop until between the 34^th and the 37^th week. This baby was younger than that. And yet -.

The nurse couldn't bear to throw a living baby into the incinerator, so she sat down with the baby, wrapped it in a towel, and waited for him to die. An hour passed, then two, and then three; the nurse seemed to have been forgotten. Finally, she decided that someone had to be told. She went and found a nurse who contacted the Doctor (by this time, he was resting at home), and the Doctor returned to the hospital and was unhappy. Why couldn't people learn to do what they were told? But now they had a problem. Mother and Father, a pastor and his wife, had already been informed that the baby had died at birth, and there was no doubt that it would die, but the hospital was also now obligated to take care of this young life until he did. The decision was made that they would not tell the parents; they would place the baby into an incubator and wait.

One day passed, then two days, and finally, on the third day of the baby's life, they decided that they needed to tell the parents about their child. He shouldn't be alive, and there was no doubt that he would die in the coming week. If, by some miracle, he survived, he would be developmentally disabled and have a host of other medical problems. But on this day, two parents rejoiced over a son who was alive, even though they thought he had died.

Many years later, the student nurse, now a head nurse, read an obituary. A bishop in the city had died, and he shared the same last name with the pastor whose child she had held for hours years earlier. She found someone who knew the family and started to ask questions. Did they have any children? Just one, a boy. Was the boy okay? Oh yes, he is a weird freak of nature; he graduated from university at fifteen.

He wasn't supposed to live, but he not only lived, he had excelled.

It was the informed opinion that this Christian sect had infected Judea. Those in power had decided that something had to be done. So, they had killed the leader, and now the movement would simply die. It is precisely what a Pharisee and honored teacher named Gamaliel told the Sanhedrin, the ruling body of Israel.

"Men of Israel, consider carefully what you intend to do to these men. Some time ago Theudas appeared, claiming to be somebody, and about four hundred men rallied to him. He was killed, all his followers were dispersed, and it all came to nothing. After him, Judas the Galilean appeared in the days of the census and led a band of people in revolt. He too was killed, and all his followers were scattered. Therefore, in the present case I advise you: Leave these men alone! Let them go! For if their purpose or activity is of human origin, it will fail." (Acts 5:35-38)  

Life was not expected, but it existed anyway. And God was about to move in a way that few understood. In fact, God would move in a way that few really understand today. It is the reason why we get into so much trouble. The Holy Spirit was about to give the church unexpected life and move her in an unanticipated direction. No longer would the religious movement be driven by men of ambition willing to walk over whoever was in their way. It would be a revolution of love.

On this day, as the church was born, nothing was expected. A violent wind from heaven blew through the house. Tongues of fire fell and rested on people. This wasn't normal, and it wasn't expected. Two thousand years later, we are still alive, and that life is still unexpected, yet we keep on going. However, there is some evidence that we need that holy wind to blow once more through our lives and Christ's church.

Tomorrow's Scripture Reading: Acts 3

In my former book, Theophilus, I wrote about all that Jesus began to do and to teach … - Acts 1:1

Today's Scripture Reading (February 26, 2024): Acts 1

A story is told of an old monastery that had fallen upon hard times. Centuries earlier, it had been a thriving monastery where many dedicated monks lived and worked and greatly influenced the realm. But now, only five monks lived there, all over seventy years old. The monastery clearly housed a dying order.

A few miles from the monastery lived an old hermit who many thought was a prophet. One day, as the monks agonized over the impending demise of their order, they decided to visit the hermit to see if he might have some advice for them. Perhaps he could see the future and show them what they could do to save the monastery.

The hermit welcomed the five monks to his hut, but when they explained the purpose of their visit, the hermit could only commiserate with them. "Yes, I understand how it is," said the hermit. "The Spirit has gone out of the people. Hardly anyone cares for the old things anymore."

"Is there anything you can tell us," the abbot inquired of the hermit, "that would help us save the monastery?"

"No, I'm sorry," said the hermit. "I don't know how your monastery can be saved. I can only tell you that one of you is an apostle of God." The monks were both disappointed and confused by the hermit's cryptic statement. They returned to the monastery, wondering what the hermit could have meant by the statement, "One of you is an apostle of God." The monks pondered the significance of the hermit's words for months after their visit.

"One of us is an apostle of God," they mused. "Did he actually mean one of the monks here at the monastery? That's impossible. We are all too old. We are too insignificant. On the other hand, what if it is true? And if it is true, then which one of us is it? Do you suppose he meant the abbot? Yes, if he meant anyone, he probably meant the abbot. He has been our leader for more than a generation. On the other hand, he might have meant Brother Thomas. Certainly, Brother Thomas is a holy man of wisdom and light. He couldn't have meant Brother Elred. Elred gets crotchety at times and is difficult to reason with. On the other hand, he is almost always right. Maybe the hermit did mean Brother Elred. But surely he didn't mean Brother Phillip. Phillip is so passive, so shy, a real nobody. Still, he's always there when you need him. He's loyal and trustworthy; yes, he could have meant Phillip. Of course, the hermit didn't mean me. He couldn't possibly have meant me. I'm just an ordinary person. Yet, suppose he did? Suppose I am an apostle of God? Oh God, not me. I couldn't live up to such a position. Or could I?"

As they contemplated this matter, the old monks began to treat each other with extraordinary respect on the off chance that one of them might be an apostle of God. And on the off, off chance that each monk himself might be the apostle spoken of by the hermit, each monk began to treat himself with extraordinary respect.

Because the monastery was situated in a beautiful forest, many people came to picnic on its tiny lawn, walk on its paths, and occasionally go into the small chapel to meditate. As they did so, even without being conscious of it, they sensed the aura of extraordinary respect that now began to surround the five monks and seemed to radiate out of them, permeating the atmosphere of the place. There was something strangely attractive, even compelling, about it. Hardly knowing why, people came back to the monastery more frequently to picnic, play, and pray. They began to bring their friends to show them this special place. And their friends brought more friends.

As more and more visitors came, some of the younger men started to talk to the old monks. After a while, one asked if he could join them. Then another. And another. Within a few years, the monastery had once again become a thriving order and, thanks to the hermit's gift, a vibrant center of light and spirituality.

Luke had already introduced Theophilus to Jesus and the movement that started during his time on earth. But the story didn't end there. It would continue and spread. Maybe some believed that the movement was about to die, but as Jesus's followers began to treat each other with respect, it could only grow stronger.

Theophilus, here are their stories!

Tomorrow's Scripture Reading: Acts 2

 

When they had finished eating, Jesus said to Simon Peter, "Simon son of John, do you love me more than these?" "Yes, Lord," he said, "you know that I love you." Jesus said, "Feed my lambs." – John 21:15

Today's Scripture Reading (February 25, 2024): John 21

Has anyone ever told you that they have to love you, but they don't have to like you? I have, but I believe that loving someone but not liking them is impossible. It elevates like above love. The command to go and love is the ultimate reaction. If like is the more challenging emotion, then Jesus would have said, "Go and like your neighbor as yourself." It is amusing that the same people who are forced to love me but can choose whether or not they like me are some of the same people who in a romantic relationship who are willing to say I like you but worry about using the word "love" too early in the relationship.

Peter and Jesus go on a walk, and they have a conversation. During this stroll, Jesus asks Peter if he loves him. The word that Jesus uses is "agapao." "Agapao" is used to denote someone that you love dearly. And Peter's reply is, "Yes, Lord, you know that I love you," except he uses the word "phileo," which means to give approval of, to sanction, essentially, to like.

So here is the conversation between Jesus and Peter. "Peter, do you love me dearly?" And Peter responds, "Yes, Jesus, you know that I approve of you, I back what you are doing. You know I like you."

They walk a little further, and Jesus asks the question again. "Peter, do you love me dearly?" And Peter responds, "Yes, Lord. You know that I approve of you. I sanction your works, and I like you.

The two friends walk a little further before Jesus asks Peter one more time, "Do you love me?" Only this time, he doesn't say do you love me dearly, he asks, "Do you approve of me? Do you sanction what I am doing? Peter, do you even like me?"

The words stung Peter. And I think part of the reason this scripture is so important to me is that I can identify with Peter. I mean, hang out with Peter for a minute. Jesus calls him as he is fishing. Jesus comes to the water's edge to teach the people around him. Rabbi Jesus was so close to the water that he asked if maybe Peter would allow him to teach from his boat, a little way from the shore. After the teaching, Jesus told Peter, Andrew, James, and John to row their boats back into the water to catch some fish. They had already been out on the lake, and fishing is always better early in the morning because the fish tend to rise toward the surface of the water. Then, the men had caught nothing. And now, the sun was up, and fish had dropped into the depths long ago. The time for fishing was finished.

But Peter decided that he would humor the rabbi. He took the boats out onto the lake and then dropped the nets into the water. And the nets filled with fish. When Peter returned to the shore to confront Jesus, he declared, "Get away from me. I am not good enough to stand in your presence."

Jesus's reply? "That's too bad because I am calling you to stand with me. Together, we will change the world and make a difference. You know how to catch fish, but I will teach you to be a fisher of men."

Now, as the two men walked along the shore of that same lake in the days after Jesus's crucifixion, Peter's problem was that he knew he hadn't shown up when Jesus needed him most. As a result of his cowardice, Peter didn't feel he deserved Jesus to be there when Peter needed him most. But Jesus had a response to Peter's recognition of the situation. "Peter, I know you didn't show up. I was watching for you. But three years ago, I called to do a task for me. The job isn't finished yet. And I still believe in you. So go and feed my sheep."

Tomorrow's Scripture Reading: Acts 1

Early on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene went to the tomb and saw that the stone had been removed from the entrance. – John 20:1

Today's Scripture Reading (February 24, 2024): John 20

We have met on the first day of the week for almost the Christian Church's entire existence. The day we worship has become less important to some contemporary Christians in recent years, yet even now, more church-going Christians attend a worship gathering on Sunday than on any other day of the week. For some older Christians, not worshipping on Sunday is almost unthinkable. Here, we find a mystery: the Christian Church grew out of Judaism, which honors the Sabbath (Saturday) as the appropriate day for worshipping God. Muddying the issue even further, many Christians sincerely believe that Sunday is the biblical Sabbath. It isn't. Strictly speaking, Sunday is "the Lord's Day," and Saturday is "the Sabbath." All of this leads us to an important question: what happened that would cause a group of Jews to change the day on which they would worship?

The answer isn't hidden or part of a conspiracy theory; Jesus rose from the dead on the first day of the week. If you wonder if there is any proof that Jesus rose from the dead, your starting place for the investigation should begin with the behavioral change among the Apostles, which took place almost immediately after the events of that first Easter. What could cause a group of Jewish men to begin to hold their most sacred religious celebrations on Sunday rather than on Saturday as they had for their entire lives? No, they did not stop going to synagogue on the Sabbath. Still, going to the synagogue became more about trying to reach other Jews with the message of the Messiah than it was about worshipping the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. The act of worship was reserved for Sunday. All because it was on Sunday that Jesus rose from the dead.

Mary and, according to the other Gospels, her friends waited, probably not too patiently, for the Sabbath to pass so they could get to the work of preparing the body of Jesus for burial. It was a task that was Illegal to do on the Sabbath, and so they paused. Early on Sunday morning, the women gathered the spices and supplies they would need to complete the preparation of the body for death. They walked, weighted down by these spices, to where Jesus's body had been left. It was the first day of the Week, Sunday, and although they didn't know it, this Sunday was the very first Lord's Day.

We may not recognize it, but every time we gather on a Sunday for worship, we celebrate the resurrection of Jesus. We are just over a week into Lent's six-week fast, but this fast will only be effective from Monday to Saturday. Why do we not observe the fast on Sundays? As some have suggested, it is not a cheat day, and it is not real Christians who include Sundays in their Lenten ritual. The Lord's Day is always a day of celebration, even during Lent, because every Sunday is Easter, the day that changed the behavior of a group of Jewish men in Judea and one that affects who we are today. We are, and always will be, the children of the resurrection.

Tomorrow's Scripture Reading: John 21

See also Matthew 28:1

But they did not believe the women, because their words seemed to them like nonsense. – Luke 24:11

Today's Scripture Reading (February 23, 2024): Luke 24

One of the things I run into is people who tell me they just can't believe in the Gospel story. And I get that. Sometimes, even I have trouble believing it. If you listen to me pray, count how many times I say, "Lord, I don't understand." Because that is the truth; I don't understand. 

I will even go a step further; I am not sure what I think about you if you believe you have all this stuff figured out. I don't understand why God, who is all-powerful and created everything, would care enough about you and me to send his son to die on the cross. Who gets that? Doesn't that seem like you or me watching an ant walk across the floor and being so worried about the life the ant leads that we are willing to send our child to die on a cross for the ant so that ants can live better lives? I admit that I struggle to get my head around that reality.

Besides that, dead seems to be dead to me. I wish I could tell you that, if it were me, I would have believed the women as they returned from the empty tomb, but that would be a lie. There is no way. I would have probably written it off as a result of the deep grief that all of Jesus's followers were going through.

But this is all part of Luke's telling of the Jesus story. The women had gone to the tomb to prepare the body of Jesus for death, but Jesus wasn't there. The women returned home from Jesus's tomb with a story, and they told that story to the men, including but not limited to the disciples, but the men thought the story was nonsense. The word we have translated here as nonsense means that the story was "idle talk." Greek Medical writers used the term to describe the insane babbling of a fevered person. The men refused to believe the story the women were telling. They were suffering from some sort of grief fever. Eventually, the reality would take over, but for now, all any of them could do was try to comfort each other as they all continued to suffer through their time of mourning.

There is nothing special about unbelief. There is also nothing noble about unbelief. But the problem is that if we don't believe, the dream of Christianity ends. The reality is that our unbelief handicaps God. And if we don't start to believe, we don't have a hope to change this world and make it better.

Tomorrow's Scripture Reading: John 20

Afterward Jesus appeared in a different form to two of them while they were walking in the country. – Mark 16:12

Today's Scripture Reading (February 22, 2024): Mark 16

Have you ever laid on your back looking up at the clouds in the sky on a summer afternoon and watched as dinosaurs or alligators slowly crossed the sky before your eyes? Or looked up into the stars at night to see the constellations seem to dance before you? When I was a kid, I delivered newspapers in the early morning hours, and I spent time looking at the stars above my head as I walked from house to house. My favorite constellation was Orion the Hunter. I often saw him stand just above the horizon with his sword raised above his head and a dagger hanging from his belt as he appeared to watch over my early morning walk.

There is a scientific answer to our pastime of seeing images in the sky. Our brain is actively looking at things and trying to give them meaning. It uses our past to accomplish the task. And so, we see recognizable profiles in what is really just random shapes. But our brains also do something else. They often reveal what we expect to see rather than what is truly there. We see what our brains tell us we should see; we also see with all our prejudices intact shaping our thought process rather than understanding what is actually happening. And as incredible and impossible as that seems, it is one factor that makes eyewitness testimony so unreliable. It all starts with our expectations.

It is also the reason for the similarities and differences in our testimonies regarding the afterlife. I have read many of the books on heaven and hell and, you may not want to hear this, I don't think these individuals have received images from God of either heaven or hell. It seems that the visions these people have received have matched well with the expectations of the one receiving the vision. A friend recommended a book to me, written about a dream that a woman received about hell, and in reading the book, I was reminded of the worst of all the hellfire and brimstone sermons that I had heard in my youth. It was what she expected, and so it is what she saw.

Mark here seems to allude to the story about a couple of disciples on the road to Emmaus that Luke tells in more detail. Maybe one of the most often asked questions about the story is how this pair of disciples did not recognize Jesus as they walked and talked on the road. But Mark offers us an answer: Jesus appeared in "a different form." Essentially, Jesus was disguised, so Cleopas and his friend didn't see their new friend for who he really was.

But there is another possibility. Cleopas and his friend had been in Jerusalem for the Passover. Now, Sunday morning had arrived, all the Sabbath Day travel restrictions had been lifted, and these two people were making their way to Emmaus. As far as they were concerned, Jesus had died on the cross on Friday Afternoon. Peter and the apostles might have had some hard decisions to make, but for those not part of the core group of the apostles, now was time to get out of town.

They weren't expecting to see Jesus, so they didn't see him until that moment in Emmaus when Jesus broke the bread. They saw what they expected to see, or maybe more to the point, they didn't see what they didn't expect to see. But before this day was over, they would receive a gift that they didn't expect to get but greatly needed: the presence of Jesus.

Tomorrow's Scripture Reading: Luke 24

 

He is not here; he has risen, just as he said. Come and see the place where he lay. – Matthew 28:6

Today's Scripture Reading (February 21, 2024): Matthew 28

There are some interesting parallels between the beginning and the end of Jesus's life. For instance, at least two of the three gifts Jesus received from the Magi at his birth seem more appropriate for his burial: myrrh and frankincense. Beyond that, Jesus also began his life in a borrowed stable and ended it in a borrowed tomb.

But another thing is that in the beginning, part of the Christmas story is that Mary and Joseph have to make the trip from Nazareth, a town in Galilee, to Bethlehem, just south of Israel's capital, Jerusalem. Today, that is not a bad trip. You get onto Highway 6 in Nazareth, and Highway 6 runs kind of north-south; it goes out toward the Mediterranean Sea, which is west of Nazareth, but never quite gets there. Highway 6 then turns South. It runs close to Tel Aviv, but again, not quite there. Then, just south of Tel-Aviv, you pick up Highway 1, which turns east and takes you into the Holy City. Once you are in Jerusalem, take Highway 60 and go south for the short trip into Bethlehem, located just inside the boundaries that mark off the Palestinian West Bank. If we were to take the journey today, the 150 km journey should take about two hours. It wasn't quite that easy when Mary and Joseph made the trip two thousand years ago.

Two thousand years ago, Mary and Joseph got up, and Mary got on a Donkey because she was pregnant and about to give birth. I can't imagine what it would have been like to be as pregnant as Mary was and have to make that journey on the back of a donkey. And then, with Mary on top of the donkey and Joseph leading the way, they would make not the two-hour trip to Jerusalem but the multi-day trip to Bethlehem. When they finally got to Bethlehem, they went to the inn and found no room. And Mary looked at Joseph and said, "you should have called and made a reservation!" Okay, Joseph, you should have invented the telephone and then called and made a reservation.

Mary Magdalene gets to the tomb, which should have contained a body, and finds it empty. I can't imagine that moment. Mary, go and tell the disciples because this changes everything. There might not have been room at the inn when Jesus was born, but there is room in his tomb because Jesus isn't here. He has risen, just as he said.   

Mary heard the words, and I am sure her mind is reeling with everything she has seen and heard over the past month. It all started with Lazarus being raised from the dead. Then Jesus said, "In my house there are many rooms and I am going to prepare a place for you," and now, "Go and tell the disciples." All of a sudden, death isn't the forever stopping point. It is a pause on another journey. And at the end of everything, there will be room in the tomb because none of us will be staying there.

Jesus entered this world where there was no room, but now he proclaims that there is room because the nature of death has been changed. And the first person to hear this message is not Peter, James, John, or any other disciples. It is not the religious elite of the world. It is Mary Magdalene and Mary, the mother of James the Younger. These women, who in Jesus's day didn't even count, were the only witnesses to something that changed history: a reordering of what we mean when talking about life and death.    

Tomorrow's Scripture Reading: Mark 16

Later, knowing that everything had now been finished, and so that Scripture would be fulfilled, Jesus said, "I am thirsty." – John 19:28

Today's Scripture Reading (February 20, 2024): John 19

I thirst. How do you respond to Jesus as he speaks these words from the cross?owh It is such a simple comment. It is a comment that might be expected from someone who is nailed to a piece of wood and placed out in the hot sun with blood and fluids flowing from their open wounds.

Yet, this is Jesus. And when he speaks the words, we hear and see other images. Do You remember the day that Jesus met that woman at the well? On that day, Jesus did what was just not done. Jesus was a Jewish Rabbi whom Priests, Prophets, and Pharisees came to hear. He was the one prominent people would meet in the dead of night because, while they may have feared for their positions, they needed to hear more from this Rabbi. On this day, Jesus stopped beside a well and spoke to a Samaritan woman, something that even His disciples wouldn't have done. But Jesus did; Jesus, a man and Jewish Rabbi, talked to this unnamed Samaritan woman. And if that wasn't enough, He spoke to a Samaritan woman who was so low of stature that even other Samaritan women would not have talked to her.

Do You remember? She came to the well in the heat of midday. No one else was stupid enough to come out at that time of the day. But then, that was precisely why she was there; because no one else was. At noon, in the heat of the day, she didn't have to face the glares of disapproval or the condescending looks that others would have given her.

She was pretty surprised to see Jesus there. I think we all are when Jesus shows up and confronts us as we try to make our way through our daily lives. No one would have blamed Jesus for not stopping or talking to this one. That was the expected reaction.

This woman wasn't trying to get ahead; she was just trying to survive. And there He was, sitting at the well. His disciples had gone on to do some errands for him. And so, both this Samaritan woman and the Jewish Rabbi were alone. It is at that moment that Jesus decided to do the unthinkable. He spoke to this woman.

His words that day were very similar. I thirst. Will you give me a drink? She was confused. People didn't speak to her, and certainly Jews didn't talk to her, and definitely not Jewish men. For a Jewish Rabbi to speak to her was almost more than she could understand. But Jesus did. And this woman responded out of her years of hurt and pain: How can you ask me for a drink?

And Jesus said to her, if you knew who it was you were talking to you, you would ask me for a drink. Whoever drinks this water will thirst again, but whoever drinks the living water I give him will never thirst again. As Jesus spoke, he revealed both who he was and who she was. The Bible says she went away saying, come and meet someone who knows everything about me.

On that day, many Samaritans started a life of faith in Jesus Christ, the Messiah, on that woman's testimony. All because of a conversation between a Jewish Rabbi and a Samaritan woman that began with the words "I thirst."

Tomorrow's Scripture Reading: Matthew 28

"What is truth?" retorted Pilate. – John 18:38a

Today's Scripture Reading (February 19, 2024): John 18

I admit Pilate's question haunts me. What is truth? But more than that, how or where can I find it or understand it? Are all truths equal? These are a few of the questions surrounding the concept of truth. Can I suggest in this place that there are levels to truth? And we need to embrace all of it.

Is truth some unchanging law? Yes, that is the Jesus part of it.  Honestly, I think the church slips up here.  Truth is truth.  I can't change that Jesus is King, that sin is sin, that Heaven and Hell both really exist, that we are more than the sum of our parts, and our lives have eternal consequences.  All these things exist at what I call the Jesus-level of truth. But sometimes, I also admit that we don't understand all of this truth. As a result, sometimes it might seem that the truth changes not because there is any change at this Jesus level of truth but because our understanding of truth changes.

But there is a second level, and that is cultural truth.  Cultural truth does change. And cultural truth is something we battle as we minister to the various cultures surrounding us in our society.  We have noticed it in our churches.  In this era of preaching Jesus, we must relate to the prevailing cultural truth. 

One example comes to us from the mission field. A church that I am aware of is attempting to minister in India.  This church became aware that many homeless families were in the area where they were ministering. So, they thought that they should build some homes for them.  In planning to build these homes, they met with a local doctor who had dedicated her life to working among the lepers in India, and they said they were wondering if it would be a good idea to build houses for these people. Asking the question before proceeding with a project is always a good idea.  

The doctor said, "Well, that will be interesting," and rolled her eyes. The team caught the rolling of the doctor's eyes. So, one of the team members asked, "Is this not a good idea?"

The doctor replied, "Let me tell you a story about ten houses. Another American ministry team had a similar idea and came and built ten houses.  After the project was completed, they gave the houses to some homeless families.  Everyone was excited and celebrated the generosity of this American Church.  The Mission team went home feeling good about their accomplishments, and the celebration continued at home.  But the team had missed a couple of critical points.  The first was that the town where they had built the houses placed an extraordinarily high value on hospitality.  What that meant was that they celebrated any gift that was given to them, even if it was the most stupid gift ever. 

The second truth these missionaries missed was that it was a Hindu village, and the local God was believed to curse any house whose windows didn't face in a particular direction.  The result was that none of the ten houses had ever been lived in because the local people experiencing homelessness gladly chose being homeless over being cursed.  The team had missed a cultural truth, which hurt their ability to share the eternal truth they had come to give to the local population.  

Paul understood this at Mars Hill.  Even though he thought the effort and work that went into the graven images were nonsense, he praised them for it (Paul celebrated the cultural truth) so that he could tell them about the identity of the unknown God they celebrated (giving them the unchanging Jesus truth).

A third level of truth is physical truth.  Missionaries learn to speak the language of the people they are trying to reach.  They pour themselves into the gestures and the dress.

Baptist missionary Hudson Taylor made a huge deal over what his ministry partners should wear. He insisted that his ministry teams dress like the local people. Some didn't want to dress that way; they preferred to wear suits and ties and bring culture into China, but Taylor knew their dress could be a barrier. 

The late Pastor, Dr. Mark Beeson, tells the story of ministering at a camp.  Every year, Beeson ministered at this camp, and every year, he took one night and blessed the leaders. Beeson brought them up onto the platform with the worship team playing loud music, placed a hand on them, brought them close, and whispered words of affirmation, encouragement, and blessing into their right ear. And then he prayed for them. One year, one of the leaders who had been there during previous years asked if he could speak to Dr. Beeson. Mark met with this volunteer, and this leader said, you know how on Thursday night during the service, you bring us up, lay hands on us, and speak to us?  Mark replied yes.  This young leader looked at Mark and said, "Is there any way you could speak to my left ear because I'm deaf in my right ear, and I have never gotten to hear what it is that you say over me."

Thursday night came, and Mark started to move down the line, speaking into the right ears of the leaders.  But then he got to this young man, reversed himself, and spoke to his left.  He affirmed him, encouraged him, and blessed him. And at the end, he looked into this young man's eyes, brimming with tears, and said, "Did you hear me?" And the leader nodded, and Mark hugged before he moved on.

We need to understand all three levels of truth if our message is going to be heard by those around us. Some of it is unchanging, and some of it is not. But all truth is essential. And that is something that I think even Pilate understood.

Tomorrow's Scripture Reading: John 19

Jesus called out with a loud voice, "Father, into your hands I commit my spirit." When he had said this, he breathed his last. – Luke 23:46

Today's Scripture Reading (February 18, 2024): Luke 23

"Into your hands, I commit my spirit." It is a simple phrase, but Jesus knew that it was at this point that what was God in the Father flowed through what was God in him. It was something that Jesus had known throughout his ministry. And this wasn't the first time he had said something like this during his ministry.

During the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus included some time teaching about prayer. He said that we shouldn't pray as the hypocrites do because they do it all for show, praying wordy, complex prayers in the hope that they will gain the attention of the gods. But Jesus instructed his followers to pray simply. 

Our Father in heaven,
hallowed be your name,
your kingdom come,
your will be done,
 on earth as it is in heaven (Matt 6:9-10 [NIV])

Your kingdom come, Your will be done. We are to pray that we are willing to commit what God has placed in us to his purpose. It isn't far from "Into Your hands I commit my spirit." Jesus didn't say it just because it sounds good. He knew that the power behind the Christian life was found in that simple act of placing what is eternal in us, our spirit or our soul, into the hands of God.

Jesus did it again in the Garden: "My Father, if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me. Yet not as I will, but as you will" (Matthew 26:39). This is not about me, God. It is about you. Into your hands, I commit what is essentially me.

Over and over in scripture, we are instructed to reach out to God through faith. In response, he reaches back and touches that God place inside us. And his power flows through us. We don't always understand God's purpose, but his purpose is always there.

And now, as Jesus came to the end of his life, he speaks the words he had spoken all his life. Father, I commit my Spirit into your hands, let your will be done, and may your kingdom become a reality down here, even on a crude Roman cross.

God touched what was divine in Jesus, who was fully God, and by the time the ladies came on Sunday Morning, he was no longer there. He had risen just as he said. The Danish Philosopher Soren Kierkegaard stated, "Life can be understood backwards, but it has to be lived forwards." Blessed are they who "live life forwards," believing that God will be all He has said He will be. And in him, we can commit our lives and our spirits.

Tomorrow's Scripture Reading: John 18

A man called Barabbas was in prison with the insurrectionists who had committed murder in the uprising. – Mark 15:9

Today's Scripture Reading (February 17, 2024): Mark 15

What's in a name? That which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet (William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet).

William Shakespeare placed these iconic words in the mouth of his tragic heroine, Juliet, in his play "Romeo and Juliet." The words have gone beyond the play to the point that even those who have never seen or read "Romeo and Juliet" have heard the words, although they may not know from where they first came. Shakespeare seems to be alluding to something that we know all too well. The name doesn't matter. All that matters is the essential character of the one whose name we are calling. And sometimes, people live up to their names, but often they don't. However, sometimes, people can even restore honor to a name that has been dragged through the dirt.

We know this, yet sometimes we expect the name to mean something. I visited a friend in another city a few years ago, and we decided to go to a local music store. While there, I was looking at a new keyboard and gave my business card to the salesperson dealing with us. She noticed my name and asked, "Are you an Eastern Mullen or a Western Mullen?" I told her I was a transplanted Eastern Mullen (we were in a Western city), and while my closest relatives live in the central portion of the nation, my roots are from the Atlantic States and Provinces in both the United States and Canada. She nodded and added that she was also an Eastern Mullen, and then she added another question, "Are your relatives all drunks, too?" For her, the name carried an expectation of uncontrolled alcohol consumption, maybe stereotypical of our Irish roots. But in this conversation, the name meant something specific.

Matthew reproduces this story from Mark, but he makes a point of giving us the full name of the man that most of us in the church know simply as Barabbas, and according to Matthew, the full name of this insurrectionist is Jesus Barabbas. Church historian Origen was so insulted that anyone with Barabbas' pedigree could share a name with the Messiah that he removed the name from any of the texts he had control over. Origen was convinced that the name was slipped into the text by scribes bent on destroying the Christian faith. Maybe Mark felt the same, so he called the criminal Barabbas. But the evidence that we have leads us to the conclusion that Matthew was right; the name of the man who was sentenced to death and then released in the place of Jesus Christ really was Jesus Barabbas.

This is where the story begins to get really weird. Not only did Jesus bar Joseph, who is called the Messiah, and Jesus Barabbas share a first name, but they also shared another designation. Barabbas literally means "bar" – son, combined with "abba" - of the father. The question that Pilate asks the crowd is, which "Jesus, Son of the Father" do you want to be freed? Barabbas was likely a revolutionary, likely on behalf of the Zealots, to overthrow Rome. And Jesus the Messiah was working towards a spiritual overthrow of Satan. But both claimed to be the son of the father.

The question still hasn't changed. After which Jesus are you chasing?  

Tomorrow's Scripture Reading: Luke 23