When Moses approached the camp and saw the calf and the dancing, his anger burned and he threw the tablets out of his hands, breaking them to pieces at the foot of the mountain. – Exodus 32:19

Today’s Scripture Reading (September 11, 2018): Exodus 32

The date September 11 has become filled with meaning. As I write this, I am seventeen years separated from the events of that Tuesday morning, September 11, 2001. I still remember the events. I remember watching the television and trying to figure out the meaning behind that first plane’s collision with the World Trade Center when the second plane collided with the second tower. For me, that was the moment that I realized that something significant was taking place. I also remember the empty skies that followed that day, probably the only moment in my life in which there was nothing in the air above my head except wildlife. I think it is very fair to say that on that day everything changed.

And one thing that changed drastically after the attacks was our concept of war. Up until that moment, war something that was fought, for those of us in North America almost always someplace else, between two belligerent forces. And usually, these forces wore uniforms which identified them. Now, the soldiers looked much like everyone else, and those on the receiving end of the attack were not involved in any kind of military action. The change has continued. Terror came home, and terrorists now could surround us. Seventeen years after September 11, 2001, we still feel the effects. Even I, who work hard not to see others with prejudiced eyes, have to admit that sometimes I look at a person and wonder if there is terror in their hearts. Before the events of September 11, 2001, the enemy was other, outside, and identifiable. After the September 11 attacks, the enemy was suddenly within, and maybe even the person next door.

As I read this passage, I understand Moses’s anger and severe disappointment. Up until this time, Israel’s enemy was Egypt. The potential enemies were the nations that surrounded Canaan and might not receive this band of slaves willingly, and of course the inhabitants of Canaan itself. The land might have been promised to Abraham, Abraham had never fully conquered the land. At the time, his family was simply too small. Now the family was much larger and returning to the land of Abraham. They were going to go to Canaan and make themselves a home by occupying the land – all the land.

But as Moses emerged off of the mountain, all of that changed. This was his September 11. As he watched the singing and dancing around the Golden Calf, an act that was encouraged by leaders that Moses trusted, suddenly the enemy was within Israel. The building of the Calf was a terrorist attack that destroyed the trust of a nation in the God and the leader that had led them out of slavery. And the attack came from within.

We will face opposition in our lives, but the most damaging opposition that we face is the opposition that originates from inside us because it threatens all the good that we might be able to accomplish. It tears us away from trust in God, which can only destroy our lives.

Tomorrow’s Scripture Reading: Exodus 33

It will be a sign between me and the Israelites forever, for in six days the LORD made the heavens and the earth, and on the seventh day he rested and was refreshed.’” – Exodus 31:17

Today’s Scripture Reading (September 10, 2018): Exodus 31

Saint Teresa of Avila once commented that “Love turns work into rest.” Teresa was a pioneer of the contemplative movement, a believer in “mental prayer” and a nun who believed that prayer and contemplation was the prime task of the Christian. But maybe what Teresa highlights in her comment is the difference in our definitions of work and rest. If Teresa’s prime work was prayer, then it is easy to see why she would think that love could turn work into rest. It is impossible for me to love and not be involved in lifting those that I love up to God in prayer. What sometimes confuses the issue is that the fourth commandment directs us to observe a Sabbath rest. If my prime work is prayer or leading a contemplative life, does that apply? Is there only one definition of rest?

I grew up in a culture where rest meant to enter into some form of contemplative activity. As a child, and long after I had entered school and had given up my daily nap, Sunday was still a day where the nap was enforced, something that never went over well with me. And in practice, when I was young, rest was always interpreted as the absence of anything physical. Playing quietly was allowable. Sitting around and talking with adults was acceptable. But anything that might cause your heart to speed up was banned. And don’t even ask if we can get an impromptu football game going on the field across from the church. These activities were banned because it was the Sabbath, or rather the Christian alternative, the Lord’s Day.

But maybe a question that exists beneath the surface is this: What does it mean when the Bible says that God rested? Did God enter into an “activityless” state, or was it something else meant by these words? And how long did that rest last? It is hard for me to accept that God entered a state of a lack of action as he rested. What does seem to be logical is that God ceased from his creative duties, and became the sustainer of all that he had created. God never became silent, but he did change his focus.

If this is true, then maybe our idea of rest is wrong. There is no doubt that the observance of a Sabbath rest allows us to attend worship and, even for just a moment, remove our focus from the day to day things that we do on this earth and consider the majesty of the One who created us. But if we are to follow the example of God, then maybe our Sabbath rest is simply doing anything that we do not normally get to do. And it might be that Sabbath looks very different for various people. For some, sitting and reading a book and entering into contemplation is a proper Sabbath activity. For others, it might be playing football, or even chopping some wood. Whatever it is, celebrate the Sabbath doing something that refreshes you, and is different from what you would normally do.

Tomorrow’s Scripture Reading: Exodus 32

The rich are not to give more than a half shekel and the poor are not to give less when you make the offering to the LORD to atone for your lives. – Exodus 30:15

Today’s Scripture Reading (September 9, 2018): Exodus 30

On October 2, 1187, Jerusalem fell to Saladin and his Muslim forces. The incident would become the reason that Pope Gregory VIII would use to sign a papal bull that would make possible the Third Crusade; the Crusade most widely known in my culture because it formed the background for the Legend of Robin Hood. According to the legend, Robin Hood fought the forces of evil in England while the good king, Richard the Lionhearted, was away fighting in the Crusade.

Saladin had originally wanted to take the city without a fight. But the dream proved impossible. Instead, there was a battle, and a short siege until, finally, the city surrendered. Saladin offered to allow all of the inhabitants of the city to leave as long as they could pay a ransom for their lives. That ransom was the equivalent of about fifty dollars for each life, a low amount compared to what he could have been demanded. Saladin did not demand more from the rich than from the poor; everyone would pay the same amount. In the end, people gathered money for the really poor who could not pay the price. But Saladin, against the voices of his advisors, also decided that he would let everyone leave the city, no matter whether or not they could pay the ransom.

God asks for a ransom from his people. This is not a tithe of which more is asked of the rich than the poor. It is a ransom or an atonement price. God had delivered his people. And each of them would pay the same price. We have no idea if the half-shekel tax was every fully enforced or what the officials would do with the very poor who could not even pay that price, but there is a principle in this command that we sometimes miss. Every life is valuable to God. And every life possesses the same value in the eyes of God. He does not value one life more than another. Your life is valued the same as mine. (I know that must be disappointing because you were sure that yours was the more valuable.) Every life matters.

It is not just that every life has value in the eyes of God. It is that every life possesses the same value. Black lives are worth the identical amount as white lives. Men and women are worth the same price. The CEO of a large corporation is worth the same amount as a laborer on the bottom rung of the company. The president of the United States, the Prime Minister of Canada, and the President of Montenegro are all worth the same amount in the eyes of God.

And by instructing Moses and the leader of Israel to collect the tax, the message is clear; we are to see the value in each other as God views us. We are equal, and none are more valuable than anyone else.

Tomorrow’s Scripture Reading: Exodus 31

Take some of the bull’s blood and put it on the horns of the altar with your finger, and pour out the rest of it at the base of the altar. Then take all the fat on the internal organs, the long lobe of the liver, and both kidneys with the fat on them, and burn them on the altar. But burn the bull’s flesh and its hide and its intestines outside the camp. It is a sin offering. – Exodus 29:12-14

Today’s Scripture Reading (September 8, 2018): Exodus 29

Salvadore Dali commented that we need to “Have no fear of perfection - you'll never reach it.” Dali is right; perfection is beyond our feeble grasp. And while Dali admonishes that we need to have no fear of perfection, we also do not need to fear failure because failure is our constant companion. And not just ours, but it is the companion of every person who walks the earth. Maybe we need to celebrate our failures instead of mourning them because, if we are honest, every failure helps to shape the people we are to become. Often the biggest problem that we have as humans is that we do not fail enough. And because of our lack of failure, we never develop into the kind of people that we could have become.

However, there is a caveat in this endorsement of failure in our lives. And the caveat is this; while performance failure is inevitable and strengthening, moral failure does not hold the same redeeming qualities. Moral failure is a rejection of the things that we ought to know, and it often involves the destruction of the people around us. Moral failure has the potential to tear away at our social fabric, and it isolates us like no other personal action can do.

Not that we do not all fail morally. All of us make decisions even though we know that the decision is morally wrong. We do it because we place our needs above the needs of others, and sometimes because, in pride, we believe that we know what to do better than God. Sometimes we do wrong for no other reason than that our wants command us more than our knowledge of what is right and wrong.

Here God describes the death of an animal on the altar, this place of killing. He calls the death a “sin-offering.” Not that the animal has sinned, because it hasn’t. The animal is perfect. It is our sin that has caused the death of the animal. It is our decision to give in to our selfish wants that has demanded a blood sacrifice. This is not a positive failure, where we fail and find ways to do it right. This is the result of a selfish failure that says what I want is more important than the demands of the community or God. I love the way that David Guzik describes this moment. “The sin offering said, ‘We have failed to give our best to God. This animal now gives its best to atone for our failure, and we decide to live now giving our best, even as this animal who dies in our place.’”

Paul says that the wages of sin are death. It always has been that way. But in the face of the death that results from our moral failure, we can step forward and, with the strength of God, decide to make a change. We can learn to resist our selfish impulses, and in that resistance allow the desire of God to flow through our lives. We probably can’t do it perfectly, but we can do better.

Tomorrow’s Scripture Reading: Exodus 30

Make sacred garments for your brother Aaron to give him dignity and honor. – Exodus 28:2

Today’s Scripture Reading (September 7, 2018): Exodus 28

The phrase “Man of the Cloth” was originally applied to anyone who wore any kind of a uniform in the performance of their duty. A baker, with the traditional white shirt and pants, wore the “baker’s cloth.” In any profession where a distinct uniform was worn, the wearers were men of the cloth. (And, yes, it is an ancient tradition, so it was a male-dominated term.) But by the seventeenth century, for a reason that remains unclear to me, the term narrowed significantly to include only members of the clergy – the priest and pastors of our world.

In our century, we continue to be men, and women, of the cloth, although admittedly many of us no longer wear any kind of specific uniform. I do not wear either a clerical collar or any kind of a robe in the performance of my duties, although I do have friends that do wear one or the other. However, fashion has also never been one of my strengths. I like what makes me feel comfortable, and left to my own devices, seldom even consider which colors might look good on me, or what colors go together. On a list of fashion hits and misses, I would most likely be on the side of the misses. By the way, I also don’t pay attention to what you might be wearing. If you always wear jeans and then appear in a suit or a nice dress, I might notice, but beyond that my noticing, or caring, about what you are wearing is not very likely.

I am also aware that sometimes what we wear can create distance. And in the performance of my task, distance is something that I usually want to avoid. But then I also know that times have changed.

God instructs Moses to have a garment made for Aaron that would set him apart from the people, something that would command respect and give him dignity. It was likely an elaborate robe that could be worn by anyone, regardless of size or body style. Some have even argued that this robe was passed down through the generations and was worn by many different priests.

In a list of prescriptive passages (commands of God that we are to follow) and descriptive passages (descriptions of what happened), I would list this passage as being descriptive. The problem is that the manner of dress at one point did give dignity. But abuse of the clerical position has caused many to look upon the dress of the priest or the pastor with suspicion. We no longer see the dignity, but rather the failure of the institution, in the cloth of the profession.

And so we dress and hopefully act, differently. We know that we need to earn the dignity that at one point was granted because of our position. We are still men and women of the cloth, but the dignity of the cloth is ragged and torn. And it is up to us who are clergy to begin the mending and healing process. I hope that one day we will earn your respect once again. But for now, I hope that you can see through “the cloth” to the men and women who try to serve God to the best of their ability. And that it is our efforts in the service of God that allow us the dignity to stand before you.

Tomorrow’s Scripture Reading: Exodus 29

The north side shall also be a hundred cubits long and is to have curtains, with twenty posts and twenty bronze bases and with silver hooks and bands on the posts. – Exodus 27:11

Today’s Scripture Reading (September 6, 2018): Exodus 27

There is a stretch of highway near where I live that has a different kind of streetlights. The string of lights doesn’t last long, but for a short distance, the top of the lights are polished and silver in color. And as I drive the highway during the day, it always amazes me the way that the lights shine – even though the “lights” are off. In fact, to look at the lights can almost be a blinding experience during the daylight hours. The sun reflects strongly off of the polished surfaces.

It is these lights that I think of as I read this passage. The posts around the courtyard of the tabernacle were to be built with silver tops. I can only imagine what those silver tops would have looked like under the hot desert sun. The courtyard of the tabernacle, surrounded by these posts with polished silver on the top, must have shone out in all directions to anyone who would have dared to look in the direction of the Tabernacle. If you were in the area, you probably couldn’t miss where the tabernacle was standing.

But the silver was just on the top. The base of these pillars was to be made of bronze. Bronze could only be made through a refining process. The silver would shine, but it was the refined bronze, which had passed through the refining fires, that would provide the strength. Because of this fire, bronze is often associated with judgment.

While all of this is descriptive of the pillars around the courtyard, it is also descriptive of us. I am convinced that we are created to shine. When people look at the Christian Church, the last thing that they should see is a bunch of cranky, judgmental people always looking to rain on someone else’s parade. We are created to shine. We should love freely. People should look at us with an attitude that says “I have no idea what they have been drinking, but I want some.” Christians should shine.

But, that shining only happens because the core of who we are has passed through the fire. This is judgment, but not the judgment that we often think of when we hear the term. This is not the sheep and the goat's judgment; it is not a judgment that decides who gets to go to heaven and who is consigned to hell. This is a judgment of discernment. We have passed through the fire, and we have separated the important from the unimportant, or as another passage says, we have separated the wheat from the chaff (See Matthew 3:12 and Luke 3:17). We know what is important, and have placed that at the center of our lives. All else has been discarded through this fire and this judgment.

So all of this leaves us with one thought, what is it that we have kept from all that has been discarded. What is it that has not been burned in the fire. For me, the answer to that question is fairly easy. It is love that remains and love that allows us to shine like a fire among the nations. We should possess a love that is unconditional and extended to anyone who dares to enter into our midst. After all;

God is love. Whoever lives in love lives in God, and God in them. This is how love is made complete among us so that we will have confidence on the day of judgment: In this world we are like Jesus. There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love (1 John 4:16b-18 NIV).

So go and shine in the world. Go and be Jesus in your world. Because the core of who you are has passed through the fire, and all that has been left by that process is love.

Tomorrow’s Scripture Reading: Exodus 28

Then make fifty gold clasps and use them to fasten the curtains together so that the tabernacle is a unit. – Exodus 26:6

Today’s Scripture Reading (September 5, 2018): Exodus 26

Mahatma Gandhi commented that “Our ability to reach unity in diversity will be the beauty and the test of our civilization.” The words were never so appropriate than now. Societies argument is that we need to become like each other. It has been put forward that reading and writing in English should be part of the immigration procedure in the United States and Canada. That customs of other nations need to be discarded whenever you move into the New World. We don’t want police officers in turbans or members of the military who worship Allah. Race divisions still haunt our social interactions. The dominant majority, or more likely the vocal minority, seem to want us all to look and act the same. No diversity. Just us. And if you do not look like us, don’t worry; when we are done with you, you will.

And yet philosophers through the ages echo the opinion of Gandhi; there is beauty and strength in our diversity. In North America, originally Canada and the United States took two very different approaches to diversity. In the United States, there predominate method of integration was that of the “melting pot” resulting in the argument that that said that we would take all cultures and melt them into one. In the end, we will all look alike. Canada, on the other hand, was originally designed to be a “mosaic;” a nation that welcomed diversity and mended that diversity into the fabric of the country. If there is a place on earth that should welcome police officers in turbans, it should be Canada.

But that is not true. Canadians are highly influenced by the southern neighbors. The culture of the United States is invited into Canadian homes in the form of Television shows, movies, music, and even the news. And so it is probably not surprising that Canada has begun to leave its original idea of a cultural “mosaic” so that it can adopt the “melting pot” of the United States.

But even the Bible seems to argue for the Mosaic. And it is illustrated in the building of the Tabernacle. According to God’s instructions, the walls of the Tabernacle were not to be made of one piece of cloth, but rather of many pieces linked together with gold clasps. Each piece of cloth was to be individually crafted. No two would look alike. And yet, in the end, this diversity would be joined together to make one Tabernacle. Out diversity would come unity, beauty, and strength.

Paul continues the illustration in his letter to the Romans.

For by the grace given me I say to every one of you: Do not think of yourself more highly than you ought, but rather think of yourself with sober judgment, in accordance with the faith God has distributed to each of you. For just as each of us has one body with many members, and these members do not all have the same function, so in Christ we, though many, form one body, and each member belongs to all the others (Romans 12:3-5).  

The beauty of the Tabernacle and the church is its diversity. Hiding in echo chambers where we are never challenged with different ideas only means that we grow weak. In diversity, we are made strong.

Tomorrow’s Scripture Reading: Exodus 27