When the chief priests had met with the elders and devised a plan, they gave the soldiers a large sum of money, telling them, “You are to say, ‘His disciples came during the night and stole him away while we were asleep.’ – Matthew 28:12-13

Today’s Scripture Reading (November 30, 2017): Matthew 28

Benjamin Franklin once remarked that “He that is good for making excuses is seldom good for anything else.” If that is where you want to place your energies, then it is doubtful that you will find any real answers. Excuses are a defense mechanism that says to the world “I don’t want to find answers, and I don’t want to change. This is my lot, and though it is not much, I have no desire to try to find my way out of it.” Excuses spread like wildfire. Once they are made, then there are always more to come. Excuses are like eating your favorite comfort food, once you start eating, it is hard to stop. (Now, where is that bags of chips?)

The reaction of the chief priests reveals the darkness of this moment in history. Something has happened. They can’t explain the missing body, but they also do not want to give in to the thought that maybe Jesus was exactly who he said he was. And so they have to develop a response, or more literally an excuse, for why there is no body in the tomb of Jesus of Nazareth. And so their plan is that they will bribe the guards to say that they fell asleep at their post and give them enough money to carry that secret to their graves. But the extent of their desperation is revealed in the story that they choose to tell. It is a story that is still told as an explanation for the empty tomb, but the story simply does not hold up under examination. The truth is that the story only works if we refuse to think it through.

Here is what it takes to believe the story. First, we have to believe that the soldiers were all asleep. Every single last one of them. This in spite of the fact that sleeping on duty was punishable by death according to Roman law. And here is the reason why the guards were offered a large sum of money. By agreeing to this, they were possibly taking their own lives in their hands. Retribution might not come soon, but the leaders who were bribing them would not be in positions of power forever, and when the time of a change in authority came, someone might decide that they did not want sleeping guards on the payroll. A literal translation indicates “sufficient money.” Considering the lie, sufficient would have been a lot.

Second, we have to accept that the soldiers slept so soundly that the noise of the disciples gathering around them and trying to remove a massive stone from the mouth of a tomb, did not wake them up. The reality is that if the soldiers were actually asleep, the safest action for the thieves at the tomb would have been to kill them while they slept. Maybe then the plan to steal the body might have worked. But the guards were not only still alive; they were unharmed. They had merely slept through all of the commotion.

And maybe even more surprising, despite this unnaturally sound sleep, the soldiers knew who had stolen the body. They accused the disciples of the deed. For this to be true the guards would have had to wake up in the final moments of the crime, and yet they gave no pursuit and sounded no alarm. No one knew that the body was missing until the next morning. The guards simply let the thieves go. What may be most miraculous about the story is that there was an amount of money in exchange for which the guards would agree to tell it. The story leaves the guards guilty at every stage.

But the excuse was necessary to avoid accepting what those in power had to be starting to understand; that this Jesus really was who he said he was, the Christ, sent down by God from heaven.

Tomorrow’s Scripture Reading: Mark 16

Then Pilate took Jesus and had him flogged. – John 19:1

Today’s Scripture Reading (November 29, 2017): John 19

The television series M*A*S*H was never afraid to take on tough issues. In one episode, Colonel Sherman Potter is worried that he is getting too old to do the surgery, just as the M*A*S*H gets a fresh batch of wounded that have been hit with white phosphorus rounds. The episode simultaneously took on our fear of aging and combined it with what seems to be our increasing ability to cause bodily harm. The ugliness of white phosphorus rounds was that the bullet hitting the body was only the beginning of the destruction. Because of the white phosphorus, the bullets, once lodged in the body, would begin to burn away the affected tissue. And if it was exposed to air in a place like an operating room, it could also burst into flame. All of this was just too much for an old country doctor who wanted to nothing more than to care for his neighbors, go fishing, and didn’t care if he was paid in chickens.

Our ability to cause harm has never been a question. We seem to be good at learning new ways to kill people, or just to inflict bodily harm. In ancient times, often the goal was not only the death of the person who had received a death sentence, but they wanted to maximize the pain experienced on the way to death. The Assyrians experimented with ways to remove the skin of the victim while also keeping them alive and suffering for the maximum time possible. Crucifixion was another method of execution which allowed for the person to suffer much on their way to death. A good crucifixion could take days to accomplish its intended purpose, killing the victim. And while the person died, they would endure much suffering.

The word flogged in this passage might be better translated as scourged. This was not a flogging such as was experienced by slaves at the hand of their masters trying to discipline them. In those cases, the master did not want to cause permanent harm to the one he was beating. The slave was valuable, and injury would not advance the cause of the master. But in the case of scourging, harm was partially the point. A scourging involved beating the victim with strips of leather that were embedded with glass and metal that tore away at the flesh, often ripping chunks off of the one being scourged. The scourging scene in the movie “The Passion of the Christ” has been criticized as being unrealistically violent, but the truth is that it probably didn’t go far enough. It is hard to reproduce the kind of violence that the Romans inflicted on their victims in their scourgings.

Most victims probably passed out during the beating; the pain was simply too much. Some victims died in the midst of their scourging. Many others were driven insane by the experience. And while some died during the beatings, death was not the primary outcome. Pain was. Often a scourging was a substitute for a crucifixion. The idea was that pain could be visited on the victim’s while not taking the life itself.

Pilate has found Jesus innocent. But he is a political man, and he knows that releasing Jesus would be a political mistake. And so Pilate hatches a plan. Maybe Jesus could be scourged as a substitute for crucifixion; then the violent appetites of the crowd might be satisfied without Pilate feeling that he had the blood of a prophet on his hands. It is a hope, although as it turns out, a false one. Jesus is scourged, and then he is crucified. And Pilate is remembered as the one who turned Jesus over to the wishes of the crowd.

Tomorrow’s Scripture Reading: Matthew 28

Simon Peter and another disciple were following Jesus. Because this disciple was known to the high priest, he went with Jesus into the high priest’s courtyard … - John 18:15

Today’s Scripture Reading (November 28, 2017): John 18

Sometimes we are defined by one moment in our lives. As a kid, I became known, much to my embarrassment, as “Junior Fireman” because of a fire I had accidentally set in my room – and my unsuccessful attempts to put the fire out. I thought that I would never live that moment down, but finally, people forgot my unfortunate actions.

Some of us are not so lucky. Those somewhat innocent but embarrassing acts follow us for the rest of our lives. It is not really that we are all that different, but often our lives are defined less by our actions and more by what we are caught doing – and by the labels that we attach to those efforts. I remember a kid, some years ago, who starred in a drama production that I was directing. One of his teachers from school was amazed at his performance because she didn’t think that he could read, let alone memorize vast portions of a script. He was labeled, and expectations were changed when there was no truth behind the label.  

Bible characters often suffer the same fate. We remember Thomas as a doubter, in spite of his courageous statement made when it became clear that Jesus intended to walk back into the danger that existed in Jerusalem. At that moment, Thomas said, “Let us also go, that we may die with him” (John 11:16).

Peter suffers from a similar fate. We remember him as the one who denied. It is the way that Peter remembered himself. And after this moment of denial, Peter seems to stand outside of the group of Apostles in a self-imposed exile until Jesus reinstates him on the shores of the Sea of Galilee. But there is a reality that we often miss.

At the arrest of Jesus, most of the disciples and Jesus supporters ran. They hid away in homes in and outside of Jerusalem hoping that the nightmare would end. The two disciples who did not run were Peter and another disciple (most likely John.) They followed Jesus and the soldiers to the place of the High Priest where Jesus would undergo his first examination. Here we find that, for a moment, the two separate. The other disciple is apparently known by the High Priest. If this disciple is John, then that makes sense because his father, Zebedee, was an influential businessman. John presumably obtains permission to bring Peter into the courtyard of the High Priest. John is in his element. He has been here before as the son of Zebedee. But for Peter, this is an aspect of society that he has never experienced. One can imagine the emotions that are running through Peter. He has just watched Jesus be arrested, he has gotten into a fight with a member of the arresting party, followed the soldiers and Jesus to the place of the High Priest, and now he is standing in the courtyard of the home that represented religious power in Jerusalem – a place with which he is very unfamiliar. This night has been overwhelming.

And then the denials begin. There is no doubt that Peter denied Jesus, just as Jesus predicted that he would. But maybe we need to be reminded where Peter was as those denials took place. He was in the courtyard of the High Priest. Admittedly, it may not be much of an excuse; he still denied. But the other side of the story is that if he had run and hid like most of the disciples, he would never have denied. It is only because Peter courageously followed Jesus after his arrest that he was in a position to deny his friend. And maybe it is that courage that we should remember, instead of his failure represented by his three denials that he knew Jesus.

Tomorrow’s Scripture Reading: John 19

So Pilate asked Jesus, “Are you the king of the Jews?” “You have said so,” Jesus replied. – Luke 23:3

Today’s Scripture Reading (November 27, 2017): Luke 23

Ancient peoples believed that it was the fates or the direct hand of God that made a king. We might prefer to say it was the luck of the draw. The British Commonwealth’s longest reigning sovereign, Queen Elizabeth II, arrived at her throne in a somewhat unconventional manner. When she was born, she was far down the list of possible heirs, and no one expected that she would ever become queen. Her father was never supposed to become king. And then her uncle, Edward VIII, abdicated; walking away from his throne for love, making all the romantic people extremely happy. And all of a sudden, Elizabeth becoming Queen became a distinct possibility. Her father was now King, and she was the oldest of his children. He had no sons, which was significant in that day; a son of any age would have automatically placed him in front of Elizabeth in the line of succession. And so Elizabeth became the heir presumptive to the throne. Today, she would have been heir apparent, because the ancient rule placing the oldest son on the throne has been overturned in favor of the oldest child, regardless of sex.

If that change had been made a thousand years ago, I wonder how that would have shaped history. How many of our historical kings would have never ascended to the throne because they had an older sister? The line of succession would have changed drastically, and our current royal family would have been far down the list of possible heirs to the throne.

In a week, the Christmas Season for the church officially begins. It is called Advent, which merely indicates it is a time of waiting. During Advent, we are all waiting for the coming of the king. So Pilate’s question maybe becomes even more interesting. Was Jesus the King of the Jews in any political way? And there is a disagreement among the Gospel writers as to the answer to that question. Matthew leans toward yes. He declares that Jesus is the son of David, following the line of the kings. Even after the Babylonian Captivity, Jesus continues to claim direct lineage from the ones who would have occupied the throne had there been a Jewish throne to hold until history blurs our sight to the point where we lose sight of who the rightful heir should have been. But this also comes with a problem. The Prophet Jeremiah had cursed this main line declaring that no son of ‘Coniah (Jeconiah) would ever take the throne of Judah.

Luke takes a more circumspect route to Jesus’s lineage. He still maintains that Jesus was a descendant of David, but avoids much of the kingly line. (Interestingly, Luke rejoins the kingly line for Shealtiel and Zerubbabel before diverging once again.) This is sometimes considered to be the lineage of Mary, even though her name, or the name of any other woman, does not appear in it. But the convergence at the point of Shealtiel and Zerubbabel means that Luke has not entirely avoided the curse of Jeconiah since Shealtiel and Zerubbabel were both descendants of ‘Coniah.     

Politically, Caesar had placed the Herod’s on the throne, bypassing the sons of Israel altogether. The Herod’s descended from Esau and not Jacob.

So Pilate asks the question – Are you the King of the Jews? But maybe the real answer was that there were no kings of the Jews who were acceptable to God. Jesus was the Messiah and the Son of God, two positions that surpassed that of being merely a king. After all, maybe being king is just about luck, but Messiah and the privilege of being the Son of God are all about God.

Tomorrow’s Scripture Reading: John 18

But Jesus still made no reply, and Pilate was amazed. – Mark 15:5

Today’s Scripture Reading (November 26, 2017): Mark 15

Will Rogers was onto something when he said: “Never miss a good chance to shut up.” Many of us suffer from verbal diarrhea, spilling out way more than needs to be said. And often, what needs to be said is nothing.  A good friend is usually one who is willing to sit with you in silence. The requirement of silence in the face of the unknowable is one of the morals of the biblical story of Job. Job’s companions would have been much better friends if they had not felt the need to fill the silence with their explanations. If they had have just sat with Job, and mourned with Job, their presence could have been better tolerated. But often that is not our way. We must speak and fill the void with our words.

As Jesus is brought before Pilate, Pilate is put in an unusual position. Oh, many men had been brought into his presence in a similar state as this beaten Rabbi, but usually, they groveled for their lives. Often they made their excuses, or counter-accusations, or just simply begged for the mercy of the court.

But Jesus did not. Isaiah prophesied about this moment when he wrote – “He was oppressed and afflicted, yet he did not open his mouth; he was led like a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before its shearers is silent, so he did not open his mouth” (Isaiah 53:7). A pastor I know has an excellent description of the trial of Jesus that emphasizes that Jesus was railroaded by this kangaroo court, but I am not sure that that is true. Consider the charges. Jesus thought that he was the Messiah (guilty). He thought that he was a prophet of God (guilty) and even worse that he was the Son of God (still guilty). He was accused of saying that he could destroy the temple and rebuild it in three days (finally something that is technically not true. Jesus actual claim was that if the Temple were destroyed, he would raise it again in three days [John 2:19] but he was talking about his body, and he did not say that he would destroy the temple, so the charge is misapplied.) But still, the charges of which Jesus was guilty were all that was necessary for a death sentence under Jewish law. The added political charge that Jesus declared that he was King of the Jews was just an excuse to get Rome on board with the execution, but that accusation was unnecessary for a Jewish application of the death penalty. Jesus, to save his life, was not willing to take anything back, and so he stayed silent.

And his silence was a problem for Pilate. With no defense offered by the accused, the law was entirely on the side of those making the accusation. But Roman judges often hesitated to find a man who had provided no defense, guilty. And that single fact might be one of the reasons why Pilate washed his hands of the whole affair. In the face of Jesus’s silence and lack of defense, he would rather that the decision rest somewhere else – in this case with the Jewish Sanhedrin and the people who clamored for his crucifixion. Pilate would not go down in history as the one who found an undefended Jewish Rabbi guilty of a crime if he could help it. The blame had to be placed somewhere else. And it was.

Tomorrow’s Scripture Reading: Luke 23

So Judas threw the money into the temple and left. Then he went away and hanged himself. - Matthew 27:5

Today’s Scripture Reading (November 25, 2017): Matthew 27

Fredrick Buechner writes that “Life is grace. Sleep is forgiveness. The night absolves. Darkness wipes the slate clean, not spotless to be sure, but clean enough for another day's chalking.” I learned many years ago to not make any significant decisions during the evening or night. As much as I admit that I am a night owl, I need to hit the reset button and come at a major problem in the light of the day. Someone once said that most pastors resign every Monday morning, they just never hand in their letters of resignation. I understand the emotion, but for me, it is Sunday night. On Sunday night I am always pretty sure that I have nothing left to say, that I have given everything that I have to give and that I have absorbed all of the criticism that one person should be expected to bear. But after a good night’s sleep, all of that seems to fade. Maybe I have enough strength for one more week, enough to say for one more sermon, and enough resilience to absorb just a little more criticism.

I have to admit that the story of Judas confuses me more than just a little. I mean, all of God’s plan for redemption depended on Jesus’s betrayal. When did Jesus know that Judas would be the one who would betray him? How did Jesus react to betrayal? Part of the problem in the story is that there is no reset button, the forgiveness that sleep offers is never obtained by either the Rabbi or his disciple. The story arch for both Judas and Jesus run concurrently, Jesus is tried and crucified just as Judas runs into his depression and commits suicide, and for both men, death comes before the men get an opportunity for sleep and the forgiveness that it brings. I have never been convinced that Judas was evil to the core, or that this was just about the money. And Judas’s suicide seems to indicate that something else was at play in the mind of Jesus’s betrayer. Judas’s intended outcome in turning Jesus over to the religious authorities does not seem to be the death of Jesus. If anything, I think Judas wanted to spur Jesus on toward the purpose of the Messiah’s coming as Judas understood it. Judas wanted to unleash the Superman that he believed Jesus to be.  

But that is not what happened. The situation, from Judas’s viewpoint, spiraled out of control. The Messiah dies instead of achieving the Messianic victory that Judas and many Jews had expected. And in dismay, Judas dies – and he probably dies in a very clumsy manner. There is actually biblical conflict in the description of Judas’s death, While Matthew says that Judas hanged himself, Luke argues that “Judas bought a field; there he fell headlong, his body burst open and all his intestines spilled out” (Acts 1:18). Maybe the logical solution to the contrasting descriptions of Judas’s death is that he attempted to hang himself, but in his haste was not successful and died as a result from an awkward fall that followed his attempted suicide.

Maybe the bigger question is whether or not there was grace enough even for Judas. If somehow Judas had survived to Easter Sunday, was grace available to him in spite of what he had done. And I think the answer would have been yes. If Judas had lived, there is little doubt that he would have been immediately rejected by the other Apostles, but I have a suspicion that Jesus would have appeared to them bringing forgiveness, grace, and reconciliation. Peter and Judas could have had some great conversations considering their failures, and maybe the Christian Church would have been made even stronger – Judas could have been our real-life Ebenezer Scrooge.

But that is not what happened. Judas did not find the grace inherent in life nor the forgiveness of sleep. He did not wake up on Saturday morning mourning his loss, but with a slate ready to be chalked up once more. And Judas did not give Jesus the chance to come and offer him a second chance to get it right, and that might be the most tragic event in the life and death of Judas Iscariot.  

Tomorrow’s Scripture Reading: Mark 15

After Jesus said this, he looked toward heaven and prayed: “Father, the hour has come. Glorify your Son, that your Son may glorify you.” – John 17:1

Today’s Scripture Reading (November 24, 2017): John 17

It is called “The Lord’s Prayer.” It is fairly easily memorized although, as with most Bible passages, I seem to get a little messed up with it. Over the years I have memorized the prayer in three different translations, beginning with the “King James Version,” and then the “New International Version,” and most recently in the words of “The Message.” The Lord’s Prayer is said in some churches every week and in others more rarely. It is the subject of many skits and jokes. (My favorite anecdote about the Lord’s Prayer is the one about a child who tries to make sense of the words by praying it this way – Our Father, who hollers up in heaven, hello, what’s your name.) The prayer is easily recognizable by most people, whether they go to church or not. It is found in its most common form in Matthew 6.

              Our Father in heaven,

              Hallowed be your name,
              Your kingdom come, your will be done,
              On earth as it is in heaven.
              Give us today our daily bread.
              And forgive us our debts,
              As we also have forgiven our debtors.
              And lead us not into temptation,
              But deliver us from the evil one.’
                                                            Matthew 6:9-13 (NIV) 

The “deliver us from evil,” or “deliver us from the evil one” debate continues to rage, either probably could be the intent of the prayer. And for those of you who miss the “For Thine is the Kingdom, and the power, and the glory, forever, Amen,” that appears to be a late addition to the prayer by a priest and not part of Jesus’s original words. They make the prayer sound more like a prayer; after all, every prayer has to end with “Amen” to be truly considered a prayer, right?

But the reality is that this prayer is not really “The Lord’s Prayer.” A better title might be “The Disciple’s Prayer.” It was a prayer given as a gift to the disciples in answer to their request – teach us to pray. This simple prayer is a model for us.

John 17 gives us a prayer that we often call “The High Priestly Prayer” but really this is the true “Lord’s Prayer.” It is a prayer that is prayed by Jesus, not as a model for us, but out of his anguish as the hour of Jesus’s death approaches. In it is a recognition of all of Jesus’s fears and hopes as the moment that he has been preparing for finally arrives. In this prayer, Jesus prays recognizing that, now, everything was in the hands of his Father. Jesus seems to understand that his life has now shrunk down to less than twenty-four hours. And most of the hours that he has left will not be pleasant ones. In this prayer, we find Jesus’s humanity, his questioning of the path – is there another way - and his worry over the disciples and those who would come after him. The question behind the words appears to be “Father, did I do enough?”

The answer to this question would come from the cross. As that hour came, the Father would glorify the Son, and the Son the Father, just as Jesus had asked as he began his prayer. And at that moment, Jesus would discover that point of enough.

Tomorrow’s Scripture Reading: Matthew 27

I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world. – John 16:33

Today’s Scripture Reading (November 23, 2017): John 16

It was just a picture. And yet the image sent shock waves throughout Japanese society. The photo was taken at the first meeting of General Douglas MacArthur and Emperor Hirohito. At the close of the Second World War, General MacArthur had decided to take a different approach to post-war Japan than it had taken in post-war Germany. In Germany, the political machine had been completely taken apart. But in Japan, MacArthur decided to allow the Japanese emperor to continue to reign, albeit that reign would be subject to the overall ruling authority of the United States. MacArthur took the approach that Hirohito, who was seen as a god in Japan, had been unable to stop the militaristic extremists who had hijacked the Japanese political structure in the early 1930’s. The General painted a picture of Emperor Hirohito as a western moderate who could restore the nation to what it should have been. Historians still argue over whether MacArthur was right, and over how much influence Hirohito exercised over the events of the Second World War, and how much of Japan’s War crimes for which the Emperor had been responsible.

But then there was the picture. Taken at the first meeting of MacArthur and Hirohito, the picture showed a taller and more impressive MacArthur standing next to a shorter and smaller Hirohito. Up until this moment in time, photos of the Emperor had always been taken in such a way that made him look both taller and larger than life. The photo taken with General MacArthur was the first time that the reclusive Emperor was seen as the small man that he was. Almost immediately, Japanese officials banned the photo in Japan. But MacArthur insisted that the ban be repealed, and the photograph be published throughout the nation. The implicit statement was the United States was more significant and more important than the Japanese god.

The world often seems to struggle with our picture of God. The question that society usually raises is simply how could your God be subject to execution on a cross? Over the centuries since the crucifixion, we have come up with several heresies to describe what happened on that first Good Friday. Maybe chief among these theories is the idea that the Christ, the god part of Jesus, was removed before Jesus, which now consisted of just the human component, was crucified - because God cannot die.

Yet, the fact that Jesus Christ died for our sins is essential for all that we believe. I am forgiven because he was forsaken. I get to be alive because he died.

All of this belief in who we are seems to be summed up by these words, spoken by Jesus, from the shadow of the cross. “In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.” As Jesus prepared to go to the cross, it was not as a defeated religious leader. Jesus was not a beaten king being punished for his inability to win. Jesus went to the cross victorious, defeating the power of sin and death in our lives forever. The picture of Jesus on a cross is not an image of which we are ashamed, proving the weakness of our God. It is a picture victory that we display proudly to the world.

We serve a God who went to the cross in the very moment of his victory. This is our king!

Tomorrow’s Scripture Reading: John 17

Remain in me, as I also remain in you. No branch can bear fruit by itself; it must remain in the vine. Neither can you bear fruit unless you remain in me. – John 15:4

Today’s Scripture Reading (November 22, 2017): John 15

Mother Teresa admitted that “I alone cannot change the world, but I can cast a stone across the waters to create many ripples.” It is the reality that we probably have all come to know well. The problems of this planet, are too big for any one of us. But we can create ripples.

I have to admit that I am bothered by the idea of a solitary Christian. It seems that then Christianity is reduced to a set of teachings, or a simple belief in a deity – in this case, Jesus, and usually combined with some sort of a Trinitarian understanding that adds the Father and Holy Spirit – but that does not change the way that we live our lives. I understand why we want to be solitary Christians. I often want to live that way, especially on Monday Mornings after a weekend of criticism and of being forced to witness the enormous capability of people to find themselves in conflict. We don’t play well in our sandbox together. But the problem is that when I am alone in my sandbox, I am not creating ripples that will impact someone else’s life. And I am not part of a movement where my ripples are combined with the ripples of other believers resulting in a tidal wave of change. This is the reality in every area of life. Politically we will get nowhere unless others are drawn to our ripples, socially there will be no change without our ripples, and spiritually we will have no impact on this world if our ripples only extend out to the edge of our personal echo chambers. If we are to be change agents in our world, this can only be if we are able to remain together.

So Jesus issues this command to his disciples – “Remain in me.” He talks about a vine with all of its branches and about this idea of bearing fruit – making a change in the world. I have to admit that I have often read this as a command to evangelize the nations or to make more Christians, but as I grow older, I am not convinced that that is true. I think Jesus’s idea of bearing fruit is much closer to Paul’s. We are to be a people who make ripples of “love, joy, peace, forbearance (or patience), kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control” (Galatians 5:22-23). But we can only do that if we exist in community.

Of course, I think the idea of “remaining in Christ” is actually a command for community. After all, the small c Christian church is his physical body in the world. Remain in him. Put all of your differences aside and learn to play in the sandbox together. Go out and create ripples that together become tidal waves of change. That is what we have been created since the beginning of time to do.   

Tomorrow’s Scripture Reading: John 16

My Father’s house has many rooms; if that were not so, would I have told you that I am going there to prepare a place for you? – John 14:2

Today’s Scripture Reading (November 21, 2017): John 14

Chinese Philosopher Lao Tzu teaches that we should

                                      Manifest plainness,
                                      Embrace simplicity,
                                      Reduce selfishness,
                                      Have few desires.”

It is often the moments that we forget this advice that causes us trouble. It is then that we begin to believe that there is something special about us when there isn’t. Even the most talented among us need to embrace the fact that our talents are either just the luck of the draw, or a gift from a higher power, but that they have very little to do with us.

It is easy to read this passage and become a little self-absorbed. One pastor commented to me that he liked the King James Version of this verse better – The King James reads “In my Father’s House are many mansions.” He argued that he didn’t want just a room; he wanted a mansion. My grandfather used to sing of a “mansion just over the hilltop” based on the King James translation of this verse. Even I have preached this passage with an eye toward my comfort. If you are looking for my room, it will be the one with a Diet Coke Machine just outside the door. Of course what both of these ideas hold in common is that they lose sight of Lao Tzu’s teaching which, while not Christian, shares a significant similarity to fundamental Christian teachings on living the simple life. After a living a life marked by plainness, embracing simplicity, trying hard not to be selfish and having few desires, we seem to want an afterlife characterized by extravagance and excess – we want our mansion and not just a room.

But the other problem with our mansion theology is that it seems to miss out on one aspect that Jesus made clear to his disciples in this verse. Whether it is a mansion or a room, it is not mine. This is my Father’s house – and everything in the house belongs to him. Jesus says that he will go and prepare a place for us; that he will go out of his way to make us feel welcome, but it is still Dad’s house.

Don’t get me wrong, my Father’s House is going to be amazing, but I don’t ever want to forget that it is and always will be his house. And maybe one way of reminding ourselves of that is by practicing that kind of life in my Father’s World because this planet on which we live is not ours either. It is his and always has been his. Sometimes, like selfish children, we have trashed what is his. We need to be reminded, like children, that the time comes when we have to clean our room because it doesn’t really belong to us. And once we get used to living in our Father’s world, maybe it will be a little easier when we are welcomed into his house.

Tomorrow’s Scripture Reading: John 15

“No,” said Peter, “you shall never wash my feet.” Jesus answered, “Unless I wash you, you have no part with me.” – John 13:8

Today’s Scripture Reading (November 20, 2017): John 13

Sometimes, I think, we kill ourselves trying to live up to an unreachable standard. Or maybe it is only me. Now, I do not mean that we should not be continually growing, continually trying to be more like Christ. But the problem is that even as we grow, we have this stain that is on us from past deeds – both things that we have done and things that we have left undone. I don’t know all of the answers. But I do know that in my past I have committed a lot of wrongs for which I am not proud. My theology says that because I have confessed my sins, that I am forgiven, but sometimes I just don’t feel too forgiven. And the weight gets heavy. I try my best to hide the ugly load that I bear from others, but sometimes it is just too overwhelming.

Jesus begins to play the role of a servant by taking on the task of washing the feet of the disciples. But Peter balks. Jesus will not wash his feet. Now, I have to admit that I have ugly feet and I am ashamed of my feet at any time someone threatens to re-enact this foot washing. But I really don’t think that that was Peter’s problem (although I feel like I need to make this comment – a foot washing in a large service setting or with a group of pastors, or people who rarely see each other, I believe is inappropriate because it is being done outside of community – but that was not the case with Jesus and the disciples). Peter’s problem was that there was so much in his life that was ugly. And among other disciples or servants, he could convince himself that they were at least as bad as he was – maybe. But this was Jesus. And there was an ugliness that Peter bore that he knew Jesus did not bear. Perhaps there was an ugliness that the outspoken disciple was trying to hide from his mentor. I think that Peter would have been quite willing to wash the feet of Jesus, but Jesus was not going to wash his feet. Jesus was not going to know his ugliness.

It is part of the excuse that we often seem to make about the act of coming into a church building. When I am good enough, then I will come to Jesus. But until then I just need to work harder on the project of making myself better on my own strength. And the reality is that, under that scenario, we will never make it.

Jesus’s command to us has always been the same as it was for Peter, come to me and I will wash what is dirty. I will take care of the ugliness – but first, you have to come.

Tomorrow’s Scripture Reading: John 14

For who is greater, the one who is at the table or the one who serves? Is it not the one who is at the table? But I am among you as one who serves. – Luke 22:27

Today’s Scripture Reading (November 19, 2017): Luke 22

In 1865, Lewis Carroll, who was actually mathematician Charles Lutwidge Dodgson, published “Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland.” The novel is an excellent example of nonsense fiction, to which anyone who has tried to read the story can attest. Nothing is quite what it seems. But the book begins with Alice trying to read a book with no pictures. She gets drowsy at the tedious task, and then notices a rather strange sight – a white rabbit with a waistcoat and a pocket watch muttering something about being late. Alice decides to follow the peculiar Rabbit down the Rabbit Hole.

More than 150 years later, going “down the rabbit hole” remains with us about anything that we consider to be bizarre. Often it is used as a warning, as in “we don’t want to go down that rabbit hole.” But the bizarre nature of Carroll’s original adventure stays with us as we keep the phrase alive.

Anyone who has genuinely tried to blank out the things that we think that we know about the Bible and just read the pages, especially when it comes to Jesus’s teaching, recognize that Jesus seemed to teach from the “rabbit hole.” I recently had a conversation with a friend about the nature of the Gospel message. Specifically, our discussion centered around the idea that the Gospel insists that we stand on the street corner yelling “repent for the end is near” to anyone who passes by. It goes along with our misconception of Jesus healing someone, or forgiving someone, and then commanding them to “go and sin no more.” The command to “go and sin no more” would seem to be more ours than Jesus’s; it makes sense to us. If “Jesus always said it” means twice in all of the Gospels, then we are right. But it was not Jesus go to response, and one of Jesus’s two “go and sin no more” moments is found in a disputed text at the beginning of John 8. (Both incidents of Jesus saying “Go and sin no more” are found in the Gospel of John, the other is in John 5, and it did not happen at the time of the healing, but rather later when Jesus met the man in the Temple. Jesus exact words raise some other questions in John 5. He said “Stop sinning or something worse may happen to you” (John 5:14b). The origin or reason of the warning is a bit of a mystery, but Jesus seemed to continually lead his followers “down the rabbit hole.”)

And maybe no more “down the rabbit hole” than at the Last Supper. It is John that gives us the story of Jesus washing the Apostle’s feet at this final gathering of Jesus and his friends, but Luke also acknowledges Jesus’s servant attitude in this moment. In his instructions to the disciples, he acknowledges what we all know. If you go to a dinner party, greatness is found sitting at the table, and not among those who serve. We get that. We may not all be great who sit at the table, but the recognition is that the honored guest sits at the Table. But Jesus twists this understanding and sends us “down the rabbit hole.” Jesus stresses that he came to serve.

What would happen if, at the next White House dinner, the President of the United States rose from his seat at the table and took the water jar from those who are serving and then went around the table pouring beverages in their stead? What would happen if he then ran back into the kitchen and started to happily carry out the plates, with the meal so expertly laid on them, to the guests who had gathered? It would be a moment that would send the press corp. “down the rabbit hole.” (It might also change the direction of his presidency.)

Jesus says, “I know that he who is great sits at the table, but I have come among you as one who serves.” And the reality is that if Jesus comes as one who serves, then we can rise no higher than the one we profess to follow. The disciples were “one who serves” – and so are we. Also notice that according to Jesus, greatness is still sitting at the table. We are not great as we serve, we serve greatness because this is our mission. And serving is more important than being great.  

Welcome to the rabbit hole.     

Tomorrow’s Scripture Reading: John 13

“It is one of the Twelve,” he replied, “one who dips bread into the bowl with me.” – Mark 14:20

Today’s Scripture Reading (November 18, 2017): Mark 14

William Shatner and George Takei don’t get along. Well, that is true depending on who it is that is speaking. Takei (Sulu on “Star Trek: The Original Series”) doesn’t seem to take the rumors of his feud with his former on-screen Captain (Kirk) too seriously. According to Takei, Shatner only brings up the feud when he is in need of publicity for a new project on which he is embarking. According to Shatner, who knows? For the most part, the actor seems to like to remain silent on the issue – unless he is in need of publicity.

George Takei admits that there is some substance to the feud which goes back to the Star Trek days. Takei admits that Shatner is a wonderful actor, but that he is also a little self-absorbed and rarely seemed to understand how to work as a team with the rest of the cast. The camera always needed to be on him. And Shatner appears to continue that focus, even remarking that no one cared when Takei came out as gay. (George, we care.)

An old idiom declares that familiarity breeds contempt. The more that we get to know each other and the more time we spend with each other, the less we realize that we like each other. It is one of the more common reasons for divorce. Often I hear one spouse declaring of the other that “I never really knew you.” The implication is that if I had, I would not have married you. And so divorce is the only answer. Sometimes feuds between on screen (or off screen) friends can feel like a kind of divorce.

So what about the feud between Jesus and Judas. It is easy to take sides; Jesus was God and Judas was the Devil. This is definitely the understanding of the conflict held by the disciples. But Jesus words remind us of something else. By saying that the betrayer came from the Twelve and that he is “one who dips the bread into the bowl with me,” Jesus is reminding us that he and Judas were friends. And we need to be sure that we don’t take that fact too lightly. They knew each other well, and yet, something deems to have happened to the friendship.

John appears to indicate that part of the reason behind the betrayal was that Judas was a thief. And while I recognize that the accusation is biblical (John 12:6), we maybe need to be careful about an indictment that is brought by only one witness, and in this, John stands alone. Even the Bible warns us that a charge must be corroborated by two or three witnesses and there is something unseemly about the idea of stealing from a friend. And what would Judas being a thief have to do with the betrayal? There are two possible answers. Maybe he was tempted by the amount of money that he was offered to do the job (although he seems to have gone to the priests with the offer to betray before he knew that he was going to be paid for that betrayal). Or his friend Jesus knew that he was stealing and was about to confront him. As far as feuds go, here lie the seeds for a good one – and while both Jesus and Judas died shortly after the betrayal, the Christian Church has taken up the feud with Judas.

But there might be another answer, albeit it would mean that either John’s accusation was wrong or it was unconnected with the betrayal. We know that even his disciples and friends did not get Jesus and his mission. They were still looking for the military advantage over Rome. At it seems possible that Judas’s betrayal was a way to force Jesus hand toward a military solution. If Jesus were betrayed into the hands of his enemies, he would be forced to expedite his plans for a military victory over Rome.  

Of course, all of this extends out of a misunderstanding between friends – in this case, entirely on the part of Judas. And Judas didn’t stay around long enough to understand the real victory that Jesus was planning – a victory that was brought a step closer because of a friend’s betrayal.   

Tomorrow’s Scripture Reading: Luke 22

… a woman came to him with an alabaster jar of very expensive perfume, which she poured on his head as he was reclining at the table. – Matthew 26:7

Today’s Scripture Reading (November 17, 2017): Matthew 26

Virginia Woolf famously remarked that “for most of history, anonymous was a woman.” Our world struggles for sexual equality, although admittedly we are at various stages of the struggle depending on where in the world you look. But the reality that we sometimes forget is that the struggle is actually new. It was not that long ago when women simply did not appear in the pages of history unless there was something extraordinary about them. And if they did want to make a difference, they often did it under male names. Karen Blixen, the author of “Out of Africa,” wrote under the name of Isak Dineson. One of my favorite 19^th-century English authors, George Eliot, was actually Mary Ann Evans. George Sand, one of Frances most prolific writers of the 19^th century, was really Amantine Lucille Aurore Dupin. And the list goes on. Sometimes these women were hiding behind the male names, but often writing under a male name was the only way to get heard. For most of history, anonymous was a woman.

Matthew doesn’t tell us who the woman is that broke into this space at the home of Simon the Leper, but that hasn’t stopped us from trying to figure out who she was. And we have some clues. The story that Matthew tells is remarkably similar to the one that John relates in his gospel (John 12), although it is not identical. And John refuses to let the woman be anonymous. In his telling, he says that she was none other than Mary of Bethany, the sister of Martha and Lazarus, who Jesus raised from the dead.

Another similar story, but again not identical, occurs early in the Gospel of Luke (Luke 7). In Luke, once again the woman is anonymous, but Luke adds that she was sinful. These words, combined with the reaction of Simon the Pharisee (the host of the gathering as opposed to Matthew’s “Simon the Leper”) leads us to conclude that the woman was a prostitute. While Luke does not tell us the woman’s name, it is right after this story that we learn that Mary Magdalene, a woman tormented by demons, but healed by Jesus, joins the Jesus entourage. It is this one-two combination that has led many to conclude that Mary Magdalene was a prostitute, connecting her with the unnamed woman of Luke 7.

In the end, maybe we can’t say with certainty who this woman was who anointed Jesus for his burial during the final days of his ministry (although Mary of Bethany seems to be the obvious solution). I wonder if maybe Mary of Bethany and Mary Magdalene weren’t the same person. The idea of combining the two women adds some explanation to Martha’s frustration that Mary refused to help her with dinner, instead insisting on sitting at the feet of Jesus. (Can’t you hear Martha complaining that Mary hasn’t done an ounce of honest work in her life, making her living on her back with the men?) And while that idea may be offensive to some, it underscores the idea that Jesus accepts us all, just as we are – even if sometimes we struggle with taking people just as they are. After all, Mary (either of Bethany or Magdalene) seemed to enjoy the favor of Jesus, in spite of her sin.

Tomorrow’s Scripture Reading: Mark 14

He also saw a poor widow put in two very small copper coins. – Luke 21:2

Today’s Scripture Reading (November 16, 2017): Luke 21

In 2012, a unique project began; The Fix the World Organization. According to their website, they are unique because of their independence. Headquartered in Morocco, they are not tied to a government or any religious organization. And they are not a non-profit, which hopefully makes their goals sustainable. They simply present a different way to do business, one that focuses on Clean Energy and Humanitarian concentrated business ideas. They also offer a subscription so that others can help them with their goals.

Can they fix the world? Probably not. The cynic among us will probably wonder if that is indeed even their goal. There always seems to be groups that want to take our hard earned money to line their own pockets. Maybe this is just another example of a gimmicky way of making money. But part of the problem is that even if the intentions of “The Fix the World Organization” are honorable, fixing the world is such a big task, and we are so small. We are helpless against such a big challenge, and so often, we look at the size of the job ahead of us and decide to do nothing.

So Jesus tells the story of the widow at the Temple. The situation of a widow in ancient times was not a good one. Often they were very poor and without support. Organizations like the Jewish Church would attempt to feed them, but the task was usually beyond their ability to fulfill. In Acts, which tells the story of the early Christian Church, there is a disagreement about how the responsibility of taking care of the widows was being carried out. Some argued that the church was playing favorites with Jewish widows and leaving the Gentile widows to starve. The task was huge, and a group of men was chosen and given the authority to find a solution.

But the story of Jesus tells of the other side of the situation. In this case, a widow comes into the temple. It would have been easy to argue that she should just forgo the offering box. Everyone would understand. But instead, she approaches the offering box and gives two small copper coins. The coins are virtually worthless, but they are all that she has. In the grand scheme of things, those two coins will get lost in the shuffle, but the widow has given what she has.

None of us can fix the world, but we can offer what we have. In the face of tragedy after tragedy, with news channels telling us the story of unprovoked gun violence and terrorists using vehicles to cut down people, we can all give what we have – even if it is not much. We can choose to share love when hate comes too quickly. We can decide to be a healing presence in this world with what little we have, trusting that it will make a difference, just like the copper coins of the widow made enough of a difference at the Temple that Jesus felt he needed to make an example of her in front of his disciples. The task is always too large, and yet, we all have our everything, even if our everything is just a couple of copper coins, to offer to make a difference.

Tomorrow’s Scripture Reading: Matthew 26

John’s baptism—was it from heaven, or of human origin?” – Luke 20:4

Today’s Scripture Reading (November 15, 2017): Luke 20

Star Trek fans know of it as the “Kobayashi Maru Scenario;” it is the classic no-win situation. No matter what you do, you cannot beat the problem. Of course, in the Star Trek Universe, Captain James T. Kirk did beat the “Kobayashi Maru Scenario” by reprogramming the computer. Some would argue that Kirk cheated, but Kirk maintained that he simply does not believe in no-win situations. There is always a way out; the trick is to find it. (And in the case of the “Kobayashi Maru Scenario,” the elusive solution was found in reprogramming the computer.)  

I like to play chess – I just wish that I played the game better. In chess, the object of the game is to get the other player’s King. You can lose any other piece on the board and play on, but if you lose your king, the game is over. Now, typically, this is done through a battle of attrition – you try to get so many of your opponent’s pieces that he can no longer properly defend his King. It sounds simple, but really it isn’t. A great offensive weapon when going on the attack is the fork – getting one of your pieces in such a place where your piece can’t be touched, but you have a choice of two of your opponent’s pieces to remove from the board. And your opponent can only save one. The move works great with a King – because the King has to be protected, and as a result, the other piece must be sacrificed.

I have a feeling that Jesus was a good chess player because this passage is the variation of the classic fork; it is the religious elite’s “Kobayashi Maru.” There just wasn’t a right answer. No matter what the Priests said, the answer was going to cost them something. They had hoped to back Jesus into a corner, to force Jesus to say that his power came from heaven. Then they would have all the evidence that they needed to attack Jesus as a heretic. But Jesus changed the focus to John the Baptist, who was still a popular figure in Judea. To say that John was not a prophet was going to the cost them in the arena of public opinion. But to say that John was a prophet of God was also going to cost them because they had very publically opposed John during his lifetime. Why was it that, if they believed that John was sent from God, that they spent so much of their time fighting against him. There was no right answer – and so they deferred.

In chess, a fork just causes you to lose a piece. In real life, forks often occur in places where we hold an inaccurate belief – and where it is precisely that belief that has to be re-examined – and eventually sacrificed because it is just not important. For the religious elite, it was the idea of Jesus’s nature, and origins that needed to be re-evaluated – and, as Jesus’s no-win scenario pointed out, John’s nature and origin – something that they steadfastly refused to do.

There are a lot of side beliefs that we can hold. And some of them might be right – or they might be wrong. But the prime belief about Jesus raises the same questions for us as it did for the priests. Do you really believe that Jesus is from God? A lot of the disagreements in the universal church are really on issues that just don’t matter. The origin and nature of Jesus is the one about which we must have a firm belief. This is our king, to be protected at all costs, because if we lose that belief, then the game is over.

Tomorrow’s Scripture Reading: Luke 21

As Jesus was leaving the temple, one of his disciples said to him, “Look, Teacher! What massive stones! What magnificent buildings!” – Mark 13:1

Today’s Scripture Reading (November 14, 2017): Mark 13

The terror attack in New York a couple of weeks ago served to remind many of the horrible attack the city suffered on 9/11. It is still sometimes hard to watch movies, or T.V. shows set in New York before September 11, 2001, and see the twin towers still presiding in majesty over the city. If on September 10, 2001, someone had commented that one day soon the Towers of the World Trade Center would be brought down, we would not have believed it could be true. The Towers seemed to be a permanent part of the New York skyline. How could something so majestic ever be destroyed?

Whenever we build and whatever we build, we seldom think that our creation will one day be brought low. And yet, even if it is just through neglect as all of those “The World without Humans” shows try to remind us, nothing is permanent – and walls, no matter how magnificent, eventually fall.

The Temple in Jerusalem has had a troubled past. Solomon’s Temple or the First Temple in Jerusalem stood for less four centuries. (Note: There is some discrepancy about how long Solomon’s Temple stood. The Jewish historian Josephus in the first century C.E. argues that the Temple stood for 470 years, six months and ten days. Seder Olam Rabbah in the second century C.E. maintains that the Temple stood for 410 years. But if we can assume that Solomon began his solo reign in 970 B.C.E. and that he started building the Temple four years into his reign [966 B.C.E – 1 Kings 6:1] and completed the Temple in seven years [959 B.C.E. – 1 Kings 6:38] and then was destroyed by the Babylonians in 587 B.C.E., then Solomon’s Temple stood in Jerusalem for around 372 years.) Zerubbabel’s Temple, or the second Temple, actually stood for a more extended period. It was not as impressive, at least originally, as Solomon’s Temple, but it was built in 516 B.C.E. and was not destroyed until the Roman’s took it apart in 70 C.E. – approximately 585 years after it was constructed. But Zerubbabel’s Temple received a significant overhaul by King Herod in the first century B.C.E. In fact, that overhaul was likely not yet complete as the disciples were making their comments about the “massive stones” and the “magnificent building.” Yet not even that Temple was permanent.

As I have made clear elsewhere in this blog, I am not sure that God ever meant for us to build a Temple to his name. It seems to be more our desire than his. The Temple that God planned to create was always in the form of his son, whom he loved. And there, his name would dwell forever. Paul reminds us that we are God’s Temple (Don’t you know that you yourselves are God’s temple and that God’s Spirit lives in your midst? – 1 Corinthians 3:16). And that temple, built in us is sacred, and God will react against anyone who dares to attempt to destroy that Temple. And the Temple that God has made among us and in us is more beautiful and magnificent than any Temple that we could make from massive stones which would eventually fall down.

Tomorrow’s Scripture Reading: Luke 20