Thursday, February 19, 2009

A Few Comments on This Sunday's Gospel Lesson: Mark 9:2-9

[This coming Sunday's Gospel lesson for Saint Matthew Lutheran Church in Logan, Ohio, where I serve as pastor, will be the same as the lessons in many churches around the world. Hopefully, these notes will help folks prepare for worship.]

Mark 9:2-9
2Six days later, Jesus took with him Peter and James and John, and led them up a high mountain apart, by themselves. And he was transfigured before them, 3and his clothes became dazzling white, such as no one on earth could bleach them. 4And there appeared to them Elijah with Moses, who were talking with Jesus. 5Then Peter said to Jesus, “Rabbi, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.” 6He did not know what to say, for they were terrified. 7Then a cloud overshadowed them, and from the cloud there came a voice, “This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him!” 8Suddenly when they looked around, they saw no one with them any more, but only Jesus.

9As they were coming down the mountain, he ordered them to tell no one about what they had seen, until after the Son of Man had risen from the dead.

General Comments:
(1) This weekend brings us to the end of the Epiphany Season of the Church Year. (For more on the Epiphany Season, read here.) The sabbath lessons of the season are always bracketed by remembrances of Jesus' Baptism (the Baptism of Our Lord) and by the subject of this weekend's emphasis, the Transfiguration of Our Lord.

These texts fit in well with the Epiphany Season, one purpose of which is to highlight those incidents, especially the early ones, which pointed to Jesus' deity.

In both of these "Epiphany bookends," a voice from heaven affirms Jesus' "office" as Savior of the world, the promised Messiah. The voice's reference to Jesus as "Son" is more significant than it might seem. The term implies a closer kinship than that of an earthly son to his father. It means to have a single identity. Paul makes this explict in a few majestic verses that come at the beginning of his letter to the Colossians:
He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation; for in him all things in heaven and on earth were created, things visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or powers—all things have been created through him and for him. He himself is before all things, and in him all things hold together. He is the head of the body, the church; he is the beginning, the firstborn from the dead, so that he might come to have first place in everything. For in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, and through him God was pleased to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, by making peace through the blood of his cross. (Colossians 1:15-20)
In his account of Jesus' Baptism, Mark diverges from those of the other Gospel-writers (Matthew, Luke, and John) by saying that the voice was only heard by Jesus Himself. But here, in his Transfiguration account, the voice is heard by Peter, James, and John (and presumably Jesus). The first time, the voice comes to affirm Jesus in the course He's about to pursue. In the second, the voice affirms the beliefs of the three members of Jesus' inner-inner circle.

(2) In the past, some Biblical scholars, who always seem to be looking for ways to deconstruct and reconstruct Biblical texts to suit their own preferred ways of telling the salvation story, held that this was originally an Easter story which Mark and the other Gospel writers read back into an earlier time in Jesus' ministry, as a way of indicating that His Lordship had been revealed to the disciples even before His death and resurrection. But as one commentator, Hugh Anderson, points out, that theory comes to grief in the face of an important fact: In all of the incidents recording post-Easter encounters with Jesus, the resurrected Lord speaks. He doesn't do that here.

(3) Beyond dying and rising for our benefit, Jesus also came into the world to establish a community of faith devoted to living in love toward God and others. This community of faith, which is essential to God's mission in the world, is called the Church.

Of course, on Pentecost Day, fifty days after His resurrection, Jesus would send the the Holy Spirit. He is the source of godly power that has energized the Church ever since, the One Who gave birth to the Church. (And keeps giving birth to it. Check out John 3:3.)

The Spirit came to call out the Church that, under Jesus' leadership had existed in embryonic form. (You can read about this in Acts 2.) In this embryonic fellowship, Jesus had created a spiritual and an organizational infrastructure.

In His leadership, Jesus employed a method that will be familiar to almost anyone who's gone through an executive leadership or business management program. It had several components:
He spent the least time with the masses; more time with His disciples or students or followers (a group which, Paul reports, numbered about 500 people); more time still with the Twelve (the apostles); and the most time with three apostles, Peter, James, and John. In other words, the greater the leadership role to be taken by people, the more time Jesus spent training them.

The make-up of Jesus' training program was mainly made up of three steps: He showed them how; He was with them as they did what they showed them; He set them loose to do what He'd showed them; He had them come back for debriefing and refinement.
At the Transfiguration, Jesus was with the inner-inner circle of Peter, James, and John (PJ2). In his commentary on this passage, Brian Stoffregen observes:
This is the second time the "inner three" are set apart in Mark. They witness the raising of Jairus' daughter from the dead in 5:37ff. It is then ironic that these three question what the rising from the dead could mean (9:9-10). The same word anistemi is used in both contexts.

The next time Jesus takes these three with him is in the Garden of Gethsemane (14:33). The three who have seen his power to raise the dead, who have seen his heavenly glory, also see his earthly agony. In these last two instances, they, especially Peter, respond poorly. On the mountain Peter wants to build booths. In the Garden they are to stay awake and pray, but they fall asleep three times.
It's a tribute to the power of God's Holy Spirit to transform people that these three unpromising characters gave faithful leadership to the Church as it carried the life-changing Good News of Jesus into the world!

[For an insightful and helpful discussion of the connection between Mark's Transfiguration account and the Old Testament figures of Elijah and Elisha, read Peter J. Leithart's Brazos Theological Commentary of the Bible volume, 1 & 2 Kings (Grand Rapids, Michigan: Brazos Press, 2006), pp. 171-117.]

Memo to Fox and Walden Media

Last night, with our daughter visiting from Florida, we decided to watch a 2008 film that she hadn't yet seen: The Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian. I love the Narnia novels and loved the Walden-Disney film based on the first in the series, The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe.

I wrote an enthusiastic review of the first film. But, on the theory that "if you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all," I wrote nothing about the second one.

But in light of the fact that the Disney people, collaborators on the first two films, have dropped out of a film based on the third Narnia novel, Voyage of the Dawn Treader, and Fox has signed on, I thought that I'd mention what bothered me so about Caspian and what I think may have bothered others, especially those who are as devoted to the C.S. Lewis books as I am.

In The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe film, the Walden-Disney team departed here and there from Lewis's novel, but as I pointed out in my review then, it didn't do so in ways that did violence to the story or the characters. The same can't be said of Caspian. A few specifics...

(1) Much of Lewis' Prince Caspian is about a journey, a physical trek that mirrors an inner struggle within the four Pevensie children--Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy. The question is whether they will lessen their physical struggle and heighten their usefulness in Narnia's time of need by heeding both Aslan* sightings and the counsel of the first Narnian they encounter, a dwarf named Trumpkin, or whether, flush with the excitement of returning to a world in which they'd once reigned as kings and queens, they'll rely on their own good sense.**

The producers of Caspian seem to have made the decision that their audiences would never sit still through a plot involving so much interiority and so many character issues. They turned their Caspian into an action flick with extended--and sometimes, boring--battle scenes, far more battling than appears in the novel.

(2) Too much violence and too much romance. Violence does appear in the Narnia novels, handled deftly by a writer who understood that his reading audience would largely be composed of children. Lewis never shielded his readers from the reality of violence. Nor did he dwell on it unnecessarily.

The Caspian producers seemed intent on making a kind of Lord of the Rings film, filled with epic battles and fairly graphic violence. While it's a mistake to dismiss the Narnia novels as "children's literature"--they are great literature which I never encountered until I was an adult and yet came to love then as my favorite fiction of all time, their fantasy has a different feel from that in the Tolkien novels. Where the Ring stories are dense and clearly pitched to more mature readers, the Narnia books are more readily digested by younger minds and imaginations. I didn't feel that the makers of the Caspian film respected that when it came to violence.

And as to romance, while it's true that in Lewis' novels, Susan would ultimately betray Narnia because of her obsession with things like fashion, boys, and popularity, there is no hint that she and Caspian were attracted to one another. Here, as in the decision to turn this into an action flick, the producers seem not to have trusted the audience to accept a story that didn't include the cliche conventions of Hollywood.

(3) The film is way too long. If I lost interest in it at times, I can only imagine what families with little or no knowledge of the Narnia stories must have thought.

(4) In spite of the length though, the film spends precious little time helping us to understand the characters or why they do the things they do.

If I were to grade the Caspian film, I would give it a C+, as opposed to the Lion, Witch, and Wardrobe movie, which would garner a stirring A+.

As Fox and Walden undertake a $140-million production of Voyage of the Dawn Treader, I hope that they'll think a little less like Hollywood and a little more like Lewis. Otherwise, a series that began with the promise of bringing to life wonderful novels which had previously only been done badly on screen, will come to grief, artistically and, I think, commercially.



*If you've never read the Narnia novels, I hope that you will. I won't give away too much by speaking about Aslan here.

**You needn't be a literary genius or a believer in the God of the Bible to see how this struggle mimics that faced by Moses and the ancient Israelites in the wilderness. It took them forty years to take an eleven day trip, largely because they opted for their own good sense rather than God's leading. This same motif, in different forms, can be seen in other ancient literature as well as in myths, with all of which Lewis would have been fully conversant.

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

Rating Presidents: Not a "Parlor Game"

Historian Rick Shenkman has a point. The rating of presidents--a recent survey among historians called Abraham Lincoln our greatest president--probably doesn't even rise to the level of a parlor game. Parlor games, he says, have rules. But both historians and the public tend to rate presidents by highly movable goal posts.

I myself have been guilty of playing this game, having several years ago named my choices for the country's best presidents. (I remember that at the time, the whole country breathlessly awaited my decision.)

But I now think that, while I had good reason for picking the presidents I had on my list--my top four were Washington, Lincoln, FDR, and Eisenhower--it probably is silly to put together such ratings. The challenges facing Barack Obama, in spite of the overused rhetoric to the contrary, are not the same as those that faced Roosevelt. (The current set of presidential challenges are both less severe and more complicated than those Roosevelt dealt with, it seems.) Comparisons are tough and usually, subjective.

It's probably safe to say that Grover Cleveland was a better president than Franklin Pierce, though. (In his defense, Pierce would no doubt win any presidential tippling contest.) But generally, I suppose, it's always foolish to try comparing apples and oranges--or, Washingtons and Kennedys. Or Madisons and Wilsons.

At least that's what I think this week.

Am I a Genius?

For not taking vitamins?

This article could lead you to think so. But don't believe it!

I don't take vitamin pills, basically because every time I've started, I've found myself incapable of maintaining the habit. So, as in other areas of my life, a bad character trait--in this case, my tendency to procrastinate in the adoption of something I've been told is good for me--has spared me.

I'm willing to let the early adopters have their day in the sun. If you wait around long enough, you always look like a genius.

[Thanks to Ann Althouse for putting me on to the NYT article.]

Sunday, February 15, 2009

The Need to Get Small

[This was shared during worship with the people of Saint Matthew Lutheran Church in Logan, Ohio, earlier today.]

2 Kings 5:1-14
Once, on a vacation with Ann’s family, we found ourselves in a massive two-storey sporting goods store that seemed to have a good sale on things like sweat pants, T-Shirts, and tennis shoes. But this was a sale with a twist. To take advantage of the full discounts the store was offering, customers had to sing along with karaoke accompaniment, their voices and video images beamed all over the store packed with customers for everyone to see.

That was such a humiliating prospect for one of my brothers-in-law that, in spite of his being a thrifty guy who always looks for good deals, he was content with a smaller discount than he would have gotten had he sung for just two minutes.

Our son Philip and I felt no such hesitation. We grabbed a couple of microphones and sang one of the all-time hokiest pop songs ever: The Carpenter’s Superstar. That’s the song that Chris Farley and David Spade sang at the tops of their lungs in Tommy Boy. “Don't you remember you told me you loved me, baby? You said you'd be coming back this way again, maybe. [Here's my favorite part] Baby, baby, baby, baby, oh baby. [People actually get paid for writing stuff like this.] I love you. I really do.” Phil and I sang and cha-ching, we got our full discounts.

Now, this did happen in Las Vegas and what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, unless you’re a preacher looking for a good sermon illustration. But how many of you think that you’d sing for a packed store in order to get a discount on some clothes or shoes?

And how many of you are too Lutheran to do that?

The truth is that most of us will do almost anything to avoid public embarrassment…even me. What’s behind that?

There are lots of potential reasons, many of them altogether healthy and appropriate. But one unhealthy reason that people avoid being publicly embarrassed, I think, is the fear of belittling themselves or of being belittled by others. We are social beings. Our reputations are important to us. And the Bible agrees that they should be. Proverbs 22:1 says that, “A good reputation and respect are worth much more than silver and gold.”

But sometimes a legitimate desire to enjoy a positive reputation becomes a paranoid refusal to take risks, to try new ventures, or to honestly admit things like...

“I don’t know,”

“I don’t know how,”

“I don’t understand,”

”I’m afraid,” or

“I need help.”

We hate the idea of appearing small or helpless. And men, let’s face it, that’s especially true of us. One person has suggested that a good definition of men is, “The gender that refuses to ask for directions.”

And yet, as I read the Bible, one of the things God seems to keep insisting on is our need to get small.

Not small in achievement.

Not small in dreams.

Nor small in self-esteem.

But small compared with God. Small enough to call God Lord and to take directions from God alone. Small enough to admit that we need God for life in this world and life in the world to come.

We see that theme again in our first lesson for today, taken from Second Kings. It centers on something that happened in the life of a proud man who was widely hailed as a person of power and importance in his country. Naaman was a commander from the country of Aram, a place you and I know today as Syria. This incident took place sometime during the late ninth century BC. It happened about one-hundred years after God’s people, the nation of Israel, had split into two different kingdoms because of their hunger for power and because they couldn’t get along any more: Judah, with its religious and civic life centered on Jerusalem, in the south, and Israel, whose religious and civic life centered in Samaria, to the north.

Naaman’s country, Aram, was a powerful and frightening neighbor for Israel. As our lesson notes, Naaman often took his armies into Israel and kidnapped people to be slaves. For this and, apparently, other exploits, Naaman was a BMOC—Big Man on Campus—in Aram.

Our lesson underscores how big Naaman was in several places. He was, we’re told, “commander of the army,” “a great man and in high favor with his master [the king],” and “a mighty warrior.” You didn’t mess with Naaman.

But Naaman had a problem. He suffered from leprosy. In Biblical times, the word leprosy was used to describe a whole host of different diseases that caused skin lesions or loss of feeling, especially in the extremities, hands and feet. For people who lived in those times, leprosy was a more than a physical ailment. It was also a spiritual and social affliction.

In popular culture, people regarded leprosy as a curse from whatever deities in which they believed. Even in Israel and Judah, among God’s people, once a person was certified as suffering from leprosy, he or she was considered dirty and unfit for fellowship with God or people. For fear that others would somehow contract their disease, lepers had to leave home, family, and work behind. They were barred from worshiping. People often threw stones at them to keep them at bay. So that others could see and avoid them, lepers were required to wear torn clothing, leave their hair disheveled, and shout out, “Unclean! Unclean!” when they walked down the street. The leper lived a lonely and isolated life.

Either Naaman’s leprosy had not gotten so horrible or his status as a hero in Aram was so great that he was not yet forced to live in isolation. But it must have been humiliating for someone so powerful to deal with the whispers of condemnation behind his back, the averted eyes of those who stood in judgment of him, and the prospect of being sent away with no army to command and no one to look up to him.

Our lesson says that a little girl, a slave from Israel working in Naaman’s household, took pity on her master. She suggested that he go to Israel and see God’s prophet, Elisha, who had taken over the ministry of the more famous Elijah in about 848BC. Elisha, she said, could cure Naaman of his leprosy.

Naaman was just desperate enough to ask his king for permission to go to Samaria—Israel—to seek a cure. Going to Israel in itself must have seemed humiliating to Naaman. But as we read on, we see that he hadn’t gotten small enough in his own eyes. Both he and his king assume that it will be the king of Israel who will free him from his leprosy. He takes gifts—including silver, gold, and clothing—along with a letter from his king asking for a cure. The king of Israel is sure that it’s a pretext for picking a fight. He knows that he can’t cure leprosy and if he can’t, he’s sure that Aram will attack his country.

But then Elisha the prophet gets wind of Naaman’s visit. Elisha sends word by way of a servant that Naaman should come to his place. Naaman expected to be given the royal treatment by Elisha. But instead, cooling his heels outside of Elisha’s house, Naaman is given Elisha’s instructions through a servant. “Go, wash yourself seven times in the muddy Jordan River.” This is the last straw for Naaman, utter humiliation. How small should he be expected to become? The Jordan, he complains, is a creek—or a crick—compared to the great rivers back in Aram!

Finally though, Naaman is convinced to follow Elisha’s directives and he is healed, this great man suddenly having the “flesh of a young boy.” Naaman learned something that Jesus would tell His disciples some nine-hundred years later, “Unless you have the faith of a child—until you get smaller than God and trust in Me—you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.” Naaman humbled himself to receive the healing God offered through His prophet. More importantly, this foreigner came to believe in God, entering the Kingdom of God. You and I need to be small enough to embrace the great promises of Jesus to be with us today and to give all who repent for sin and trust in Him eternity.

We also need to subordinate ourselves to Christ to lead the kinds of useful lives God has in mind for each of us. This is a lesson God has had to teach me repeatedly.

Years ago, I chaired the planning committee for the assembly of the Northwest Ohio Synod of our Evangelical Lutheran Church in America. It involved planning everything surrounding the annual get-together of about 200 churches and it turned out to be an extraordinary event. People left the assembly excited. The feedback was almost universal as people told us, “That’s the best and most useful church convention we’ve ever attended.” In spite of all the good feelings though, I was bummed. The bishop hadn’t taken the time to tell everybody what a wonderful job I had done, or how hard I had worked, or how it had been my vision that had been executed in that convention. (Can you imagine that?) But one day, as I was sitting in my office, praying, a thought crossed my mind, a thought I’m certain came from God: “Who were you doing all of this for, hotshot, you or Me?”

Naaman learned that all the honors of the world mean little. But he also learned, as many of you have in a lifetime of following the God we know in Jesus Christ, the truth of James’ words in the New Testament: “Humble yourselves in the sight of the Lord, and he shall lift you up" (James 4:10).

May you be lifted up as you surrender each day to Christ. Amen

Saturday, February 14, 2009

When Cheever and Updike Were on Late Night Talk: The Opposite of Entertainment is Not Education

One-time late night talk host Dick Cavett writes about welcoming John Cheever and John Updike as guests on his show in 1981. I remembered this incident recently in comments at Ann Althouse's blog. I couldn't find it on Youtube at the time of Updike's recent death. Cavett and the Times have posted it.

While Cavett's show seemed to drive Johnny Carson's Tonight Show to Hollywood and show-biziness as a way of defining and separating itself, it shouldn't be forgotten that even under Carson and before that, Jack Paar, late night talk shows once delved into depthy subjects. Paar interviewed people like Martin Luther King, Jr. Carson once spent an hour and a half on his show debating and demolishing the half-witted, inflammatory assertions of a conspiracy in the assassination of John F. Kennedy offered by New Orleans district attorney Jim Garrison in a Tonight Show interview. He also welcomed scientists, theologians, and politicians to talk with him, sandwiched between the stand-up comics, musicians, and actors that have always been standard late night fare.

Cavett could be pretentious and wordy. (Not to mention nerdy and egregiously deferential to anyone he regarded as a legend.) But I might check out a late night talk show more than once every six months or so if we had a bit more meat amid the bread and circuses that we see with Letterman, Leno, and all. Leno, Letterman, O'Brien, and others of their ilk are smart people. No doubt about it. I just wish that they'd devote themselves and their shows to more than just making us laugh.

As I once heard an accomplished preacher say, "The opposite of entertainment is not education." Nor of erudition.

Friday, February 13, 2009

What's Up with Joaquin?

I was up late on Wednesday night and channel-surfed through about two minutes of David Letterman's attempt at interviewing Joaquin Phoenix. I found it tiresome, as I'm sure Letterman did.

On Thursday, I see here and there that people are wondering, "What's wrong with Joaquin?"

Maybe not much. He may be involved in a bit of anti-marketing, Joaquin doing his best Andy Kaufman.

It makes sense. Kaufman could be tiresome, too. But he attracted attention.

Phoenix's occasional involuntary smirks--in response to Leterman's funny crack about the Unabomber, for example--seem to betray an actor trying to stay "in character." Or an actor trying to send the message, "I don't want to do publicity tours."

On the other hand, Phoenix may really be that troubled.

Either way, he'll sell some tickets to his newest movie.

But the video below is painful.

Thursday, February 12, 2009

Study confirms...

what I could have told you. Hey, wait a minute, I did tell you.

Happy Valentine's Day.

File this under "even a blind squirrel finds a nut sometimes," with me being the squirrel who identifies an important truth.

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

"Welcoming" the New Administration

Certainly instability born of the disconnect between the Afghan government and its people to which President Obama alluded in his news conference several days ago is at play in a suicide attack on the Ministry of Justice in Kabul.

But there's another factor as well. The Taliban and their allies obviously also are welcoming the new administration in Washington, testing the new president's mettle, and sending a message that they haven't given up fighting.

The attack comes just before Obama's representative, Ambassador Richard Holbrooke, is scheduled to arrive in Kabul.

Just before that, a secular Pakistani legislator was killed by a bomb in the same city that Holbrooke was visiting at that very moment.

Of course, the attacks aren't meant not only to send a message to the new administration, which appears prepared to undertake the war in Afghanistan and the war on Taliban and al-Qaeda enclaves in Pakistan with new urgency, more troops, and greater firepower. The attacks are also meant to be a warning to Pakistanis and Afghans against collaboration with the United States in the fight against radical Islamist terror groups.

This all would seem to underscore the need for the US to pursue a policy akin to that used in Iraq during the recent surge. It was accompanied by efforts to pacify enemies and would-be enemies, often through the payment of what can fairly be described as protection money to local war lords. The pacification program also included frequent foot patrols and interaction with local populations, fostering trust and quelling enmity.

During the recent presidential campaign, now Vice President Joe Biden famously predicted that early on, his boss would be tested by international troublemakers. Biden didn't need to be a seer to say that. It always happens to new presidents.

But in consideration of this test, Obama may be inclined to look up from days filled with multiple crises and tell the Taliban, "Take a number." Unfortunately, he won't have that luxury.

Lincoln's Second Inaugural Address

The two-hundredth anniversary of Abraham Lincoln's birth comes tomorrow. A few years back, I wrote a seven-part series on Lincoln's second Inaugural Address, which I see as a sermon. Here are links to all seven posts:
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

A Look at This Sunday's Bible Lessons (February 15, 2009)

[This coming Sunday's Bible lessons for Saint Matthew Lutheran Church in Logan, Ohio, where I serve as pastor, will be the same as the lessons in many churches around the world. Hopefully, these notes will help folks prepare for worship.]

The Sixth Sunday after Epiphany

The Bible Lessons:
2 Kings 5:1-14
Psalm 30
1 Corinthians 9:24-27
Mark 1:40-45

Comments:
Here are a few thoughts on the lesson from 2 Kings which I shared on January 20, with a group of pastors with whom my son (who starts seminary this summer) and I meet each month:
1. It’s unfortunate that this pericope stops where it does. The next few verses beyond present an argument for the universality for Israel’s God and Elisha’s problematic acquiescence to Naaman’s intention to worship the Syrian version of Baal alongside his king back home. But this is a rich text even without following the incident through v.19.

2. Aram, of course, is Syria. Speculation is that this incident occurred in about 850BC, during the reigns of Ben-hadad in Aram and Jehoram in Israel.

3. There’s no evidence of Hansen’s Disease in Israel or nearby countries in these ancient days and only a few incidents of it in Jesus’ time. The term of leprosy was applied to many different skin diseases. (Hansen’s Disease can be treated, but not cured by conventional methods.)

4. Vv.1 and 2 present several interesting juxtapositions. First, there’s the irony of Naaman himself: He’s a mighty general, but he’s afflicted with a skin disease which, if unchecked, will eventually make him a pariah unfit for society. Second, there’s the stark contrast between this powerful general on the one hand and the little foreign slave girl in his household. As Paul says, “When I am weak, then I am strong.”

5. Another stunning thing in v.1 is the revelation that the God of Israel had given Naaman his victories over Israel. This both hints at the universality of God’s reign and the judgment of God against His people in history.

6. It’s intriguing that this foreign slave girl, so insignificant she isn’t even named, shows concern for the man who enslaved her. (v.3)

7. It’s equally intriguing that Naaman is so desperate for a cure that he takes the advice of the slave girl seriously. It’s not the last time in this incident when Naaman will take the advice of his social inferiors (v.13).

8. Naaman gathers gifts to take to Israel (v.5). His is typical religious behavior, religion being humanity’s attempt to placate or please gods. He’s going to get a lesson not only about the presence of God in his prophet, as Elisha has it (v.8), but also that God’s gifts are free.

9. The reaction of the king of Israel (vv.6-7) is understandable. Aram had often attacked Israel, making it a vassal kingdom. It was perfectly logical to think that Aram was creating a pretext for yet another attack. The king knows that he can’t bring about the healing of Naaman.

10. V.9 is sort of a powerplay. Think of the scene in The Right Stuff when Vice President Lyndon Johnson goes to the house of astronaut John Glenn in order to offer comfort to his wife during a crisis point in the flight of Friendship 7. Annie Glenn refused to see Johnson and the Vice President of the United States is portrayed as having a first class temper tantrum in his limo. Like Naaman, the great man wasn’t treated with the deference to which he thought he was entitled.

11. Of course, with his expectations of personal deference and of a religious transaction, Naaman is highly offended by Elisha’s instructions in v.10. Referencing another movie: Think of Ranch Wilder in the 1994 remake of Angels in the Outfield. “You can’t fire me. I have a contract!” Ranch bellows, “I’m Ranch Wilder!” “You can’t expect me to do something so insignificant as dunking myself seven times in the muddy Jordan!” Naaman says (v.12). Like many people offended by grace and the idea of God working in small ways and places, Naaman would rather head back to Syria without being healed than experience the humiliation of so small an act (v.13). This really could have resulted in war.

12. Good semitic argument, which Jesus often used, ran this way: If this small thing, then how much more this big thing? This was, for example, Jesus’ argument about God’s willingness to answer prayer: If you, who are evil, respond compassionately to the requests of your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give you the Holy Spirit when you pray?

Naaman’s servants turn this arument form on its head…and make absolute sense in the process (v.13). “If Elisha had asked you to do some great thing, you wouldn’t refuse. Then, why refuse this little thing?”

Naaman had to get small, deny self, to experience God’s charity. As long as he held that as a BMOC, he needed to be in charge of things, he was too big to be helped.

13. Seven dunks in the Jordan and Naaman’s whole body was as soft as a baby’s bottom (v.14). He was rendered “clean” because leprosy was regarded as a dirty thing.
Here are some verse-by-verse comments, which I wrote three years ago, on the lesson from Mark:
v. 40: This is the first overt expression of faith in Christ that we find in Mark's Gospel. At most, faith is implied in Mark 1:30 and of course, in the silent witness of the Capernaum crowds who came to seek healing (Mark 1:32-33). Although it should be said that in both cases, there is reason to wonder whether what's being expressed is faith. At this point in the Gospel, the crowds are not responding to Jesus as a matter of trust in Him as the Messiah Who will suffer and die for them and call them to die to self in order to rise to new life with God. Not even Jesus' first four disciples--Andrew, Simon, James, and John--appear to have an understanding of Jesus that would qualify for the Biblical term of faith (pistis in the Greek of the New Testament, a word that means trust. Rather, the incipient faith we see here demonstrated is rooted in the belief that Jesus is a miracle worker who will give them what they want.

But the leper's belief in Jesus is different from what we've heretofore encountered in Mark's account. There's a note of "Your will be done" in his words. "If you choose," he tells Jesus. This is submission. In that word, if, the leper also recognizes that Jesus is sovereign, that Jesus doesn't have to heal unless He chooses to do so, and that it's possible that a sovereign God may allow suffering to happen in the lives of believers. Tough stuff, but very mature. (God grant me such maturity of faith!) This is the sort of real and unflinching faith I often observe in people who have suffered.

Leprosy was regarded as more than merely a biological ailment. The leper was "unclean," unfit for participation in social or religious life. This is why the Old Testament book of Leviticus had clear guidelines on how one who had suffered from leprosy could have the restoration of their cleanness, and their restoration to religious and community life, certified. The certification was done not by a physician, but by a priest at the Temple in Jerusalem.

It's a measure of Jesus' perceived compassion that the leper feels that he can approach Jesus. In those days, people were so paranoid about being near a person with leprosy, for fear of physical and spiritual contamination, that they would throw stones at lepers to keep them at bay. We no doubt see a contemporary version of this in the attitudes of some toward those infected with the AIDS virus.

v. 41: The most jarring words in this verse are: "Jesus...touched him..." This was a scandalous no-no.

Jesus did choose to heal the leper, underscoring what I mentioned earlier, that healing is always at the discretion of a sovereign God.

v. 42: "Immediately" again. Mark's frequent use of this term emphasizes several things: (1) the immediacy of God's presence in Christ; (2) the capacity and desire of Jesus to work with urgency in our lives; (3) the rapidity with which Jesus moved from meteoric superstar to rejected Messiah.

v. 44: Once again here, we see an example of what's known as Mark's "messianic secret." Until Jesus has gone through cross and resurrection, the crowds are inclined to see Him as nothing more than a kewpie doll, a miracle-maker bound to do their bidding and provide them with pleasure. But Jesus has not come into our lives to give us lives of ease. He has come to be the road to our everlasting transformation.

This is what will happen in the lives of those who turn from sin (repent) and trust in Jesus and the good news about Him (Mark 1:15). As Dietrich Bonhoeffer, the Lutheran martyr killed by the Nazis in the waning days of World War Two, pointed out, new life and forgiveness are gifts we cannot earn for all with faith in Jesus Christ.

These things come to us as grace, the Bible's word for the charity God grants to undeserving people like you and me. They're gifts and they are free. ("For by grace you have been saved through faith, and this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God—not the result of works, so that no one may boast," Paul writes in Ephesians 2:8-9).

But, as Bonhoeffer goes on to point out, if we accept these gifts, doing so will cost us our lives, the lives we're accustomed to living. We cannot take up Christ without laying down our self-absorption and self-protection. There is a difference, Bonhoeffer shows, between "cheap grace"--anything goes-ism without personal transformation--and "costly grace," embracing Christ's gifts by laying down our whole lives in surrender.

Until we understand the difference between cheap and costly grace, to speak about Jesus as the Messiah is meaningless babble.

And so, Jesus doesn't want the healed leper to proclaim Jesus as the Messiah yet.

But there's a second reason that Jesus tells the leper not to tell anybody about how he had been cleansed. He wants the man to go through the certification process alluded to earlier and which is detailed in Leviticus 18 and 19. Remember: Jesus didn't come to abolish God's laws, but to be their pure and complete fulfiller. He expected the cleansed leper to abide by those laws.

v. 45: But the cleansed leper couldn't keep his mouth shut. Jesus' fame spread even more.
I may have more to share on the lessons later in the week.

Sunday, February 08, 2009

Christ Heals...But Why?

[This was shared during worship with the people of Saint Matthew Lutheran Church in Logan, Ohio today.]

Mark 1:29-39
Some people may hear the Gospel lesson for this morning and say, “That’s nice. Jesus healed Simon’s mother-in-law and others. Why doesn’t He heal people today?”

The answer, of course, is that He does.

In an October 25, 1999, article you can find online at The Archives of Internal Medicine, seven physicians, a hospital chaplain, a social worker, and a scholar, associated with leading hospitals from around the country, presented the findings of their research on the connection between intercessory prayer—intercessory prayer is prayer offered on behalf of others--and the recovery of coronary patients. The researchers set up what’s known as a “double blind” experiment on those recovering from heart problems. There were 990 patients in the study. Prayers were said for some of them. Prayers were not offered for the others. The doctors treating the patients didn’t know who was chosen to be prayed for and the subjects of the prayers didn’t know either. But a list of first names was given to people in local churches who prayed for those on the list each day. Neither the people doing the praying, nor the people being prayed for, nor the researchers knew who had been chosen to be the target of prayer. And what happened? Those for whom prayers were said recovered more quickly. As the researchers put it in the conclusion of their abstract, “This result suggests that prayer may be an effective adjunct to standard medical care.” (1)

Now, if this were an isolated study, it wouldn’t mean much. But in recent decades, literally hundreds of objective scientific studies, conducted at major hospitals and universities, have been done looking into the connection between things like faith, prayer, and worship attendance on the one hand and healing and health on the other. The results are stunning.

A few examples: A 1972 study of 91,909 people in Washington County, Maryland “found that those who attended church once or more a week had significantly lower death rates from…coronary-artery disease (50 percent reduction), emphysema (56 percent reduction), cirrhosis of the liver (74 percent reduction), suicide (53 percent reduction).” (2)

“A 1978 study of 355 men in Evans County, Georgia showed that those who attended church one or more times per week had significantly lower blood-pressure readings than individuals who attended church less often. The positive link between church attendance and lower blood pressure held up even if the church attenders were smokers!” (2)

Now, I know that I’m preaching to the choir here. Many of you in this sanctuary this morning would affirm that the God we know in Jesus Christ is still in the healing business. Certainly, God uses doctors, nurses, and other health care professionals to bring His healing. But, as study after study has confirmed, their efforts are enhanced by prayer. In my nearly twenty-five years as a pastor, I’ve learned that most health care professionals know this. One surgeon I met years ago made a point of asking when I would be joining the patient he was operating on for prayer before surgery. “I want to be there when you pray,” he told me. “And would you please pray for me, too?” I was happy to do that.

God is still in the healing business. In his book, The Faith Factor, Dr. Dale A. Matthews tells the true story of Barbara, who suffered from cancer. Barbara was in worship one Sunday at the Epicopal church she attended when the priest read the Gospel of Mark’s account of the woman who had been hemorrhaging for twelve years, but not wanting to call attention to herself, believed that if she touched the hem of Jesus’ garment as He passed, she would be healed. As Barbara prepared to go to the altar to receive Holy Communion, a thought crossed her mind: “I could be like her.”

She looked at her priest who was, she thought, “standing in” for Jesus as He presided over the Eucharist. “She decided that she would touch the priest’s robe when he gave her the communion wafer.” As Barbara tells it: “I touched his robe, and he couldn’t have known that I did, though he did know about my cancer. He did something in that moment that I had never seen him do before: he put down the paten with the communion wafers and came over to me; laying both hands on my head, he prayed for my healing.”

Barbara wasn’t healed instantly. But she knew that God was healing her. As she explains it, though at that point her healing wasn’t physical, her heart was healed. “I had complete trust in God and his love, something he knew I needed far more than any other kind of healing at the moment.”

Of course, you and I know that not every one for whom we pray is healed. And even more than that, as Pastor Mark Dahle, a Lutheran pastor with a ministry of healing at La Jolla Lutheran Church in San Diego, reminds us, we know that everybody for whom we pray will eventually die. We live in a fallen world. Death comes, as does suffering of all kinds. Faith in Jesus is no insurance policy against the reality of living in a dying world.

So, why did Jesus heal Simon’s mother-in-law and the others our Gospel lesson tells us He healed? Why does Jesus heal today?

We get at least one answer to that question from an interchange that happens between Simon and Jesus before the dawn, after Jesus has prayed.

It had been a busy Sabbath for Jesus. After worshiping and teaching in the synagogue at Capernaum—where, you’ll remember from last week’s Gospel lesson, He had cast out a demon--He’d gone to the house of Simon and Andrew for dinner, healed Simon’s mother-in-law, cured many who were sick, cast out more demons, and then before sun-up, prayed. While He was praying, Simon and the others hunted Jesus down. They clearly wanted Jesus to go back to the scene of so much triumph and success. Instead, Jesus tells them, “Let us go on to the neighboring towns, so that I may proclaim the message there also. For that is what I came out to do.”

For Jesus, healing was never an end. It was only a means.

John’s Gospel constantly refers to Jesus’ healings and other miracles as signs. Signs point to something more significant, more meaningful than themselves. The miracles of Jesus point us to the simple, powerful fact that Jesus has power over life, death, suffering, disease, sin, the devil, our sinful selves, and every other one of our enemies.

What Jesus came to do during His time on earth was share a plain message, one that will change our lives forever if we let it. He says, “Turn from sin—repent—and trust in Me to give you life forever—fuller life today and totally new, restored life forever with God.”

Repent. Trust. That’s Jesus’ message in a nutshell. Its validity is underscored by HIs miracles, by His suffering death on our behalf, and by His resurrection.

Jesus once asked a rhetorical question. “What good is it,” He asked, “to gain the world and all its wealth, but lose your life?” Today’s lesson, I think, asks a similar question: “What good is it to have perfect health, but lose your eternal life?”

Jesus Christ heals. And the ultimate healing, the one that matters for all eternity, is the healing of our broken relationships with God, with others, and with our selves. The healing Christ brings to those who repent and believe in Him will be our joy for all eternity. It can also be our comfort, our strength, and our hope even now.

(1) I had heard of this research before. But I'm grateful to Father Andrew Greeley for pointing to it.

(2) These are cited in a book by Dr. Dale A. Matthews, here. Dr. Larry Dossey also has spent years cataloging scientific studies specifically showing the connection between prayer and healing. Both Matthews and Dossey are physicians.

Lately...

I've been enjoying this blog.

Wednesday, February 04, 2009

A Look at This Coming Sunday's Bible Lessons (February 8, 2009)

[Most weeks, I share a little background on the Bible lessons around which worship will be built the following Sunday at Saint Matthew Lutheran Church in Logan, Ohio, where I'm the pastor. Because we use the lessons appointed by the Revised Common Lectionary, I hope that more than just Saint Matthew folks will find the background helpful in getting ready for worship.]

Fifth Sunday after Epiphany
The Bible Lessons:
Isaiah 40:21-31
Psalm 147:1-11, 20c
1 Corinthians 9:16-23
Mark 1:29-39

Comments
Isaiah 40:21-31: Most contemporary scholars believe that Isaiah was written by one, two, or three different prophets, each at different points in ancient Israel's history. Chapter 40 comes at the end of the first chapter in the section associated with Deutero Isaiah or Second Isaiah.

It was written after Israel returned from exile, during the period chronicled in Ezra and Nehemiah, when the confidence of the people was faltering, along with their commitment to rebuilding Jerusalem or the temple.

Isaiah 40:1-11 recounted "the glorious procession back to Jerusalem." But, as we've been reminded in just the past few weeks, wonderful Inaugurations are followed by hard, sometimes daunting, work. In the face of adversity and even taunting opposition, the returned Judean exiles needed to be reminded that their God wasn't some puny regional deity. Yahweh (I AM) was the God of all creation Who, for His own mysterious purposes, chose Israel to be a light to the nations and, as it would develop, the national family from which the Savior of the world would come.

God's people were allowing themselves to panic and be intimidated by powerful people "Scarcely...planted, scarcely sown, scarcely [rooted]..." who must, by necessity, bend to the power and the will of God. This was the God Who had allowed His people to be exiled, Who sustained them while they were exiled, and Who brought them back. That God would help them now.

"Have you not known? Have you not heard? The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth...He gives power to the faint, and strengthens the powerless..."

It's a good word for us today.

Psalm 147:1-11, 20c: This too, was obviously composed in the period of rebuilding Jerusalem and the temple. It too exhorts believers to claim their confidence in God and points to God's power and wisdom.

Of particular interest to me is v.10. "God is not impressed by the might of a horse, and has no pleasure in the speed of a runner."

In the ancient world, horses provided the greatest advantage to armies at war. Horses transported cavalries, facilitated the movement of supplies and messages, and provided needed muscle. Horses then, were symbols of military power, like ICBMs, tanks, or massive transport planes are today.

As symbols of military might, God's people also saw horses as symbols of their own enslavement. The Egyptians, after allowing Moses and the Hebrews to leave slavery in their land, chased after them with their cavalry. The Hebrews celebrated when, after parting and re-closing the opening in the Red Sea, Pharaoh's armies were destroyed: horses, riders, and chariots swallowed by the water. Later, marauding, horse-borne armies would conquer their land.

Horses were also a symbol of wealth and decadence: King Solomon, who had been blessed by God with wisdom, power, and wealth, owned many racehorses while he countenanced the splintering of Israel's loyalty to God through the worship of many deities.

Horses--and all that they symbolized--were undeniably powerful, the psalmist was saying. But they were no match for the power of the God Who long ago promised, "I am the Lord, your God."

"the runner": The foot race is probably the oldest of all sports. Fast runners--right up to Santonio Holmes--have always been honored. Runners symbolize human beings at the height of their power and health. But God isn't impressed by them.

God finds pleasure, instead, "in those who fear the Lord, in those who await God's steadfast love."

About both Isaiah 40:21-31 and Psalm 147:1-11, 20c: N.T. Wright points out the "exile and homecoming" are the great themes of the Old Testament. For their sin, Adam and Eve were exiled from Eden. This was to avoid their eating from the fruit of the tree of life which would, tragically, have allowed them to live in eternal separation from God and others. It would have meant eternal suffering. Through exile, God prepared them--and us--for restoration and return to God's kingdom.

The theme played out repeatedly in Israel's history. In the New Testament, First Peter asserts that this pattern continues. We are, Peter says, exiles and strangers living in a fallen world filled with haunting hints of the life we are meant to live, life with God. Jesus Christ makes it possible for us to experience homecoming with God.

1 Corinthians 9:16-23: In last week's lesson from 1 Corinthians, Paul talked about not using our Christian freedom as license and thereby weakening the faith of newer believers in Christ. Paul expands on that theme here, really.

Earlier, he underscored his authority as an apostle and preacher because he had encountered the risen Jesus. He claimed that he was fully entitled to financial support from the churches for his work. But Paul makes clear here that he has no intention of pushing for his rights. He will voluntarily cede his rights in order to remove any impediments to his ministry of proclaiming the gospel--the good news--of new life for all who follow Jesus Christ.

This seems like a good place to say a word about clergy compensation. I have never thought of the salary, benefits, and housing allowance package that I receive as a pastor as something that I earn. I've always seen them as an allowance. God has gifted me to be a pastor and the Church has called me to do it on a full-time basis. I didn't come from a wealthy background, so I couldn't afford to pastor full time without an allowance. That's what the Church provides for me.

This is also why I tell people not to give me any money for weddings or funerals. These are pastoral acts. I'm already receiving my allowance, I explain. (Of course, many people have ignored me over the years and given me an honorarium they're determined to give anyway. To people who insist on an honorarium, I will suggest that they give something to the church or a local charity.) Like Paul, I don't want money to get in between my relationship with people to whom and with whom I've been called to do ministry.

Paul says that he will become all things to all people in order to win some to Christ. In other words, he closely identifies with the people with whom he shares Christ. This doesn't mean that they adopted various communities' favorite sins. It means that he shared in their weaknesses, challenges, joys, and excitement in order to win the privilege of sharing Christ with them.

This is something we need to learn to do as Christians who interact each day with people who need Christ.

Mark 1:29-39: This passage really is a continuation of the narrative of last Sunday's Gospel lesson. It picks up where that passage left off: the Sabbath day in Capernaum at the beginning of Jesus' ministry.

vv.30-31: As the eldest woman in the house, Simon Peter's mother-in-law, enjoyed a status of preeminence. Her illness prevented her from performing the esteemed duties of matron of the house, including serving important visitors. As New Testament scholar and feminist Pheme Perkins points out, in restoring the woman's health, Jesus wasn't only making her physically well, he was also restoring her status of importance in the household. Perkins (cited here) writes:
Many women today react negatively to the picture of a woman getting up after a severe illness to serve male guests. That sentiment hardly seems appropriate to the complex gender and social roles involved in the household. Certainly, Peter's wife or a female servant may have prepared food. The privilege of showing hospitality to important guests falls to Peter's mother-in-law as a matter of honor, not servitude. We even exhibit similar behavior. When special guests are expected for dinner, no one gets near the kitchen without clearance form the person who has the privilege of preparing the food.
One other thing. In saying that the fever left her, Mark uses the verb apheken, a form of the verb aphiemi. It can be literally translated as release and in the New Testament is most commonly translated as forgive: In forgiveness, the forgiven is released from all debts to the one wronged. (The forgiver is also released from all biterness against the wrongdoer.) When we accept God's forgiveness, we're released from our bondage to sin and to death.

In consideration of the many places at which aphiemi is used in the New Testament, Brian Stoffregen writes this amazing paragraph:
The word seems to denote a drastic change from what was before to the present. It is a "letting go" of something in order to move on -- whether that is a person leaving or letting go of family or jobs; or sicknesses and sins leaving a person. It would seem that neither family, job, sickness, nor sins, are to control one's present life. They have been "left behind." I have begun to define "forgiveness," as "Not letting what happened in the past control my life in the present." It is leaving the past behind. It is letting go of past events, relationships, actions, etc., so that they no longer control life now. It is starting today fresh and new.
Jesus' healing of Simon's mother-in-law points to Jesus as the giver of fresh, new starts. When we seek forgiveness in Jesus' Name, we can be confident that we are forgiven. We need to learn from our sins, but in Christ, in the words of that old Billy Joel song, "all your past sins are since passed."

vv.32-33: In the preceding verses, Jesus had cast out demons and healed the sick. Now crowds similarly afflicted come to Him.

v.34: Why didn't Jesus allow the demons to speak? They would have, as the demon in last week's lesson did, proclaimed Jesus as the Messiah. By this early point in Mark's narrative, people were already in danger of following Jesus not because His miraculous signs pointed to Him as the Savior but simply for the signs themselves. Jesus didn't come to be a good luck charm. His miracles were meant to point to His identity and to underscore His authority to call people to repent and to believe in the good news.

Proclaiming this good--and eternity-changing--news was always more important to Jesus than taking away a physical or emotional ailment that would, at most, only last through this lifetime.

In Mark 2, Jesus will return to Capernaum, which seems to have been His launching point for a time. There, a group of men will lower a paralytic man down through the roof of Simon Peter's house in order to be healed by Jesus. But the first thing that Jesus says to the man isn't, "Be healed." Instead, Jesus forgives the man's sins. When this meets with a horrified response from the religious legalists, Jesus asks which they think is harder: to tell someone they're healed or to forgive sins? While that question is sinking in, Jesus says that in order to demonstrate that He has the authority to forgive sin, He will heal the man.

As much as we want all people to be healed, not all people will experience healing. In fact, as Pastor Mark Dahle points out in his interesting book on the subject of healing, everyone for whom we seek healing from God will eventually die. But Jesus' healing--and I know of many instances of healing that can only be explained by answer to prayers offered in Jesus' Name--is a sign of His power over life and death...and His power to give life to all who repent and believe in the good news.

Jesus' shutting up the demons, these fallen angels, from testifying about who He was--the Messiah, the Son of God--may not make sense to us. But as Hugh Anderson says:
His...way is inherently ambiguous. It does not compel everyone's recognition and assent, for the presence of God is hidden in it. It therefore always requires faith to be at risk and discipleship to be a costly venture.
v.35: Of course, the great take-away from this passage is that if Jesus, God in the flesh, needed to be in constant contact with God the Father in order to live each day, how much more do we need to be in touch with God?

vv.36-37: Hugh Anderson writes:
Since the Greek word for followed [katedioxen] here usually has the sense of 'pursuing in hostile fashion,' and that for searching [zetousin] occurs nine times in Mark in the sense of 'seeking someone out for wrong motives,' we have the first suggestion in [the Gospel of] Mark of the blindness of the disciples.
Just like the crowds, the disciples want Jesus to do party tricks, too. They have no sense that Jesus has come to deal with deeper issues than whether they're physically healthy, politically free, or economically advantaged. Jesus has come to deal with the sin in all of us that prevents us from enjoying pure, healthy, joyous relationships with God, with others, and with ourselves. For that kind of healing to come to us, we must acknowledge our sinfulness, our sins, and our need of Christ.

v.38: Jesus refuses to be held captive to the expectations of the crowd. He came to proclaim God's liberation from sin and death for all people. So, as good as it must have felt to be so wanted, Jesus told the disciples that they neede to hit the road, at least for a time.

v.39: In spite of the temptation in the accolades for His miracles, Jesus continues to do what He was called to do. He knows that the greatest cause of failure is success.

When we become enamored of the adulation of the crowd, we're at risk of moving in the wrong direction. Jesus' faithfulness will eventually earn Him a cross. The bitterly disappointed crowds will, in a short while, cry for His blood and the cowardly religious and secular authorities will gladly comply with their desire to kill the Messiah they find so threatening. In playing to the crowds, they unwittingly acquiesced in helping Jesus fulfill His mission of dying and rising to bring good news to a world in need of being made new.

Sunday, February 01, 2009

Bless This Mess

[This message was shared during worship with the people of Saint Matthew Lutheran Church in Logan, Ohio, this morning.]

Mark 1:21-28
There are three main things to which I think today’s Gospel lesson point us.

The first is the power of Jesus’ teaching. The telephone call came, as happens so often in crisis situations, in the middle of the night. This was in my first parish. “Pastor,” the person on the other end of the line said, “We had to bring Mike to the hospital. Could you come up?”

I wasn’t surprised. Mike’s life was a mess. Apparently, all of his issues--emotional, psychological, spiritual, and medical--had come to a crisis. When Mike revealed during his intake interview at the hospital that he’d recently had thoughts of suicide, state law mandated that he remain hospitalized, even against his will.

I was there when the doctor revealed this to Mike. Folks, if I live to be a hundred-and-twenty, I will never forget the venom that spewed from Mike’s mouth at that. He acted like a cornered animal. It wasn’t just what he said, it was how he said it. There was menace in his posture, as though at any moment, he might pounce on any one of us.

Mike was admitted to the hospital for treatment and I know that all the counseling that he received in subsequent weeks helped him. But what helped most was a little devotional booklet that a friend gave to him. Every day, Mike read the booklet and the Biblical passage on which it was based. The book became dog-eared and worn during his weeks in the hospital. I remember during many a visit glancing over at him and seeing him gently move his finder over the binding of the book, so important had its contents become to him. Like many people through the centuries, Mike had moved to a place of sufficient desperation to actually pay attention to God’s Word.

This relates to our Gospel lesson: The people in the synagogue in Capernaum, where Jesus was visiting and may have even lived for a time, were “astounded" by Jesus. The original New Testament Greek says literally that they “were blown out of their minds.” The reason for their reaction, our lesson says, is that Jesus taught with “authority.” That word in Greek is exousia, which can also be translated as power. There was power and authority in Jesus’ teaching.

New Testament scholars believe that the teaching that the synagogue crowd heard from Jesus was the same teaching Jesus shared with people at the very beginning of His ministry, teaching that was summarized in words appearing in last week’s Gospel lesson: “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news.”

That’s so simple. Where’s the Wow factor? What would cause the crowd to be “blown out of their minds”?

You know the answer. As we said last week, Jesus’ Word--the Word of God--has power. When Mike heard that Word and read it and thought about it, a transformation began to happen in his life. And I believe that every time that you and I encounter God’s Word--when we truly allow ourselves to pay attention to that Word--transformations can happen.

This brings up the second thing that I want to mention regarding today’s Gospel lesson: Jesus’ teaching can call out of our lives whatever prevents us from experiencing God’s wholeness, whatever keeps us from living life with God.

That’s what happened in the synagogue in Capernaum. In the middle of Jesus’ teaching there, a man filled with a demon, a spiritual agent of the devil, showed up, disrupting everything. Apparently referring to his demon buddies, the demon, speaking through the man he possessed, asked Jesus if He had come to get all of them. “I know who you, Jesus: the Holy One of God.”

Jesus was not about to let a demon teach people at worship in a synagogue about His identity as God in the flesh. That’s something all of us must come to by faith in the crucified and risen Jesus.

Besides, whenever the devil, the sin in the world, or our sinful selves talk about Jesus, the talk always has a spin designed to undermine our faith.

That’s why Jesus called out to the demon: “Be silent! Come out of him!” Jesus called the thing that was enslaving that man out, so that the man could be free.

And whatever it is that’s enslaving you—it may be a seemingly minor thing like a habit that prevents you from being the person God made you to be, Christ can do the same thing for you.

Young people, the Savior Who went to a cross and rose from the dead for you can give you a healthy self-esteem.

Middle age folks, caught in a rut, He can help you live with contentment and joy.

Older folks, dogged by a sense of your limitations, He can overcome your self-doubts and help you use your wisdom and experience for good.

Jesus and His Word have authority. Jesus and His Word can call the worst from out of us and set us free to be with Him now and forever. Here’s the third thing I want to point out from our Gospel lesson and it may be the most important thing: When Jesus works in our lives, our lives won’t always be easy. Martin Luther said that the believer in Jesus Christ is the Holy Spirit's workshop.

No matter how neat the carpenter, I’ve never seen a woodworking shop that didn’t get messy while the carpenter was making something. Wood shavings from the lathe and dust from the table saw are on the floor. As Jesus works on us, removing what separates us from God's goodness and forging and shaping our characters, things will get messy.

There are times when we don’t understand what God is doing in our lives. We resist and our faith falters.

There are moments when it’s easier to adopt the world’s ways, rather than God’s ways. We cave into selfishness.

When the chaos and confusion of our imperfect lives are submitted to the perfect love and order of Jesus Christ, the encounter can be messy. When Jesus called the demon out of the man at the Capernaum synagogue, it convulsed and cried and yelped. The evil in that man wouldn't give up without a fight!

Sinful habits and compulsions, just like all habits and compulsions, are hard to break. That’s because, as somebody has said, we form our habits and after a while, our habits form us. They get a grip on us. They wear ruts in our brains and lives.

The confrontation between Jesus’ word, which brings new life and freedom from old ways, and our sinful habits is not just explosive, but thoroughly, disturbingly unsettling and messy.

A man came to see me once. “I’m stealing from my company,” he told me, “and I know it’s wrong. But I can’t stop.” So far as I know, he never did stop. He had heard Jesus call out the evil into which he’d sunk, but he was unwilling to let it go. It would have been too messy to try.

A church member was visibly upset after worship one Sunday in my former parish. I thought that some tragedy had come his way. We went to a room where we could talk. “What’s wrong?” I asked. “I’m so angry with myself,” he explained. “God is so good to me. And yet I keep sinning.” He went on to explain that every week he hoped and prayed that when it came time for Confession and Absolution in the worship service, he wouldn’t be able to think of any ways in which he’d failed to love God and failed to love his neighbor as he loved himself. “I no more than receive forgiveness from one sin and seem to have it licked than I see the power of another one over me,” he said. I smiled and put my hand on this man’s shoulder. “In this life, the only time you’ll stop feeling the need to confess sin is when you’ve grown so far from God that you sin without regret. May you never get to that point!”

I was really expressing the hope that that man’s life would remain messy from God working in his life.

Pastor Rodney Stark tells a true story from his ministry: She had drifted along spiritually for a while, but came to a point where she felt a need for God. She began to attend church, not getting much out of it at first, when one Sunday, the pastor showed how Jesus and His Word could impact her life. It was as though he was speaking directly to her. Jesus always speaks to us through His Word, if we give Him the chance to do so.

Jesus' Word has authority. Jesus’ Word can call out of us everything that isn’t from God. And when we let it, Jesus’ Word can bring the messiness of positive change to our lives.

There is a disturbing untidiness that comes to our lives when Jesus confronts all that would otherwise separate us from God. May that messiness be a central element of your life every single day!

[The three take-away ideas for this text from Mark's Gospel, which dovetail with my own thinking, were identified in a wonderful sermon by Pastor Rodney Stark which I first read several years ago.]

Thursday, January 29, 2009

Love Trumps Knowledge, Freedom Isn't License

Al, an acquaintance of mine, went out one evening with a group of people from the church he pastored.

Later, a close friend, Bill, who was part of the group asked him, "Al, I know that you like to have an occasional beer. Why didn't You have one at dinner tonight?"

"I think you may know why," Al said. His friend thought for a second and then asked, "Is it because of Ben's situation?"

Ben had recently told both Al and Bill that he had just come to terms with the fact that he was an alcoholic. Ben had met with Al and Bill, asking them to pray for him and to be among those who kept him accountable in his efforts to stay away from alcohol completely, something all alcoholics must do.

But Bill was still a bit clueless as to Al's motives. "Do you mean to say that you're not going to drink alcohol around Bill? You know that Jesus drank wine, don't you? Saint Paul recommended it for soothing the digestive tract. So long as you don't abuse your body with alcohol, it's perfectly OK to drink alcohol in moderation."

"I've read my Bible a few times," Al said with a smile. "Everything you're saying is true, Bill. But for Ben's sake, I won't drink alcohol around him. There are some things that aren't sins in themselves, but when done at the wrong times are sins."

"Sure," Bill said. "Sex is a good thing that God made. But when used selfishly or outside the marriage covenant, it's a sin. Food is a good thing from God. But if you use it to abuse your body, like with anorexia, bulimia, or overeating, it's sinful. But you're not saying that for you to drink alcohol in moderation in front of Ben is a sin, are you?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying," Al replied. "As a Christian, I'm free to use God's gifts properly. But if a fellow Christian or a non-believer is an alcoholic, my drinking it in his presence is a discouragement, like offering a loaded pistol to a suicidal person. Or, like putting God's stamp of approval on his alcoholism. I dare not use my freedom as license. I can't use my knowledge to hurt someone paying attention to my example. Sharing Christ's love is more important to me than my knowledge of what's right or wrong for me."

"Al," Bill said, "I couldn't disagree with you more. Why should I give up my freedom because of someone else's weakness?"

Bill would have done well to read one of the lessons for this coming Sunday, 1 Corinthians 8:1-13. You can read it below, in the words of the Contemporary English Version (CEV) translation of the Bible.

A little background: The Christian community in the first century Greek city of Corinth were a dysfunctional bunch. They were prone to use their Christian freedom in ways that were destructive to themselves and to others.

In the lesson for this coming Sunday, Paul responds to questions about food offered to idols. Often, food used in the worship of false deities would show up on the tables of the Christians as they got together for dinner and worship.

Paul said that of course, there was nothing inherently sinful in eating this food. Mature Christians knew that false idols were just that--false idols--and that the food that was offered to them was just that--food.

But, Paul said, if a mature Christian eats food offered to idols in the presence of newer Christians or people who were weak in their faith, the newbies were at risk of drawing the wrong conclusions. They might have thought that it was acceptable to spread their loyalties around among different gods.

But the Christian knows that the God revealed in Jesus Christ accepts no rivals, that God can only work in the lives of those who give him exclusive fealty as their Lord and King.

And so, Paul said, those with a more mature understanding of God and a more advanced relationship with Christ will, for the sake of those who don't know Christ as well, voluntarily forgo exercising their freedom.

Love does things like that.

In my own life, I have, too often, acted selfishly with my Christian freedom, setting a bad example or creating misimpressions of the Christian life in the eyes of nonbelievers or new believers. I ask God to help me to remember Paul's words...and Al's example.

1 Corinthians 8:1-13
1In your letter you asked me about food offered to idols. All of us know something about this subject. But knowledge makes us proud of ourselves, while love makes us helpful to others. 2In fact, people who think they know so much don't know anything at all. 3But God has no doubts about who loves him.

4Even though food is offered to idols, we know that none of the idols in this world are alive. After all, there is only one God. 5Many things in heaven and on earth are called gods and lords, but none of them really are gods or lords. 6We have only one God, and he is the Father. He created everything, and we live for him. Jesus Christ is our only Lord. Everything was made by him, and by him life was given to us.

7Not everyone knows these things. In fact, many people have grown up with the belief that idols have life in them. So when they eat meat offered to idols, they are bothered by a weak conscience. 8But food doesn't bring us any closer to God. We are no worse off if we don't eat, and we are no better off if we do.

9Don't cause problems for someone with a weak conscience, just because you have the right to eat anything. 10You know all this, and so it doesn't bother you to eat in the temple of an idol. But suppose a person with a weak conscience sees you and decides to eat food that has been offered to idols. 11Then what you know has destroyed someone Christ died for. 12When you sin by hurting a follower with a weak conscience, you sin against Christ. 13So if I hurt one of the Lord's followers by what I eat, I will never eat meat as long as I live.

[UPDATE: Thanks to Pugnacious Irishman and Rediscovering the Church for linking to this post. At the Pugnacious site, Rich Bordner also offers some of his own thoughts on this subject.]

New Hope for Ohio's Schools

In yesterday's State of the State message, Governor Ted Strickland unveiled his program to reform public schools in Ohio. Included was Strickland's proposal for reforming public school funding in the state. As regular readers of this blog know, this is one of my obsessions.

Four times, the state Supreme Court has ruled Ohio's shell-game funding "plan," unconstitutional. Republican and Democratic governors and General Assemblies have tinkered without doing away with what's referred to as "phantom revenue," through which the state makes money local voters thought they dedicated to their schools through levies, disappear.

Kudos to Strickland for biting a bullet.

My previous post on this subject contains links in which I've discussed phantom revenue in greater detail.

I'm coming to you from an undisclosed ice chest (AKA: The State of Ohio)

There's a power outage affecting 98% of the households of the county in which I live, including ours. Hocking County, Ohio isn't alone, apparently. Also enduring major outages are a number of other counties here in Appalachian Ohio, as well as the Tristate area around Cincinnati and some parts of central Ohio.

Much of the country, it seems, is enduring the same ordeal.

And it really is an ordeal, for some more than others. Many in our county have been without power since yesterday morning. Our power went out at 5:50pm last night. We were able to sleep comfortably under layers of blankets and comforters.

Functioning outside of the sheets was a more difficult proposition. So too was digging our vehicles out of the striated layers of ice, snow, ice, and snow.

The temperature right now is 25-degrees with a chill factor much lower than that.

We're told that power may not be restored until Sunday night. We shall see.

I hope that you're staying warm and dry wherever you are.

(Our daughter, who lives in Florida, informed me today that the temp was in the eighties!)

[UPDATE, 9:00pm: The power is back on!]

Sunday, January 25, 2009

The Most Powerful Word of All

[This was shared during worship with the people of Saint Matthew Lutheran Church in Logan, Ohio, this morning.]

Jonah 3:1-5, 10
Pastor and writer John Maxwell tells about a junior high basketball coach who was smart. If he had a kid who was lackadaisical on defense, this coach would call that kid Mr. Hustle. If he had a kid who was slow of foot, he named him Speedy. He hung these nicknames on the kids not as putdowns calling attention to their deficiencies, but with a straight face and seeming seriousness. “Did you see how ferocious Mr. Hustle was on defense?” he’d ask the team during practice. “I want all of you to work at being like him!”

Guess what happened?

When combined with the proper instruction and correction, kids whom the coach called Mr. Hustle really did become hustling defenders and those he named Speedy became the fastest ones on the team, able to lead the fast break.

Somewhere this coach had learned the power of words. He understood the truth behind a confession Mark Twain made: “I can live on a good compliment for a week.”

Negative words are powerful, too. A pastor came home from worship one day in a sour mood. Her husband asked what was wrong. “I must have heard ten people tell you what a great sermon you had,” he commented. “Yeah,” she acknowledged, “but Gladys Milkenrucker hated it.”

The old saying is wrong: Sticks and stones may break our bones, but words can and do sometimes hurt us. That’s because words—good words and bad words--really do have power.

But nobody’s word is more powerful than God’s Word.

The New Testament book of Hebrews says, “the word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing until it divides soul from spirit, joints from marrow; it is able to judge the thoughts and intentions of the heart.”

Eugene Peterson translates this same passage in The Message: “[God’s] powerful Word is sharp as a surgeon’s scalpel, cutting through everything, whether doubt or defense, laying us open to listen and obey. Nothing and no one is impervious to God’s Word. We can’t get away from it—no matter what.”

I like this last line because, in fact, we do try to run away from God’s Word. We do it because God doesn’t always say what we want to hear.

And we don’t run away from God’s Word only when it warns us against the sins we like to commit—be they gluttony or tax evasion, sexual promiscuity or personal arrogance, lazy indifference to God’s call on our lives or gossiping about our neighbors. We also seem to run away from God’s Word when it forgives and affirms us because we convince ourselves that God couldn’t possibly forgive us.

We also run away from God’s Word when it seems to tell us to do something we don’t want to do. Forgive as we’ve been forgiven. Lend a hand to someone who doesn’t deserve it. Fight for justice and equality for those whose life styles may be sinful. Say a good word for the person nobody likes. Tell someone else about the hope we’ve found in Jesus Christ.

And on that last point, I know that more often than I care to remember, I have been hesitant about sharing Christ with others. I've been a lot like Jonah in our Old Testament lesson.

There have been many times when God’s Word has come to me as it did to Jonah, clear as a bell, whether while I’ve been reading the Bible at home or hearing it in worship. But do I heed it and do what God tells me to do? No, I’m like Paul, writing in the New Testament book of Romans: “I find it to be a law that when I want to do what is good [that is, when I make a resolution to do what God’s Word tells me to do or to trust the grace that God’s Word conveys for me], evil lies close at hand. For I delight in the law of God in my inmost self…but the evil that I do not want is what I do.”

And so, I run from God and from God’s Word. In effect, I do what our daughter Sarah sometimes playfully does when she hears an off-color joke or when someone gives her TMI—too much information: I stick my fingers in my ears and say, “La la la la,” to block God’s access to my mind, heart, and will.

This was exactly what Jonah did.

The Old Testament book of Jonah, a fun book with a serious point, describes life in Israel, the land of God’s people, the Jews, in the middle of the 8th century BC. A nation that neighbored Israel, Assyria, was less than neighborly. It was, in fact, Israel’s greatest enemy, murderous and warlike. Assyria’s capital city was a place called Nineveh. Ancient Nineveh set on the same ground as a modern city you may have heard about in the news lately: Mosul, Iraq.

At the beginning of the book of Jonah, we’re told: “Now the word of the Lord came to Jonah son of Amittai, saying, ‘Go at once to Nineveh, that great city, and cry out against it; for their wickedness has come up before me.’”

In fairness to Jonah, whose reaction to this call, his hatred for the Ninevites, and his surliness toward God throughout the four-chapter book that bears his name have given him a bad press through the centuries, if God told you to go to Mosul, a city where today the murder and intimidation of Christians is so horrible and pervasive that many have fled the place to find safety, would you go?

Or would you, as Jonah did the first time God’s Word came to him, run in the opposite direction and book yourself on a Mediterranean cruise?

I think that I’d take the cruise.

But, as those of you who have read your Bibles know, God’s Word is powerful. God was emphatic that Jonah needed to do what God’s Word had told him to do.

Once the ship on which Jonah boarded was at sea, the God Who can control the wind and waves, sent a storm. Jonah convinced his shipmates that he was the cause of this life-threatening storm and that they needed to toss him into the drink so that God would bring calm seas.

The second they did that, there was a dead calm. The storm had stopped and you might think that that was the end of Jonah, now experiencing the death penalty for his rebellion against God.

But you who’ve read the book also know that God initiated a unique bailout plan for Jonah. There’s a lesson in that for you and me: God gives second chances and new starts even to people who don’t seek them. No matter how far you feel you’ve wandered from God, God wants to speak His Word of reconciliation, peace, and purpose to you. God wants you to have second chances.

That’s exactly what happened to Jonah at the beginning of our Old Testament lesson for today: “The word of the Lord came to Jonah a second time, saying, ‘Get up, go to Nineveh, that great city, and proclaim the message that I tell you.’”

Jonah still didn’t want to do what God’s Word told him to do. But he was grateful for a second chance and he’d learned a lesson out on the stormy Mediterranean about the power of God’s Word.

So Jonah goes to Nineveh. There, he does the minimum that God tells him to do. He only walks a third of the way into the city and delivers what is in the original Hebrew a five-word sermon. Here it is: "Forty days more Nineveh destroyed." That’s it.

Now, if you had been a Ninevite and heard that sermon, how would you have reacted? Would you have laughed it off? Would you have gotten angry? Would you have ignored this strange foreigner covered with the stomach juices of the great fish that had swallowed and spit him out? I can imagine reacting in any of those ways.

But Nineveh heard it and the whole city repented. They turned from sin and turned to the God none of them had ever worshiped before. It’s not in our lesson, but the king of Nineveh even issued a decree that said, in part, “All shall turn from their evil ways and from the violence that is in their hands. Who knows? God may relent and change His mind; He may turn from His fierce anger, so that we do not perish.”

Nineveh was spared. Its people--at least the people living there in the eighth century BC--turned from sin and turned to God. God forgave them and they lived, reconciled to God.

What about that paltry sermon of Jonah’s changed the lives of all those Ninevites? It’s fairly simple and truly amazing, really: Jonah’s words weren’t just Jonah’s words; they were also the Word of God.

The Word of God is powerful.

God spoke His Word and the world and everything in it came into being.

God’s Word—the second person of the Trinity: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit—was made flesh and came into our world—came to you—in Jesus Christ.

God’s Word comes to us today in the Bible, in the water of Holy Baptism, in the bread and wine of Holy Communion, in the fellowship of believers, in our confession of faith, and even in sermons, paltry and otherwise.

And God’s Word comes to you again today: to tell you “Whether to confront you for your sin, to confirm you in my forgiveness, or to send you to your own Ninevehs right here in Logan at work or home or school, believe God’s Word, trust it, and do what it tells you to do because God’s Word is still powerful, even today, even for you.” Amen

[THANKS TO: Mark at Stones Cry Out for linking to this post.]

This cracked me up...and amazed me!

A member of the congregation I serve as pastor sent the link to this amazing video to me. It showcases some NFL players showing off, trying to convince fantasy football leaguers to pick them for their teams. I'm not a fantasy player...but I'm convinced!