40-Days to Servanthood: Day 2

Above all, God means for you to be a servant.

Yesterday, we established that God’s goal for you is that you become like Jesus. But when God came to the world in Jesus Christ, what was He like?

Paul tackled this question in a letter that appears in our New Testament. There, the apostle urges the members of the first-century church in the city of Philippi to think and act like Jesus in their life together:

“Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness. And being found in human form, he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death— even death on a cross. Therefore God also highly exalted him and gave him the name that is above every name, so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bend, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father” (Philippians 2:5-11, New Revised Standard Version).

You see, Jesus had nothing to prove. He was God. So, when a crowd, impressed that He had filled their bellies with food, chased after Him to force Him into becoming the sort of King they wanted, He refused (John 6:22-40). When the crowds who welcomed Him on the first Palm Sunday pressed Him to throw the Roman Conquerors out of Jerusalem, Jesus again refused. He would be a King on His own terms, a Servant King. Jesus served in small ways--turning water into wine at a Judean wedding (John 2:1-12)--and in the very biggest way of all, giving His life on a cross. But, confident of Who He was, Jesus had no need to “throw His weight around,” coercing people into following Him. He lovingly served others and as a result, many wanted to follow Him.

Because of your confidence in the risen Jesus, you can dare to live like Him. Above all, God means for you to be a servant.

Bible Passage to Ponder: “Think of yourselves the way Christ Jesus thought of himself...he took on the status of a slave...” (Philippians 2:5-11, The Message)

Just arrived in the mail...

A review of a book I enjoyed reading last year. The review appeared here in June.

But I actually wrote it for the Trinity Seminary Review. (Hopefully, the links on the Review site will be fully operational soon.) The Winter/Spring, 2009 issue landed in the church mailbox today.

The Review is a journal by and for the seminary, alumni, and friends of Trinity Lutheran Seminary.

So, tell me, what books haven't you written?

My son sent this link to an August 2, 2004, article on the BBC web site. It's about two librarians, inspired by a novel by Richard Brautigan, who went around England asking people if they'd ever thought of writing a book and if so, what would the book be. Their research resulted in the Library of Unwritten Books.

No, really, they wrote these book ideas out and published at least some of them as booklets "distributed to libraries, pubs, community centres and doctor's waiting rooms."

You can read some of the unwritten books--in this case, that's not an oxymoron--here.

I have mixed reactions to this.

On the one hand, lots of people have one book in them, I suppose. On the other, most people should keep their book ideas in them. You know, save a tree. And even if a book is published in electronic form, an unwritten and unpublished book that someone decided not to present in condensed form may save other things, like our brain cells. There are books I've read during my lifetime that, I'm sure, actually depleted my brain power and, in the case of some assigned college reading, temporarily decreased my will to live.

Oddly enough, I woke up yesterday with an idea for a book, a novel. In that place between sleep and wakefulness, I worked the whole thing out in my mind: cast of characters, pacing, dialogue, denouement, and who I'd want to star in the movie adaptation. But then I woke up. I realized that here was a book that not only would remain unwritten, but deserved that fate.

Of course, five years from now, when I get wind of a bestseller about to be turned into a movie starring Brad Pitt (not my choice for the star, by the way), I'll have a sensation mixing vindication and regret. I'll tell my wife, kids, and friends, "I had an idea for a book just like that back in 2009." And my wife, kids, and friends will say patronizingly, "I'm sure you did."

Sigh.

What books haven't you written?

40-Days to Servanthood: Day 1

God’s goal for your life is for you to be like Jesus.

God has set apart every person called to follow Jesus Christ “to become like his Son, so that the Son [will] be the first among many brothers” (Romans 8:29, Good News Bible).

Does that seem impossible? It probably does.

After all, Jesus was (and is) not just a human being, but God. “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...all things have been created through him and for him...in Him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell...” (Colossians 1:15-19, New Revised Standard Version).

But I’m not making this up. God means for you to become like Jesus.

Jesus is the prototype of a new human race. This is what the apostle Paul was talking about in First Corinthians 15 when he effectively designated Jesus the new “Adam.” “For as all die in Adam, so all will be made alive in Christ” (First Corinthians 15:22, New Revised Standard Version). Sin infected the human family when Adam rebelled against God. Because human beings are the pinnacle of God’s creation, the only one of God’s creatures to bear “the image of God” (Genesis 1:26-28), all of creation bears the burden and the signs of our rebellion against God.

But God means to give fresh starts to all who turn from sin and surrender to Jesus Christ (Second Corinthians 5:17). Jesus is the new Adam, the resurrected first example and the pioneer of the new human race of which God invites all people to be a part.

In Christ, we are born anew (John 3:3). But just as our physical births are only the beginnings of our lives, so our spiritual births only begin our lives in Christ.

God’s goal for your life is for you to be like Jesus.

Bible Passage to Ponder: “God knew what he was doing from the very beginning. He decided from the outset to shape the lives of those who love him along the same lines as the life of his Son. The Son stands first in the line of humanity he restored. We see the original and intended shape of our lives there in him.” (Romans 8:29, The Message)

[This is the first installment of a forty-day series of extremely short devotional pieces which I wrote back in 2006. (Some have been slightly revised.) The pieces are being used at the congregation I serve as pastor, Saint Matthew Lutheran Church in Logan, Ohio, as part of our Lenten walk toward Easter. I hope that you find them helpful.]

What is Ash Wednesday?

Tomorrow, Christians all over the world will be celebrating Ash Wednesday. It begins a forty-day season of spiritual renewal and preparation that precedes Easter Sunday. The season is called Lent.

Actually, there are more than forty days between Ash Wednesday and Easter. But the Sundays that fall during Lent are never counted as part of that somber season. For Christians, Sundays are always "little Easters," days when the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead is celebrated.

Lent emphasizes other aspects of Christian belief, which is why many churches, including the church I serve as pastor, hold special Lenten services on Wednesday nights during this period.

The word Lent is from Middle English and means spring, the season of the year with which Lent somewhat corresponds.

According to Philip H. Pfatteicher and Carlos R. Messerli, writing in a book called Manual on the Liturgy, "Lent [as a season of the Church Year] derives from the [period of] preparation of [adult] candidates for Baptism [in the Church's early history]. By the middle of the fourth century at Jerusalem, candidates for Baptism fasted for 40 days, and during this period...[instructional] lectures...were delivered to them."

Of course, forty is an important number in the Bible. Jesus was tempted in the wilderness for forty days. The Old Testament book of Exodus says that God's people wandered in the wilderness for forty years. The rains that produced the great flood recorded in the book of Genesis lasted forty days and forty nights. So, it was natural that Lent would become a forty-day period.

Pfatteicher and Messerli say that after Christian faith was legalized in the Roman Empire in 313 A.D., "the period of preparation for Baptism became a general period of preparation of all Christians for Easter." That continues to this day.

Ash Wednesday itself, say Pfatteicher and Messerli, features a mood of "penitence and reflection on the quality of our faith and life." The goal is to call believers to remember their mortality, dependence on God, and need to seek God's help in disciplining themselves to surrender every part of their lives to Jesus Christ.

At our congregation tomorrow evening, we'll begin our time of worship together with the singing of Just As I am, Without One Plea, followed by corporate confession, the reading of a Bible lesson, and then, the imposition of ashes on the foreheads of the repentant. Each person will receive this sign with the words, “Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.”

Ashes, in a Jewish and Christian context, suggest three things:

• judgment and God’s condemnation of sin;
• our total dependence upon God for life; and
• repentance, joyful turning back to God.

As the cross of Christ is marked on our foreheads with ashes, we’re reminded of the words of the burial service: “Earth to earth and dust to dust.” (These are based on God's words to Adam and Eve in Genesis 3:19.) Ashes remind us of our mortality and of our need for God.

Ashes are also a symbol of cleansing and renewal. This makes sense when you think about it. When I was a boy and would lodge splinters into my hands, I'd go to my dad. Dad inspected things and soon, got a needle from my mom's sewing kit, and pulled out his lighter. He turned the tip of the needle over and over again in the flame of the lighter for maybe thirty seconds and after that, wave the needle through the air to cool it off. Then, he used it to pick the splinter out of my hand. Of course, the reason that Dad ran the needle through the flame was to kill off any bacteria that might cause infection.

In the Greek of the New Testament, the word for fire is pur, from which we get such English words as purge, pure, and purify, among others. When we open ourselves to letting Jesus Christ be in charge of our lives, He begins to purge us of all the old, destructive habits that previously blocked God's presence from our lives and He creates a place of purity where He can live with us and transform our lives. The old life is burnt and a new life begins.

Just as baptismal water suggests death and brand new life with God...so do the ashes of Ash Wednesday.

Seeing Jesus Without a Vision

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

Mark 9:2-9
During an episode of the old Murphy Brown sitcom, Murphy asks her coworkers for their thoughts about God. Jim, the anchorman, says that he’s a lifelong churchgoer and that while he has never personally experienced God, he knows that there are people in the church he attends who have. He keeps going, he says, because he wants to be around people like that and because of a belief that if it happened for them, it could happen for him too.

Truth is, few of us ever have the kind of experience of God in all His power and glory that Peter, James, and John had on the mountaintop with Jesus. Jesus’ transfiguration--the transformation of His appearance so that His clothing became whiter than even Clorox could get it—was a dazzling, overwhelming heavenly affirmation of His authority. It fulfilled what Jesus had promised His disciples just six days earlier—and just one verse before the start of today’s Gospel lesson from Mark. Jesus had said, “I can assure you that some of the people standing here will not die before they see God’s kingdom come with power.” [CEV]

Peter, James, and John saw what Jim the anchorman hoped to see: the power and the presence of God. They saw a vision and heard words from heaven that confirmed the rightness of following Jesus, that He is the One Who brings God’s kingdom to our world, He is the One to Whom we should listen day in and day out.

I don’t know about you: But sometimes I think that following Jesus would be a lot easier for me if God would be that direct with me. In fact, if I let myself, I could even resent Peter, James, and John a little.

But, if you are inclined to feel ripped off because the three of them got to see a vision that would sustain their faith and you may not have been given such a gift to sustain your faith, keep in mind that even then only three of Jesus’ disciples saw the Transfiguration. The other nine were down in the lowlands below. Thomas, the disbeliever, wasn’t there. Nor was Andrew, the one who had introduced Peter to Jesus in the first place. And neither was Judas, who would later betray Jesus.

Maybe if Thomas and Judas had seen Jesus up on that mountain, things would have turned out differently. Maybe Thomas wouldn’t have doubted. Maybe Judas wouldn’t have betrayed Jesus. But they weren’t there.

And Andrew, who followed Jesus before the rest of them, would seem to have had more right to a faith-encouraging vision than Peter, James, or John had. But he wasn’t there either.

It seems that God gives visions to the people to whom God chooses to give visions. We have no control over that.

Erling Wold was a Lutheran pastor who, along with his wife Margaret, wrote many inspiring articles and books. One day, Wold was surfing in the Pacific Ocean near his southern California house. A wave knocked him down and smashed him into the sand. His neck was broken. In a book he called, What Do I Have to Do--Break My Neck?, Wold writes (along with his co-author, Margaret) of the moment after impact, when he knew that he was seriously hurt: “Then and there, something very important happened to me. It was not a hallucination. My senses were totally alive. In that moment, there was an inrush of light and [it] filled me as I floated. The light was on my right side, and the light took shape, pulsating with an invitation to come into the light, into the center of the light.” Wold knew that the light was the Light of the world, the risen Jesus. He writes, “I was swept up into an unspeakable exhilaration of glory and I had an intense longing to let go of everything. I welcomed anything. Death. Paralysis. As long as I could be part of that light. I was filled with a light born ecstasy, and my exhilaration continued for what seemed like an eternity.”

Obviously, much pain, healing, and rehabilitation were ahead of Erling Wold at that moment. But from that time on, the risen Jesus Who he had always trusted and believed in became more real and present for him than at any time in his life. I believe that God gave Wold a vision of the risen Jesus so that Wold could have a ministry that sustained and encouraged many people in their faith in the decades that followed. [see here]

Sometimes, I think, visions of God’s kingdom—visions of the glory of Jesus--like that experienced by Peter, James, and John on the Mount of Transfiguration may be as much burden as reassurance, comfort, or inspiration. After Jesus had died and risen and sent the Holy Spirit, what choice did Peter, James, and John have but to spread the Good News about Jesus Christ? Proclaiming the vision they had seen of God’s kingdom would eventually bring suffering and martyrdom to each one of them. The vision sustained them, assuring them that Jesus is more than an Easter God, He's also the God Who comes down into our worlds. But the Transfiguration vision didn’t turn the three disciples' lives into primrose paths. In fact, being true to what the Transfiguration told them about Jesus cost them their earthly lives.

Many of you remember the speech given by Martin Luther King, Jr. in Memphis just before he went to the hotel where he was killed. Reverend King, whose work for civil rights flowed from his commitment as a follower of Jesus Christ, seemed to have a premonition of his impending death, conveyed in that speech through words that spoke of a vision. “I’ve been to the mountaintop,” he said, “…and I’ve seen the promised land…. I may not get there with you. But I want you to know tonight, that we, as a people, will get to the promised land. And I'm happy, tonight. I'm not worried about anything. I'm not fearing any man. Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord.” For King, the vision of the risen Jesus’ kingdom he seemed to experience not only affirmed his faith, but burdened him.

And yet, each of us as we move through our days and face the challenges of daily living—doing our work, paying our taxes, stewing about our kids, facing economic uncertainties—each of us would like to know that God has our back, that the risen Jesus is here for us and with us.

Last year, I shared with you five ways I have learned to see Jesus. On the theory that, even though you may have been fascinated when I shared these five ways of seeing Jesus with you back in January of 2008, you may have forgotten one or two of them, I’m going to quickly share the list with you again now.

This list of five ways to see Jesus isn’t new with me. They come from a wonderful book called Why I Am a Christian, written by the late Lutheran theologian and pastor Ole Hallesby. He wrote this list for people who want to believe, but like Peter, James, and John, and maybe sometimes you or me, find it hard to believe.

If you want to believe, Hallesby says, do these things. First: Read the New Testament. The New Testament is the cradle in which the baby Jesus can be found, the place of His cross can be experienced, and His empty tomb can be seen.

Second: Pray. I was going through a discouraging day recently. Nothing seemed to be going right and every time I turned around, I got bad news of one sort or another. It wasn’t a terrible day, just a down day. In desperation, I stopped what I was doing and prayed. The bad news didn’t disappear. But as I prayed in Jesus’ Name, the God we know in Jesus, assured me of His presence and His love. Too often we try to face life with our own brains or brawn. But if we ask for Him to help us, though we can’t see Him, Jesus will show up.

Third: We ask God to show us the ways we’ve displeased Him. We submit to a spiritual examination by God and we confess the sins God makes known to us. Our sins, the things we do that hurt God or hurt others, can become walls between God and us. When we ask God to show us the walls we’ve erected against His grace, they can be dismantled and we get a clear internal view of Jesus.

Fourth: Receive Holy Communion every time it’s offered. “This is my body; this is my blood,” Jesus says of the bread and the wine. In Communion, Jesus comes to us and enters us. He is as present to us then as He was to Peter, James, and John.

Finally: Spend time in fellowship with God’s people. Of course, this means being in worship with God’s people when we’re able to do so. But we can fellowship with other believers at other times and, in fact, we really need to fellowship with them at other times. In the past week or so, I was visiting one of our shut-ins who I told, “I’m inspired every time I visit you.” She was taken aback by that comment. “Really?” she asked. “Absolutely!” The fellowship of believers assures us that God’s kingdom isn’t some far-off thing, but that it comes right down to us the way it came to the Mount of Transfiguration. In the movie, The Color Purple, one character battered by life, tells another, “When you walked into the room, I knew there was a God.” The fellowship of believers can give us that same assurance.

You and I may never be blessed or burdened by the kind of vision of God’s Kingdom and of Jesus’ glory that three of Jesus’ disciples saw on the mount of Transfiguration. But when we read the New Testament, pray in Jesus’ Name, submit to spiritual examination and correction by God, receive Jesus’ body and blood, and spend time in fellowship with other believers, we too can see Jesus. We can know that Jesus is with us now. We can experience His strength in the midst of our weakness. We can be assured that there is a Lord that gives eternity to all who follow Him. And when we experience Jesus in these ways, we can face anything in life or death and beyond. Amen

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.

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.]

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

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.

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.

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.

"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

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.

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.

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.

Not "a cosmic good buddy"...

but in Paul Tillich's phrase "wholly other."

Through Christ we know that God understands our every weakness and is slow to anger and filled with tough, unending love for us.

God is also a consuming fire, which is why the fear of the Lord--awe, respect, the constant quaking realization that God is God and we aren't--is the starting point of wise living.

"our God is a consuming fire"

[Photo from Jose Maldonado]