Jesus Wept

Today's readings: Psalms 54; 146, Proverbs 4:1-27, 1 John 4:7-21, John 11:30-44

When Sunday school students are assigned to memorize Bible verses, John 11:35 is especially popular because in many translations it is the Bible’s shortest verse: “Jesus wept.” Generally it’s chosen more for novelty than theological significance, but pound-for-pound it may be the most profound statement about God’s love for us in all of scripture.

Why did Jesus weep? We must understand the context of the verse to know. Jesus was returning to Bethany because his dear friend Lazarus, brother of Mary and Martha, had died. Jesus was greatly disturbed when Mary said if he had been there, Lazarus would not have died. As she showed him to the tomb, others made similar comments that Jesus could have prevented Lazarus’s death. At this point Jesus became greatly disturbed again and wept. 

We might think Jesus was grieving over his friend, but he had known for days that Lazarus was dead – and would be rising again. We might think he was weeping in sympathy for Mary, Martha and others. This particular interpretation may be comforting, but the original Greek phrasing suggests something else. When we read Jesus was “greatly disturbed in Spirit and deeply moved” (v 33), we need to understand the original Greek points not to sadness, but to indignation or chagrin. Jesus was upset that even those closest to him still understand neither who he was, nor the life God offered through him.

The weeping of an angry Jesus may at first seem disappointing or even unsettling. On reflection, what seemed like a humanizing, relatable moment may begin to feel like condemnation. Upon further consideration though, how can we not be touched by the idea that God deeply desires a relationship with us on a level that is so primal our inability to conceive of it frustrates Christ to tears? At one time or another all of us have been frustrated, also sometimes to tears, by a loved one who just seems lost. We want them to be whole and well. Christ loves us so much that he doesn’t just want to cry with us, but to help us understand how God’s love can lift us from this vale of tears to a place of peace.

Evening reading: Evening Psalms 28; 99

Recycled

Today's readings: Psalms 97, 147:12-20; Genesis 27:30-45, Romans 12:9-21, John 8:21-32

When Esau discovered his brother Jacob had tricked their father into giving Jacob the blessing that rightfully belonged to Esau, he was overcome with rage. This "blessing" was not a religious one, but a method of passing on rights to the land and possessions of a patriarch to his heir. The lands, wealth, and armies that Esau was sure he would inherit instead would go to the younger brother who had plagued him all his life. Esau would get the leftovers and move to a foreign land. Jacob would continue the line that would lead from Abraham to Jesus.

History unfolds in unexpected, often unwelcome ways. We might expect Jesus would come from a long line of noble, respectable, gracious ancestors. While they included royalty and priests, his family tree was shaky from the roots up. Abraham lied and tried to do an end run around God's plan for him, fathering the Ishmaelites. Isaac, like his father Abraham, lied about his relationship to his wife in order to secure business arraangements. Jacob stole his brother's inheritance and lived in hiding for years. His son Judah sold his own brother into slavery and impregnated a woman he thought was a prostitute. And on, and on, and on ...

The history of Jesus' ancestors isn't just a little suspect - it's out-and-out tawdry.  From one perspective it could undermine his authority and credibility; people are judged by their families all the time. But from another point of view, it could be considered encouraging or even liberating. If God could work through families like these, imagine the potential in boring old us? So many of us waste that potential because we are waiting to feel worthy. We talk about what we could or will do if and when we were better, more organized, more stable, healthier, or "holier" people. We look at others who do the things we wish we could do and assume they are smarter, better connected, and generally "have it together." After considering where Jesus came from ... still think so?

God meets us where we are, warts and all, and offers to lead us beyond where we hoped to be. No one is ever "ready" for that.

Evening readings: Psalms 16, 62

Trick Or Treat?

Today's readings: Psalms 89:1-18; 147:1-11, Genesis 27:1-29, Romans 12:1-8, John 8:12-20

Sometimes the Bible reads like a soap opera. In Genesis 27, Rebekah convinces her son Jacob to wear goat skin to fool his blind father into thinking he is his older, hairier twin brother Esau. He does this to secure his father Isaac's blessing, which will mean he inherits leadership of his clan. Isaac does indeed (and improbably) grant his blessing to the "wrong" son, in an apparently irrevocable act. When the real Esau demands things be made right, all Isaac has left to offer is a meager consolation prize of a blessing that basically promises Esau the things Jacob didn't already get.

To our modern sensibilities, developed in a culture of upward mobility, it seems unfair that deception is rewarded thusly. In Jacob's time, though, people couldn't earn authority based on merit; authority was inherited or taken by force. If Jacob (or his mother on his behalf) wanted equal opportunity without resorting to outright violence, he had no other choices but to scheme his way to it.

Many cultures have a "trickster" figure: Loki in Norse mythology; Raven in Native American lore; Anansi in West African folk tales. Jacob is a similar figure who outwits his brother multiple times, and even outwrestles an angel physically and mentally. Trickster figures, despite having questionable ethics, often bring benefits to mankind despite the will of the gods. This is where Jacob differs: God had already chosen him to continue Isaac's lineage, and the tricks seem to support that.

For the most part we want and expect people to play by the rules. Deception rubs us the wrong way and leads to chaos. But what if the rules are not the same for everyone (as they almost never are, especially the unspoken ones)? The Bible has many stories of oppressed people who use the methods available to them to overcome. Deception is not a virtuous act, but sometimes it takes a trickster to turn oppression around. Someone who, say, subverts Roman and Jewish expectations and leads us to eternal life by sacrificing his own. The difference between a hero and a villain often depends on who writes the history book.

Evening readings: Psalms 1; 33

Dropping Our Stones

Today's readings: Psalms 42; 146, Genesis 26:1-6, 12-33, Hebrews 13:17-25, John 7:53-8:11

Today’s story from John about a woman caught in adultery is the source of the saying: “Let he who is without sin cast the first stone.” One of the best known stories about Jesus, it is ironically considered one of the least authenticated. Early manuscripts of John don’t include it, and in later ones it varies slightly. Perhaps the story persists because its message is so essentially Christ-like.

Under Mosaic law, punishment for women committing adultery was death by stoning. The scribes and Pharisees brought such a woman before Jesus and tested his observance of the law by asking what should be done with her. Jesus initially responded by stooping and writing on the ground. Some apocryphal versions of the text say he was writing the sins of everyone present. Others have theorized it was a stalling tactic. Either way, this action teaches us a valuable lesson: Christ has little interest in hearing us recount the shortcomings of other people.

When he instructed the person without sin to cast the first stone, the crowd of course dispersed. Christ knew an honest examination of our own lives generates humility and mercy. When he and the woman were left alone, he declined to condemn her and instructed her to “go and sin no more” (John 8:11). Whether this event is historical or not, it illuminates truth that transcends fact: Christ is more interested in freeing us for the future than in chaining us to the past.

“Sin no more” does not excuse past actions – it is a call to repentance. True repentance doesn’t mean feeling guilty and sorry, but going in a new direction. Punishing others through guilt only hitches them to the past, and prevents them from moving in any direction. Allowing ourselves to be punished by guilt – even self-inflicted – is just as counter-productive. Following Jesus’ example means trusting others and ourselves to acknowledge mistakes, change direction, and do our best not to make them again. Jesus loves everyone enough to leave the past in the past, and to let everyone move toward a future of endless possibility. First, everyone needs to put down the stones.

Evening readings: Psalms 102; 133

Childlike Wealth

Today's readings: Psalms 103; 150, Genesis 24:50-67, 2 Timothy 2:14-21, Mark 10:13-22

The two stories in today’s passage from Mark can be read independently, but taken together they provide a greater lesson. In the first, Jesus rebukes the disciples for preventing children from coming to him. He welcomes and blesses the children, and tells his disciples “whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child will never enter it” (v 15). In the second, a rich young man who believes himself virtuous because he keeps the law asks Jesus what he lacks to inherit eternal life. Jesus tells the man he needs to sell all his possessions, give the money to the poor, and follow him. The young man leaves in shock and grief.

When Jesus speaks about being like little children, he does not mean we should be naïve or even innocent. Children own nothing, and depend on their parents for everything. To receive as children, we must realize that all we have is from God, and that our lives apart from God are empty. This takes us to the young man, who has many possessions. To abandon them all is unthinkable to him. His body and actions conform to the law, but his heart belongs first to his possessions. Not only does he fail to recognize all he has does not truly belong to him, he has allowed his attachment to wealth to become a barrier between him and God.

Idealism is associated with youth for a reason: as we grow older and establish our lives, it becomes ever more difficult to stand up for principles that may cost us everything, because we have so much more to lose. As we mature, it’s easy to claim experience has made us practical about matters that threaten our livelihoods. Is it possible we are rationalizing a bit? It’s a lot easier to stand up for principles at your job when all you have to lose is a 1998 Ford Fiesta than when your new house and Lexus are on the line. Must we, like the young man, sell everything? At the very least, we must be willing to part with anything in our lives – wealth, reputation, pride – that stands between us and God. Only then will we have room to receive the kingdom of God, and all the gifts which lift us up instead of weigh us down.

Evening readings: Psalms 117; 139

Win/Win

Today's readings: Psalms 63, 149; Genesis 24:28-38, 49-51; Hebrews 12:12-29; John 7:14-36

Psalm 63 speaks passionately of the psalmist's longing for God's presence: "my soul thirsts for you; my flesh faints for you" (v 1). It celebrates the fulfillment he finds in the Lord: "My soul is satisfied as with a rich feast" (v 5). It expresses his glad and utter dependence on God: "in the shadows of your wings I sing for you [...] ; your right hand upholds me (vv 7,8). Roughly two thirds of the way through, starting at verse 11, it turns in a completely different direction. The psalmist begins cursing his enemies, calling them "prey for jackals" who "shall go down into the depths of the earth" (vv 10, 9). This pattern of longing, praise, and gratitude followed by curses cast upon one's enemies is common to many psalms. Why might this be?

Sometimes we have trouble understanding the difference between rejoicing in our own triumphs and reveling in the misfortune of our enemies. "Enemies" is a concept we can apply in many ways. Sometimes it's as seemingly innocent as a rival team. Many a pre-game prayer has been for victory - and by extension for loss by the opposing team. There are no heroes or villains in this situation, yet such a prayer presumes God will favor one side over the other. On a larger scale, we hear much rhetoric about America being a nation enjoying special favor from God. This belief in our own righteousness can cloud our perception of the morality of our actions as a nation. At its ugliest, it encourages us to think of our enemies as God's enemies.

When Jesus tells us to pray for our enemies, it isn't only to change them - it's also to change our hearts toward them. Competition can be good, and global conflicts can be unavoidable, but our attitudes about them can change. Jesus famously interacted with Samaritans and other "enemies" of his people because his vision was not limited by the tribalism which afflicts so many of us. When we follow his example and understand God's love includes our enemies, we can break free from the false win/lose thinking that creates nothing but division. Praying for the welfare of our enemies makes them our neighbors.

Evening readings: Psalms 125, 90

Bread of Life

Today's readings: Psalms 62; 145, Genesis 19:1-17 (18-23) 24-29, Hebrews 11:1-12, John 6:27-40

When Jesus refers to himself as "the Bread of Life" he promises that anyone who eats of his body and drinks of his blood will never hunger or thirst (John 6:35). Of course this is a metaphor, but legendary saints like Therese of Lisieux claimed to need no nourishment but the Eucharist. The unperishing, completely filling food Jesus speaks of is that which satisfies our souls. Physical food sustains our existence but spiritual food transforms existence into eternal life.

Recognizing our mortality often leads to acknowledging a terrifying void in the core of our beings. Typical mid-life crises can involve the panicked acquisition of perishable things in an attempt to fill that void - things like fast vehicles, younger romantic partners, and one more promotion. However, the mid-life crisis is just regular life writ large. Who hasn't spent a sleepless night wondering if they've done enough with their lives, or regretting actions taken and untaken? We like to think there is something on the horizon we can do or have that will satisfy the unnamable longing within us. Advertisers know how to manipulate this spiritual hunger - after all they refer to us as "consumers." Spiritual junk food is much like actual junk food, which burdens us with extra weight to carry while leaving us malnourished.

Paradoxically, the food Jesus offers us is ... nothing. It is freedom from worldly concerns that comes with trusting we are beloved children of God. It is freedom from guilt and shame. It is freedom from feeling an unhealthy need for control. In the absence of all the things and attitudes we do and acquire to fill the void, the Spirit finds room to fill us with peace and love.

Not that contentment leaves us lazy! Food is fuel, after all, and the Bread of Life fuels us into joyous and fulfilling action. We don't serve our brothers and sisters in the hopes of finding joy - we serve them because we are already stuffed to the gills with joy. Our praise does not spring from a sense of obligation, but from a sense of gratitude. We work best - physically and spiritually - with a balanced diet.

Evening readings: Psalms 73; 9

Test Everything

Today's readings: Psalms 65; 147:1-11, Genesis 16:1-14, Hebrews 9:15-28, John 5:19-29

Some days the biggest stumbling block to faith is scripture itself. Amid its inspiration, today’s passage from Genesis contains some truly horrifying ideas. God promised Abram he would father a nation, but he and his wife Sarai did not conceive a child. An impatient Sarai suggested Abram impregnate her servant Hagar. Under the laws of the time, Sarai could have claimed legal possession of the child. The law also claimed that if Hagar started acting “uppity” after conceiving, her mistress could punish her – so naturally that’s exactly what happened. When Hagar ran away, God advised her to return with the promise her child would also beget a nation.

Forced surrogacy. Abuse. Slavery endorsed by God. Is it any wonder many people find it so easy to reject the Bible wholesale?

Many Biblical literalists and militant atheists approach the Bible in the same way: either it’s true or it isn’t. They simply come to opposite conclusions. Moderate and progressive Christians can find themselves caught up in defending why they bother with the Bible at all, if they don’t find scripture inerrant. Convoluted excuses and justifications for stories like this one (and worse) erode faith rather than strengthen it.

The Bible is not God. Treating it like it is might be the most acceptable form of idolatry going today. God can withstand our questions and criticisms of Bronze Age culture. Just because Jesus didn’t speak out against slavery doesn’t mean our attitude toward it remains unchanged over 2000 years. 1 Thessalonians 5:21 advises: “Test all things; hold fast what is good.” God has given us the ability to discern what is moral and what is immoral, though in cases like slavery it takes us far longer than it should to make the right call. Acceptable practices become unacceptable, and “abominable” practices such as short hair on women grow inoffensive.

The fact that people have used the Bible both to justify and condemn slavery tells us the truth it contains needs more thought than the popular “The Bible says it, I believe it, that settles it.” Trust that truth is Godly, wherever it is found.

Evening readings: Psalms 125; 91

Cry, Shout, Pray

Today's readings: Psalms 130; 148, Genesis 11:27-12:8, Hebrews 7:1-17, John 4:16-26

No matter how strong our faith, we eventually have a day - or maybe an achingly long series of days - when God seems far away. We don't talk about those much in church. Rather, church often seems to have an unspoken rule that we are always supposed to put on a brave face: anything else might cause others to question the sincerity of our faith. Expressions of doubt during a Bible study prompt others to offer arguments for belief so they don't have to feel uncomfortable. A minor breakdown during prayer time is viewed as unseemly and inappropriate, maybe even a topic for gossip in the parking lot. Loss and weakness are celebrated if we've already overcome them, but no one likes to watch the sausage being made. A story of overcoming a gambling addiction? Testify! A confession about how your ongoing blackout drinking leads to promiscuity? Save it for the 12-step meeting. We talk a good game about brokenness, vulnerability and healing but we really want to skip right to the "after" photo because the "before" is too upsetting.

The Psalms tell a different story. Many of them describe how we can be simultaneously faithful and in a wretched state. The author of Psalm 130 is crying out to to God from the depths of despair (v 1). He recognizes his own failings and shortcomings (v 3). He finds himself unable to do anything but wait for the Lord (v 6) and hope for the best. He still puts his trust in God but he's not putting up a brave front.

Questions, moments of weakness, despair: these do not demonstrate a lack of faith. They are the times that tell us whether we had any faith in the first place. Like the psalmist, sometimes the best we can do is beg God to get us through the darkness while we hunker down and hang on until daylight (v 6). A healthy faith community will offer safe space to rail against injustice, our struggles, and the seeming distance of God. It will face darkness head on but bring a light into it. Since communities are made of people, the responsibility of creating such space then falls on each of us. We can be ourselves when we allow others to do the same.

Evening readings: Psalms 32; 139

Hurrah! Now what?

Today's readings: Psalms 135, 145; Genesis 8:6-22; Hebrews 4:14-5:6; John 2:23-3:1

Imagine you are a member of Noah's family. You've been inside the ark for 150 days. What once seemed like an enormous structure has shrunk to feel cramped and confining. The smell of animals and their trappings permeates your clothes and hair. After 5 months maybe you have begun to wonder if you will live to see the waters recede or if you are really in a floating tomb. But the day you've been hoping for has finally arrived: a dove has returned with evidence of dry land. Today is the day you get out.

As the cover is pulled back and the door opens you are giddy with excitement, but before long that feeling fades and others replace it. After months at sea, your legs are unsteady on land. Sunlight you haven't seen in months feels good on your face, but is blinding and disorienting. The family you love but desperately want some time away from insists on gathering together to praise God and plan the next steps. The world is bright and new, yet it's a little ... disappointing.

Reaching a goal can raise us to an emotional high, but afterward it may also leave us feeling empty. Ready for renewal and transformation, we discover we need to take a little time to steady ourselves and gain our bearings. We are satisfied to complete our project, to graduate, to retire, to give up that bad habit, or to start that new routine. The Bible is full of stories of abrupt transformations, so we may be disappointed to learn that even the biggest events of our own lives are made of ... baby steps.

When we are reborn in Christ - however many times that may happen - we learn to crawl again before we learn to run again. Freedom from an addiction happens one day at a time. Forgiving others is a gradual release. Commitments to daily prayer are often a series of initial setbacks. Healing is followed by the tedium of rebuilding a life one block at a time.

A little emotional letdown is not a sign of failure or insignificance, but part of the process. One day we will remember back to the moment the ground became solid under our feet, and appreciate each step it made possible to take afterward.

Evening readings Psalms 97, 112

In God We Trust

Today's readings: Psalms 104; 149, Genesis 6:9-22, Hebrews 4:1-13, John 2:13-22

In Jesus’ time, monetary offerings made to the Jewish temple needed to be in Jewish currency. Since the standard currency was Roman, money changers set up shop inside the temple and exchanged currency for high fees. They also sold sacrificial animals at high prices. The money changers knew they had a captive audience of faithful Jews who had access to neither of these things on their own. Jesus reacted to their presence in the holy temple by overturning their tables and driving them out with a corded whip – his only violent reaction to people in any of the Gospels.

Jesus and the Money Changers by Balage Balogh

In the Middle Ages, some clergy traded indulgences (the reduction of penance) for alms (charitable gifts). Abuse of this practice – basically selling forgiveness for cash donations – was one of the major issues that drove Martin Luther to launch the reformation. Today televangelists find ever more sophisticated ways of parting the faithful from their money by selling them goods, services and empty promises. Many churches offer enlightenment, access, or authority only to those who can afford to pay dearly for it.

Charity is an important part of a Christian life, but never trust anyone who attempts to use your desire for a closer relationship with God for monetary gain. And be wary of anyone who believes large offerings should buy them special privileges in church – the flip side of the same counterfeit coin. If you believe Jesus died for our sins, then the price has been paid in full. If you aren’t convinced of atonement theology, remember Jesus’ reaction to those who profited off the faithful. Drive the modern day money changers out of your life and don’t feel a need to be gentle about it. Your relationship with God depends on you and God and no one else.

Anyone truly interested in helping you grow your faith won’t charge you. Of course preachers need to eat and churches need to keep the lights on, but how much you are able or willing to contribute financially should not influence their willingness to be Christ’s hands when you need them.  God’s love and forgiveness is free. You can take that to the bank.

Evening readings: Psalms 138; 98

The (Not So) Good Old Days

Today's readings: Psalms 97; 147:12-20, Genesis 4:17-26, Hebrews 3:1-11, John 1:43-51

The good old days, according to Biblical history, don’t get any older than the time of Adam and Eve. Rather than a simpler time when people were decent, the first generations of humans dabbled in murder. Adam and Eve may be the model for traditional marriage, but their descendants practiced polygamy while the original couple was still alive (Gen 4:19-26). Whether these stories are factual or not, they tell us human society has not degraded, but has always had issues.

What about the more recent good old days? The era of Leave It To Beaver might have been great for white, Christian men, but for people of color, women, and religious minorities it was a time of oppression. Most of us, especially those who grew up enjoying a privilege we didn’t realize we had, do not understand what a complicated and dangerous world it is until we live in it as adults. We are nostalgic for a time that never actually existed, but which seems better because we were not fully capable of comprehending and despairing of its complexities.

The writer of Ecclesiastes claimed that even in his time, there was nothing new under the sun. He surely didn’t anticipate the iPhone, but as far as human nature goes, he remains correct. We are capable of the same atrocities and acts of kindness as we have always been. However, despite the hype of the 24-hour news cycle, statistics show that violence in the world has been steadily decreasing for decades. The good old days were simply … not.

When we feel overwhelmed by the world, let’s not pine for a past that never was. Instead, let’s focus on introducing God’s realm into the troubles of the present. It is by facing the world head on, while relying on the assurances of Christ, that we create a better future.

Evening readings: Psalms 16; 62

The Devil Did Not Make You Do It

Today's readings: Psalms 42; 146; Genesis 3:1-24; Hebrews 2:1-10; John 1:19-28

Temptation is a tricky devil. We tend to speak about it as though it lives outside of us. Though most people are speaking metaphorically when they say "The Devil made me do it!" the sentiment behind the phrase is fairly common. We don't like admitting our darker desires might originate in our own minds and hearts. It's convenient to shift blame to external forces. And if we act on those impulses … guilt is a powerful incentive to duck responsibility.

Today's reading from Genesis is well-known even outside religious circles. The serpent tempting Eve to eat the fruit of the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil is such a recognizable image that ad campaigns often reference it.  Gender studies examine how Eve's role in offering the fruit to Adam has been exploited to paint women as seductresses who lead men to sin. The story influences many cultures, and illustrates how we think about temptation.

While the serpent is traditionally the villain of the tale, note that no one remains blameless– God punishes the serpent, the man, and the woman. "She made me do it!" is not an acceptable excuse. Do we suppose Eve spent the rest of her days cursing the serpent? Or that Adam couldn't stop mumbling about her under his breath? We never learn whether anyone took ownership of his or her own actions.

Do we claim responsibility for our actions? As a society of armchair therapists, we have become adept at rationalizing and identifying (correctly or not) the roots of our own temptations and unhealthy behaviors. Too often this is where we stop, and a diagnosis becomes an excuse. Everyone has heard (or said) some variation on "I was mistreated so I behave badly." Explanations are only a start – real healing moves us beyond them. Certainly people can tempt us with opportunities, but we make the choices. Until we admit we knowingly and willingly ate the fruit, we aren't equipped to resist the next bite. We also aren't able to forgive ourselves or – more importantly – know God has forgiven us.

Temptation is inevitable. Our response to it is not, as long as we don't blame the serpent.

Evening Psalms 102; 133

Letting Go

Today's readings: Psalms 104; 150; Genesis 1:1-2:3; Ephesians 1:3-14; Reading John 1:29-34

Artists will often say a work of art is never perfected, but eventually it has to be finished enough for public consumption. According to Genesis, God created the world in six days. At the end of each day, he looked upon what he had created and pronounced it good. Conceivably God could have kept on creating indefinitely and brought into existence things we can’t even imagine, but on the seventh day he rested. Whether or not we believe a literal creation account, at least one thing remains true: after the foundation of the universe was laid, God handed over the reins and let human history unfold on its own.

When Jesus showed up at the River Jordan to be baptized by his cousin, John knew his job was finished. He acknowledged the superior rank of Jesus and gracefully stepped aside, saying: “I came baptizing with water for this reason, that he might be revealed to Israel.” (John 1:31). Someone else might have tried to hold onto the influence John exerted over his own disciples, but John willingly let them follow Jesus instead. John trusted Jesus to carry on the faithful work he had begun.

How good are we at recognizing when our work is finished? If God and John the Baptist could trust others to carry on and tend to their creations, why do we sometimes have trouble letting go? Maybe it’s a ministry we started at church, or a project at work, or even our children: at some point we must admit we have done all we can do – all we should do – and relinquish control. This can be a scary thing to do, but if we do not the fruit of our labor is more likely to strangle on the vine than ripen in the sun.

Conviction is good. Perseverance is good. Stubbornness is not so good.  Stubbornness is a cage that holds us only because we refuse to unlock it. When we can’t recognize our leg of the race is done and pass the torch to the next person, both we and the torch are likely to burn out before the finish line is reached. Better to pass it along, celebrate the joy of sharing the burden with the next runner, and enjoy a day of rest. Who knows what me might pick up next?

Evening readings:  Psalm 29

Servant Leaders

Today's readings: Psalms 46 or 47; 149; Isaiah 65:13-16; Revelation 3:7-13; John 6:15-27

What would you do if the public wanted to crown you king or queen? Would you embrace it? Would you run away? Jesus chose the latter. After he fed thousands of people with just a few loaves and fishes, they wanted to make him king – by force if necessary. He escaped to the mountain to be alone.

When God told Isaiah he was to be a prophet, Isaiah resisted. He declared to God all the ways he felt unworthy of being God’s voice. Many (most?) of the prophets chronicled in the Bible resisted God’s call. As far back as Moses, who blamed his speech impediment and tried to push the job off on his brother Aaron – the people God has chosen to lead have shown reluctance.

When God knocks on the door, even to tell us we are fit to lead, we should be a little hesitant, maybe even fearful. The call is rarely easy. In his wisdom, God does not tend to choose leaders who are eager to embrace authority and power. Contrast this to our present-day system of secular leadership, where candidates spend millions of dollars telling you why they are unquestionably qualified for leadership, and their opponents barely deserve to participate in civil society. And religious leaders who seek power? We should always keep a critical eye on them.

Of course there are differences between people who seek power, and people who rise naturally to positions of leadership. For starters, the latter is much less common. The ability to acquire power is nothing like the ability to wield it wisely and justly. In hierarchical organizations, someone has to be at the top. The person who is the most eager, or eloquent, or assertive is not necessarily the best choice. The true sign of faithful leaders is a desire to serve not a term of office but the people who depend on them.

In God’s kingdom the last are first and the first are last. A true leader does not fear other leaders, but encourages them. A true leader does not control subjects, but empowers people. When we are called to leadership -  by God, people, or circumstance  - let us consider it humbly and prayerfully. When God calls us to lead, he calls us to serve.

Evening Psalms 27; 93 or 114

Humble Piety

Today's readings:  Psalms 46 or 47; 148; Isaiah 65:1-9; Revelation 3:1-6; John 6:1-14

The Gospels may be "The Good News," but a lot of Jesus' message is old hat. Centuries before Jesus taught people of his day that true obedience to God means embodying a spirit of mercy and justice - rather than mercilessly following the letter of the law - Old Testament prophets had tried to deliver the same message. Isaiah told the exiled nation of Israel she had lost God's favor because of her "holier than thou" attitude (not even paraphrasing - see Isaiah 65:5). Their burnt offerings, once a pleasing fragrance, became a stench in God's nostrils as they substituted outward piety for love and mercy.

Flash forward 800 years, and no one seems to have learned anything. The occupying force may have changed from Babylon to Rome, but the Jewish people still needed to hear they were like whitewashed tombs - dressed up on the outside, but decaying inside (Matt 23:27). Flash forward another millenium or two and - no surprise - followers of Jesus need to hear we might be a little too focused on displays of piety and not enough on mercy. Who are the prophets of the message this time? Certainly many voices from within the church, but more telling are the voices of outsiders looking in. Surveys consistently reveal that non-Christians perceive Christians as hypocritical and judgmental. When non-believers are filling in for Isaiah and Jesus, it's time to take note.

Misplaced piety seems to be a chronic condition of the faithful. And lest we begin to feel too superior for reigning in our own pious impulses ... that's a form of it also. The good (old) news is that prophets speak because there is always hope we will listen and change our ways. Sowing mercy and justice is challenging work. It's much more comfortable to check off lists and to follow familiar rules than to listen to the voices telling us we need to reevaluate what we think God wants from us - especially when that might mean others will look down on us. When we feel challenged, "Let anyone who has an ear listen to what the Spirit is saying to the churches" (Rev 3:6).

Evening readings: Psalms 27; 93 or 114

Bread: Different Slices

Today's readings: Psalms 97, 146; Deuteronomy 8:1-3; Colossians 1:1-14; John 6:30-33, 48-51

Scripture is multi-layered. For example, when we think of bread in a Biblical context, many interrelated images come to mind. First and foremost is Jesus as the bread of life, as mentioned in today's reading from John (v 32). There's also the story of manna - the "bread from heaven" that God sent to feed the Israelites as they wandered the desert; this is mentioned in John and also in our reading from Deuteronomy. The author of Deuteronomy says manna was sent not just for survival, but to teach God's people "that one does not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of the LORD" (v 3). If we bounce this idea against John's  description of Jesus as the Logos - the Word of God made flesh - we come full circle in understanding that God has always been providing for our physical needs, while teaching us we are more than merely the sum of those needs.

If scripture is multi-layered, human beings are even more so, processing our lives in many ways at the same time. We are constantly aware of our need for physical bread - that is, anything that serves and sustains our physical bodies. But our souls long for another kind of nourishment, a spiritual nourishment that helps us find meaning and make sense of the world. And sometimes these seem to be at odds.

Some of us find meaning and sense in reason, in the chemistry of the bread recipe and the laws of nature that explain why the bread rises. Others find them in faith, in the eternal truths about love, mercy and grace that defy any recipe or calculation. Unfortunately, many people feel they must choose one or the other, and buy into the idea that a gap exists between them. But scripture tells us one does not live by ordinary bread alone: that use of "alone" indicates we need both types of bread in our lives - one to sustain our mortal lives and the other to feed us for eternal life. Both are from God, and both represent  realities we live in as children of God. Too much or not enough of either, and we fail to live fully. A well-balanced diet of faith and reason keeps our intellects and spirits healthy.

Evening readings: Psalms 27, 93h

And Justice For All

Today's readings: Psalms 72; 145; Isaiah 49:1-7; Revelation 21:22-27; Matthew 12:14-21

The Gospels cite many passages from the Old Testament, particularly the prophets. Today’s reading from Matthew cites four verses from Isaiah which describe the humble way in which Jesus undertakes his mission of justice and mercy. The words originally applied to the exiled nation of Israel, similarly called by God to be a light to the world.

This call to justice is interesting, because it can be applied both internally and externally. Internally, Jesus is reminding the Jews that God desires mercy above sacrifice (he has just been condemned by religious leaders for committing the “sin” of performing a healing on the Sabbath). Externally, his message of justice for everyone is a thorn in the side of the Roman empire. No one is blameless, but all are worth redeeming.

It’s good to keep that thought in mind as we navigate through the modern world as well. When we perceive ourselves as the victims or the oppressed, it can be easy to overlook our own shortcomings. For evidence of this we can look to Washington, where each political party, once it takes power, attempts to justify behavior it has recently condemned in the other. Or we can look to the Christian church in America: as Americans become more diverse in belief and unbelief, many Christians mistake someone else’s free speech for an erosion of their own rights, and - ironically - attempt to clamp down on religious liberties. When the oppressed eventually find themselves in the position to oppress, our lesser nature usually asserts itself.

How can we avoid that trap? One way is to always focus on justice for others while we are seeking justice for ourselves. Martin Luther King famously said “"if one of us is not free, then none of us are truly free." Being oppressed by the Romans didn’t make the Jews more merciful to their own widows and orphans, so we should not assume that because we are oppressed we must be in the right, individually or as a group.

When Jesus tells us to pray for our enemies it is not just to adjust their attitude towards us, but equally to soften our hearts toward them.

Evening readings: Psalms 100; 67

Dressing Up For Jesus

Today's readings: Psalms 99; 150; Kings 3:5-14; Colossians 3:12-17; John 6:41-47

“The clothes make the man. Naked people have little or no influence on society.”

- Mark Twain

As Christians we try not to judge others by appearances, but like it or not appearances matter. Even if we are not judging, we are being judged. Should we care? Not if we are judged for having the wrong handbag or shoes, but we should be concerned if we appear to lack the traits that mark a Christian.

If someone claims to be a professional mountain climber, yet lacks all the basic equipment, that person appears to be delusional or a liar. If we claim to have Jesus in our hearts yet our lives show no outward signs, we will be judged. While there’s nothing wrong with a Jesus fish on your bumper, a scripture quote in your email signature, or a t-shirt declaring you have been saved, these things don’t really show people you are following Christ any more than a subscription to Popular Science tells people you deserve a Nobel prize in physics.

Paul tells us what Christian garments look like: compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, patience, and love (Col 3:12,14). “Dressing for success” in God’s kingdom – unlike the workplace, social club or evening of speed dating – is not about promoting ourselves, but about promoting others. Whether we are wearing designer fashions or ragged hand-me-downs, our spiritual garments shine through. If we are spiritually “naked,” no John 3:16 coffee mug or collection of Sunday bulletins is going to convince someone otherwise.

Our spiritual appearance does affect society. It tells both individuals and the world whether they should expect Christians to be hypocrites or authentic followers of Christ. If we claim a salvation that frees us from guilt but does not otherwise transform us, the world soon sees the emperor has no clothes. The garment that says the most about us is not the one that makes us seem respectable or pious, but the one we give to someone in need.

Evening readings: Psalms 96; 110

. . .

Today's readings: Psalms 111; 148; 1 Kings 19:9-18; Ephesians 4:17-32; John 6:15-27

When we find ourselves in a disagreement, most of us have a natural tendency to raise our voices. As the discussion becomes more heated, we try to convince each other through sheer volume. However, many communication experts tell us the best way to be heard – in an argument, or whenever we need to emphasize a point – is to speak more softly. Doing so decreases aggression in others, and compels them to focus and listen.

The prophet Elijah learned God did not speak through mountain-cracking winds, rumbling earthquakes, or roaring fires … but was present in the still silence that followed (1 Kings 19:11-13). When Jesus needed to rest in God's presence, he retreated to quiet isolation (John 6:15). Paul tells the Ephesians to speak only those words that build up (Eph 4:29), certainly not the sort of words that are loud or argumentative. In a world where even religious voices are often shrill, are we placing enough value on silence?

Silence is not only something we should seek, but something we can help produce. Saint Francis of Assisi is sometimes credited with saying: "Preach the Gospel at all times. Use words if necessary." It's not really his saying, but is very much in the spirit of his teachings. Our society emphasizes the persuasiveness of words (thus the steady appeal of talk radio and blogs), but relatively few people are "talked into" faith. We listen most eagerly to words that echo what we already believe. Attitudes and beliefs are changed most often by experiences. If we are to be the hands of Christ, perhaps those hands are most authentically experienced when they are offered silently in comfort or prayer.

Of course there is nothing inherently evil about words, even those spoken loudly if they are for a just cause, but we must remember they are merely symbols of the ideas they represent.  If they become a stumbling block, we can dispense with them. If our actions betray our words, we are better off not using them. If we want to teach someone about our faith, quiet, loving actions are a solid beginning. Jesus is the Logos – the Word made flesh: what other words could possibly serve us better?

Evening readings: Psalms 107; 15

Gifted Children

Today's readings: Psalms 48; 147:12-20; 1 Kings 19:1-8; Ephesians 4:1-16; John 6:1-14

We have an odd relationship with gifts. Some of them, the ones that are just the ones we want or didn’t know we wanted – can be treasured for a lifetime. Others, like a ceramic lamp given to you by a beloved relative but not quite to your taste, can be a burden – especially if you feel obliged to put it out when she visits. Giving gifts can be an equally mixed experience. It’s a joy when we know just what to give or stumble across the perfect item, and it’s a painful obligation to select a gift when we are uninspired.

Gifts from God can be the same way. We may value them, as Paul valued the spiritual gifts of the
church at Ephesus (Eph 4:1-8). We may feel they are burdens, as did Elijah who ran and hid when the consequences of his prophetic gift became dangerous (1 Kings 19:1-8). Or like the apostle Andrew, who never imagined five loaves and two fishes would feed thousands, we may not even recognize how mighty they are (John 6:8-9).  In the end, no matter how we feel about them, gifts are meant to be used: to do any less is to fail be to be true to ourselves and to God.

While we shouldn’t underestimate our gifts, we shouldn’t overestimate them either. They don’t exist in a vacuum, and are most effective when combined with the gifts of others. The gifts of a community support and amplify each other. Some provide vision, some provide funds, and some provide skill. As Paul told the Ephesians, “we must grow up in every way into him who is the head, into Christ, from whom the whole body, joined and knit together by every ligament with which it is equipped, as each part is working properly, promotes the body's growth in building itself up in love” (Eph 4:15b-16).

Let us embrace both our gifts and their limits. Let us neither neglect nor boast of them. Let us embrace the gifts of the community so each may multiply the fruits of the others. Each child of God is a gifted child. Living into those gifts and encouraging others to do so makes us participants in the realm of God that yearns to break though into the world.

Evening readings: Psalms 9; 29

By Any Other Name

Today's readings: Psalms 98; 147:1-11; Isaiah 62:1-5, 10-12; Revelation 19:11-16; Matthew 1:18-25

Biblical names – especially ones changed or bestowed by God – tell a story about the person to whom they belong. In today’s reading from Isaiah, the prophet tells the people of Israel that when God restores them, the name of their nation shall change from “Forsaken” to “My Delight Is In Her,” from “Desolate” to “Married” - symbolizing Israel’s relationship with God (Isa 62:2-4). It’s no coincidence that Joseph, the betrothed of Mary, receives instructions from God in dreams (Matt 1:18-25, and elsewhere); in the book of Genesis we met another Joseph who interpreted dreams and brought his family into Egypt.

Names are important to us, too. We are concerned with protecting our “good name.” We strive to “make a name” for ourselves. We agonize over picking just the right names for our children. If you were in a Bible story, what would your name mean to people? Solomon is synonymous with wisdom, Job with patience, and Methuselah with longevity. If two thousand years from now people read the story of your life, what traits would your name conjure? Are you satisfied with that image?

If yes, that’s an excellent indicator you are on the right path. If not … it’s never too late to make that name mean what you want. If you could pick a name to live up to, what would it be? Faith, Hope and Charity are names for a reason. Maybe you would choose something more literal, like “Comforts The Sick” or “Works for Justice.” What name describes the person you want to be? “Wise as Solomon” is taken, but there’s no reason people of the future couldn’t strive to be as “generous as Hector.”

What difference might it make in our personal and public lives if we started thinking of ourselves by another name, one we chose to define us? Or if we lived as though our current name already meant the thing we hope to be? New beginnings are possible at any time, but only if we are willing to let go of the limits we and the world have placed on our identities. A newly defined name, even one known only to you and God, is a good start.

Evening readings: Psalms 99; 8