Saturday, February 14, 2015

Stop! Collaborate and listen.

Today's readings: Psalms 104; 149, Isaiah 61:10 - 62:5, 2 Timothy 4:1-8, Mark 10:46-52

Today in Mark, we read the story of a blind beggar who was sitting by the roadside when Jesus passed by on his way out of Jericho. When he realized it was Jesus, he began to cry out to him, but many people tried to silence him. Mark doesn’t identify these people who “ordered him to be quiet” (Mark 10:48), but the implication is they were followers of Christ. The blind man’s persistence paid off when Jesus stopped to wait for him, then healed him saying: “Go; your faith has made you well” (v 52).

Have we ever been one of the silencers? For example, during Sunday worship as we follow Jesus down the road from the first hymn to the eventual benediction and dismissal, we aren’t generally fond of interruptions. How would we react to a blind beggar shouting out in faith in the middle of that journey? To a crying baby and exhausted mother? To a grieving widower who sobs when the joyful song we are singing reminds him of the wife he just lost? We might actually shush them, or we might rely on the pressure of the group to do so, or we could ignore their obvious need. In any case, the message is clear: don’t interrupt.

Sure we could dismiss them as inconsiderate: why can’t they wait for an appropriate moment? Yet what moment could be more appropriate than a gathering of the followers of Jesus – the man who knew he was on the road to crucifixion but stopped in his tracks when someone cried out? In worship or in everyday life, following Jesus means stopping where he would stop. We can’t expect need and pain to wait until a convenient break in the scheduled activities to express themselves; otherwise we’ve marched Jesus right out of town.

While we can’t reasonably run down every side street searching for blind beggars, let’s be careful not to ignore or silence the needy right in our path because we have a well-crafted agenda that doesn’t involve them. Worship is more than formal prayer and praise; it is any expression of love and gratitude for God and his creation. Sometimes an interruption is an opportunity to do our most meaningful worship.

Evening readings: Psalms 138; 98

Friday, February 13, 2015

Get Over It

Today's readings: Psalms 51; 148, Isaiah 61:1-9, 2 Timothy 3:1-17, Mark 10:32-45

When Christians gain power, trouble follows. Before we get too bent out of shape over that statement, let's just be clear it's true about any religion. Some Christians like to claim we live in a nation that is – or at least should be – Christian. What exactly does that mean? Which particular branch of Christianity are they referring to? And most importantly what part of the teachings of Jesus leads them to believe political power is a good influence on Christian character – or vice versa?

Jesus tells his disciples time and again, they are meant to be servants as he is a servant. To be first, they must be slaves of all (Mark 10:44). In one sense we are fortunate to live in a time and place where our faith is not a threat to our well-being. On the other hand, having been told that we should expect persecution, we have greatly skewed our sense of what that means. Because we have no reason to fear martyrdom, we fear that any loosening of our grasp on power and control is a form of persecution. For evidence we only need look as far as the trumped up War on Christmas: why would we ever expect places of commerce to assert our religious beliefs? Then there's the outrage over religious displays that have been removed from government property or – worse yet! – made inclusive. Government recognition of a religion makes us beholden to that government – the very antithesis of what Jesus taught.

In twenty-first century America we simply don't suffer any real persecution for our faith – unless allowing people to disagree with us or having our feelings hurt has become a form of persecution. So perhaps instead of railing against perceived slights, we should be celebrating them! When we rub society the wrong way, we're just doing our job. When we rub other Christians the wrong way, we're probably earning overtime. Paul says "all who want to live a godly life in Christ Jesus will be persecuted" (Tim 3:12). When we settle for becoming outraged at someone who thinks we shouldn't get to tell them how to live, we demonstrate our faith is too weak to handle the persecution ladled on those who truly spread the Good (but sometimes unpopular) News.

Evening readings: Psalms 142; 65

Wednesday, February 11, 2015

Broken Relationships

Today's readings: Psalms 89:1-18; 147:1-11, Isaiah 59:1-21, 2 Timothy 1:15-2:13, Mark 10:1-16

Time after time, Jesus taught his followers love, mercy, and justice supersede any technically correct but unjust applications of the law. He ate with "unclean" sinners (Mark 2). He violated the Sabbath laws to heal (Mark 3 and elsewhere) and declared the Sabbath was made for man, not the other way around. He declared all foods "clean" (Mark 7).  He criticized religious leaders for their hypocrisy (chapter all-of-them). It must have felt like he was tossing out the rulebook. Until the Pharisees asked about divorce.

Suddenly Jesus was proposing stricter standards, saying Moses permitted divorce only because his people were stubborn and those who remarried committed adultery (10:2-10). Does this seem like an unexpected turn? Not if we understand that Jesus also calls us to integrity. A man could divorce his wife regardless of his wife's wishes. After that he owed her nothing, and she could easily end up a beggar in the street. Consigning someone to such a fate because someone else caught your eye was the opposite of merciful and just.

While modern day divorce does not generally result in such extreme circumstances, it is always unfortunate. Society expects (insists?) divorcing parties to be antagonistic, or even vindictive. Yet as we do in all situations, we have the choice to act with integrity. For ourselves and our children, we should do our best to remember the other person is a beloved child of God, whom we once professed to love as well.

Relationships of all kinds strain and break, but as members of the body of Christ we remain united at some level. Even when we can't stand each other - maybe especially then - the route of mercy and justice leads us home to wholeness.

Evening readings: Psalms 1; 33

Tuesday, February 10, 2015

There is no eye in team Jesus

Today's readings: Psalms 42; 146, Isaiah 58:1-12, 2 Timothy 1:1-14, Mark 9:42-50

One of the difficulties of being an original disciple might have been figuring out when to take Jesus literally, and when he was exaggerating to make a point. The book of Acts and the letters of Paul don't tell any stories of one-handed, one-eyed evangelists, so they seem to have assumed the latter when he said "If your hand causes you to stumble, cut it off" (Mk 9:43) and "if your eye causes you to stumble, tear it out" (v 47).

Jesus was not advocating self-mutilation. He was telling us we need to remove from our lives anything that leads us toward sin and away from God. His choice of imagery tells us this process may be painful, and that we may be called to separate ourselves from things we hold dear. If "it is better [...] to enter life lame than to have two feet and to be thrown into hell" (vv 45-46), surely we can examine our own lives for obstacles we need to remove.

Maybe we need to free ourselves of an addiction. Or maybe our words are wicked with gossip. Is there a relationship we prioritize above our faith? Do we love the sound of jingling coins too much to give them away? Tongues, loins, ears ... Jesus could have used any body parts to make his point that no matter how painful it seems in the short term, we must give up things - no matter how treasured or vital they seem - that hold us back from entering fully into the life he offers.

Christ doesn't ask us to give these things up simply to exercise power over us. Every bad habit and unhealthy behavior we lop off makes room for a more abundant life. When our spirits are unburdened, our hands, feet, and  eyes - all our parts - are unlikely to betray us. As backwards as it may seem, sometimes we must cut parts away to find wholeness.

Evening readings: Psalms 102; 133

Monday, February 9, 2015

Last / First


If you’ve been on a job interview in the last fifteen years or so, there’s a good chance you’ve been asked: “Where do you see yourself five years from now?” Potential employers ask this question hoping to determine how well the position fits with your goals and motivation. Imagine you are applying for the position of president of a Fortune 500 company, then imagine answering this question with: “I’m hoping to be in an entry-level position in the mail room by then.”

That would be a pretty crazy answer – unless you were interviewing for the position of disciple. Jesus had some fairly unorthodox recruiting techniques (“Hey, Peter and Andrew! Quit your jobs and follow me!”) so it’s no surprise his career advice was unconventional as well. When the disciples were arguing about which of them was the greatest, Jesus told them: “Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all” (Mk 9:35). When following Jesus, success means service.

This doesn’t mean we should suppress or hide our own gifts and contributions, or that we can’t be leaders. To the contrary, we should fully use all the talents at our disposal to the glory of God. We can even apply for that CEO position, as long as in all things we are serving as Christ commanded. No matter how successful the world tells us we might be, God’s criteria for success include how welcoming we are to children (v 37) or whether we give a thirsty person a cup of water (v 41). We can serve from a penthouse or a cardboard box, but we must serve.

Servant leadership costs us. Sometimes that cost may be social standing and higher earnings, other times it may be our safety. Paul bore the marks of servant leadership on his body in the form of scars from beatings he received for spreading the gospel (Gal 6:17). We don’t aspire to these hardships or offer them as proof of our superior humility , but if necessary, we modestly accept them. They prepare us for a career of Christ-like leadership. If someone asks us where we want to be in five years, are we ready to say “last of all?”


Evening readings: Psalms 82, 29