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

A (Son of) Man walks into a bar ...

Today's readings:  Psalms 46 or 97; 147:1-11, Isaiah 52:3-6 Revelation 2:1-7, John 2:1-11

Christian spiritual practice is associated with many things: self-denial, martyrdom, and hair shirts -- to name a few. "Partying" never seems to make the list. Yet Jesus' first miracle (or sign), recounted in today's reading from John, took place at a big wedding party. The miracle was turning water into wine -- and not just any wine, but the good stuff (John 2:10).

Certainly we need to take our faith and spiritual practices seriously, but a truly spiritual life does not require us to say "no" to actually living. While accusations of our savior being a glutton and a drunkard (Matt 11:19, Luke 7:34) are overstated, might it be the tiniest bit arrogant to think we are called to live a more "wholesome" life than he?

It's easy to start thinking the point of fasting, prayer, or any other discipline is the practice itself -- to make an idol of it. We are not called to sacrifice just because God likes to make arbitrary demands of us. The end game of sacrifice is not to create a bunch of morosely pious Christians, but to help usher God's justice into the world so that all have what they need to be loved, loving, and whole.

In the parable of the prodigal son, a father welcomes home his repentant son with a feast (Luke 15:11-32). This story illustrates the difference between self-destructive indulgence, and celebrating in joyful faith. We need to recognize this difference and understand when it is time for restraint and when it is time for merriment.

Service and faithfulness do not have to mean a lack of cheer or even -- heaven forbid! -- fun. Seriously, folks...

Evening readings: Psalms 27; 93 or 114

The Needs of the One are The Needs of the Many

Today's readings: Psalms 2, 148; Isaiah 49:13-23;  Isaiah 54:1-13; Matthew 18:1-14

“The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. Or the one.”

 - Mr. Spock, Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan

"Imagine that you are creating a fabric of human destiny with the object of making men happy in the end... but that it was essential and inevitable to torture to death only one tiny creature ... And to found that edifice on its unavenged tears: would you consent to be the architect on those conditions? Tell me, and tell me the truth!"

- Fyodor Dostoevsky, The Brothers Karamazov

“The needs of the one … outweighed the needs of the many.”

- Captain Kirk, Star Trek III: The Search for Spock

Humankind has always struggled to balance individual need against the need of the greater community. One modern tool to achieve this balance is our choice of economic system: capitalism, socialism, communism, etc. These models lie on a continuum from individualism to collectivism, and all have achieved various levels of success – if measured economically. Measured spiritually, all fall short because they are not ends, but means. How do we approach this struggle of knowing what and when to sacrifice?

Jesus made the ultimate sacrifice of his life, but sacrificial living need not be so extreme. In the parable of the lost sheep, the shepherd leaves behind ninety-nine sheep to find one. That’s great if we are the one, but most of the time we are among the ninety-nine left on the mountain. Do we pray for the shepherd and the lost one and hope to celebrate their return? Or do we grumble about being temporarily inconvenienced and blame the one’s misfortune on its own failure to keep up? Are we willing to sacrifice a little so the one may survive? Often our answer depends on whether we’ve made the choice freely or been coerced … but the shepherd doesn’t survey the sheep about whether he should go.

In our society, sacrifice is valued mostly via lip service. We “sacrifice” trips to the movies or Starbucks to keep our debt down or to pay for our children’s college. Rarely are we called on to make true sacrifices in the sacred sense, which benefit us not at all. Or maybe those opportunities only seem rare because we are more apt to find reasons people have failed themselves than reasons to help. Does the shepherd seem concerned with whether he is giving the lost sheep “a hand up or a handout?” Are we prepared to make the real sacrifices necessary to save the lost in our society? Because in the end, the hands up are more costly in time, money and comfort than are the handouts. If Jesus is our example, we should be willing to sacrifice ourselves, but unwilling to make excuses to sacrifice others for the sake of convenience.

Evening readings: Psalms 110, 111

But why ...?

Today's readings: Palms 122, 145; Isaiah 1:10-20; 1 Thessalonians 1:1-10; Luke 20:1-8

Sometimes the biggest barrier between us and God is religion itself. Hardly an original thought, but we need to hear it periodically. The problem is most "religious" activity at one time had a spirit-filled purpose behind it that slowly faded from memory until the ritual became a substitute for the underlying purpose. Take the animal sacrifices mentioned today in Isaiah. We consider animal sacrifice barbaric, but among the Israelites the practice was a step away from barbarism: the surrounding cultures were sacrificing humans. The author of Isaiah tells us the sacrifices themselves have become offensive to God, reeking of the hypocrisy of their practitioners. Instead of continuing on a path toward God's ever expanding justice and compassion, the Israelites settled for ritual over the mercy God would have them act upon the poor, the orphaned and the widowed. When ritual is stripped of relationship, it is no longer of God.

If we think we only need to learn this lesson once, Luke disabuses of that notion pretty quickly. When the Jewish authorities are faced with the question of whether John's baptism (and by implication the nature of Jesus) was heavenly or earthly, their concerns are misplaced. These people would have been familiar with Isaiah. Still their focus is on which answer might make them look foolish or rile the people. The status quo is more important to them than truth itself!

Like it or not, we all have some tendency to let unexamined preferences calcify into dogma. Things like language choices and personal causes can slant our thinking and actions in ways we don't notice. The familiar tempts us even when it no longer serves us. The Israelites - in Isaiah's or Jesus' time - surely did not set out to create traditions and habits that separated them from God, and neither do we. Let's be cautious not to let imperceptible drift over long periods of time move us away from the intentions behind our actions. "What Would Jesus Do" may seem trite ... but pairing it with "Why Would Jesus Do It?" might just sweeten the scent of our sacrifices.

Evening readings: Psalms 40, 67