Today's readings: Ps 5, 6; Jon 1:1-17; Acts 26:24-27:8; Luke 8:40-56
Today we begin reading the short but powerful book of Jonah. Most of us remember this story from childhood Sunday School classes, mostly due to the story of Jonah being swallowed by a great fish and spit up on shore. In some Christian circles the fish and the attempts to explain how it could have “really happened” have become such a focal point of the story that the more important points of the story get lost. Jonah is a book about God’s love for all people, even the people we don’t love ourselves.
The first chapter opens as God commands Jonah to deliver a message to Nineveh, the capital of the Assyrians, who for a long time were Israel’s captors. Rather than heading east toward Nineveh, Jonah heads in the opposite direction toward the port city of Tarshish in the west. This decision doesn’t pan out well. The Lord sends a great storm to trouble the ship Jonah has chosen, and it doesn’t cease until the crew members throw Jonah overboard because they realize he has angered the Lord.
Are we ever like Jonah? Do we ever head the opposite direction from where the Lord would have us go? Intentionally or not, we all make that mistake sometimes. Maybe we don’t like what God is asking us to do, or the people he’s asking us to do it for. Maybe we are too preoccupied with our own concerns to hear the call of the Lord. Maybe we think we’ll answer later. Maybe we’re too busy justifying a fish story to see the greater truth behind it.
Whatever the reason, when we head away from God instead of toward God, we can expect some rough weather. Probably not our own personal tsunami or mammoth tuna, but our lives won’t be what they could. Even if everything appears fine to outside eyes, inside we will know things are off kilter. When we ignore God’s call, the repercussions play out in our lives not as punishments but as natural consequences. A nagging lack of peace and contentment ripples through and distorts all our relationships to other people, God and ourselves. As we will explore throughout our reading of Job, we will know we are heading toward God when we are heading toward reconciliation.
Comfort: Even if we move away, God is waiting for us to come back.
Challenge: Throughout your day, stop regularly to assess whether your actions are leading you toward or away from God’s call.
Prayer: God of Mystery, when you call me I will move toward you.
Evening reading: Ps 10,11
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Monday, October 11, 2010
Unlimited
Today's readings: Ps 1, 2, 3; Mic 7:1-7; Acts 26:1-23; Luke 8:26-39
A couple days ago we read about the disciples’ reaction to Jesus calming a storm. Today we read about his healing of a man long possessed by demons. One element these stories have in common is how some of the people who witness the events react: fearfully. Even thought Jesus saves them from physical and spiritual danger, their fear eclipses their gratitude.
What exactly did the people fear? They feared an unpredictable God, or more specifically a Jesus who served an unpredictable God. We might consider them in a patronizing fashion, but we shouldn’t be too quick to decide we are somehow wiser. What kind of messiah—what kind of God—do we think we have? We like the Jesus who eats with sinners and raises the dead, but what do we think of the Jesus who drives evil spirits out of a person and into a herd of swine who respond by killing themselves? However we interpret this story, we must grapple with a Jesus—with a God—who operates beyond our understanding. Even when we accept that discipleship has its demands, we like to think we know what those demands will be. We are more comfortable with a God we can define, even subconsciously, than a God we can’t tame to stay within the bounds of human expectations. For if we can’t set expectations on God, we can’t anticipate what expectations God might have of us!
Like the Gerasenes, we may retreat when we realize the “easy” parts of relationship with Christ are part of a larger package, a package we can’t wrap our arms or brains around. When we think of holy or righteous lives, we tend to think of them as peaceful and orderly. An exception may be the missionary who finds herself in dangerous and unknown territory, but we think of her as just that—an exception. The truth is, when we enter fully into relationship with Christ and God, our experience of God is mysterious and wild. Our hearts are at peace, but our lives are one surprise and risk after another. This may seem contradictory, but that’s part of the mystery.
Comfort: Releasing ourselves from the need to limit God frees God to remove the limits from our lives.
Challenge: Each day this week, write down one thing (news item, scripture passage, etc.) that confuses you about the nature of God. Afterward, thank God for not requiring you to understand.
Prayer: God of Mystery, thank you for not meeting my expectations.
Evening reading: Ps 4, 7
A couple days ago we read about the disciples’ reaction to Jesus calming a storm. Today we read about his healing of a man long possessed by demons. One element these stories have in common is how some of the people who witness the events react: fearfully. Even thought Jesus saves them from physical and spiritual danger, their fear eclipses their gratitude.
What exactly did the people fear? They feared an unpredictable God, or more specifically a Jesus who served an unpredictable God. We might consider them in a patronizing fashion, but we shouldn’t be too quick to decide we are somehow wiser. What kind of messiah—what kind of God—do we think we have? We like the Jesus who eats with sinners and raises the dead, but what do we think of the Jesus who drives evil spirits out of a person and into a herd of swine who respond by killing themselves? However we interpret this story, we must grapple with a Jesus—with a God—who operates beyond our understanding. Even when we accept that discipleship has its demands, we like to think we know what those demands will be. We are more comfortable with a God we can define, even subconsciously, than a God we can’t tame to stay within the bounds of human expectations. For if we can’t set expectations on God, we can’t anticipate what expectations God might have of us!
Like the Gerasenes, we may retreat when we realize the “easy” parts of relationship with Christ are part of a larger package, a package we can’t wrap our arms or brains around. When we think of holy or righteous lives, we tend to think of them as peaceful and orderly. An exception may be the missionary who finds herself in dangerous and unknown territory, but we think of her as just that—an exception. The truth is, when we enter fully into relationship with Christ and God, our experience of God is mysterious and wild. Our hearts are at peace, but our lives are one surprise and risk after another. This may seem contradictory, but that’s part of the mystery.
Comfort: Releasing ourselves from the need to limit God frees God to remove the limits from our lives.
Challenge: Each day this week, write down one thing (news item, scripture passage, etc.) that confuses you about the nature of God. Afterward, thank God for not requiring you to understand.
Prayer: God of Mystery, thank you for not meeting my expectations.
Evening reading: Ps 4, 7
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Who do you trust?
Today's readings: Ps 146, 147; Micah 6:1-8; 1 Cor 4:9-16; Matt 15:21-28
Micah 6:8 is one of those popular Bible verses that appears on everything from coffee mugs to t-shirts in Christian bookstores: “He has shown you, O mortal, what is good. And what does the LORD require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.” The prophet is telling the people ritual is no substitute for relationship. It’s a message we also hear from Christ. Unfortunately, like Micah’s audience, many of us would rather look for God in a tidy set of rules than wade through the mess of justice and mercy.
We can do the real work of justice and mercy only if we rely on God to guide us. Like the Israelites, we can be tempted to put our faith in rules, but we also face the modern temptation of misplacing that faith in institutions rather than in God. Psalm 146:3 tells us “Do no put your trust in princes, in mortals, in whom there is ho help.” Putting our faith in any mortal institution is a mistake: all are temporary and prone to corruption.
Governments, economic structures, and even churches are at heart more interested in their own survival than in justice and mercy. We can love our country, but we must recognize God loves every citizen of every nation equally. We can believe capitalism is the best economic system, but must admit in practice it can come in conflict with justice and mercy. We can identify with the denomination that best reflects our beliefs, but we must remember no church has remained unchanged longer than God has. No social structure is a substitute for God. Any one of them could be gone tomorrow. If the disappearance of one of them would fundamentally alter how we choose to live our lives, we are not seeking God first.
Of course we have to live within existing social structures, but our lives of justice and mercy should influence them more than they influence us. If we blindly trust governments, political parties, ideologies, etc., we will eventually be let down. If we are not, our loyalties are not with God. We live God’s justice and mercy independently from – and often in spite of – the worldly structures in which we find ourselves.
Comfort: God is constant.
Challenge: Consider which of your political, social and economic values might be in conflict with your faith.
Prayer: Teach me, Lord, to act justly and to love mercy.
Evening readings: Ps 111, 112, 113
Micah 6:8 is one of those popular Bible verses that appears on everything from coffee mugs to t-shirts in Christian bookstores: “He has shown you, O mortal, what is good. And what does the LORD require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.” The prophet is telling the people ritual is no substitute for relationship. It’s a message we also hear from Christ. Unfortunately, like Micah’s audience, many of us would rather look for God in a tidy set of rules than wade through the mess of justice and mercy.
We can do the real work of justice and mercy only if we rely on God to guide us. Like the Israelites, we can be tempted to put our faith in rules, but we also face the modern temptation of misplacing that faith in institutions rather than in God. Psalm 146:3 tells us “Do no put your trust in princes, in mortals, in whom there is ho help.” Putting our faith in any mortal institution is a mistake: all are temporary and prone to corruption.
Governments, economic structures, and even churches are at heart more interested in their own survival than in justice and mercy. We can love our country, but we must recognize God loves every citizen of every nation equally. We can believe capitalism is the best economic system, but must admit in practice it can come in conflict with justice and mercy. We can identify with the denomination that best reflects our beliefs, but we must remember no church has remained unchanged longer than God has. No social structure is a substitute for God. Any one of them could be gone tomorrow. If the disappearance of one of them would fundamentally alter how we choose to live our lives, we are not seeking God first.
Of course we have to live within existing social structures, but our lives of justice and mercy should influence them more than they influence us. If we blindly trust governments, political parties, ideologies, etc., we will eventually be let down. If we are not, our loyalties are not with God. We live God’s justice and mercy independently from – and often in spite of – the worldly structures in which we find ourselves.
Comfort: God is constant.
Challenge: Consider which of your political, social and economic values might be in conflict with your faith.
Prayer: Teach me, Lord, to act justly and to love mercy.
Evening readings: Ps 111, 112, 113
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