Saturday, January 18, 2014

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

Thursday, January 16, 2014

The (Not So) Good Old Days


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

Tuesday, January 14, 2014

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

Sunday, January 12, 2014

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