Today's readings: Psalms 46 or 47; 147:12-2, Isaiah 59:15b-2, Revelation 2:8-17, John 4:46-54
Today's reading from the Gospel of John tells the story of Jesus' second miracle, or sign. When a Roman official asks Jesus to come to Capernaum to heal his dying son, Jesus tells the man to go home and his son will live. Just as Jesus promises, the man's son recovers and the man and his whole household become believers. However, it's what Jesus says before he sends the man away that is quite telling: “Unless you see signs and wonders you will not believe.” (John 4:48)
Jesus does not seemed excited about performing this sign. Nor was he enthused
about his mother pressuring him into his first sign, when he changed water into wine at a wedding banquet. His miracles are often accompanied by aggravating circumstances: the disciples don't believe he can feed a multitude with a few loaves and fishes ... for the second time; his closest friends doubt him even as he raises Lazarus from the dead; Peter' doubt causes him to sink beneath the waves when Christ helps him walk across the water. Christ hopes for faith that doesn't depend on miracles, yet sometimes he resigns himself to the "necessary evil" of providing a sign.
Many of us have hoped for signs. Who couldn't use a little reassurance now and then? But the real measure of our faith is what we do in the absence of signs. How pleasing must it have been for Christ when peopled followed him not because of what he could do for them, but because of who he was and what he taught? The second time the disciples presented him with loaves and fishes, he commanded them to feed the crowd themselves, and they were successful. Faith is not just believing in what Christ can do for us, but in trusting that he will accomplish miraculous things through us.
Evening readings: Psalms 27; 93 or 114
a (would-be) daily devotional based on the Daily Lectionary from the Book of Common Worship
Thursday, January 8, 2015
Wednesday, January 7, 2015
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
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
Tuesday, January 6, 2015
Conspiracy Theory
Today's readings: Psalms 72; 14, Isaiah 52:7-10, Revelation 21:22-27, Matthew 12:14-21
"But the Pharisees went out and conspired against him, how to destroy him." - Matthew 12:14
Sadly, we aren't especially surprised when we discover our leaders -- political, religious, or otherwise -- are not working in our best interest. Power is intoxicating, and human beings who have it generally don't like to give it up. The pharisees felt their power was threatened by Jesus and his teachings, and they were willing to play dirty to retain it. Like politicians across all times, they convinced themselves and others it was for the greater good.
It would be nice to say Christians today were not nearly as prone to conspire against Christ, but it wouldn't be true. Early Christians held beliefs that ran counter to the dominant culture. In America, Christians a
re the dominant culture. Because this is the case, it is easy to start assuming the things we value as a society must be Christian. We conflate value-neutral systems like capitalism and democracy with Christianity in a way that makes them seem like the Unified Theory of Everything Good. When Jesus gets wrapped up in marketing gimmicks and partisan politics and national pride, we have -- intentionally or not -- conspired to undermine his message. When Christians view and treat the poor as moral failures instead of fellow travelers, or allow others to do so, we have traded Christ for comfort.
What if we could conspire on behalf of Christ? What if, instead of assuming Christ values the same things we do, we lived in loving opposition to the parts of our culture -- even the self-identified Christian ones -- that betray him? If we aren't rocking the boat in radically inclusive ways, we'll never know what it's like to walk on water.
Evening reading: Psalms 100; 67
"But the Pharisees went out and conspired against him, how to destroy him." - Matthew 12:14
Sadly, we aren't especially surprised when we discover our leaders -- political, religious, or otherwise -- are not working in our best interest. Power is intoxicating, and human beings who have it generally don't like to give it up. The pharisees felt their power was threatened by Jesus and his teachings, and they were willing to play dirty to retain it. Like politicians across all times, they convinced themselves and others it was for the greater good.
It would be nice to say Christians today were not nearly as prone to conspire against Christ, but it wouldn't be true. Early Christians held beliefs that ran counter to the dominant culture. In America, Christians a
re the dominant culture. Because this is the case, it is easy to start assuming the things we value as a society must be Christian. We conflate value-neutral systems like capitalism and democracy with Christianity in a way that makes them seem like the Unified Theory of Everything Good. When Jesus gets wrapped up in marketing gimmicks and partisan politics and national pride, we have -- intentionally or not -- conspired to undermine his message. When Christians view and treat the poor as moral failures instead of fellow travelers, or allow others to do so, we have traded Christ for comfort.
What if we could conspire on behalf of Christ? What if, instead of assuming Christ values the same things we do, we lived in loving opposition to the parts of our culture -- even the self-identified Christian ones -- that betray him? If we aren't rocking the boat in radically inclusive ways, we'll never know what it's like to walk on water.
Evening reading: Psalms 100; 67
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