Questions Worth Asking

Today's readings: Psalms 36; 147:12-20, Isaiah 45:5-17, Ephesians 5:15-33, Mark 4:21-34

Human beings like answers. It was true thousands of years ago in the time of the prophet Isaiah, it's true today, and it will be true thousands of years from now. Uncertainty vexes us. Sometimes we are more content to grasp at false answers than to have no answers at all. Yet sometimes the answer is simply ... there is no answer.

When the exiled nation of Israel cried out against God's seeming abandonment of them, Isaiah challenged their right to take God to task. He compared them to clay questioning the choices of the potter. The God of Israel declared he "made weal and created woe" (Is 45:7) as he saw fit, and human beings should not strive to comprehend why.

Like the ancient Israelites, we often want to know why God has allowed things

(more often bad than good) to happen to us. Some people's faith evaporates when something bad happens and the world stops making sense to them. "How can a loving God let bad things happen?" they wonder. That question can feel threatening to people of faith. An entire industry of apologetics, creationist "proofs," and theological musings has evolved to address that question. In the end, most of them are overly pat and largely unsatisfying.

Questioning is healthy, but some questions will remain unanswerable. Isaiah, Job, Proverbs: these scriptures and others advise us energy spent on unanswerable questions could be put to better use. If we can accept that God is good and bad things still happen, we can move on to address questions of a faith lived in the world as it really is: Whom shall we serve? How shall we love? Where is God leading us? Questions worth asking are worth living through.

Evening readings: Psalms 80; 27

Idols, Idols Everywhere

Today's readings: Psalms 123; 146, Isaiah 44:9-20, Ephesians 4:17-32, Mark 3:19b-35

The prophet Isaiah paints a very vivid picture of a man creating an idol. This man plants and nourishes a cedar. Half of it he uses as fuel for a fire he can use to roast meat and warm himself. The other half he carves into a god and worships. As far as Isaiah is concerned, he is worshipping the equivalent of the ashes left from his cook fire.

For some people, money is an idol, though it is no more than paper and stamped metal (and sometimes no more than a promise). For others it's a tribal affiliation, such as a political party whose platform is only as stable as it's electability. Still others idolize a denomination, the Bible, beauty, fame, or power. We may not call them idols, but they serve the same purpose and keep us from full relationship with the true God.

Even family can be an idol. When Jesus' family tries to call him away from the crowd gathered around him to hear his teachings, he declares: "Whoever does the will of God is my brother and sister and mother" (Mk 3:35). When we focus on immediate family to the exclusion of our greater family in God, we have created an idol. We need not reject our birth family, but we should be prepared to add to it.

What idols do we need to clear from our own lives? What draws focus and energy that belong to God? Perhaps it is a grudge we bear. Maybe it is an obsession with social status. It could be an addiction or a relationship or ... well, anything.

Anything we idolize is ultimately no more than ash destined to blow away on the wind. Only God is constant. We can appreciate the impermanent things of creation, but our love must be reserved for the eternal creator.

Evening readings: Psalms 30; 86

Make Straight The Path

Today’s readings: Psalms 104; 150, Isaiah 40:1-11, Hebrews 1:1-12, John 1:1-7, 19-20, 29-34

The prophet Isaiah, when addressing the exiled nation of Israel, talked about preparing a highway for the Lord. Mountains would be leveled and valleys filled in anticipation of His arrival. In that time and place, kings who planned to travel over difficult terrain would send workers out ahead of them to prepare the path for smooth travel. John the Baptist quotes Isaiah in expectation of the arrival of Christ, crying: “Make straight the way of the Lord!” (John 23) While Christ traveled many literal roads, God certainly doesn’t need a highway to enter any part of the world. What might it mean for us to prepare the way of the Lord?

Isaiah and John were both speaking to people living under oppression. The valleys and mountains represented obstacles that kept the people from experiencing the justice of God’s kingdom. Making them straight meant removing sources of injustice. It’s tempting to interpret the mountains as wealth and the valleys as poverty, and the leveling as an equalization, but justice is about more than wealth redistribution. Justice is about seeing and treating each other as the equally loved children of God that we are.

What obstacles do we need to remove today? Racism, sexism, ageism, homophobia, religious intolerance – these and other forms of oppression continue to exist. Laws may prohibit them, but not truly stop them. The poor and imprisoned can become trapped in legal but unmerciful systems designed to keep them poor and imprisoned. Human justice exists in courts, while God’s justice resides in our hearts.

The task of working for justice may seem as insurmountable as literally filling valleys and razing mountains, but as the king never sent out just one guy into the wilderness to ready the whole path, neither do we do it alone. Only a few of us are called to be on the front line leading the way, but each of us is called to participate in the successful completion of the project. Making straight the way of the Lord requires a community willing to band together to brave the wild places in our society. These places may be in our homes, our workplaces, our municipalities, or even our churches.

Where will you plant your shovel?

Evening readings: Psalm 29

Servant Leaders

Today's readings: Psalms 46 or 47; 149; Isaiah 65:13-16; Revelation 3:7-13; John 6:15-27

What would you do if the public wanted to crown you king or queen? Would you embrace it? Would you run away? Jesus chose the latter. After he fed thousands of people with just a few loaves and fishes, they wanted to make him king – by force if necessary. He escaped to the mountain to be alone.

When God told Isaiah he was to be a prophet, Isaiah resisted. He declared to God all the ways he felt unworthy of being God’s voice. Many (most?) of the prophets chronicled in the Bible resisted God’s call. As far back as Moses, who blamed his speech impediment and tried to push the job off on his brother Aaron – the people God has chosen to lead have shown reluctance.

When God knocks on the door, even to tell us we are fit to lead, we should be a little hesitant, maybe even fearful. The call is rarely easy. In his wisdom, God does not tend to choose leaders who are eager to embrace authority and power. Contrast this to our present-day system of secular leadership, where candidates spend millions of dollars telling you why they are unquestionably qualified for leadership, and their opponents barely deserve to participate in civil society. And religious leaders who seek power? We should always keep a critical eye on them.

Of course there are differences between people who seek power, and people who rise naturally to positions of leadership. For starters, the latter is much less common. The ability to acquire power is nothing like the ability to wield it wisely and justly. In hierarchical organizations, someone has to be at the top. The person who is the most eager, or eloquent, or assertive is not necessarily the best choice. The true sign of faithful leaders is a desire to serve not a term of office but the people who depend on them.

In God’s kingdom the last are first and the first are last. A true leader does not fear other leaders, but encourages them. A true leader does not control subjects, but empowers people. When we are called to leadership -  by God, people, or circumstance  - let us consider it humbly and prayerfully. When God calls us to lead, he calls us to serve.

Evening Psalms 27; 93 or 114

Humble Piety

Today's readings:  Psalms 46 or 47; 148; Isaiah 65:1-9; Revelation 3:1-6; John 6:1-14

The Gospels may be "The Good News," but a lot of Jesus' message is old hat. Centuries before Jesus taught people of his day that true obedience to God means embodying a spirit of mercy and justice - rather than mercilessly following the letter of the law - Old Testament prophets had tried to deliver the same message. Isaiah told the exiled nation of Israel she had lost God's favor because of her "holier than thou" attitude (not even paraphrasing - see Isaiah 65:5). Their burnt offerings, once a pleasing fragrance, became a stench in God's nostrils as they substituted outward piety for love and mercy.

Flash forward 800 years, and no one seems to have learned anything. The occupying force may have changed from Babylon to Rome, but the Jewish people still needed to hear they were like whitewashed tombs - dressed up on the outside, but decaying inside (Matt 23:27). Flash forward another millenium or two and - no surprise - followers of Jesus need to hear we might be a little too focused on displays of piety and not enough on mercy. Who are the prophets of the message this time? Certainly many voices from within the church, but more telling are the voices of outsiders looking in. Surveys consistently reveal that non-Christians perceive Christians as hypocritical and judgmental. When non-believers are filling in for Isaiah and Jesus, it's time to take note.

Misplaced piety seems to be a chronic condition of the faithful. And lest we begin to feel too superior for reigning in our own pious impulses ... that's a form of it also. The good (old) news is that prophets speak because there is always hope we will listen and change our ways. Sowing mercy and justice is challenging work. It's much more comfortable to check off lists and to follow familiar rules than to listen to the voices telling us we need to reevaluate what we think God wants from us - especially when that might mean others will look down on us. When we feel challenged, "Let anyone who has an ear listen to what the Spirit is saying to the churches" (Rev 3:6).

Evening readings: Psalms 27; 93 or 114

And Justice For All

Today's readings: Psalms 72; 145; Isaiah 49:1-7; Revelation 21:22-27; Matthew 12:14-21

The Gospels cite many passages from the Old Testament, particularly the prophets. Today’s reading from Matthew cites four verses from Isaiah which describe the humble way in which Jesus undertakes his mission of justice and mercy. The words originally applied to the exiled nation of Israel, similarly called by God to be a light to the world.

This call to justice is interesting, because it can be applied both internally and externally. Internally, Jesus is reminding the Jews that God desires mercy above sacrifice (he has just been condemned by religious leaders for committing the “sin” of performing a healing on the Sabbath). Externally, his message of justice for everyone is a thorn in the side of the Roman empire. No one is blameless, but all are worth redeeming.

It’s good to keep that thought in mind as we navigate through the modern world as well. When we perceive ourselves as the victims or the oppressed, it can be easy to overlook our own shortcomings. For evidence of this we can look to Washington, where each political party, once it takes power, attempts to justify behavior it has recently condemned in the other. Or we can look to the Christian church in America: as Americans become more diverse in belief and unbelief, many Christians mistake someone else’s free speech for an erosion of their own rights, and - ironically - attempt to clamp down on religious liberties. When the oppressed eventually find themselves in the position to oppress, our lesser nature usually asserts itself.

How can we avoid that trap? One way is to always focus on justice for others while we are seeking justice for ourselves. Martin Luther King famously said “"if one of us is not free, then none of us are truly free." Being oppressed by the Romans didn’t make the Jews more merciful to their own widows and orphans, so we should not assume that because we are oppressed we must be in the right, individually or as a group.

When Jesus tells us to pray for our enemies it is not just to adjust their attitude towards us, but equally to soften our hearts toward them.

Evening readings: Psalms 100; 67

By Any Other Name

Today's readings: Psalms 98; 147:1-11; Isaiah 62:1-5, 10-12; Revelation 19:11-16; Matthew 1:18-25

Biblical names – especially ones changed or bestowed by God – tell a story about the person to whom they belong. In today’s reading from Isaiah, the prophet tells the people of Israel that when God restores them, the name of their nation shall change from “Forsaken” to “My Delight Is In Her,” from “Desolate” to “Married” - symbolizing Israel’s relationship with God (Isa 62:2-4). It’s no coincidence that Joseph, the betrothed of Mary, receives instructions from God in dreams (Matt 1:18-25, and elsewhere); in the book of Genesis we met another Joseph who interpreted dreams and brought his family into Egypt.

Names are important to us, too. We are concerned with protecting our “good name.” We strive to “make a name” for ourselves. We agonize over picking just the right names for our children. If you were in a Bible story, what would your name mean to people? Solomon is synonymous with wisdom, Job with patience, and Methuselah with longevity. If two thousand years from now people read the story of your life, what traits would your name conjure? Are you satisfied with that image?

If yes, that’s an excellent indicator you are on the right path. If not … it’s never too late to make that name mean what you want. If you could pick a name to live up to, what would it be? Faith, Hope and Charity are names for a reason. Maybe you would choose something more literal, like “Comforts The Sick” or “Works for Justice.” What name describes the person you want to be? “Wise as Solomon” is taken, but there’s no reason people of the future couldn’t strive to be as “generous as Hector.”

What difference might it make in our personal and public lives if we started thinking of ourselves by another name, one we chose to define us? Or if we lived as though our current name already meant the thing we hope to be? New beginnings are possible at any time, but only if we are willing to let go of the limits we and the world have placed on our identities. A newly defined name, even one known only to you and God, is a good start.

Evening readings: Psalms 99; 8

Too Good To Be False

Today's readings: Psalms 103, 150; 2 Kings 20:1-21; Acts 12:1-17; Luke 7:11-17

[H]e did not realize that what was happening with the angel’s help was real; he thought he was seeing a vision.

Acts 12:9

Have you heard the one about the pious man trapped on his roof by a rising flood? The army, the navy and the marines all came by in boats and offered to rescue him, but he said he was waiting for the Lord to save him. Eventually the flood overwhelmed him. When he got to heaven, he asked God why his prayers went unanswered. God said "I sent you three different boats!"

Peter – Jesus named him "the rock" for a couple reasons – wasn't much better. When an angel came to rescue him from prison, he thought it was a vision; luckily – having experienced visions before – he followed instructions anyway and was freed. When the prophet Isaiah told King Hezekiah the Lord would spare him from death for 15 years so he could lead his people out of bondage, the King wouldn't believe without any less a sign than the sun moving backwards (2 Kings 20:8-11).

Sometimes the Lord's ways aren't all that mysterious, and for some reason that seems to be a stumbling block to faith. We are called to be the hands and feet of Christ (John 14:12), but when those hands and feet aren't pierced with nails or emitting a holy glow, we can struggle to recognize ourselves and others as the answers to prayer. How would it change your perspective on life to realize the answer to your prayer might not be divine intervention, but divinely-inspired human intervention? Or to realize that your action (or maybe just your presence) is the most miraculous thing someone could hope for? After all, the Spirit dwells in each and every one of us. Think on that for a moment…

We are wary of offers that sound too good to be true. A miracle around every corner sounds like one of those. Maybe the wonderful truth is miracles of hope, healing, reconciliation, generosity and comfort are as common as dirt … as long as we are willing to get our hands dirty.

Evening readings: Psalms 117, 139

Prepare Ye

Today's readings: Psalms 42, 146; Deuteronomy 6:16-25; Hebrews 2:1-10; John 1:19-28

When the Pharisees pressed John the Baptist to tell them who he thought he was, he replied: "I am the voice of one crying out in the wilderness, 'Make straight the way of the Lord'" as the prophet Isaiah said (John 1:23). Note that he did not say he was the one making the way straight, but was the one calling others to do so. He offered a rallying cry, but did not take it upon himself to fill the valleys and lower the mountains and level the rugged places (Isaiah 40:4). No, he left those duties to us.

If we look critically at the spiritual landscape of our local community, our nation or our world, can we claim we have carved out a straight path that will allow the glory of the Lord to be revealed to all (Isaiah 40:5)? Let's just say a lot of this highway project remains to be completed. Valleys of poverty too deep to see out of obscure that glory for many people. For others, it's mountains of wealth, power or other worldly distractions that block the line of sight between them and the Lord's revealed glory. How many pairings of mountains and valleys does our world contain? High and low social status. Casually discarding half-empty bottles of water versus surviving off dew gathered on tarps. Piles of diamonds towering above the graves of those who died to excavate them. Wouldn't it be wonderful if we could fill all the valleys simply by pushing the mountains into them?

The challenge isn't that simple, and none of us can complete this project alone. Some days the best we can do is to move one teaspoon of earth at a time, and not even all that without spilling some.  But John the Baptist, Isaiah, and all the prophets and saints keep calling to us: "Prepare ye the way of the Lord." As long as we keep to our task - spoon by spoon, shovel by shovel, mountain by mountain - we know the path of the Lord is that much closer to being prepared.

If it all seems overwhelming, perhaps we can begin by evening out the mountains and valleys - those things blocking God from view - in our own hearts. Maybe then we can be one of the countless stepping stones the Lord can use to stride to the places most in need.

Evening readings: Psalms 102, 133

Worshipping Poverty

Today's readings: Psalms 123, 146; Isaiah 44:9-20; Ephesians 4:17-32; Mark 3:19b-35

The book of Isaiah, across its many chapters and authors and decades of creation, includes multiple forms of writing from poetry to prose to apocalyptic texts. Today's reading includes a passage that is a blend of parable and narrative. It tells the story of a carpenter who plants a cedar tree and tends to it until it is large enough to cut for timber. Part of it he uses to build a fire, which he uses to warm himself, roast his meat and bake his bread. The other part he carves into an idol which he bows before and worships. The God of Israel looks upon the carpenter and asks why "he cannot save himself or say, 'Is not this thing in my right hand a fraud?'" (Is 44:20)

Rather than worship the God he was created to serve, the carpenter fabricated an idol from materials that served him. He chose wood, but the same principle has driven people to create idols of gold, wheat and fertility symbols to ensure an abundance of these things in their lives. Directed at idols, worship is not about love and gratitude, but an attempt of the worshipper to bribe and persuade the object of worship. Idols represent a theology of scarcity, while God is the center of a theology of abundance.

What idols do we create for ourselves? For each of us the answer to that question depends on what we fear we lack or may lack in the future. Our idols, then, are not surprising: money, accumulated to build a sense of security; sex, sought to convince us we are loved; power, hoarded so we do not feel our own powerlessness. The list goes on, of course. Note that - like wood or gold - none of these things are corrupt by nature. They become idols when we seek them more than we seek God, when we believe - sometimes without even realizing it - in poverty more than generosity.

Unlike God, idols can be destroyed because they have been created. That's good news, because when we find we have created an idol we have the power to rid ourselves of it. It may not be easy to learn or relearn to trust God alone, but in the end idols leave us with nothing anyway. God is always waiting with everything that matters.

Evening readings: Psalms 30; 86

Justice or Just You?

Today's readings: Psalms 50, 147:1-11; Isaiah 6:1-13; 2 Thessalonians 1:1-12; John 7:53-8:11

Today's readings contain a lot of words about justice. In Psalm 50, God is portrayed as a devouring fire and a mighty tempest delivering judgment (v 3-4). Smack in the middle of the verses of praise from Psalm 147, God is casting down the wicked (v 6). In Isaiah's vision cities are laid to waste and the land made desolate and reduced to stumps as a result of God's wrath and justice (6:11-13). In his letter Paul tells the Thessalonian church that "it is indeed just of God to repay with affliction those who afflict you" (v 6).

Then we get to one of the most famous stories in the Bible, the story of the woman who is about to be stoned for adultery. She gets to walk away when Jesus challenges anyone without sin to cast the first stone. Before he speaks that famous line, he squats down and starts writing on the ground. The Bible does not explain what he wrote, but several theories are floating around: he was stalling to collect his thoughts; he was cataloging the sins of her accusers; he was writing their names as a subtle way of displaying his supernatural knowledge. There's an intriguing case to be made that, per the prophecies of Jeremiah, he was the only one present actually interested in delivering justice as prescribed by the laws of the temple (which also required the presence of her conspicuously absent male cohort) and writing in the dirt was part of the ritual.

Whether any or none of those speculations is true, there is a powerful message in the uncertainty. Any one of us could think of something we would prefer Jesus not know about, let alone write down for the world to see. Thinking about our own shortcomings shifts our focus from justice to mercy. Too often justice is what we want to happen to other people, while mercy is what we hope for ourselves. Of course justice is important, but without mercy it is only revenge. When we stoop to pick up a rock, we're in a perfect position to read what's written in the dirt at our feet. Justice may be blind, but Jesus restores sight.

Evening readings: Psalms 53, 17

Love Story

Today's readings: Psalms 122, 145; Isaiah 5:8-17; 1 Thessalonians 5:1-11; Luke 21:20-28

"The course of true love never did run smooth."

- Shakespeare, A Midsummer Night's Dream, Act I, Scene I

Every classic love story involves obstacles the lovers must overcome before finally reuniting. Whether it's warring houses a la Romeo and Juliet, or Heath Ledger's bad boy reputation in 10 Things I Hate About You (a modern take on Taming of the Shrew), problems both tragic and comedic arise. The basic storyline has become cliched if not outright hackneyed, yet its appeal endures.

Maybe that's because history's ultimate love story, that between God and humanity, has repeated this pattern over and over. In this case though the obstacles are all one-sided. We repeatedly abandon God, but God never abandons us. It may feel that way when the fallout of our actions leaves us in an unGodly place - whether metaphorically or in the case of Isaiah's exiled audience quite literally - but God never initiates the "breakup."

If today's readings about destruction were part of a dramatic plot, we'd be squarely in the middle of Act IV: the lovers who thought they were destined to be together forever have been torn apart by [insert plot point here], while the party who seems more in control - in this story, God - is actually the one more wounded by the split. Our story is tragic in the sense that we are undone by our own pride and foolishness and must suffer terrible consequences we were warned to avoid. We know that in the end love triumphs in the person of Jesus Christ, but during Advent - and all the Advent-like seasons of our lives - we live into the uncertain waiting.

Advent helps us focus on what aspects of our love affair with God need tending so we might avoid or bridge that separation. We are called to ever deeper levels of communion with God, and this season encourages us to examine the personal and communal obstacles we need to address before that can happen. As the cycle of obstacles continues, so does the cycle of reunion - at Christmas, at Easter, at Pentecost and at various points in our lives when we reach Act V, and are reunited with God all over again. Be sure to stick around until the credits roll!

Evening readings: Psalms 40; 67

Hope

Today's readings: Psalms 90, 149; Isaiah 4:2-6; 1 Thessalonians 4:13-18; Luke 21:5-19

Now that it’s almost over, let’s consider the traditional theme of this first week of Advent: Hope. Does that seem inconsistent with the earlier posts of the week? We’ve spent a good chunk of time considering how not to be a Christian, and that doesn’t seem especially hopeful. But what is hope? It is the desire for, and possibly even the faith in, a better future. By definition, it implies at least some dissatisfaction with the present. There’s nothing wrong with being dissatisfied with our faith lives, with feeling that somehow they fall short of what they could be. Such feelings may even be essential to prodding us into deepening our relationship with God. It doesn’t mean our faith lives are not good and rich. Such dissatisfaction today, this week, this season, is an indicator that we hope they will be even better in days to come.

For hope to be more than a sentimental notion, we must face the things that we hope will change. Some of those things will be external, such as injustice, poverty and discrimination. Others like resentment, fear and hypocrisy will be internal. But being brutally honest about these things doesn’t mean we hand them power over our lives. Being able to name them takes that power away. The beauty of hope – a hope that is backed by the promises of Christ – is that it tells us we and the world are not defined by how we have failed, but by who God has created us to be. Many people – far too many, Christian and non-Christian – let mistakes and failures define how they see themselves and get trapped in those definitions. Hope is what we have when we can believe if only for an instant that God sees us as better than we see ourselves.

Isaiah had to show the Israelites their many failings and the inevitable consequences before he could show them the hope that lay beyond. Paul admitted the Thessalonians would have to confront danger head-on before finding the glory of God. Jesus told his listeners: “By your endurance you will gain your souls” ( Luke 21:19). Hope exists not because we are in denial about how bad things are today, but because God helps us see tomorrow.

Evening readings: Psalms 80, 72

Puzzling It Out

Today's readings: Ps 18:1-20, 147:12-20; Isaiah 2:5-22; 1 Thessalonians 3:1-13; Luke 20:27-40

Now he is God not of the dead, but of the living; for to him all of them are alive.
- Luke 20:38

When Jesus describes the Lord as a "God of the living" what are the implications? On one level he is specifically addressing the Sadducees who do not believe in resurrection and are trying to trip him up. On another (and when is the meaning of anything Jesus says not multi-layered?) he - or at least the author of Luke - is pointing out the futility of trying to cram God and God's kingdom into the countless tiny human-made fragments that describe and limit our faith. If we treat them like they are pieces of a coherent puzzle and try to force them into a single picture, we soon learn that not only are we missing countless pieces, but the ones we have didn't come out of the same box. The only way we can make them fit inside the frame is to tear off the inconvenient bits and pound them flat.

No wonder the picture of Christianity can often make so little sense, especially to outsiders. Because not knowing can be uncomfortable or even scary, we can waste a lot of time playing with those pieces; dollars to donuts the Sadducees had wrestled with the "which husband in heaven" question before. Spending our time this way does not engage us with the "God of the living" - instead it pulls away from life and all its messiness.

An insistence on theological tidiness, especially about unknowable things like the afterlife, doesn't make us better believers. Mystics of any faith, to a person, describe the moment of divine revelation as a moment of surrender to mystery. The wisest people admit to knowing nothing.

Getting stuck in "head" religion ultimately leads to frustration. Thinking you lack spiritual wisdom because you don't know the right terms or scripture quotes is just not true. God is in living hearts, not dead pages. Christ is called the Living Word because he informs and moves through the world, not because we can read about him.

Rather than "bow down to the work of [our] own hands" (Isa 2:8) by trying to stuff God into the ideas we've created, let's trust that God is present with us in the glorious chaos of life.

Evening readings: Psalms 126, 62

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

A Relationship With Mystery, Pt. 4

Today's readings: Ps 93, 147:12-20; Isa 25:1-9; Rev 1:9-20; John 7:53-8:11

Isaiah 25:8 looks toward the day when “God will wipe away the tears from all faces, and the disgrace of his people he will take away from all the earth.” Today’s reading from Revelation begins to introduce John’s vision of Christ’s victory over all the evils in the world. Both are standard readings for the Christmas season, as we celebrate Christ’s arrival in the world. To which victory of the Lord do these readings really refer?

On Tuesday we touched on the idea that ancient people read scripture with a different understanding of time and meaning than we might. While Isaiah’s vision was about the eventual restoration of a Jewish people exiled in Babylon, early Christians co-opted it to tell of the coming of the Messiah. This approach might seem odd to modern sensibilities, but for people of the time it was part and parcel of an understanding that God’s plan of salvation unfolds in the past, present and future.

Isaiah 25 belongs to a genre known as apocalyptic literature (Isaiah—an early form—is more properly classified as proto-apocalyptic). Revelation is also apocalyptic literature. Typical of the genre, both blur the lines between the past and the future. Apocalyptic literature is not so concerned with historicity or specific prophecy as with the idea of the cosmic story of salvation. Time is fluid in these writings because God is always revealed anew to us, and the world is always being remade.

Apocalyptic literature invites us to dwell in the mystery of God’s unfolding plan, better expressed through visions and dreams than facts. The events have already happened, yet are still to happen. This paradox offers confidence that change will come, because it has come. During the Civil War and Civil Rights eras, African-Americans and their allies found inspiration in apocalyptic themes, which assured God’s eventual deliverance. Though mysterious, these themes were comforting.

If we read Isaiah only for the past, or Revelation only for the future, we miss the message of what God is doing today.

Comfort: God’s plan is unfolding—and we are part of it.

Challenge: Watch the news for modern stories of God’s deliverance.

Prayer: God of Mystery, thank you for your people’s dreams and visions.

Evening reading: Ps 89


Tomorrow's readings: Ps 98, 148; Isa 26:1-6; 2 Cor 5:16-6:2; John 8:12-19

Lamenting Social Injustice

Today's readings: Ps 122, 145; Isa 5:8-17; 1 Thes 5:1-11; Luke 21:20-28

“Social Justice” is a hot button topic among Christians. For some, it has become a code phrase for political applications of liberal theology. Conservatives use it to accuse liberals of building entitlement or socialist government programming. Conversely, liberals may embrace it to paint conservatives as selfish or uncharitable. The truth is, every Christian wants a just society, but we might differ on the means of achieving it.

American culture tends to equate justice with punishment. We create thousands of laws to punish the guilty, but spend comparatively little effort on ensuring society takes care of its poor and needy. We balk at the idea that what we own may be an impediment to justice for someone else. However, the lament beginning with Isaiah 5:8 provides a common sense commentary on the economics required to foster a just society:

“Ah, you who join house to house, who add field to field, until there is room for no one but you, and you are left to live alone in the midst of the land!”

In God’s realm there is enough for everyone, but we thwart the system when we amass more than we really require. We don’t all need to earn equal wages or own equal property, but we do need to work toward a society where everyone has at least what they need. And our feelings about what people may or may not deserve don’t count as much as we might like them to. Contrary to popular sentiment, Christ doesn’t ask us to evaluate what we think people deserve, but to evaluate how we as individuals and communities use the gifts God has given us to serve others. The change giving creates in the heart of the giver is as important as the need met for the receiver. Just as nothing really belongs to Caesar, nothing belongs to us either. Do we live like we believe that?

True peace is not just the absence of conflict, but the presence of a just society. A society is just when we are as concerned about the “least of us” as we are about ourselves.

Comfort: Justice costs less than selfishness.

Challenge: Take a hard look at whether you are using the resources God has entrusted to you to foster a just society.

Prayer: God of Peace help me create Your justice.

Evening readings: Ps 40, 67

Discarding Idols

Today's readings: Ps 18:1-20, 147:12-20; Isaiah 2:5-22; 1 Thes 3:1-13; Luke 20:27-40

Isaiah is an Advent staple because it speaks vividly of preparing ourselves for what it is to come. Today’s passage speaks about the consequences of worshipping idols. Unlike Isaiah’s contemporaries, we probably don’t encounter many literal idols, or hand-crafted gods. However, Isaiah’s words about idols are still worth hearing today.

Isaiah’s people were constantly exposed to cultures who worshipped idols. Jews, whose God was unseen, were lured by the comfort of deities they could identify or even touch. We aren’t much concerned today that our Christian faith is threatened by golden calves, but we should be concerned about the power of man-made idols to stand between us and God.

For now, let’s define an idol to be anything we prioritize above God, if only fleetingly. We could list money, popularity, power, possessions, security, pride, comfort, etc. We may not actually worship these things as gods, but can we admit we are at least tempted to prioritize some of them before God? There’s nothing wrong with a nice car, lots of friends or a healthy 401k, but we must keep them in perspective. Taking an ethical stand in the workplace might cost us friends or a promotion, but we should not value those above our faith and principles. Such betrayals do more long-term damage to our spirits than any short-term gains are worth.

We should also be wary of idols disguised as faith. We don’t want to be like the pious man who shushed the beggar because she was interrupting his prayers to be more generous. Maybe we want to believe we have this Christian thing all sewn up because we can quote the Bible and avoid the right sins and study the right doctrine, as if reaching and maintaining some spiritual goal weight. If these things interfere with our ability to have a true relationship with God and with each other as Christ taught us, they have become idols. If God always thinks like we do, then we’ve made an idol of our ego and certainty. We can even make an idol of the Bible: some used it to justify African American slavery, clearly contrary to God’s love, and others use it to promote injustice even today.

Idols diminish our understanding of God. To prepare our hearts for Christ, we must empty them of idols. He will take up all the space we can offer!

Comfort: If our heart is empty of idols, God will find many ways to fill it.

Challenge: For the rest of the week, pray to recognize your idols.

Prayer: God of Hope, help me clear away my idols to make room for you.

Evening readings: Ps 126, 62

Tomorrow's readings: Ps 102, 148; Isa 3:1-4:1; 1 Thes 4:1-12; Luke 20:41-21:4