Ash Wednesday: Turn Around, Jonah

Today's readings: Psalms 5, 147:1-11; Jonah 3:1-4:11; Hebrews 12:1-14; Luke 18:9-14

When most people think of the story of Jonah, they think of "Jonah and the Whale" or the great fish that carried him in its belly to dry land. While that may be the most spectacular element of the story, it is not the most important. Today's reading comes from the end of the story, when Jonah has preached to the Ninevites as the Lord commanded him to do. He is despondent because the Ninevites - enemies who oppressed his people - have taken his warning to heart and repented, and worse yet the Lord has forgiven and spared them from destruction. Jonah is so upset he retreats to the edge of town, where the hot sun beats down on him, and tells the Lord he would rather die than be party to the Ninevite's salvation. The Lord, of course, sees it differently.

Lent is a time to meditate on our own need to repent, to turn away from our sins and towards our God. Jonah's story reminds us repentance comes in many forms. Are we Ninevites, blatantly disregarding God? If so, we can decide right now to accept God's eternally open invitation to reconciliation. When we truly repent we won't need to wear sackcloth like the real Ninevites for the change to be obvious. Jonah, it turns out, is a tougher nut to crack. He clings so tightly to his hatred of the Ninevites that he resents God's mercy and willingness to forgive them. If we are religious people who think we've got it right, self-reflection might reveal we're Jonahs. We might not be able to accept deep down that those who aren't quite getting it right, or who have done us wrong, or who aren't repenting in the ways we think they should, are equally beloved by God. Being "in the right" can blind us to just how wrong our hearts are.

This Lent, let's reflect on how we might repent and forgive those who challenge us. Not only does God forgive them, but He invites us to be part of the whole process. That means we can't sit on our cushion of resentment watching them from afar, but that we must learn to live in the thick of them, loving them even when we can't like them. We will know we have repented when, no matter which way we turn, we face God.

Evening readings: Psalms 27, 51

Dropping Our Stones

Today's readings: Psalms 42; 146, Genesis 26:1-6, 12-33, Hebrews 13:17-25, John 7:53-8:11

Today’s story from John about a woman caught in adultery is the source of the saying: “Let he who is without sin cast the first stone.” One of the best known stories about Jesus, it is ironically considered one of the least authenticated. Early manuscripts of John don’t include it, and in later ones it varies slightly. Perhaps the story persists because its message is so essentially Christ-like.

Under Mosaic law, punishment for women committing adultery was death by stoning. The scribes and Pharisees brought such a woman before Jesus and tested his observance of the law by asking what should be done with her. Jesus initially responded by stooping and writing on the ground. Some apocryphal versions of the text say he was writing the sins of everyone present. Others have theorized it was a stalling tactic. Either way, this action teaches us a valuable lesson: Christ has little interest in hearing us recount the shortcomings of other people.

When he instructed the person without sin to cast the first stone, the crowd of course dispersed. Christ knew an honest examination of our own lives generates humility and mercy. When he and the woman were left alone, he declined to condemn her and instructed her to “go and sin no more” (John 8:11). Whether this event is historical or not, it illuminates truth that transcends fact: Christ is more interested in freeing us for the future than in chaining us to the past.

“Sin no more” does not excuse past actions – it is a call to repentance. True repentance doesn’t mean feeling guilty and sorry, but going in a new direction. Punishing others through guilt only hitches them to the past, and prevents them from moving in any direction. Allowing ourselves to be punished by guilt – even self-inflicted – is just as counter-productive. Following Jesus’ example means trusting others and ourselves to acknowledge mistakes, change direction, and do our best not to make them again. Jesus loves everyone enough to leave the past in the past, and to let everyone move toward a future of endless possibility. First, everyone needs to put down the stones.

Evening readings: Psalms 102; 133

Forgiveness First

Today's readings: Psalms 97, 147:12-20; Isaiah 41:17-29; Ephesians 2:11-22; Mark 2:1-12

In today's Gospel reading, Jesus spoke  to a large crowd gathered in and around his home. As he did so, "some people came, bringing to him a paralyzed man, carried by four of them. And when they could not bring him to Jesus because of the crowd, they removed the roof above him; and after having dug through it, they let down the mat on which the paralytic lay. When Jesus saw their face, he said to the paralytic, 'Son, your sins are forgiven'" (Mark 2:3-5). The scribes present were offended that Jesus felt he had the authority to forgive sins. The man lowered through the roof may have been more than a litle disappointed his faith was rewarded with forgiveness and not healing. His friends were probably not looking forward to carrying him back.

As he always seems to do, Jesus turns the situation on its head. To demonstrate to the scribes the level of his authority, Jesus commands the man to pick up his mat and walk. What's a little forgiveness compared to a miracle? While we have a suspicion Jesus intended to heal the man all along, his decision to first emphasize forgiveness is a powerful statement. In the text leading to this moment, Jesus seems increasingly exasperated by the folks following him to receive and witness miracles. While these are signs of his authority, they are only signs - which exist to point to something more important.

The most important healing Jesus offers is not of our temporal bodies, but of our eternal relationship with God. Some of us are convinced we are unworthy, and live our whole lives as if that was true. Others place blame on everyone else and live lives of petty grudges. Both situations demonstrate a lack of faith in forgiveness. These mindsets can be nearly impossible to shake. When we can fully accept that love and forgiveness are at the core of our beings and the center of our relationship with God, well ... there's the miracle.

Healing is not the end of the story, but the beginning. Once we accept God's love and forgiveness, we can in turn love and forgive ourselves and each other. We heal the world. We are resurrected.

Evening readings: Psalms 16, 62

Look at me!

Today's readings: Ps 102, 148; Isa 3:1-4:1;1 Thess 4:1-12; Luke 0:41-21:4

Beware the religious. At least (according to today's reading from Luke) those people who wear religion on their sleeves - or in the case of the case of the scribes, the sleeves of their excessively long robes. And those who make a public display of long prayers (v 20:46-47). Jesus is quick to point out the hypocrisy when outer forms of religion are counter to a person's inner state. Not everyone with a Jesus fish (ichthus) bumper sticker is devouring widows' houses (v 20:47), but if they do the disparity is all the more egregious for their display. The flip side is the martyr who just won't die - the person who abases him or herself unnecessarily (but quite obviously) in an insincere humility.

The bottom line: religious and pious efforts should be inwardly directed. Incidentally, the irony of that last statement coming from the creator of a devotional blog is not lost... There's nothing wrong with outward symbols of our faith as long as we're not using them to impress others with how holy we are. Having the fanciest Bible cover in Sunday school or sporting an "In God We Trust" license plate only invites scrutiny, and does little if anything to spread the Gospel. Neither does telling anyone who will listen the story of how we got stuck in the kitchen during the potluck because no one else would lift a finger to do all those dishes.

About the worst message we can send to non-believers is that Christians are somehow perfected by our faith. First it obviously isn't true (compare divorce rates between Christians and non-Christians for a start), and more importantly it's exactly counter to the message of the Gospel. We are not nor do we need to be (or appear to be) perfect: even better, we are forgiven! One way we can respond to God's forgiveness is to readily forgive ourselves and others. When we falter, any resulting distance between us and God is entirely of our own making. It takes more time than putting on a "Jesus Saves" t-shirt in the morning, but showing people that we remain in God's love despite our imperfections is about the best testimony we can give!

Evening Readings: Ps 130, 16

A Relationship With Mystery, Pt. 2

Today's readings: Ps 2, 146; Isa 49:13-23, 54:1-13; Matt 18:1-14

In its original Aramaic, the Lord’s Prayer contains verb tenses that don’t exist in English. Where we speak of this day’s daily bread, the Aramaic speaks of today’s needs and simultaneously of needs yet to be. A people with this language can comprehend multiple levels of meaning for the same words and texts. Torah scholars today juggle its many levels. This concept is difficult for most of us, but it can help us understand how yesterday in Psalm 145 the Lord was slow to anger, and today in Psalm 2 this same Lord is one whose wrath is quickly kindled. Where we see contradiction, the original authors saw complexity.

If we are uncomfortable with uncertainty, such highly nuanced reading may be difficult for us, because firm answers will elude us. Yet, if we are to read scripture well, should we at least try to understand the mindset of its authors? These attempts may pit literal readings against a more contextual understanding. Take for example the practice of reparative therapy—that is, the attempt to “change” gay and lesbian people into heterosexuals. Providers of such therapy may believe they are saving people’s souls, but evidence shows this therapy to be unsuccessful. To the contrary, it is more likely to cause frustration or despair when people “fail” the process. Its young victims, when forced to choose between an immutable identity and rigid dogma often leave the church . How does this outcome relate to Jesus’ words that “If anyone causes one of these little ones—those who believe in me—to stumble, it would be better for them to have a large millstone hung around their neck and to be drowned in the depths of the sea” (Matt 18:6)? If, in the interest of curing an immediate sin, we drive someone away from God entirely, what does that say about our relationship to God and creation?

Our relationship to the sins—real or perceived—of others is a deeply complex one. We are called simultaneously to accountability (Matt 18:15-20) and to unlimited forgiveness (Matt 18:21-22). Only by opening ourselves to the mystery of God’s complexity can we be led.

Comfort: You are not the only one who doesn’t understand it all.

Challenge: The next time someone sins against you, try juggling the ideas of holding someone accountable while forgiving them..

Prayer: God of Mystery, help me balance righteousness and mercy.

Evening reading: Ps 110, 111

Tomorrow's readings: Ps 96, 147:1-11; Isa 12:1-6; Rev 1:1-8; John 7:37-52

Running Away From God

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