Saturday, February 14, 2015

Stop! Collaborate and listen.

Today's readings: Psalms 104; 149, Isaiah 61:10 - 62:5, 2 Timothy 4:1-8, Mark 10:46-52

Today in Mark, we read the story of a blind beggar who was sitting by the roadside when Jesus passed by on his way out of Jericho. When he realized it was Jesus, he began to cry out to him, but many people tried to silence him. Mark doesn’t identify these people who “ordered him to be quiet” (Mark 10:48), but the implication is they were followers of Christ. The blind man’s persistence paid off when Jesus stopped to wait for him, then healed him saying: “Go; your faith has made you well” (v 52).

Have we ever been one of the silencers? For example, during Sunday worship as we follow Jesus down the road from the first hymn to the eventual benediction and dismissal, we aren’t generally fond of interruptions. How would we react to a blind beggar shouting out in faith in the middle of that journey? To a crying baby and exhausted mother? To a grieving widower who sobs when the joyful song we are singing reminds him of the wife he just lost? We might actually shush them, or we might rely on the pressure of the group to do so, or we could ignore their obvious need. In any case, the message is clear: don’t interrupt.

Sure we could dismiss them as inconsiderate: why can’t they wait for an appropriate moment? Yet what moment could be more appropriate than a gathering of the followers of Jesus – the man who knew he was on the road to crucifixion but stopped in his tracks when someone cried out? In worship or in everyday life, following Jesus means stopping where he would stop. We can’t expect need and pain to wait until a convenient break in the scheduled activities to express themselves; otherwise we’ve marched Jesus right out of town.

While we can’t reasonably run down every side street searching for blind beggars, let’s be careful not to ignore or silence the needy right in our path because we have a well-crafted agenda that doesn’t involve them. Worship is more than formal prayer and praise; it is any expression of love and gratitude for God and his creation. Sometimes an interruption is an opportunity to do our most meaningful worship.

Evening readings: Psalms 138; 98

Friday, February 13, 2015

Get Over It

Today's readings: Psalms 51; 148, Isaiah 61:1-9, 2 Timothy 3:1-17, Mark 10:32-45

When Christians gain power, trouble follows. Before we get too bent out of shape over that statement, let's just be clear it's true about any religion. Some Christians like to claim we live in a nation that is – or at least should be – Christian. What exactly does that mean? Which particular branch of Christianity are they referring to? And most importantly what part of the teachings of Jesus leads them to believe political power is a good influence on Christian character – or vice versa?

Jesus tells his disciples time and again, they are meant to be servants as he is a servant. To be first, they must be slaves of all (Mark 10:44). In one sense we are fortunate to live in a time and place where our faith is not a threat to our well-being. On the other hand, having been told that we should expect persecution, we have greatly skewed our sense of what that means. Because we have no reason to fear martyrdom, we fear that any loosening of our grasp on power and control is a form of persecution. For evidence we only need look as far as the trumped up War on Christmas: why would we ever expect places of commerce to assert our religious beliefs? Then there's the outrage over religious displays that have been removed from government property or – worse yet! – made inclusive. Government recognition of a religion makes us beholden to that government – the very antithesis of what Jesus taught.

In twenty-first century America we simply don't suffer any real persecution for our faith – unless allowing people to disagree with us or having our feelings hurt has become a form of persecution. So perhaps instead of railing against perceived slights, we should be celebrating them! When we rub society the wrong way, we're just doing our job. When we rub other Christians the wrong way, we're probably earning overtime. Paul says "all who want to live a godly life in Christ Jesus will be persecuted" (Tim 3:12). When we settle for becoming outraged at someone who thinks we shouldn't get to tell them how to live, we demonstrate our faith is too weak to handle the persecution ladled on those who truly spread the Good (but sometimes unpopular) News.

Evening readings: Psalms 142; 65

Wednesday, February 11, 2015

Broken Relationships

Today's readings: Psalms 89:1-18; 147:1-11, Isaiah 59:1-21, 2 Timothy 1:15-2:13, Mark 10:1-16

Time after time, Jesus taught his followers love, mercy, and justice supersede any technically correct but unjust applications of the law. He ate with "unclean" sinners (Mark 2). He violated the Sabbath laws to heal (Mark 3 and elsewhere) and declared the Sabbath was made for man, not the other way around. He declared all foods "clean" (Mark 7).  He criticized religious leaders for their hypocrisy (chapter all-of-them). It must have felt like he was tossing out the rulebook. Until the Pharisees asked about divorce.

Suddenly Jesus was proposing stricter standards, saying Moses permitted divorce only because his people were stubborn and those who remarried committed adultery (10:2-10). Does this seem like an unexpected turn? Not if we understand that Jesus also calls us to integrity. A man could divorce his wife regardless of his wife's wishes. After that he owed her nothing, and she could easily end up a beggar in the street. Consigning someone to such a fate because someone else caught your eye was the opposite of merciful and just.

While modern day divorce does not generally result in such extreme circumstances, it is always unfortunate. Society expects (insists?) divorcing parties to be antagonistic, or even vindictive. Yet as we do in all situations, we have the choice to act with integrity. For ourselves and our children, we should do our best to remember the other person is a beloved child of God, whom we once professed to love as well.

Relationships of all kinds strain and break, but as members of the body of Christ we remain united at some level. Even when we can't stand each other - maybe especially then - the route of mercy and justice leads us home to wholeness.

Evening readings: Psalms 1; 33

Tuesday, February 10, 2015

There is no eye in team Jesus

Today's readings: Psalms 42; 146, Isaiah 58:1-12, 2 Timothy 1:1-14, Mark 9:42-50

One of the difficulties of being an original disciple might have been figuring out when to take Jesus literally, and when he was exaggerating to make a point. The book of Acts and the letters of Paul don't tell any stories of one-handed, one-eyed evangelists, so they seem to have assumed the latter when he said "If your hand causes you to stumble, cut it off" (Mk 9:43) and "if your eye causes you to stumble, tear it out" (v 47).

Jesus was not advocating self-mutilation. He was telling us we need to remove from our lives anything that leads us toward sin and away from God. His choice of imagery tells us this process may be painful, and that we may be called to separate ourselves from things we hold dear. If "it is better [...] to enter life lame than to have two feet and to be thrown into hell" (vv 45-46), surely we can examine our own lives for obstacles we need to remove.

Maybe we need to free ourselves of an addiction. Or maybe our words are wicked with gossip. Is there a relationship we prioritize above our faith? Do we love the sound of jingling coins too much to give them away? Tongues, loins, ears ... Jesus could have used any body parts to make his point that no matter how painful it seems in the short term, we must give up things - no matter how treasured or vital they seem - that hold us back from entering fully into the life he offers.

Christ doesn't ask us to give these things up simply to exercise power over us. Every bad habit and unhealthy behavior we lop off makes room for a more abundant life. When our spirits are unburdened, our hands, feet, and  eyes - all our parts - are unlikely to betray us. As backwards as it may seem, sometimes we must cut parts away to find wholeness.

Evening readings: Psalms 102; 133

Monday, February 9, 2015

Last / First


If you’ve been on a job interview in the last fifteen years or so, there’s a good chance you’ve been asked: “Where do you see yourself five years from now?” Potential employers ask this question hoping to determine how well the position fits with your goals and motivation. Imagine you are applying for the position of president of a Fortune 500 company, then imagine answering this question with: “I’m hoping to be in an entry-level position in the mail room by then.”

That would be a pretty crazy answer – unless you were interviewing for the position of disciple. Jesus had some fairly unorthodox recruiting techniques (“Hey, Peter and Andrew! Quit your jobs and follow me!”) so it’s no surprise his career advice was unconventional as well. When the disciples were arguing about which of them was the greatest, Jesus told them: “Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all” (Mk 9:35). When following Jesus, success means service.

This doesn’t mean we should suppress or hide our own gifts and contributions, or that we can’t be leaders. To the contrary, we should fully use all the talents at our disposal to the glory of God. We can even apply for that CEO position, as long as in all things we are serving as Christ commanded. No matter how successful the world tells us we might be, God’s criteria for success include how welcoming we are to children (v 37) or whether we give a thirsty person a cup of water (v 41). We can serve from a penthouse or a cardboard box, but we must serve.

Servant leadership costs us. Sometimes that cost may be social standing and higher earnings, other times it may be our safety. Paul bore the marks of servant leadership on his body in the form of scars from beatings he received for spreading the gospel (Gal 6:17). We don’t aspire to these hardships or offer them as proof of our superior humility , but if necessary, we modestly accept them. They prepare us for a career of Christ-like leadership. If someone asks us where we want to be in five years, are we ready to say “last of all?”


Evening readings: Psalms 82, 29

Saturday, February 7, 2015

Susan Werner - "Probably Not"

Related to today's post about faith and doubt. Susan Werner is a gem.



When in doubt...


Today's readings: Psalms 63, 149; Isaiah 56:1-8; Galatians 5:25-6-10; Mark 9:14-29

Doubt is an inescapable factor of the human condition. From checking an iron we aren’t sure we unplugged to wondering whether a God could possibly exist, we all experience doubt, most of us on a fairly regular basis. Many of us fall prey to the false choice between doubt and faith. In a world that emphasizes an "either/or" mentality, we can find it difficult if not sometimes impossible to embrace a "both/and" perspective. It is entirely possible to balance both doubt and faith in our lives.

After her death, Mother Teresa became a famous example of the embodiment of both doubt and faith. The publication of her private papers revealed her inner struggle with God and faith. For some people, this revelation confirmed their skepticism of faith. But rather than undermine her previous image, perhaps it really served to make her more accessible: if such a revered religious figure struggled with the same doubts we do, our faith also has the potential to be as great as hers.

Jesus did not turn away doubters. One day a man brought his son to Jesus. The main claimed a demon had struck the boy mute and convulsed him with seizures. When the man asked Jesus to help "if you are able" (Mark 9:22), Jesus replied all things were possible to those who believed (v 23). The man replied "I believe; help my unbelief!" (v 24). Could there be a more desperate, humble and honest response? Jesus went on to heal the boy through prayer. Yet this man, while his belief was bolstered in the moment, certainly continued to experience doubt throughout his life, just as the rest of us do.

We are built to juggle contradictory emotions and ideas. At a good memorial or wake, we grieve loss and laugh at memories. Sending a child to the first day of kindergarten or college is often bittersweet. Our relationships with loved ones are a complicated mix of love, anger and countless other simultaneous feelings. These conflicting emotions do not invalidate each other or the experiences that drive them. God has given us the ability to harbor both faith and doubt, so let us use each wisely.

Evening readings: Psalms 125, 90

Friday, February 6, 2015

That was fast...

Read this article minutes after posting today's devotional on Christianity's self-inflicted PR problem. The author isn't making that point specifically, but it's a sad illustration.

Beautifully Broken

Today’s readings: Psalms 84; 148, Isaiah 55:1-13, Galatians 5:16-24, Mark 9:2-13

Christians have an image problem. Like any other group in the age of the 24-hour news cycle, our most extreme and attention-grabbing brothers and sisters make the news and tell our story … whether we’d like them to or not. When a tiny church comprised of a handful of family members pickets military funerals to protest homosexuality, they make national headlines for years. A “family-values” politician caught in an affair becomes a media spectacle and fodder for those who would point out Christian hypocrisy. These types of public relations problems are not unique to Christians, or even religious groups. The public is fascinated with scandals, especially when they involve someone who has portrayed him- or herself as a “righteous” person.

Paul seems to draw distinct lines between the drunken, quarrelsome fornicators who will not inherit the kingdom of God, and the joyful, generous peacemakers who will (Gal 5:19-23). We want to heed his words: for good or ill, the behaviors he describes do have consequences in our lives and relationships with God and each other. As Christians we can feel pressure to appear as if we have all the good qualities and none of the bad. In reality, we have the same faults and foibles as everyone else, and when we pretend otherwise, people can practically smell the insincerity. Humbly acknowledging our own flaws doesn’t diminish our witness. To the contrary it tells the true story of grace: not that we become perfect, but that we accept God’s love despite our imperfections.

Acknowledging our flaws doesn’t mean we should settle for them. As we grow in our faith, our behaviors and attitudes will reflect that growth. When someone is thoroughly grounded in her or his faith, other struggling people – believers and non-believers alike – feel comfortable enough with that person to be truthful. To love like God loves, we must recognize a person’s brokenness without defining them by it. Let’s do our part to fix that image problem by showing the world following Christ means being humble and truthful. As Christ’s broken body heals the world, our broken and contrite hearts do also.

Evening readings:  Psalms 25; 40

Thursday, February 5, 2015

Slaves To Love

Today's readings: Psalms 116; 147:12-20, Isaiah 54:1-10 (11-17), Galatians 5:1-15, Mark 8:27-9:1

For you were called to freedom, brothers and sisters; only do not use your freedom as an opportunity for self-indulgence, but through love become slaves to one another.
- Galatians 5:13
Culture wars in the United States focus on rights and freedoms. Conflict arises when one faction views a gain of rights by the opposition as a loss of freedom for its own: gay marriage vs. religious liberty; public displays of religious symbols vs. separation of church and state; federal regulations vs. states’ rights, etc. We tend to think of freedom as the “right” to do the things we want. Compare this idea to the above quote from Paul’s letter to the Galatians. Paul’s idea of the freedom granted us through Christ is not about indulging our “rights” but about joyously embracing our responsibilities.

In Paul’s vision, we are responsible to each other to a degree he compares to slavery. The idea that someone else’s well-being is my responsibility is not capitalist, democratic, or libertarian. Strictly speaking neither is it socialist nor communist, though claiming these ideals might get you branded as such. Christian principles transcend economics and politics of every stripe. Consistently applied, they will manage to offend almost everyone who defines his or her identity primarily through a political or economic affiliation. We may claim and even believe we identify primarily as followers of Christ, but if our worldview involves rationalizing away the idea of loving enslavement to one another, we are mistaken.

In John 15:13 Jesus states: “Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one's life for one's friends.” This statement is about more than being willing to take a bullet. It is about living in a way that makes us as accountable for the lives of others as for our own. This is not a typical modern western attitude – in fact it seems counterintuitive. It redefines a successful life as one that is not about itself. But following Christ means following him out of step with the culture around us. First and foremost we are residents of the kingdom of heaven, and it doesn’t grant dual citizenship.

Evening readings: Psalms 26; 130

Tuesday, February 3, 2015

Thanks In Advance

Today’s readings: Psalms 12; 146, Isaiah 52:1-12, Galatians 4:12-20, Mark 8:1-10

Why do we say, “Thank you?”

From childhood many of us are taught to sprinkle our conversation with a generous seasoning of “thank yous” until it becomes more of a reflex than a spontaneous outpouring.  Most of the time we say it after we’ve received something, such as a gift or a compliment. The sentiment behind our thanks may vary. Much (maybe most) of the time we are genuinely grateful for what we’ve received. Other times we may be humbled. And then there are those times we may feel unworthy of what we’ve received. Like many phrases which seem simple and easy to interpret, “Thank you” can turn out to be quite complicated.

When Jesus asked the disciples to feed thousands of people with a few fish and loaves of bread, he began the meal by giving thanks to God. This may seem little different than the grace said before a typical church pot luck, but there is one important difference: Jesus hadn’t received anything yet. Even though we say grace in advance of a meal, we know there is a meal waiting to be had. For what was Jesus thankful? Perhaps for the faith that God would provide.

Some people believe thanking God, or the universe, in advance is part of a formula for actualizing your desires. Beginning from a place of thanks is much simpler than that: it helps us acknowledge that what we have is enough, and when we have enough we find it easier to share with those who do not. The idea of saying grace is tied primarily to meals (partly because people were literally praying the food would not kill them), but what if we said a prayer of thanks before a wider range of activities? Thanking God for the time, money, resources, and love in our lives – in advance of the time we need or share them – can greatly improve our attitudes and outlook.

Let’s not reserve our thanksgiving until after we have received. Let’s give thanks in advance for whatever it is God may place in our lives, and we will be prepared to put those gifts to use in ways beyond imagining.

Evening readings:  Psalms 36; 7

Saturday, January 31, 2015

The Moral Arc

Morning readings: Psalms 122; 149, Isaiah 51:1-8, Galatians 3:23-29, Mark 7:1-23

The Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr. famously said: "The arc of the moral universe is long but it bends toward justice." He was not the first to use this particular metaphor. In 1857 Unitarian minister Theodore Parker used it in a sermon against slavery. Between Parker and King, other religious referenced the "moral arc." This image endures because because it bears out over time. Over the centuries, as prejudices become less acceptable, more and more people have gained access to freedom and justice .

Jesus constantly expanded the circle of justice to include the disenfranchised and despised. As Paul wrote to the Galatians: "There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus." (Gal 3:28). Distinctions that separate human beings from one another have no meaning in the kingdom of God. Since Paul's time, the moral arc has led the church to remove divisions and champion justice in the form of abolition, civil rights, child labor laws, and other progressive social movements. Like society at large, the church experiences an uneven ebb and flow of progress, but on the whole it moves in the direction of justice. What barriers to justice are eroding right now?

Popular wisdom says that once we get to know individuals  or groups, we are more inclined to consider them equal and treat them justly. While this is generally true, and while it is desirable to broaden our understanding of the world by getting to know people, a hard truth remains: we simply don't have time to understand all the people Jesus would have us love. Does Christian love - expressed in mercy and justice - require us to understand its recipients? It does not, and demands to be extended especially toward those who remain alien to us.

Perhaps the only real division is between people we understand and people we don't. Can we rise to the challenge of loving people justly even when our lack of understanding makes us uncomfortable? The road to justice arcs beyond our ability to see, but it is where Christ waits to meet us.

Evening readings: Psalms 100; 63

Friday, January 30, 2015

Riding Out The Storm

Today's readings: Psalms 88; 148, Isaiah 50:1-11, Galatians 3:15-22, Mark 6:47-56

The Gospels contain a few different versions of stories about Jesus walking on water. In today's reading from Mark, he begins striding across the Sea of Galilee when he notices the disciples in their boat are struggling against the waves. The shortest sentence in this story may be the most revealing: "He intended to pass them by." (Mark 6:46b)

Jesus only climbed into their boat when they thought he was a ghost and grew afraid. Until that point, it seemed he expected they would be capable of fending  for themselves. Only a few minutes away from his presence, and they lost courage and - it seems - the ability to recognize him.

At some points in our lives, even the most faithful can feel like God has abandoned us. What if - like Jesus walking past the disciples in the boat - God has more faith in our ability to weather the storms than we do? Our strength derives from the knowledge (if not necessarily the feeling) God is always with us, but he does not literally need to be in the same boat. Could it be possible that when God is moving in a direction we don't expect, particularly one that is diverging from us, we might fail to recognize the movement as his?

Jesus was teaching his disciples more than how to follow him: he was teaching them to lead others. He left them (and us) the Holy Spirit, but he also left them with the reassurance he believed they were capable of feeding his sheep (John 21:15-17). It took a lot of stormy moments - culminating in the crucifixion - for the disciples to understand this lesson. If we are to be witnesses for the good news, we must not despair every time the boat rocks. During the worst storms, even if we are to drown, God walks the waters to lift us out.

Evening readings: Psalms 6; 20

Tuesday, January 27, 2015

A burden shared...

Today’s readings: Psalms 54; 146, Isaiah 48:12-21 (22), Galatians 1:18-2:10,  Mark 6:1-13

When Jesus felt the disciples were finally ready to travel and spread his teachings, he dispatched them in pairs. He told them to bring nothing extra: no food, no luggage, no extra clothes and no money. For shelter they were to rely on the hospitality of the communities they visited, and in its absence they were to rely on the open road. Though his commands sounded harsh, Mark reports the disciples had successful journeys.

It’s easy to develop a mindset that we just can’t survive without the basics. As technology evolves, the “basics” have become anything but: smart phones, tablets, fitness bands, bottled water, credit cards, etc, etc.  Today we can barely imagine going on a mission trip without a GPS and the Bible on an e-reader. Imagine what it would feel like to have Jesus unpacking your purse or backpack or luggage saying: “You won’t be needing this mp3 player. Or this phone. Or different shoes for hiking and digging. Or this pencil. Or…” until eventually you have nothing but a walking stick, the clothes on your back, and a single companion.

Photo Credit: John Schultz
Yet what a gift it is when two people are separated by no distractions and joined by a dedication to the Good News. On our own we can easily wander down the wrong path, but a companion keeps us accountable and on track. Our fear is less when someone has our back, and our strength is greater when we are responsible for and with another. Throughout the scriptures we can read examples of prophets and leaders who were at their best when they had a partner sharing the burden: Moses and Aaron, David and Jonathan, Ruth and Naomi, Elijah and Elisha.

Relationships are formed in the absence of distractions. Being fully present with another person while you both are working for the Kingdom of God is a uniquely bonding experience. That work can be anything from digging wells in Africa to praying together for someone in need. It can’t be done well if we are dealing with unnecessary items that distract us from the task at hand. Jesus teaches us again and again that we don’t need possessions. Even more he teaches us we need each other.

Evening readings: Psalms 28; 99

Monday, January 26, 2015

Worthy


Every one of us feels insecure about something. Perhaps it's our physical appearance. Our weight. Our ability. Our lovability. Our faith. Secrets we keep. Secrets we can't keep. Things we've done. Things we've left undone. Sadly, human beings have an infinite capacity for reasons to feel insecure. Left to fester, feelings of insecurity can quickly grow into feelings of unworthiness. Do we know anyone who feels unworthy to be loved by themselves, by others, or even by God? Where do we get these ideas we might be unworthy?

In today's gospel story, a woman who suffered with a hemorrhage for twelve years touched Jesus's robe and was healed by her faith. Under Levitical law, this woman was unclean, and therefore unworthy of touching a rabbi like Jesus. Societal norms might have kept her from being healed, but Jesus had no words of rebuke for her – only words of praise for her faith. As the incarnation of the divine, Jesus demonstrated unworthiness is a concept we use to hold each other back but it places no limitations on God's love for us. We must never let anyone tell us differently.

Other times feelings of unworthiness spring from actions we have taken and lives we have led. In his letter to the Galatians, Paul reminds them that before he evangelized for Christ, he was a murderer of Christians – surely a matter of no small regret. He also points out that once God chose him, he "did not confer with any human being" (Gal 1:16) but set directly about his calling. We learn at least two things from his experience. First, we are worthy because God tells us so, not because we or someone else decides it. Second, we don't have to wait for the approval of others to behave as though we are worthy: if that were the case, Paul would never have gotten started!

If God felt a notorious murderer of Christians was worthy of being their greatest evangelist, how much ego does it take to believe our small offenses make us unworthy of God's love? When we don't have faith in our own worthiness, let's remember our God has faith in us!

Evening readings: Psalms 85; 47

Saturday, January 24, 2015

These Boots Were Made For Preachin'

Today’s readings: Psalms 56; 149, Isaiah 46:1-13, Ephesians 6:10-24, Mark 5:1-20

In his letter to the Ephesians, Paul created one of the most popular extended metaphors in Christian literature: the armor of God. He writes about the belt of truth, the breastplate of righteousness, the shield of faith, the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the spirit. He mentions shoes, but is noticeably less specific about them: “put on whatever will make you ready to proclaim the gospel of peace” (Eph 6:15).

What do we put on to make us ready to proclaim the gospel of peace? As a society we design and purchase shoes specific to a countless number of functions. Sneakers are now court shoes, cross-trainers, running shoes, walking shoes, and on and on. We buy shoes specific to occupations, seasons, and recreational choices (we’re especially looking at you, bowlers!). Perhaps we really don’t need so many kinds of shoes, but each makes its corresponding activity easier, safer, and/or more comfortable. That may be a good model for proclaiming the gospel.

Not everyone is open to hearing the good news in the same way. Some prefer an intellectual approach. Others respond to a more emotional testimony. And others learn more from observing our actions than listening to our words. There are probably as many ways people hear the gospel proclaimed as there are … styles of shoes. Our natural tendency is to proclaim the gospel in a way that fits us comfortably: “If I am touched by emotional stories, you must be, too!” Sharing the gospel with someone in a way that does not speak to them can be awkward and even painful. Just as we might check the weather before deciding on flip-flops or snow boots, we should take time to get to know someone rather than forcing an inappropriate style of witness on them.

We can each become a collector of “proclamation” footwear – it’s free, takes up no  space in our closets, and the more we have the more we can spread the good news!

Evening readings: Psalms 118; 111

Thursday, January 22, 2015

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

Tuesday, January 20, 2015

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

Monday, January 19, 2015

Healthy Body /Healthy Spirit

Today's readings: Psalms 135; 145, Isaiah 44:6-8, 21-23, Ephesians 4:1-16, Mark 3:7-19

When an injury occurs, overcompensating with another body part can cause further harm. For example, limping for an extended period can strain the good leg and the back and require additional treatment. Another example of the interconnectedness of our parts is the phenomenon of referred pain, which occurs when injury to one body part causes pain in a different one, such as a spinal injury causing arm pain, making proper diagnosis and treatment difficult.

In the letter to the Ephesians, Paul compares the structure of the body of Christ to the human body. He emphasizes the importance of each part, and the need for unity in a healthy body. For the body to grow in love, all parts must function properly. Sometimes, though, we may not be able to easily determine which part we're meant to be. What then?

Our "diagnostic test" is this: do our actions (or inactions) contribute to the spiritual unity of the body? If we cause other parts to falter or carry our burdens, we need to reexamine our role. However, any physical therapist knows pain in the cause of healing is sometimes unavoidable. When it occurs in the body of Christ, we must ask ourselves whether the pain is a price to pay for unity. If it is, the body will be stronger for enduring it; if not we must cease. When the body is brought back into balance, pain for all members of the body is minimized and the use of our gifts is maximized.


Like physical health, spiritual health is not founded on quick fixes. It is a mature approach to healthy, balanced decisions benefitting the body, not just ones satisfying our localized  whims and short-term comfort. We all depend on each other, and must provide and accept support accordingly.

Evening readings: Psalms 97; 112

Sunday, January 18, 2015

My Own Worst Enemy

Today's readings: Psalms 19; 150, Isaiah 43:14-44:5, Hebrews 6:17-7:10, John 4:27-42

The Gospels contain two prominent stories about Samaritans. The more famous is the parable of the good Samaritan, but today's reading from John is about a Samaritan woman Jesus met at a well, and the results of her witness to her people. Religiously and ethnically the Samaritans were an offshoot of Judaism -- though they would tell you it was the other way around. One primary difference was that Jews considered Jerusalem the center of the faith, while Samaritans claimed it was Mount Gerizim. This and a few other differences made them enemies. As with many feuds, both tribal and personal, their common past seemed more to divide than unite them.

It would have been shocking to Jesus' contemporaries that he interacted with a Samaritan (let alone a woman). Her witness to her people would have been equally scandalous, yet it was so powerful they sought Jesus out and invited him to teach them. He spent two days with them, but we learn no details of this exchange other than they recognized him as the Messiah.

Inclusion of this passage may have been political, but it illustrates the inclusive nature of Christ's faith and politics. Throughout history, Christian denominations have split bitterly over ideas that most lay people never understand. Political parties are increasingly polarized, most of that division driven by extreme elements not representing the vast middle. Family members nurse grudges for years or even decades after an argument has no more relevance to their lives. Maintaining such rifts causes much more damage and fallout than the original source of tension ever could. Christ showed us we need to transcend these differences and heal these wounds face to face.

Evening readings: Psalms 81; 113