1 Corinthians 1:18-25, NRSV

For the message about the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God. For it is written,

“I will destroy the wisdom of the wise,
    and the discernment of the discerning I will thwart.”

Where is the one who is wise? Where is the scribe? Where is the debater of this age? Has not God made foolish the wisdom of the world? For since, in the wisdom of God, the world did not know God through wisdom, God decided, through the foolishness of our proclamation, to save those who believe. For Jews demand signs and Greeks desire wisdom, but we proclaim Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles, but to those who are the called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God. For God’s foolishness is wiser than human wisdom, and God’s weakness is stronger than human strength.

In our old(er) age,
the man continually surprises.
No fear of being the fool,
the clown,
the one who is child-like.

Wearing a costume 
designed for a 4-year-old,
creating a staff tall
enough for a grandfather,
he enters in,
wholeheartedly,
entertaining
those kids he loves
and their parents, too.

Why do we fear being
seen as foolish?
Why?
The fools win out,
every.single.time.

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Exodus 7:30-40, The Living Bible

On the morning of the third day there was a terrific thunder and lightning storm, and a huge cloud came down upon the mountain, and there was a long, loud blast as from a ram’s horn; and all the people trembled. Moses led them out from the camp to meet God, and they stood at the foot of the mountain. All Mount Sinai was covered with smoke because Jehovah descended upon it in the form of fire; the smoke billowed into the sky as from a furnace, and the whole mountain shook with a violent earthquake. As the trumpet blast grew louder and louder, Moses spoke and God thundered his reply. So the Lord came down upon the top of Mount Sinai and called Moses up to the top of the mountain, and Moses ascended to God.

But the Lord told Moses, “Go back down and warn the people not to cross the boundaries. They must not come up here to try to see God, for if they do, many of them will die. Even the priests on duty must sanctify themselves, or else I will destroy them.”

“But the people won’t come up into the mountain!” Moses protested. “You told them not to! You told me to set boundaries around the mountain and to declare it off limits because it is reserved for God.”

But Jehovah said, “Go down and bring Aaron back with you, and don’t let the priests and the people break across the boundaries to try to come up here, or I will punish them.”

So Moses went down to the people and told them what God had said.

This story both
appeals and repels.
The mystery,
the trumpet voice,
the meeting on the
mountain top —
all of that draws me in.

The words, however?
They discourage
and confuse me.
Only the two brothers
could come near,
only they could
handle the encounter.

Can I?
Can you? 

Thank God for Jesus,
the boundary-leaper,
the new mountain top,
the one who brings us up,
just as he brought God down.

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Acts 7:30-40, The Living Bible

“Forty years later, in the desert near Mount Sinai, an Angel appeared to him in a flame of fire in a bush. Moses saw it and wondered what it was, and as he ran to see, the voice of the Lord called out to him, ‘I am the God of your ancestors—of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob.’ Moses shook with terror and dared not look.

“And the Lord said to him, ‘Take off your shoes, for you are standing on holy ground. I have seen the anguish of my people in Egypt and have heard their cries. I have come down to deliver them. Come, I will send you to Egypt.’  And so God sent back the same man his people had previously rejected by demanding, ‘Who made you a ruler and judge over us?’ Moses was sent to be their ruler and savior. And by means of many remarkable miracles he led them out of Egypt and through the Red Sea, and back and forth through the wilderness for forty years.

“Moses himself told the people of Israel, ‘God will raise up a Prophet much like me from among your brothers.’ How true this proved to be, for in the wilderness, Moses was the go-between—the mediator between the people of Israel and the Angel who gave them the Law of God—the Living Word—on Mount Sinai.

“But our fathers rejected Moses and wanted to return to Egypt. They told Aaron, ‘Make idols for us, so that we will have gods to lead us back; for we don’t know what has become of this Moses, who brought us out of Egypt.’

We do this.
We all do this.
We reject the one
predicted by Moses,
the one who supplanted
Moses as
Liberator,
Leader,
Law-giver,
Interceder.

‘Make idols for me,’
I say to myself.
Dream them up,
dredge them up,
create them out of
the stuff of daily life.

That’s the ticket,
something tangible
and right here,
right now.

Will we ever learn?
Will we ever recognize
the Holy Ground
right next to us —
beneath our feet,
inside our spirits,
next to our hearts?

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Psalm 19, NRSV

The heavens are telling the glory of God;
    and the firmament proclaims his handiwork.

Day to day pours forth speech,
    and night to night declares knowledge.

There is no speech, nor are there words;
    their voice is not heard;
yet their voice goes out through all the earth,
    and their words to the end of the world.

In the heaven she has set a tent for the sun,
which comes out like a bridegroom from his wedding canopy,
    and like a strong man runs its course with joy.
Its rising is from the end of the heavens,
    and its circuit to the end of them;
    and nothing is hid from its heat.

The law of the Lord is perfect,
    reviving the soul;
the decrees of the Lord are sure,
    making wise the simple;
the precepts of the Lord are right,
    rejoicing the heart;
the commandment of the Lord is clear,
    enlightening the eyes;
the fear of the Lord is pure,
    enduring forever;
the ordinances of the Lord are true
    and righteous altogether.
More to be desired are they than gold,
    even much fine gold;
sweeter also than honey,
    and drippings of the honeycomb.

Moreover by them is your servant warned;
    in keeping them there is great reward.
But who can detect their errors?
    Clear me from hidden faults.
Keep back your servant also from the insolent;
    do not let them have dominion over me.
Then I shall be blameless,
    and innocent of great transgression.

Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart
    be acceptable to you,
    O Lord, my rock and my redeemer.

Gold.
Much, fine gold.
The beauties of this world,
catalogued in praise of . . .
the law.

Yet, more than the law, I think.
Perhaps the Word is closer.

The word.

Carries with it
the power to . . .
create,
inhabit,
transform,
cleanse,
heal,
destroy.

And we, too, have words.
And I join mine
with the psalmist,
asking that every word
that pours forth speech
from my mouth
would be worthy
of . . .
the Word.

Amen.

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John 12:36-43, The Living Bible

Make use of the Light while there is still time; then you will become light bearers.” After saying these things, Jesus went away and was hidden from them. But despite all the miracles he had done, most of the people would not believe he was the Messiah. This is exactly what Isaiah the prophet had predicted: “Lord, who will believe us? Who will accept God’s mighty miracles as proof?” But they couldn’t believe, for as Isaiah also said: “God has blinded their eyes and hardened their hearts so that they can neither see nor understand nor turn to me to heal them.” Isaiah was referring to Jesus when he made this prediction, for he had seen a vision of the Messiah’s glory. However, even many of the Jewish leaders believed him to be the Messiah but wouldn’t admit it to anyone because of their fear that the Pharisees would excommunicate them from the synagogue; for they loved the praise of men more than the praise of God.

Sunset is a favorite time,
watching the light lengthen
as long as possible,
and then disappear from view.

Seeing that sun set
reminds me 
to be a
light-bearer
my own self,
shining whatever
light I have 
right into the darkness.

And yet,
the very next line
tells us that Jesus
made himself
‘hidden.’

Even the Light
needs a break
now and then,
I guess.

(Have you noticed
how often the
word ‘glory’
appears in these readings?)

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Hebrews 11:1-3, 13-19, the Message

The fundamental fact of existence is that this trust in God, this faith, is the firm foundation under everything that makes life worth living. It’s our handle on what we can’t see. The act of faith is what distinguished our ancestors, set them above the crowd.

By faith, we see the world called into existence by God’s word, what we see created by what we don’t see.

Each one of these people of faith died not yet having in hand what was promised, but still believing. How did they do it? They saw it way off in the distance, waved their greeting, and accepted the fact that they were transients in this world. People who live this way make it plain that they are looking for their true home. If they were homesick for the old country, they could have gone back any time they wanted. But they were after a far better country than that—heaven country. You can see why God is so proud of them, and has a City waiting for them.

By faith, Abraham, at the time of testing, offered Isaac back to God. Acting in faith, he was as ready to return the promised son, his only son, as he had been to receive him—and this after he had already been told, “Your descendants shall come from Isaac.” Abraham figured that if God wanted to, he could raise the dead. In a sense, that’s what happened when he received Isaac back, alive from off the altar.

Shadows of Easter,
two weeks into Lent.

We can’t ever tell this story
without it, you know.
Like the fragrance of lilies,
it permeates all the
space inside.

And apparently,
God wanted to.

Raise the dead,
that is.

And here,
in the season 
where they’re banned,
I’m just gonna say it:

HALLELUJAH!!

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Psalm 105: 1-11, 37-45, The Message

Thank God! Pray to him by name!
    Tell everyone you meet what he has done!
Sing him songs, belt out hymns,
    translate his wonders into music!
Honor his holy name with Hallelujahs,
    you who seek God. Live a happy life!
Keep your eyes open for God, watch for his works;
    be alert for signs of his presence.
Remember the world of wonders he has made,
    his miracles, and the verdicts he’s rendered—
        O seed of Abraham, his servant,
        O child of Jacob, his chosen.

He’s God, our God,
    in charge of the whole earth.
And he remembers, remembers his Covenant—
    for a thousand generations he’s been as good as his word.
It’s the Covenant he made with Abraham,
    the same oath he swore to Isaac,
The very statute he established with Jacob,
    the eternal Covenant with Israel,
Namely, “I give you the land.
    Canaan is your hill-country inheritance.”
When they didn’t count for much,
    a mere handful, and strangers at that,
Wandering from country to country,
    drifting from pillar to post,
He permitted no one to abuse them.
    He told kings to keep their hands off:
“Don’t you dare lay a hand on my anointed,
    don’t hurt a hair on the heads of my prophets.”

Then Israel entered Egypt,
    Jacob immigrated to the Land of Ham.
God gave his people lots of babies;
    soon their numbers alarmed their foes.
He turned the Egyptians against his people;
    they abused and cheated God’s servants.
Then he sent his servant Moses,
    and Aaron, whom he also chose.
They worked marvels in that spiritual wasteland,
    miracles in the Land of Ham.
He spoke, “Darkness!” and it turned dark—
    they couldn’t see what they were doing.
He turned all their water to blood
    so that all their fish died;
He made frogs swarm through the land,
    even into the king’s bedroom;
He gave the word and flies swarmed,
    gnats filled the air.
He substituted hail for rain,
    he stabbed their land with lightning;
He wasted their vines and fig trees,
    smashed their groves of trees to splinters;
With a word he brought in locusts,
    millions of locusts, armies of locusts;
They consumed every blade of grass in the country
    and picked the ground clean of produce;
He struck down every firstborn in the land,
    the first fruits of their virile powers.
He led Israel out, their arms filled with loot,
    and not one among his tribes even stumbled.
Egypt was glad to have them go—
    they were scared to death of them.
God spread a cloud to keep them cool through the day
    and a fire to light their way through the night;
They prayed and he brought quail,
    filled them with the bread of heaven;
He opened the rock and water poured out;
    it flowed like a river through that desert—
All because he remembered his Covenant,
    his promise to Abraham, his servant.

Remember this! He led his people out singing for joy;
    his chosen people marched, singing their hearts out!
He made them a gift of the country they entered,
    helped them seize the wealth of the nations
So they could do everything he told them—
    could follow his instructions to the letter.

Hallelujah!

Belt it out!
Being possessed of
a big voice,
I love that line.

There aren’t many places
in life where
we’re given permission
to be loud.

But right here,
in the opening days
of what many think
a dark season,
we find these
fun, loud words.

Even in the desert,
we can find reason
to sing for all
we’re worth.

Try it!

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Mark 9:2-9, The Message

Six days later, three of them did see it. Jesus took Peter, James, and John and led them up a high mountain. His appearance changed from the inside out, right before their eyes. His clothes shimmered, glistening white, whiter than any bleach could make them. Elijah, along with Moses, came into view, in deep conversation with Jesus.

Peter interrupted, “Rabbi, this is a great moment! Let’s build three memorials—one for you, one for Moses, one for Elijah.” He blurted this out without thinking, stunned as they all were by what they were seeing.

Just then a light-radiant cloud enveloped them, and from deep in the cloud, a voice: “This is my Son, marked by my love. Listen to him.”

The next minute the disciples were looking around, rubbing their eyes, seeing nothing but Jesus, only Jesus.

Coming down the mountain, Jesus swore them to secrecy. “Don’t tell a soul what you saw. After the Son of Man rises from the dead, you’re free to talk.” They puzzled over that, wondering what on earth “rising from the dead” meant.

Wouldn’t you love
to have been there?

Of all the biblical stories,
this is the one I’d 
like to enter.

And sometimes,
when the sky looks like
this one,
I think I come close.

Do you?

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Genesis 16:7-15, The Living Bible

The Angel of the Lord found her beside a desert spring along the road to Shur.

The Angel: “Hagar, Sarai’s maid, where have you come from, and where are you going?”

Hagar: “I am running away from my mistress.”

The Angel: “Return to your mistress and act as you should, for I will make you into a great nation. Yes, you are pregnant and your baby will be a son, and you are to name him Ishmael (‘God hears’), because God has heard your woes. This son of yours will be a wild one—free and untamed as a wild ass! He will be against everyone, and everyone will feel the same toward him. But he will live near the rest of his kin.”

Thereafter Hagar spoke of Jehovah—for it was he who appeared to her—as “the God who looked upon me,” for she thought, “I saw God and lived to tell it.”

Later that well was named “The Well of the Living One Who Sees Me.” It lies between Kadesh and Bered.

So Hagar gave Abram a son, and Abram named him Ishmael.

‘Beside a desert spring.’
In more ways than one,
I’ll wager.

It is never an easy job
to be anyone’s servant.
Never.

But back then?
I cannot even imagine.

But this feisty girl knew her limits,
and she got outta there.
Fast.
She was alone, however.
In the desert.
Pregnant.

And then something
strange and wonderful 
happens:

She is seen.
She is heard.

Is there any gift on earth
better than that one?

Even when the word is
‘return,’
even when that is the
very last thing 
she wants.

Still.

The gift was being seen.

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