A Lenten Journey: Climbing to the Cross – Day NINETEEN

March 14, 2012 By
Lilly, in her ‘rainbow fwetter,’ giving her friend Alice a big hug and kiss at her 2nd birthday party last month.

Genesis 45:1-15, Today’s New International Version

(Yesterday’s devotional reading list had TWO texts I wanted to wrestle with and reflect on, so I’m ‘cheating’ today by using the 2nd of those texts in this post. Back on schedule tomorrow – I promise!)
 
   Then Joseph could no longer control himself before all his attendants, and he cried out, “Have everyone leave my presence!” So there was no one with Joseph when he made himself known to his brothers. And he wept so loudly that the Egyptians heard him, and Pharaoh’s household heard about it. 
     Joseph said to his brothers, “I am Joseph! Is my father still living?” But his brothers were not able to answer him, because they were terrified at his presence.
 
     Then Joseph said to his brothers, “Come close to me.” When they had done so, he said, “I am your brother Joseph, the one you sold into Egypt! And now, do not be distressed and do not be angry with yourselves for selling me here, because it was to save lives that God sent me ahead of you. For two years now there has been famine in the land, and for the next five years there will be no plowing and reaping. But God sent me ahead of you to preserve for you a remnant on earth and to save your lives by a great deliverance.
 
     “So then, it was not you who sent me here, but God. He made me father to Pharaoh, lord of his entire household and ruler of all Egypt. Now hurry back to my father and say to him, ‘This is what your son Joseph says: God has made me lord of all Egypt. Come down to me; don’t delay. You shall live in the region of Goshen and be near me—you, your children and grandchildren, your flocks and herds, and all you have. I will provide for you there, because five years of famine are still to come. Otherwise you and your household and all who belong to you will become destitute.’
 
“You can see for yourselves, and so can my brother Benjamin, that it is really I who am speaking to you. Tell my father about all the honor accorded me in Egypt and about everything you have seen. And bring my father down here quickly.”
 
Then he threw his arms around his brother Benjamin and wept, and Benjamin embraced him, weeping. And he kissed all his brothers and wept over them. Afterward his brothers talked with him.

_______


Don’t you just love reunions? 

Well, here is one of the best ever.

Joseph, 
     the over-confident, 
          slightly obnoxious, 
               Daddy’s boy –
     big-time dreamer, 
          unwise teller of truth –
THAT Joseph, 
     sold by his brothers, like an unwanted plaything –
     many years of long stories later,  
that Joseph reveals himself to his brothers. 

Those brothers –
     the very ones who had betrayed him as a teenager;
     the very ones who lied to their father, telling him Joseph was dead.
     the very ones who have come, hats in hand, to beg for mercy
          one.more.time –
these are the ones Joseph weeps over.

Yes, he has tested those brothers, wanting to be sure they have outgrown their violent past. 

And they have passed every test. 

So now – it all comes gushing out:
     “It’s me, guys!”
     “It’s all fine, guys.”
     “I know you meant it for harm – but God…” 

“But GOD…” 

Possibly the two most beautiful words in the English language. 

Words that Joseph repeats and repeats, 
     assuring his terror-stricken brothers that all is well. 
     Things are as they should be, 
          as God meant them to be – 
               even as God had told him they would be, 
                    those many eons ago, back in his dreaming days. 

Ah, yes. Those dreams.

Never underestimate the power of a dream. Never. 

For in many ways, it is dreams that power this entire story:
     Joseph’s dreams as a young boy, full of himself, babbling and bragging…
     Prisoners’ dreams which bring Joseph to the attention of powerful people…
     Pharoah’s dreams which bring the gift of an entirely new life to Joseph – 
     the sold one, 
          the falsely accused one, 
               the imprisoned one, 
                    the forgotten one –
                          now…the exalted one.

But most of all, this story is about GOD’S dream. 
God’s dream of a people uniquely his own;
     God’s dream to preserve them when famine strikes;
           God’s dream for the salvation, healing and reconciliation of the entire human race through the choosing and the saving of that people…
                a dream which is planted as a seed here in Genesis,
                and then blooms into the beautiful Rose of Sharon, Jesus of Nazareth, whom we meet in the pages of the gospels. 

Talk about a God-sized dream. Wow.

_______


O Dreaming God, thank you for planting your dream for our reunion with you deep in the heart of each one of us. And thank you for the story of Joseph – all of the story of Joseph – the hard parts, the scary parts, the exciting parts, the deeply satisfying parts. Help us to nourish our dreams, to test them and treasure them. And by your Spirit at work within us, empower us to live them. Amen.

Click here for day one of this series and an explanation of what it’s all about. 

 




Filed Under: biblical reflection, Lenten Journey, Wonderings in the Word

A Lenten Journey: Climbing to the Cross – Day EIGHTEEN

March 13, 2012 By
Mark 6:1-13, The Message
He left there and returned to his hometown. His disciples came along. On the Sabbath, he gave a lecture in the meeting place. He made a real hit, impressing everyone. “We had no idea he was this good!” they said. “How did he get so wise all of a sudden, get such ability?”
But in the next breath they were cutting him down: “He’s just a carpenter—Mary’s boy. We’ve known him since he was a kid. We know his brothers, James, Justus, Jude, and Simon, and his sisters. Who does he think he is?” They tripped over what little they knew about him and fell, sprawling. And they never got any further.
 
Jesus told them, “A prophet has little honor in his hometown, among his relatives, on the streets he played in as a child.” Jesus wasn’t able to do much of anything there—he laid hands on a few sick people and healed them, that’s all. He couldn’t get over their stubbornness. He left and made a circuit of the other villages, teaching.

 

Jesus called the Twelve to him, and sent them out in pairs. He gave them authority and power to deal with the evil opposition. He sent them off with these instructions:
“Don’t think you need a lot of extra equipment for this. You are the equipment. No special appeals for funds. Keep it simple.
“And no luxury inns. Get a modest place and be content there until you leave.
 
“If you’re not welcomed, not listened to, quietly withdraw. Don’t make a scene. Shrug your shoulders and be on your way.” 

Then they were on the road. They preached with joyful urgency that life can be radically different; right and left they sent the demons packing; they brought wellness to the sick, anointing their bodies, healing their spirits. 
_______ 

Such an interesting juxtaposition of Jesus-stories Mark has chosen to put here in the opening verses of chapter six. 

Take another look at this phrase from the last paragraph – 

“They preached with joyful urgency that life can be radically different; right and left they sent the demons packing…” 

Lay that line out against another one, taken from the early part of this passage: 

“Jesus wasn’t able to do much of anything there; he laid hands on a few sick people there and healed them – that’s all.”

What’s the difference between these two? 

Why such dynamism in one story and the lack of it in the other?

Jesus brought his traveling band back to his hometown. And initially, he preached with power. 

“Yeah, man!” say some of the neighbors. “That guy can PREACH! Who knew?”

But then those townsfolk think about it a little – often a bad sign. Because when we have second thoughts, we usually share them with others, right? And we can really do a number on people when we whisper about them in the corners of life.

“Hmmm…we knew that kid. Didn’t he live down the street and run around the village with our children? He acts like he’s got the answers to all the world’s problems!  Who does he think he is?”

ZING.

And Jesus sees this for exactly what it is: prideful stubbornness. An inability to believe their own eyes and ears, an unwillingness to acknowledge that this nondescript carpenter could possibly have grown into a full-fledged prophet/teacher/miracle-worker.

And here’s the power-point-great-big-starred-item for me in this text: 
     their own refusal to see 
          led to…
     the shut-down of Jesus’ ability to work his healing power in their midst. 

Talk about scary. 

God has given us an incredible amount of power, hasn’t he? 

Our refusal to see and to believe, our willful choice to say ‘no,’ seems to limit what God can do for us. 

But you see what happens next? 

Jesus blows right on by that town – he leaves and heads out to places where his ministry is welcomed. 

And then… 

Then he turns to his closest associates – the 12 disciples – and he pairs them up and he looks ’em in the eye and tells them they now have HIS authority and power to preach/teach/ heal/exorcise. 

And he sends them out to do exactly that. 

AND THEY DO IT!! 

Who knew?

_______

Jesus, your story just gets curiouser and curiouser. Our attitudes, our choices can somehow limit what you will do for us? Well, that’s just plain mind-blowing. And if that weren’t enough – you follow that little tidbit up with this one: those guys – those 12 who were so much like we are, all squirrely and confused and inappropriate – you authorize them to do the wild kinda stuff you do?

Gulp. Does that mean we have that authority, too? 

Lord, have mercy.

Click here for day one of this series and an explanation of what it’s all about. 

 

Filed Under: biblical reflection, Lenten Journey, Wonderings in the Word

A Lenten Journey: Climbing to the Cross – Day SEVENTEEN

March 12, 2012 By

Psalm 77, The Message

I yell out to my God, I yell with all my might, I yell at the top of my lungs. He listens.
 
I found myself in trouble and went looking for my Lord;
      my life was an open wound that wouldn’t heal.
   When friends said, “Everything will turn out all right,”
      I didn’t believe a word they said.
   I remember God—and shake my head.
      I bow my head—then wring my hands.
   I’m awake all night—not a wink of sleep;
      I can’t even say what’s bothering me.
   I go over the days one by one,
      I ponder the years gone by.
   I strum my lute all through the night,
      wondering how to get my life together.
 
Will the Lord walk off and leave us for good?
      Will he never smile again?
   Is his love worn threadbare?
      Has his salvation promise burned out?
   Has God forgotten his manners?
      Has he angrily stalked off and left us?
   “Just my luck,” I said. “The High God goes out of business
      just the moment I need him.”
 
Once again I’ll go over what God has done,
      lay out on the table the ancient wonders;
   I’ll ponder all the things you’ve accomplished,
      and give a long, loving look at your acts.
 
O God! Your way is holy!
      No god is great like God!
   You’re the God who makes things happen;
      you showed everyone what you can do—
   You pulled your people out of the worst kind of trouble,
      rescued the children of Jacob and Joseph.
 
Ocean saw you in action, God,
      saw you and trembled with fear;
      Deep Ocean was scared to death.
   Clouds belched buckets of rain,
      Sky exploded with thunder,
      your arrows flashing this way and that.
   From Whirlwind came your thundering voice,
      Lightning exposed the world,
      Earth reeled and rocked.
   You strode right through Ocean,
      walked straight through roaring Ocean,
      but nobody saw you come or go.
 
Hidden in the hands of Moses and Aaron,
   You led your people like a flock of sheep.
_______


Oh. My. Goodness. 

I LOVE what Peterson has done with this wonderful cry of angst, this journeyman’s rage against the Machine. 

The psalmist is caught. 

     Feels trapped. 

     Abandoned. 

     ANGRY!! 

And where does he vent all that emotion? 

“Just my luck, the High God goes out of business just the moment I need him.” 

He lets GOD have it. 

And can I tell you how much I love, love, LOVE this?? 

There is nowhere better to go with all that we are feeling than directly into the presence of God. 

Sometimes I think those of us who grew up in the church may be at a distinct disadvantage with this truth. Many well-meaning Sunday school teachers – and even some parents here and there – raised us to believe that ‘nice’ boys and girls don’t get angry. And most certainly, they don’t get angry at God! 

Yet, as I read the psalms,
     as I look at some of the vignettes in the life of Jesus,
I scratch my head at this sad truth. 

Clearly, anger 
     – in and of itself – 
is neither unknown nor unwelcome, 
          in our scripture, 
               or to our God. 

It’s what we DO with the anger that adds moral weight, isn’t it? 

And what the psalmist does here is just…well, wonderful. 

He vents it in God’s direction – honestly, fully.
And then…
     he remembers where he and God have been together,
     he remembers where his people and God have been together,
     he remembers that God is God –
and he…is not. 

And that last line?

“Hidden in the hands of Moses and Aaron, You guided your people like a flock of sheep.” 

This mighty God, the one the psalmist has been remembering,

     this striding God, 
          voice like a whirlwind, 
              a figure so terrifying that the ocean itself trembles in fear – 
this God ‘hides’ in the hands of people like Moses and Aaron, like you and like me in order to work God’s way in the world he has made. 

Remarkable. Just remarkable. 

_______ 

O Lord, help me to remember that ALL of what I am feeling is seen and welcomed. Remind me that you cannot be overwhelmed or disgusted by my struggles, that you invite me to be more real with you than with anyone else. Help me to exhaust all of it right here — and then — help me to turn my energies to remembering and re-telling your story with me, my story with you. Thank you for giving me the gift of an emotional life – help me to steward it well.


 



Filed Under: biblical reflection, Lenten Journey, Wonderings in the Word

A Lenten Journey: Climbing to Calvary – THIRD Sunday

March 11, 2012 By
 A completely over-the-top personal chapel in what is now a large monastery at Melk, Austria. The artwork is glorious, yet somehow the very grandeur of the place seems off-putting and out of synch with 
the simple power of the gospel message.

John 2:13-22, Today’s New International Version

When it was almost time for the Jewish Passover, Jesus went up to Jerusalem. In the temple courts he found people selling cattle, sheep and doves, and others sitting at tables exchanging money. So he made a whip out of cords, and drove all from the temple courts, both sheep and cattle; he scattered the coins of the money changers and overturned their tables. To those who sold doves he said, “Get these out of here! Stop turning my Father’s house into a market!” His disciples remembered that it is written: “Zeal for your house will consume me.”
The Jews then responded to him, “What sign can you show us to prove your authority to do all this?”
 
Jesus answered them, “Destroy this temple, and I will raise it again in three days.”
 
They replied, “It has taken forty-six years to build this temple, and you are going to raise it in three days?” But the temple he had spoken of was his body. After he was raised from the dead, his disciples recalled what he had said. Then they believed the scripture and the words that Jesus had spoken.

_______

Did you catch the location of this passage? Gospel of John – chapter TWO.

Every other gospel has this episode located at the beginning of Holy Week, very late in the life and ministry of Jesus.
But John – ever the contrarian – puts this narrative at the beginning of Jesus’ ministry life, as a ‘kick-off’ event of sorts.

And what better way to start your life as a rabbi than to thoroughly tick off all the influential religious people in the Holy City? You know the ones I mean – the guys with the clout – the ones who could make or break you as a spiritual leader?

Well, tick them off he does. He clears the place of all the fuss and mess of folks offering their thoroughly inappropriate best-buys-in-sacrifical-animals. And he makes no bones about it, either: Stop this. Get this stuff outta here.

The mightily offended scribes and Pharisees pull their prayer shawls ever so closely and ask – what right, what authority have you to do this dastardly deed?

And basically, Jesus answers with a riddle. A riddle they do not understand – and I’m pretty certain Jesus knew they would not understand, they could not understand. Even those who were closest to him didn’t understand until much, much later.

John’s portrait of Jesus is dripping with theological insight, with glimpses of the confidence, acceptance and resolution with which Jesus embraced his life and his death. And right here, the hope of the resurrection begins lacing its way in and around the narrative – right from the very beginning of the book. 

Yes! Even as we wander our way through these 40 days and 6 Sundays of wilderness travel, let us never lose sight of that gaping hole in the earth! 

Because…
     It is the resurrection that makes our faith vibrate. 
     It is the resurrection that promises us a forever future. 
     It is the resurrection that anchors us all – 
          suspicious-religious-types, 
          feckless-disciple-types, 
          21st-century-struggler types. 
     It is the resurrection that anchors us all in 
          hope fulfilled, 
               promises kept, 
                    healing and wholeness and salvation delivered. 

_______ 

Resurrected Christ, Great Heart and Hope of our universe, even as we wrestle with our own weakness, doubt, lack of understanding, dogmatism, addiction to forms and shadows rather than the simple Truth – point us to the empty tomb as well as the cross, remind us that you are LORD as well as friend, that you hate hypocrisy as well as love little children. Help us to see all of who you are – or at least as much ‘all’ as you think we can handle. Amen.



Filed Under: biblical reflection, Lenten Journey, Wonderings in the Word

A Lenten Journey: Climbing to Calvary – Day SIXTEEN

March 10, 2012 By
Mark 5:1-10, Today’s New International Version

They went across the lake to the region of the Gerasenes. When Jesus got out of the boat, a man with an evil spirit came from the tombs to meet him. This man lived in the tombs, and no one could bind him anymore, not even with a chain. For he had often been chained hand and foot, but he tore the chains apart and broke the irons on his feet. No one was strong enough to subdue him. Night and day among the tombs and in the hills he would cry out and cut himself with stones.
When he saw Jesus from a distance, he ran and fell on his knees in front of him. He shouted at the top of his voice, “What do you want with me, Jesus, Son of the Most High God? In God’s name don’t torture me!” For Jesus had said to him, “Come out of this man, you evil spirit!”
Then Jesus asked him, “What is your name?”
 
“My name is Legion,” he replied, “for we are many.” And he begged Jesus again and again not to send them out of the area.
 
A large herd of pigs was feeding on the nearby hillside. The demons begged Jesus, “Send us among the pigs; allow us to go into them.” He gave them permission, and the evil spirits came out and went into the pigs. The herd, about two thousand in number, rushed down the steep bank into the lake and were drowned.
 
Those tending the pigs ran off and reported this in the town and countryside, and the people went out to see what had happened. When they came to Jesus, they saw the man who had been possessed by the legion of demons, sitting there, dressed and in his right mind; and they were afraid. Those who had seen it told the people what had happened to the demon-possessed man—and told about the pigs as well. Then the people began to plead with Jesus to leave their region.
 
As Jesus was getting into the boat, the man who had been demon-possessed begged to go with him. Jesus did not let him, but said, “Go home to your own people and tell them how much the Lord has done for you, and how he has had mercy on you.” So the man went away and began to tell in the Decapolis how much Jesus had done for him. And all the people were amazed.
_______
Lent is a good time for confronting demons.
And here’s the thing about demons – they’re tenacious, they’re manipulative, and they’re scary as hell. Literally.
We might tend to read this story through our 21st century, western cultural eyes. We might want to think that the days of literal demons are behind us.
Maybe.
But I think the powers of evil have found lots and lots of new ones with which to entangle us, to ensnare us, to hiss and snarl and sweet-talk us away from the Truth. 

I have a few that I do battle with, sometimes until I feel exhausted and exposed, just like this wild man on the edges of town. How about you?

Do you think maybe you’re ready? Ready to do a little confrontational work?


Perhaps the language of the psychologists might be helpful as we confront the things that demonize us in this time and place:

Addiction.

Anger.

Anxiety. 

Attachment.

Compulsion. 

Control issues. 

Egocentric ego. 

Fear/phobia.

Family of origin issues.

Narcissism. 

Insecurity. 

Perfectionism. 

           “I have met the enemy and s/he lives inside my head.”  

So said the very wise father of a friend of mine, and I think he nailed it.

Because everybody does battle with several of the personal demons on this list – and all of them hit us hardest where we spend about 99% of our time – inside our own heads. 
But then, just like the Gerasene demoniac, these demons inside our heads break through, frightening us and the people we live with, too often leaving us isolated, ‘crying out and cutting ourselves with stones.’

So, I ask you today:
     If Jesus were to stand in front of the naked, quivering you and say, “What is your name?”  
     Who do you think would answer?

Do you believe that Jesus has 
     the authority, 
     the will and 
     the power to release you from the grip 
        of whatever it is that holds you? 

Do you trust him…
     to do what is best for you, 
     to clear out the things that hold you captive,
          using whatever means will be most effective – from
               scripture to 
               prayer to 
               psychological or pastoral counseling to
               healthy eating to
               regular exercise to 
               the good words of friends to 
               a 12-step program?

Do you believe that Jesus is able to

               help you to find new clothes, 
                     seat you at his feet as a true disciple,
                          invite you to be a witness to his goodness?

Lent invites us to do exactly that: 
     to trust this time in the wilderness with Jesus, 
          or more accurately –
     to trust this Jesus in the wilderness  
          with all of who we are and 
          to invite him to make some deep changes in us.
_______
I’ll admit, Lord, that I find this picture of you both captivating and terrifying. I so want to trust you, to hear you tell the things that hold me, “Get the heck outta here!” But these demons are so familiar to me, and I am so dang scared of change. Help me to trust in your goodness, to recognize your authority over the things that isolate me, to open myself to the life-changing work you want to do in me and through me. For your sake, Lord. And for mine, too.
 



Filed Under: biblical reflection, Lenten Journey, Wonderings in the Word

A Lenten Journey: Climbing to the Cross – Day FIFTEEN

March 9, 2012 By

Genesis 43:1-15, The New Living Translation
But the famine continued to ravage the land of Canaan. When the grain they had brought from Egypt was almost gone, Jacob said to his sons, “Go back and buy us a little more food.”
    
But Judah said, “The man was serious when he warned us, ‘You won’t see my face again unless your brother is with you.’ If you send Benjamin with us, we will go down and buy more food. But if you don’t let Benjamin go, we won’t go either. Remember, the man said, ‘You won’t see my face again unless your brother is with you.’”
 
“Why were you so cruel to me?” Jacob moaned. “Why did you tell him you had another brother?”
 
“The man kept asking us questions about our family,” they replied. “He asked, ‘Is your father still alive? Do you have another brother?’ So we answered his questions. How could we know he would say, ‘Bring your brother down here’?”
 
Judah said to his father, “Send the boy with me, and we will be on our way. Otherwise we will all die of starvation—and not only we, but you and our little ones. I personally guarantee his safety. You may hold me responsible if I don’t bring him back to you. Then let me bear the blame forever. If we hadn’t wasted all this time, we could have gone and returned twice by now.”
 
So their father, Jacob, finally said to them, “If it can’t be avoided, then at least do this. Pack your bags with the best products of this land. Take them down to the man as gifts—balm, honey, gum, aromatic resin, pistachio nuts, and almonds. Also take double the money that was put back in your sacks, as it was probably someone’s mistake.  Then take your brother, and go back to the man. May God Almighty give you mercy as you go before the man, so that he will release Simeon and let Benjamin return. But if I must lose my children, so be it.”
 
So the men packed Jacob’s gifts and double the money and headed off with Benjamin. They finally arrived in Egypt and presented themselves to Joseph.
_______

I love this conversation.

It gives me glimpses of hope that all is not lost when I dream of somehow, someday, overcoming my own personal flaws and peccadilloes.

These two men are a mixed up mess of human emotions – greed, jealousy, rage, self-pity, entitlement – all tossed together with loyalty, commitment, love, concern.

Jacob is still the frightened, non-favored twin, convinced that the world is against him.

Judah is still the manipulator extraordinaire, bargaining with the lives of his brothers.

But…

Jacob is ALSO the father who sees reason, who relaxes into the future, basically leaving to the sovereignty of God the life or death of his sons (with just a little generosity to help grease the wheels).

And Judah is ALSO the one willing to be the scapegoat, assuming full responsibility for this very scary trip to Egypt, offering himself as the one to bear both the shame and the blame.

What brings me hope in this vignette is that each of these rascals is a picture of transformation at work. They are not always messes. In fact, they are in the process of becoming less messy as this story unfolds.

Each of them still carries their early wounds and attachments – but…they are also each becoming someone different, someone more.

We’ll look in on this story a few more times during our Lenten journey together and we’ll find other pictures of this wonderful double truth: we are who we are – for good and for ill — and we are also who we are becoming, by God’s grace at work within us.

Hang onto that!

And see if this quote helps you do that:
     “This is the way that God seduces us all into the economy of grace—by loving us in spite of ourselves in the very places where we cannot, or will not, or dare not love ourselves. God shocks and stuns us into love. God does not love us if we change; God loves us so that we can change.”
                                                               – Richard Rohr

_______

Sovereign God, you are the only one who can change us from the inside out. So, as this climb to the cross continues, give us eyes to see you at work within us, even as we see the changes in Jacob and Judah. Thank you that you never give up – even when we sometimes do! Guide us into becoming ever more completely that person you see in us, the one who bears a strong family resemblance to Jesus himself. Amen.

Click here for day one of this series and an explanation of what it’s all about.

Filed Under: biblical reflection, Lenten Journey, Wonderings in the Word

A Lenten Journey: Climbing to the Cross – Day FOURTEEN

March 8, 2012 By

Mark 4:21-34, New Living Translation    

Then Jesus asked them, “Would anyone light a lamp and then put it under a basket or under a bed? Of course not! A lamp is placed on a stand, where its light will shine. For everything that is hidden will eventually be brought into the open, and every secret will be brought to light. Anyone with ears to hear should listen and understand.”
   

Then he added, “Pay close attention to what you hear. The closer you listen, the more understanding you will be given—and you will receive even more. To those who listen to my teaching, more understanding will be given. But for those who are not listening, even what little understanding they have will be taken away from them.”

     Jesus also said, “The Kingdom of God is like a farmer who scatters seed on the ground. Night and day, while he’s asleep or awake, the seed sprouts and grows, but he does not understand how it happens. The earth produces the crops on its own. First a leaf blade pushes through, then the heads of wheat are formed, and finally the grain ripens. And as soon as the grain is ready, the farmer comes and harvests it with a sickle, for the harvest time has come.”

    Jesus said, “How can I describe the Kingdom of God? What story should I use to illustrate it? It is like a mustard seed planted in the ground. It is the smallest of all seeds, but it becomes the largest of all garden plants; it grows long branches, and birds can make nests in its shade.”
     

     Jesus used many similar stories and illustrations to teach the people as much as they could understand. In fact, in his public ministry he never taught without using parables; but afterward, when he was alone with his disciples, he explained everything to them.
_______
“Lent is a call to renew a commitment grown dull, perhaps,
 by a life more marked by routine than by reflection. 
After a lifetime of mundane regularity 
or unconsidered adherence to the trappings of faith, 
Lent requires me, as a Christian, to stop for awhile, 
to reflect again on what is going on in me. 
I am challenged again to decide whether I, myself, 
do truly believe that Jesus is the Christ – 
and if I believe, 
whether I will live accordingly 
when I can no longer hear the song of angels in my life 
and the star of Bethlehem has grown dim for me. 
Lent is not a ritual. 
It is a time given to think seriously 
about who Jesus is for us, 
to renew our faith from the inside out.”    
 – Joan Chittister
Three short stories.
Three photographs.
Wise words from Sister Joan.
That’s enough for today.
_______
These words are more than enough, Lord – these poem-words from Jesus, the ones that create pictures in our minds, helping us to see things invisible. Thank you for light, for farmers and seeds, for brightly colored weeds in the field – and thank you for using such simple things to teach us about who you are and who we are called to be. And help us to choose – again and again and again – to believe that you are indeed the Christ, come to bring us life. Amen. 

Click here for day one of this series and an explanation of what it’s all about.

Filed Under: biblical reflection, Lenten Journey, Wonderings in the Word

A Lenten Journey: Climbing to the Cross – Day THIRTEEN

March 7, 2012 By

Psalm 119:73-96, The Grail Translation

Yod
 
It was your hands that made me and shaped me;
help me to learn your commands.
Your faithful will see me and rejoice
for I trust in your word.
LORD, I know that your decrees are right,
that you afflicted me justly.
Let your love be ready to console me
by your promise to your servant.
Let your love come and I shall live
for your law is my delight.
Shame the proud who harm me with lies
while I ponder your precepts.
Let your faithful turn to me,
those who know your will.
Let my heart be blameless in your statutes
lest I be ashamed.

Caph

I yearn for your saving help;
I hope in your word.
My eyes yearn to see your promise.
When will you console me?
Though parched and exhausted with waiting
I remember your statutes.
How long must your servant suffer?
When will you judge my foes?
For me the proud have dug pitfalls,
against your law.
Your commands are all true; then help me
when lies oppress me.
They almost made an end of me on earth,
but I kept your precepts.
Because of your love give me life
and I will do your will. 

Lamed

Your word, O LORD, for ever
stands firm in the heavens:
your truth lasts from age to age,
like the earth you created.
By your decree it endures to this day;
for all things serve you.
Had your law not been my delight
I would have died in my affliction.
I will never forget your precepts
for with them you give me life.
Save me, for I am yours
since I seek your precepts.
Though the wicked lie in wait to destroy me
yet I ponder your will.
I have seen that all perfection has an end
but your command is boundless. 
_______ 

A song of praise for the beauty and comfort of God’s law, Psalm 119 has one verse for each of the 22 letters of the Hebrew alphabet. 

Today’s lectionary reading carves out three from the middle. 

The yearning of these words is almost palpable.
The psalmist yearns 
     for God, 
          for the orderly beauty of the law, 
               for deliverance from enemies, 
                    for judgment against those who have hounded him. 

Oh, how I love the way all of that is jumbled together in this song. 

All the love and angst and pain and anger and desire for vengeance. 

I love it because it sounds like…
     me. 
          And probably you, too. 

We’re always a mangled up mish-mash of emotions and experiences, 
     sometimes one thing floating to the fore, sometimes another. 

And these three stanzas have bits of a whole lot of that. 

Sometimes the singer seems to have an almost magical view of God’s justice – a tit-for-tat kind of thinking. 

     Sometimes I slide into that pattern myself. 
          Do you? 

Sometimes the song literally cries out for relief, wondering when comfort will come, when the struggle will end. 

     And I often find myself crying out for the very same things. 
          Do you? 

But over and around and in between the anguish and the anger, this singer has a recurring lyrical theme:
     the goodness of God;
          the beauty of God’s law;
                a deep desire to live out the law day by day, 
                    whether the day bring victory or defeat,
                         consolation or desolation.

     How I want to sing that song! 
     Do you? 

_______ 

Teach me to sing with the psalmist, O LORD. To pour out my heart honestly – lousy theology and all. To seek your face, your justice, your word. To weave through all my cries a song of joyful praise for who you are and how you have shown yourself to us through the Word – the Word written, and the Word living, even Jesus Christ. Amen.

 Click here for day one of this series and an explanation of what it’s all about.
 
 
          

 

Filed Under: biblical reflection, Lenten Journey, Wonderings in the Word

A Lenten Journey: Climbing to the Cross – Day TWELVE

March 6, 2012 By

Mark 3:19b-35, The Message:

Jesus came home and, as usual, a crowd gathered—so many making demands on him that there wasn’t even time to eat. His friends heard what was going on and went to rescue him, by force if necessary. They suspected he was getting carried away with himself.
The religion scholars from Jerusalem came down spreading rumors that he was working black magic, using devil tricks to impress them with spiritual power. Jesus confronted their slander with a story: “Does it make sense to send a devil to catch a devil, to use Satan to get rid of Satan? A constantly squabbling family disintegrates. If Satan were fighting Satan, there soon wouldn’t be any Satan left. Do you think it’s possible in broad daylight to enter the house of an awake, able-bodied man, and walk off with his possessions unless you tie him up first? Tie him up, though, and you can clean him out. 
“Listen to this carefully. I’m warning you. There’s nothing done or said that can’t be forgiven. But if you persist in your slanders against God’s Holy Spirit, you are repudiating the very One who forgives, sawing off the branch on which you’re sitting, severing by your own perversity all connection with the One who forgives.” He gave this warning because they were accusing him of being in league with Evil. 
Just then his mother and brothers showed up. Standing outside, they relayed a message that they wanted a word with him. He was surrounded by the crowd when he was given the message, “Your mother and brothers and sisters are outside looking for you.” 
Jesus responded, “Who do you think are my mother and brothers?” Looking around, taking in everyone seated around him, he said, “Right here, right in front of you—my mother and my brothers. Obedience is thicker than blood. The person who obeys God’s will is my brother and sister and mother.” 
_______
He’s getting under their skin.
The crowds are bigger each day,
     the authority with which he speaks and acts is notable,
          his obvious spiritual power has everyone’s knickers in a twist.
His friends are sure he’s either crazy or full of himself.
His enemies accuse him of partnering with the Dark Side.
His mother and brothers are demanding equal time.
He’s definitely astounding, mystifying, frustrating – perhaps even frightening – the very ones he should be closest to: his cronies, the religious hierarchy, his family.
And he cares not.one.whit.
Not one.
And that is perhaps the most astounding thing of all: 
     here is a man who is so confident and so centered 
     that he moves ahead with his own agenda, 
          despite the opinions, concerns and criticism of others.
I’m not sure I’ve ever in my life had a thought, performed a deed, said a word that I didn’t at some point think: “What will they think of me?” For me, it’s almost instinctual to care about the opinions of others.
Not so for Jesus.
Not so at all.
He sidesteps the request of his friends to rein it in.
He punctures the rhetorical bubble of the religious leaders.
He chooses to declare his own family-in-the-making rather 
     than relinquish himself or his ministry in order to soothe
     the troubled (embarrassed?) hearts and minds of those
     related to him blood.
In these three small vignettes, Jesus models for us 
     what it looks like 
          to live so fully in the center of God’s will, 
               so closely aligned with the Spirit,
that the opinions of others fall into their proper place. 

He does offer a warning in the midst of these stories – a warning to those who would falsely accuse him of consorting with the enemy. 
And it is in that warning that we begin to see how he does what he does – both the miraculous displays of power and the confident refusal to be swayed from his mission:

The very Spirit of God is at work in him.

The very Spirit of God.

_______

Lord Jesus, I stand in awe before you today, recognizing how much you have to teach me about living rightly. Help me to know, way down deep in the crevices of my soul, that your Spirit – the same Spirit that filled you – is alive and well and wanting to steady me, to counsel me in the doing of your word, in the living of a Jesus life. Amen and amen.

Click here for day one of this series and an explanation of what it’s all about.
 

Filed Under: biblical reflection, Lenten Journey, Wonderings in the Word

A Lenten Journey: Climbing to Calvary – Day ELEVEN

March 5, 2012 By
Psalm 57, Today’s New International Version
For the director of music. To the tune of “Do Not Destroy.” Of David. A miktam. When he had fled from Saul into the cave.
Have mercy on me, my God, have mercy on me,
   for in you I take refuge.
I will take refuge in the shadow of your wings
   until the disaster has passed.
I cry out to God Most High,
   to God, who vindicates me. 
He sends from heaven and saves me,
   rebuking those who hotly pursue me—
   God sends forth his love and his faithfulness.
 
I am in the midst of lions;
   I am forced to dwell among man-eating beasts,
whose teeth are spears and arrows,
   whose tongues are sharp swords.
 
Be exalted, O God, above the heavens;
   let your glory be over all the earth.
 
They spread a net for my feet—
   I was bowed down in distress.
They dug a pit in my path—
   but they have fallen into it themselves.
 
My heart, O God, is steadfast,
   my heart is steadfast;
   I will sing and make music. 
Awake, my soul!
   Awake, harp and lyre!
   I will awaken the dawn.
 
I will praise you, Lord, among the nations;
   I will sing of you among the peoples. 
For great is your love, reaching to the heavens;
   your faithfulness reaches to the skies.
 
Be exalted, O God, above the heavens;
   let your glory be over all the earth.
_______
David is a singer – first, last and always.
It seems singing is what he was made to do.
No matter what life throws in his path,
the man sings.
He sings of joy.
He sings of fear.
He sings of sorrow.
He sings of sin.
He sings.
Sometimes he sings about himself – how frazzled he feels, how surrounded, even buried by the difficulties of his life.
Sometimes he bluntly sings of his own good character, his stalwart loyalty, his fearsome warrior skills.

Sometimes he sings about the physical enemies who frighten, pursue and threaten him.

But all the time, he sings about God.
He cries out to God for mercy.
He declares the outrageous saving grace 
of the God he communes with, 
     the God he calls to, 
     the God he worships.
And this particular song swings from high to low and back again, containing little bits of all of the above.
And it is beautiful, isn’t it? Filled with sharp juxtapositions of his own fears and the faithfulness of the God who saves him.

But the transition that just lifts my heart today, that offers encouragement and hope and challenge is this one:
I am in the midst of lions;
   I am forced to dwell among man-eating beasts,
whose teeth are spears and arrows,
   whose tongues are sharp swords.
 
Be exalted, O God, above the heavens;
   let your glory be over all the earth.
Because I’ve been there, haven’t you?
     In the midst of strange beasts, with sharp teeth and sharper tongues. 
     Feeling as though I’m being eaten alive by 
          the demands of others, 
          the demands of my over-busy life, 
          the demands of life-in-general.
     Feeling surrounded, 
          overwhelmed, 
               heavy-laden, 
                    in defensive mode, 
                         crouching in the corner,
too terrified to peek out and see if those snarling creatures are still there, 
     ready to pounce. 
But when I find myself there, 
     facing the hot breath and growling gutturals of life –
I want to do what David does.
I want to sing a song of remembrance,
     a song of exaltation,
          a song of exuberant praise,
acknowledging that GOD is God – 
     bigger than my fears,
     bigger than any beasts that may choose to come and lurk in my parlor,
     bigger than life-in-general.
Can I hear an ‘amen?’
_______
Good and Great God, Maker of the Universe and Savior of the World – help me to sing with your servant, David. To sing honestly when I’m feeling afraid. To sing expectantly when I’m facing an uncertain future, to sing resoundingly when I remember Who You are. O, Praise your name forever!


Click here for day one of this series and an explanation of what it’s all about.

As has happened many times in our long relationship, my husband came through the bedroom where I was busily writing or reading and said, “You need to come outside and take a look at this – right now!” And there was this enormous rainbow, just shimmering out there. I grabbed my camera quickly, not looking at the lens first and snapped about a dozen pictures. By the time I finished snapping, the bow was gone. Too bad I didn’t wipe that filter off first! So, I’m sorry about the spots here and there – but I think  you get the size and brightness of this beautiful reminder of beauty in the midst of stormy weather. Somehow fitting for this psalm.
 





Filed Under: biblical reflection, Lenten Journey, Wonderings in the Word
« Previous Page
Next Page »