Lenten Journey — Page 19

A Lenten Journey: Climbing to the Cross – SECOND Sunday

March 4, 2012 By Diana

Romans 4:13-25 – The Message

That famous promise God gave Abraham—that he and his children would possess the earth—was not given because of something Abraham did or would do. It was based on God’s decision to put everything together for him, which Abraham then entered when he believed. If those who get what God gives them only get it by doing everything they are told to do and filling out all the right forms properly signed, that eliminates personal trust completely and turns the promise into an ironclad contract! That’s not a holy promise; that’s a business deal. A contract drawn up by a hard-nosed lawyer and with plenty of fine print only makes sure that you will never be able to collect. But if there is no contract in the first place, simply a promise—and God’s promise at that—you can’t break it.

This is why the fulfillment of God’s promise depends entirely on trusting God and his way, and then simply embracing him and what he does. God’s promise arrives as pure gift. That’s the only way everyone can be sure to get in on it, those who keep the religious traditions and those who have never heard of them. For Abraham is father of us all. He is not our racial father—that’s reading the story backward. He is our faith father.

We call Abraham “father” not because he got God’s attention by living like a saint, but because God made something out of Abraham when he was a nobody. Isn’t that what we’ve always read in Scripture, God saying to Abraham, “I set you up as father of many peoples”? Abraham was first named “father” and then became a father because he dared to trust God to do what only God could do: raise the dead to life, with a word make something out of nothing. When everything was hopeless, Abraham believed anyway, deciding to live not on the basis of what he saw he couldn’t do but on what God said he would do. And so he was made father of a multitude of peoples. God himself said to him, “You’re going to have a big family, Abraham!”

Abraham didn’t focus on his own impotence and say, “It’s hopeless. This hundred-year-old body could never father a child.” Nor did he survey Sarah’s decades of infertility and give up. He didn’t tiptoe around God’s promise asking cautiously skeptical questions. He plunged into the promise and came up strong, ready for God, sure that God would make good on what he had said. That’s why it is said, “Abraham was declared fit before God by trusting God to set him right.” But it’s not just Abraham; it’s also us! The same thing gets said about us when we embrace and believe the One who brought Jesus to life when the conditions were equally hopeless. The sacrificed Jesus made us fit for God, set us right with God.

_______

If you have made it through this LONG stretch of Romans, I salute you. If you haven’t, I urge you to go back, spend an extra 3-4 minutes and read it All.The.Way.Down.

It is great stuff.

I love what Peterson has done with these 15 verses, even though he used a whole lot more words than any other translation I checked!

He has taken some dense theology, in which Paul is working through a foundational Old Testament text, and he has made it comprehensible and current.

Nice work. Really nice.

So I took a little bit of artistic license and decided to try and do the same thing with today’s photo-for-reflection. See if you can follow my convoluted choice.

Look specifically at that last paragraph, the one with these words:

“He didn’t tiptoe around God’s promise asking cautiously skeptical questions. He plunged into the promise and came up strong, ready for God, sure that God would make good on what he had said. That’s why it is said, “Abraham was declared fit before God by trusting God to set him right.” But it’s not just Abraham; it’s also us! The same thing gets said about us when we embrace and believe the One who brought Jesus to life when the conditions were equally hopeless. The sacrificed Jesus made us fit for God, set us right with God.“

With this paragraph, Peterson re-states the story of Abraham and Sarah, and that unbelievable promise made to them by God – that they would father/mother many nations, even though they were old – and as the words starkly remind us – ‘impotent and infertile.’

Every other Bible you can find will choose to use a big word like ‘righteousness’ or ‘justification’ where Peterson has chosen the small word, ‘fit.’

And it is a perfect word. Absolutely perfect.

Because of the promises of God,

and the work of Jesus on the cross and out the tomb,

we are made fit to be with God.

Because of our Elder Brother,

we are welcomed into the heavenly places, from the get-go.

And like Abraham, we are encouraged not to simply be onlookers to this promise of fitness. No.
     We are encouraged
          to ‘plunge into the promise,’
          to ‘come up strong,’
          to ‘trust that God will make us right.’

The fitness comes to us as a gift of grace;
it becomes fully ours when we step into it and own it.

The picture I chose for today is of two brothers – a little brother and an elder one. The littler one wanted to play superheroes; the bigger brother bent down and joined him in the game – and they had a grand time on that Hawaiian beach four summers ago.

And here’s where you have to bear with me just a bit,

for a slightly stretched analogy…

Our Elder Brother has joined us in the game of life.

And even though we’ll never be the Superhero he is,

we are invited to apprentice,

to learn,

to trust,

and ultimately,

to put on that cape and FLY.

Wanna join in?

_______

O Jesus, I know this is WAY over-simplified, but somehow it helps me to see this beautiful truth of ours put into this everyday language. And remembering the sweetness of that big brother that day in 2008 helps me to picture the sweetness of your love for us. It’s not a game – this much I’ve learned the hard way – but it is an adventure. I thank you for making me fit enough to join you in it.

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 TEN

March 3, 2012 By Diana

Psalm 139 – Today’s New International Version

You have searched me, LORD, and you know me. You know when I sit and when I rise;
   you perceive my thoughts from afar.
You discern my going out and my lying down;
   you are familiar with all my ways.
Before a word is on my tongue
   you, LORD, know it completely.
You hem me in behind and before,
   and you lay your hand upon me.
Such knowledge is too wonderful for me,
   too lofty for me to attain.

Where can I go from your Spirit?
   Where can I flee from your presence?
If I go up to the heavens, you are there;
   if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.
If I rise on the wings of the dawn,
   if I settle on the far side of the sea,
even there your hand will guide me,
   your right hand will hold me fast.
If I say, “Surely the darkness will hide me
   and the light become night around me,”
even the darkness will not be dark to you;
   the night will shine like the day,
   for darkness is as light to you.

For you created my inmost being;
   you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
   your works are wonderful,
   I know that full well.
My frame was not hidden from you
   when I was made in the secret place.
When I was woven together in the depths of the earth, your eyes saw my unformed body.
All the days ordained for me
   were written in your book
   before one of them came to be.
How precious to me are your thoughts, God!
   How vast is the sum of them!
Were I to count them,
   they would outnumber the grains of sand—
   when I awake, I am still with you.

If only you, God, would slay the wicked!
   Away from me, you who are bloodthirsty!
They speak of you with evil intent;
   your adversaries misuse your name.
Do I not hate those who hate you, LORD,
   and abhor those who are in rebellion against you?
I have nothing but hatred for them;
   I count them my enemies.
Search me, O God, and know my heart;
   test me and know my anxious thoughts.
See if there is any offensive way in me,
   and lead me in the way everlasting.

_______

“Search me, O God, and know my heart…”

Have you ever wondered why this plaintive prayer is part of this particular psalm?

In earlier verses, some beautiful singing has been going on – songs of the everywhere-God, the God-from-whom-we-cannot-escape.

If the psalmist is right – and hundreds of years of Christian theology affirm that he/she is exactly right – then there is nowhere that this singer can go where God is not already present.

NOwhere.
There is no way to be outside of the presence of God.

Think about that for a moment.

The only other person in the universe from whom you can never be separated is…
yourself.

And we all know how often we wish we could run the heck somewhere – anywhere! – from ourselves, don’t we?

Yet the spiritual teachers I’ve been studying in the last few years all say something like this:
     the more we know ourselves, the more we know God;
     the closer we get to the center of who we are,
     the closer we come to God.

Which is not to say that we are God.

It is to say that doing the soul-searching work of introspection, really understanding who we are,
     how we’re wired,
     where the shadows are and
     where the light shines brightly –
this is the work that brings us closest to the heart of God.

Because God is the one who drew up the original blueprint, you see.

God is the one who sees us as we are – and as we could be.

And God is the one who can call forth from us
our very best, very brightest, very truest self.

So…

When I join the psalmist in asking God to search and know me,
I am doing the best work there is.

Because out of that work, the river of life flows from me to others.

Out of that work,
out of that searching,
the broken places in me can widen just enough
to let the light of Christ shine out into the everyday world God has asked me to inhabit.

So, then, this small prayer – the one that feels almost like an add-on – well, it’s a really big one to pray, isn’t it?

“Search me, O God. Test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me and lead me in the way everlasting.”

_______

So, with a deep intake of breath, I do pray that prayer, Lord. Help me to do the work – the hard, sometimes slogging and oh-so-slow work – of knowing myself and knowing You. May I rejoice in the assurance of your everywhere-Self; may I know the joy of your salvation and radiate that joy wherever I go.

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 NINE

March 2, 2012 By Diana

Chagall Blue Windows, St. Stephen’s Church, Mainz, Germany

(I believe these were some of the ones done by his students, after his death.)

1 Corinthians 3:16-23, The Message:

You realize, don’t you, that you are the temple of God, and God himself is present in you? No one will get by with vandalizing God’s temple, you can be sure of that. God’s temple is sacred—and you, remember, are the temple.

Don’t fool yourself. Don’t think that you can be wise merely by being up-to-date with the times.

Be God’s fool—that’s the path to true wisdom.

What the world calls smart, God calls stupid.

It’s written in Scripture,

   He exposes the chicanery of the chic.
   The Master sees through the smoke screens
      of the know-it-alls.

I don’t want to hear any of you bragging about yourself or anyone else. Everything is already yours as a gift—Paul, Apollos, Peter, the world, life, death, the present, the future—all of it is yours,

and you are privileged to be in union with Christ, who is in union with God.

_______

If I let myself, I could begin to feel ever-so-slightly smug and superior to those Corinthian Christians.

They’re just a mess.

There’s sexual immorality going on, right in the congregation.

They apparently like to brag about themselves and how smart they are.

They insist on choosing sides – playing up their favorite teachers and insisting that he/she is the best.

They can’t seem to keep all the teaching straight – they forget about certain truths when it’s convenient to do so

They just don’t get the whole Jesus scene, do they? (she said, condescendingly.)

Gulp.

Ummm…I’ve just read over this list – and every single thing on it has been true in one congregation or another that I’ve been a part of.

And way more of it than I like to admit is also true of me.

Like…

An unhealthy spirit of competition.

An oh-so-convenient forgetting of some things when remembering them might be tough…

or embarrassing,

or frustrating,

or scary,

or completely counter-intuitive.

An entrenched belief that intelligence is what matters,

that education wins the day and proves the point,

that understanding things with my mind is much more important than living them with my life.

Okay. I’m feeling embarrassed, maybe just a wee bit more humble.

So…maybe I’m ready to read these words again, a little more slowly this time.

And I discover that the admonitions in this short selection of verses are ringing in my head, with chimes of

validation,

agreement and

regret.

Because I’ve certainly done my share of vandalizing this temple of mine:

too much food,

too little exercise,

too little sleep.

And I do try to keep up with the times – yes, I do.

I try to be at least minimally well-read,

to be able to support whatever position I might hold

on any given subject,

quoting chapter-and-verse of the latest ‘in’ guru.

And the very LAST thing I ever want to do is look the fool.

Heaven forbid!

Ah. That’s exactly it, isn’t it.

Heaven does not forbid my looking like a fool.

In fact, it seems that heaven encourages my looking like a fool.

Ouch.

I really don’t like the sound of that at all.

What will people think?

How will I survive the embarrassment, the humiliation?

Here’s how: by remembering.

Specifically – remembering that everything I need to know, everything I need to live – is already mine, as a gift.

A gift.

“…the world, life, death, the present, the future.”

It’s already mine.

Imagine that!

On second thought,

in light of this truth,

maybe looking the fool isn’t such a bad thing after all.

_____

Lord God Almighty, may I consistently live the life of the holy fool, one who is freed from the burden of over-caring about the opinions of others; free to live the Jesus life, to love the Jesus love, to whoop and holler or to weep and rail, all at the gentle guiding of your Spirit. Help me always to remember that the life I live – and the death I die; the present I inhabit and the future I will discover – are all mine by your gracious gift.

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

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

A Lenten Journey: Climbing to the Cross – Day EIGHT

March 1, 2012 By Diana

Mark 2:1-12, Today’s New International Version

A few days later, when Jesus again entered Capernaum, the people heard that he had come home. They gathered in such large numbers that there was no room left, not even outside the door, and he preached the word to them. Some men came, bringing to him a paralyzed man, carried by four of them. Since they could not get him to Jesus because of the crowd, they made an opening in the roof above Jesus by digging through it and then lowered the mat the man was lying on. When Jesus saw their faith, he said to the paralyzed man, “Son, your sins are forgiven.”

Now some teachers of the law were sitting there, thinking to themselves, “Why does this fellow talk like that? He’s blaspheming! Who can forgive sins but God alone?”

Immediately Jesus knew in his spirit that this was what they were thinking in their hearts, and he said to them, “Why are you thinking these things? Which is easier: to say to this paralyzed man, ‘Your sins are forgiven,’ or to say, ‘Get up, take your mat and walk’? But I want you to know that the Son of Man has authority on earth to forgive sins.” So he said to the man, “I tell you, get up, take your mat and go home.” He got up, took his mat and walked out in full view of them all. This amazed everyone and they praised God, saying, “We have never seen anything like this!”

_______

Do you deal with paralysis?

I mean, are there some things in this life that literally paralyze you?

Maybe things like this:
   fear about the future;
   worry about someone you love – a child, if you have one, or a parent, a friend,
         a spouse;
   grief over the loss of a loved one or a loved relationship;
   overwhelming feelings of inadequacy;
   creeping depression;
   inertia, what the desert fathers and mothers called ‘acedia;’
   chronic fatigue;
   too many small children with too many noisy needs;
   too many teenaged children with too many mysterious needs;
   constantly feeling as though you are somehow never quite ‘enough?’
   generalized anxiety that literally stops you in your tracks.

There are lots of ways to be paralyzed.

There is, of course, physical paralysis – what seems to be described in this Jesus episode.

But there is also psychological and spiritual paralysis – an inability to make forward movement without help.

And in our story today, help is provided!

Friends see a need.
     And they see a possible solution to that need.
     They circle around.
     They brainstorm to overcome obstacles.
     They try something downright crazy, even borderline rude, to get their friend the help he needs.

And then…

Then Jesus looks at the friends, at their faith – their belief that help can be found – and he turns to the man who cannot move and says, “Son, your sins are forgiven.”

Son.
Your sins are forgiven.

Sort of a strange thing to say, when you think about it.
And it certainly alarmed all the religious folks who were there to watch the show. According to their boxed-in picture of God and how God works, Jesus is dangerously close to blasphemy with these words, for only God can judge or forgive sin.

And it is clear that Jesus is offering forgiveness, and out of forgiveness, healing.

But…is Jesus also casting judgment on this man?
On top of the grief and pain of paralysis, is Jesus laying a guilt trip on the guy?

I don’t think so.

He calls him, ‘son,’ for one thing,
a term of endearment, tenderness, concern.

Sounds a lot more like compassion than judgment to my ears.
With these words, Jesus is making a statement about us all; he offers a recognition of our oh-so-human condition.

Because, you see
   we are broken (and in need of healing)
   and we are sinful (and in need of forgiveness),
     all of it the result of our shared human compulsion
          to be our own god.

And Jesus came to save us from all of it –
     the sin bits and the broken bits –
and to restore to us
     the grace,
     the beauty,
     and the divine image
that is part of the original design.

So why not say, “Your sins are forgiven?”
And then, of course, also say, “Be healed.”

But here’s the piece I don’t want to miss – oh, I really don’t want to miss this!

WE CAN HELP EACH OTHER when paralysis takes over.
We can pool our faith with that of one or two or three others – perhaps when our paralyzed friends can’t quite find their own?

And then we can lean into our shared faith (where two or three are gathered, right?) as we carry our paralyzed friend into the very presence of Jesus.

We can circle around,
     we can brainstorm creatively and lovingly,
     we can identify where help can be found, and
     we can help carry our friend into exactly the right place,
the place of healing and forgiveness.

Isn’t that amazing?

_______

Great Healer, Great Savior – You are the help we need. Thank you for inviting us into the helping circle with you. And thank you for revealing Truth with a capital “T” to skilled and willing people who can help us to deal with medical/ psychological/emotional/spiritual maladies. Help me to see what this man’s friends saw – to see people in trouble and to work and pray and recommend and refer and carry them bodily if I have to, so that more and more of us can move toward health and wholeness. So that we can get ‘unstuck,’ pick up our mats and walk outta here.

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 SEVEN

February 29, 2012 By Diana

1 Corinthians 6:12-30, Today’s New International Version:

And so it was with me, brothers and sisters. When I came to you, I did not come with eloquence or human wisdom as I proclaimed to you the testimony about God. For I resolved to know nothing while I was with you except Jesus Christ and him crucified. I came to you in weakness with great fear and trembling. My message and my preaching were not with wise and persuasive words, but with a demonstration of the Spirit’s power, so that your faith might not rest on human wisdom, but on God’s power.

We do, however, speak a message of wisdom among the mature, but not the wisdom of this age or of the rulers of this age, who are coming to nothing. No, we declare God’s wisdom, a mystery that has been hidden and that God destined for our glory before time began. None of the rulers of this age understood it, for if they had, they would not have crucified the Lord of glory. However, as it is written:
“What no eye has seen,
what no ear has heard,
and what no human mind has conceived—
these things God has prepared for those who love him”—

for God has revealed them to us by his Spirit.

The Spirit searches all things, even the deep things of God. For who knows a person’s thoughts except that person’s own spirit within? In the same way no one knows the thoughts of God except the Spirit of God. We have not received the spirit of the world but the Spirit who is from God, that we may understand what God has freely given us. This is what we speak, not in words taught us by human wisdom but in words taught by the Spirit, explaining spiritual realities with Spirit-taught words.

_______

Just when I begin to get comfortable with a passage of scripture, just when I think maybe I’ve got it nailed – something strange happens.

I read it again.

And sure enough, I see something new there,
something I hadn’t seen before,
something that catches me off guard.

The passage we’ve just read is a prime example:

“The Spirit searches all things, even the deep things of God…”

“We have not received the spirit of the world but the Spirit who is from God…”

And here all this time, I thought the Spirit was the quieter
member of this Trinity Godhead,
   The Comforter,
   The Consoler,
   The Advocate.

Yes…but…this passage seems to imply that there might be a few other monikers that would fit Person #3:
   The Infiltrator
   The Instigator
   The Explainer
   The Translator

The same Spirit who searches the deep things of God
is the One who indwells us,
guiding us into understanding,
understanding some of those very deep things that
the Spirit has been searching out in the Mind of God Almighty.

Okay, brain freeze here.
If this is true, then how come we’ve still got so many ‘discussions’
going on the larger church,
so many points of serious disagreement about scripture,
history, gender roles, science…
you name it, we’ve got heated talk going on about it.

Well, for one thing, we’re a messy lot out here in Christendom.
Our antennae are notoriously faulty.
We pay more attention to that loudmouth person over there – the one we really, really do not like,
(or the one we secretly idolize),
than we do to the still, small voice.

And maybe it’s got something to do with this line from Paul’s letter to Corinth:

“…no one knows the thoughts of God except the Spirit of God.”

It is so easy for us to lose sight of this truth.
We think we’ve got the inside scoop on the mind of God,
that we’ve got a corner on ‘the whole truth.’

When maybe what’s called for is a tiny piece of humility.
A recognition that there are lots and LOTS of things we don’t know and never will.
That “no human mind has conceived what God has prepared for those who love him.”

And here is a good and true thing about this time of the year:
     Lent is exactly the right time for growing in humility.
     Lent is exactly the right time for continuing conversion.
     Lent is exactly the right time for lifting our hands to heaven and crying,
    “Be God, God. By your Spirit at work in the church, teach us to listen to you and to one another. Teach us to walk humbly with you. And to walk humbly with each other, too.”
_______

Holy Spirit, I thank you that you refuse to be put into a box of our design. You are free, you are powerful, you are loving, and you are convicting. Help us to tune up our antennae this Lenten season. Help us to tune in to YOU.

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 SIX

February 28, 2012 By Diana

Psalm 47, Today’s New International Version:

Clap your hands, all you nations;
shout to God with cries of joy.

For the LORD Most High is awesome,
the great King over all the earth.

He subdued nations under us,
peoples under our feet.

He chose our inheritance for us,
the pride of Jacob, whom he loved.

God has ascended amid shouts of joy,
the LORD amid the sounding of trumpets.

Sing praises to God, sing praises;
sing praises to our King, sing praises.

For God is the King of all the earth;
sing to him a psalm of praise.

God reigns over the nations;
God is seated on his holy throne.

The nobles of the nations assemble
as the people of the God of Abraham,
for the kings of the earth belong to God;
he is greatly exalted.

_______

Sometimes, you’ve just gotta sing praise.

That’s all there is to it.

You remember who God is.

And who you are not.

“God has ascended amid shouts of joy!”

ALL RIGHT! Amen. Hallelujah.

Except.

During Lent, the hallelujahs are supposed to be

suppressed,

removed from the liturgy,

laid to rest until Easter Sunday,

when they will surge forth from the people of God.

So today, I’ll do the praising a little more quietly,

more quietly even than I might feel.

Because I think it’s good to keep a season of quiet,

to contain the exuberance,

to reflect on the seriousness of this journey we’re on.

I will admit that 40 days is a very.long.time.

And by the time we get to the end,

I’m gonna want to let ‘er rip –

I mean,

every word of joyful abandon I can find.

40 days feels like a long, hard climb.

But then I think about that for just a minute.

And really, is it so much to ask?

After all, ‘from the foundations of the world,’

scripture tell us –

that’s how long Jesus has been climbing that hill to

our salvation,

our restoration,

our wholeness.

On second thought, I think I can hike with him for 40 days.

Yes. I think I can.

_______

Lord Jesus Christ, thank you for taking the dive and making the climb. For sinking and rising, for coming and changing everything. Thank you for the journey you made for me; now strengthen me to journey for you and with you during this Lenten season.

_______

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 FIVE

February 27, 2012 By Diana

Mark 1:1-13, The Message:*

The good news of Jesus Christ—the Message!—begins here, following to the letter the scroll of the prophet Isaiah.
   Watch closely: I’m sending my preacher ahead of you;
   He’ll make the road smooth for you.
   Thunder in the desert!
   Prepare for God’s arrival!
   Make the road smooth and straight!

John the Baptizer appeared in the wild, preaching a baptism of life-change that leads to forgiveness of sins. People thronged to him from Judea and Jerusalem and, as they confessed their sins, were baptized by him in the Jordan River into a changed life. John wore a camel-hair habit, tied at the waist with a leather belt. He ate locusts and wild field honey.

As he preached he said, “The real action comes next: The star in this drama, to whom I’m a mere stagehand, will change your life. I’m baptizing you here in the river, turning your old life in for a kingdom life. His baptism—a holy baptism by the Holy Spirit—will change you from the inside out.”

At this time, Jesus came from Nazareth in Galilee and was baptized by John in the Jordan. The moment he came out of the water, he saw the sky split open and God’s Spirit, looking like a dove, come down on him. Along with the Spirit, a voice: “You are my Son, chosen and marked by my love, pride of my life.”

At once, this same Spirit pushed Jesus out into the wild. For forty wilderness days and nights he was tested by Satan. Wild animals were his companions, and angels took care of him.

_______

As I’m reading this very familiar passage this morning, I find myself wondering about something.

I’m wondering if the Protestant evangelical movement, so forceful and strong in the last several decades, isn’t maybe listening a bit more to John the Baptist than it is to Jesus?

I know, I know – that sounds dangerous and provocative, maybe even political. I don’t mean it to be any of those things.

I am just wondering.

John the B preaches repentance and lifestyle change – and people lap it up. They see something in him that they like, they hear things that challenge them and they grab hold.

But what strikes me in this passage is that John didn’t take himself nearly as seriously as everyone else seems to have done. In fact, he clearly points to Jesus and he differentiates between his message and ministry and what will come when Jesus shows up.

Because Jesus will speak with a different kind of authority, a different kind of power. And it won’t be about lifestyle change alone. It will be about total makeover, from the inside out.

So, I’m wondering.

With the intrusion of what was the precursor of the evangelical movement today – the fundamentalist movement of the early 20th century (and that movement is an important part of my heritage and I am grateful for many pieces of it) –
but with that movement came a strong emphasis on
     right behavior,
     right belief,
     strict adherence to a moral code
without nearly as much emphasis on the radical nature of the Jesus message and the power of the Spirit to wreak havoc with who we are, not just what we do…

As I keep saying: I’m wondering. And I’ll likely keep on wondering. Seems to be what I do a lot of.

And I’m also struck – again! – with those very opening words – Jesus the Messiah, the bringer of the Message, the Good News – is the very specific fulfillment of the prophetic ministry of Isaiah.

I think maybe it’s time to read that dude again.

_______

Sometimes, Holy Spirit, I’m not sure I like the way you mess with my mind. So, please keep me open and humble and honest as you muck about in there. Because when it’s all said and done, I really do want to be like Jesus. Even if it means I’ve got to live with the muck more often than I might choose.
_______
*Right here is an example of how the daily lectionary sometimes overlaps with the Sunday one. We did part of this passage yesterday – so I chose a different translation to work with today. And sure enough, the Spirit took me in a completely different direction. The Spirit is weird that way.

And if you haven’t a clue what I mean when I reference the lectionary, click here to go back to Day One and the explanation provided there.

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

A Lenten Journey: Climbing to the Cross – FIRST Sunday

February 26, 2012 By Diana

Mark 1:9-15, Today’s New International Version:

One day Jesus came from Nazareth in Galilee, and John baptized him in the Jordan River. As Jesus came up out of the water, he saw the heavens splitting apart and the Holy Spirit descending on him like a dove. And a voice from heaven said, “You are my dearly loved Son, and you bring me great joy.”

The Spirit then compelled Jesus to go into the wilderness, where he was tempted by Satan for forty days. He was out among the wild animals, and angels took care of him.

Later on, after John was arrested, Jesus went into Galilee, where he preached God’s Good News. “The time promised by God has come at last!” he announced. “The Kingdom of God is near! Repent of your sins and believe the Good News!”

_______

“You bring me great joy.”

I cannot imagine hearing anything more delightful,

more affirming,

more satisfying.

We all yearn for that, I think:

to be a source of joy in someone’s life.

And this goes way beyond what most of us think of when we hear the word ‘romantic.’

I happen to be a big believer in romance, true romance –
     not melodrama,
     not soap opera,
     not fuzzy hearts and x’s and o’s scribbled on the bottom of a gooey card.

Romance that lays a sure foundation,

romance that resonates with commitment,

romance that walks with us through all of it –

the high-endorphin times and the bottom-of-the-pit times,

the fireworks and the clean-up afterwards,

the shared laughter and the separate tears.

“You bring me great joy.”

Yeah, that’s what I’m talkin’ about!

That’s what I want.

But then…

there’s this little phrase:

“The Spirit then compelled Jesus to go out into the wilderness…”

Um. This is sounding less and less romantic.

Wilderness. 40 days. Temptation. Wild animals. SATAN.

There is the saving grace of ministering angels.

But gee whiz, this is decidedly UNromantic, don’t you think?

And yet…

I wonder:

A beautiful and encouraging word at the river.

A time of testing and struggle in the isolation of the desert.

A brand new ministry of fulfillment, repentance and GOOD NEWS.

There must be a connecting thread here.

Somewhere.

And I’m thinking, it just might be romance, after all.

A sure foundation.

Commitment.

Walking through the good stuff and the hard stuff, sometimes alone – but never abandoned.

Maybe, just maybe.

This could be how good, true romance is really built,

built to last.

For eternity and beyond.

_______

Saint Theresa thought you were the most romantic thing going, Lord. And maybe she was onto something. She, and a lot of the mystics who came after her, encourage us to take a good long look at You. A long, loving look at the Real. And when we do that, maybe we’ll see You, looking back at us, whispering, ‘You bring me great joy!’ Wow.
_______

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 FOUR

February 25, 2012 By Diana

Psalm 30, The Grail Translation:

“Thanksgiving for recovery from sickness”

I will praise you, LORD, you have rescued me

and have not let my enemies rejoice over me.

O LORD, I cried to you for help

and you, my God, have healed me.

O LORD, you have raised my soul from the dead,

restored me to life from those who sink into

the grave.

Sing psalms to the LORD, you faithful ones,

give thanks to his holy name.

God’s anger lasts a moment; God’s favor all

through life.

At night there are tears, but joy comes with dawn.

I said to myself in my good fortune:

“Nothing will ever disturb me.”

Your favor had set me on a mountain fastness,

then you hid your face and I was put to confusion.

To you, LORD, I cried,

to my God I made appeal:

“What profit would my death be, my going to

the grave?
Can dust give you praise or proclaim your truth?”

The LORD listened and had pity.

The LORD came to my help.

For me you have changed my mourning

into dancing,

you removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy.

So my soul sings psalms to you unceasingly.

O LORD my God, I will thank you forever.

_______

There is something so real about this language,

so true to who we are as people who struggle.

We don’t have the answers we think we want.

We wrestle with the hard stuff.

We get sick, we are fearful of dying,

we would like to blame someone for that –

whether it’s ‘enemies,’ or God.

The psalmists all tell it like it is and I find that both

refreshing and encouraging. And sometimes, I find it puzzling.

Because this is what it feels like when life gets messy and tough.

It feels like God turns away from us;

or it feels like God rescues us.

Both of these experiences are part of what it means to live this life we’re called to, aren’t they?

And I want to rush right in here and say,

“But…

God doesn’t turn away from us.

The Word tells us God will never leave us.”

Yet if I say that – and I do – then maybe I also have to say this other,

much harder thing:

“God doesn’t rescue us, either.

Except in the ultimate sense.

We are rescued from ourselves and our sin and our brokenness because of Jesus.

We are rescued from a life of meaninglessness and free-floating purposelessness.”

But are we rescued from the frailties and foibles of this life?

The one we are all living here in the mess?

Clearly, we are not.

Good people do suffer.

Faithful followers do encounter pain, grief, loss,

sometimes even what feels like unrelenting agony.

Children die.

Wars rage.

Natural disasters wreak havoc around the globe.

And yet…

and yet…

There is healing.

There is redemption.

There is joy in the morning.

And there are tears in the night.

The wisdom writers in the Old Testament all tumble these ideas around. And what I love about our scripture is that these authors provide a variety of answers. Perhaps that’s why we push/pull about it to this day. Some believe God is responsible for all of our suffering. Some believe God allows it. Some believe the truth lies somewhere in the middle.

I don’t know.

This I do know, however.

God is so much bigger than we can even begin to imagine. And if God is truth, then I guess that means that the Truth is so much bigger than we can imagine, too. (If you want a small sample of this kind of thinking, check out The Pilgrim’s words at this site.)

So I think I’ll join with the psalmist and sing about it all –
the glories of health
and the darkness of illness and death.
Because it’s all part of the tapestry being woven
in this thing
we call life.

_______

God of the Cosmos, You know how feeble this brain of mine is. How I cannot begin to wrap my thoughts around Who You are, and How You are. This much I know: Someone is in this muck with me and I believe his name is Jesus. Together, we can walk through anything. And for that, I say, ‘thank you.’ And for that, I say, ‘help me, teach me, put my feet in the right place.’ And for that, I say, ‘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

5 Minute Friday – GRIT: An Essay with Photos

February 24, 2012 By Diana

Wowza. It’s Friday again. Whoosh – that week just flew by. But every Friday, we try to write like we believe we can fly (Lisa-Jo’s fine words). So I’ll give it a whirl, one more time. Take a prompt. Set a timer. GO. Write. STOP. And see what comes out. Try it, you’ll like it. And check out a few others who’ve got it going on over at The Gypsy Mama’s place.

This week’s prompt? GRIT
GO:

I got some grit between my toes today. Yes, I surely did.

It was bright and beautiful here.

And I had a ton of errands to run. But not so many that I couldn’t take a break at lunchtime and run down to the beach.

I went to the slough – an engineered salt water river and estuary that draws the water birds, by the hundreds.

And I walked right down onto the sand with my camera in hand, and I started pointing and shooting.

And smiling inside.

In a big, big way.

Because when I’m tired.
Or when I’m worried.
Or when I’m feeling insecure, or out of place, or not at all sure that I’m doing what I ‘should’ be doing…

what I need is a little bit of that gritty stuff between my toes.
And some time with the birds.

I don’t know a whole lot about them, but I surely do love to watch them do their bird thing.

They know exactly what to do. And they know when to do it.
They don’t battle insecurity.
They don’t wonder if they’re living up to their potential.
They don’t try to be anything other than what they are.

They do what their Creator designed them to do.
Every moment. Of every day.

And they do it with beauty, grace, humor and a fair amount of noise.

And I LOVE IT.

Lord, help me to be exactly who you’ve made me to be. Nothing more. Nothing less.

And help me to do it with grit between my toes.

STOP

Writing time, exactly five minutes, including fixing two spelling errors.
Adding pictures? Well, a few more than five. :>)

Where the slough comes from the ocean.

The ‘big picture’ of the major sand bar, the eucalyptus grove, the Goleta hills behind.

A gathering of gulls, all facing into the warm sunlight.

Cormorants cooling it on some old pilings, watched over by a great blue heron.

A trio of pelicans, resting on a sand bar.

A great blue begins to circle around, seeking out his particular nest among the dozens of 100# twig collections in the tops of those trees.

The circle gets a little bigger…

…makes another loop…

…and then settles right in at home.

See that greater egret over there by the cliff? He’s my favorite.

Except maybe for this guy – a male red-breasted merganser.

But that tall one, back there in the shadows. He’s fascinating, don’t you think?

Now he steps forward, surrounded by black-winged stilt birds, with their knees all backwards. (Does the egret’s pose remind anyone of Steve Martin doing the Egyptian? Or are none of you old enough to remember that old act of his?)