The Waking Dreamer: 2018

Wednesday, December 12, 2018

Corrective Steps

Malachi 3:1-4; Luke 1:68-79[1]

I’m told that when I was born, both of my feet were turned to the right. In the early 60’s, the solution the doctors recommended was to have me wear two left shoes. What they did not know is the effect that would have on my body. All of my life, I’ve had problems with my right ankle and knee. Any sports that involved running were a challenge for me. I must add that the “corrective steps” the doctors applied to my feet must have done some good. They did enable me to walk! I have had to take further “corrective steps” as an adult. As a serious bicyclist, I found it helped to get fitted for custom orthotics. These days, my practice of yoga has benefited me greatly. The stances we do in yoga have probably helped the most in strengthening my right leg.

At some point in our lives, most of us will be advised to take corrective steps with some facet of our health. Some of those measures bring relief. Others may be a nuisance, or even downright unpleasant. Many of us know that some corrective steps doctors recommend can actually debilitate the patient. The treatment for cancer can be like that. Chemotherapy and radiation treatments are meant to kill the cancer, but they don’t have the ability to discriminate between malignant and healthy cells. The treatment for some diseases can be quite burdensome. Although the goal is to heal the body, the steps taken can be quite painful.

Our Scripture lessons for today address “corrective steps” that were needed among the people of Israel. In this respect, they don’t seem to fit the season of Advent. More than that they seem to be in tension with each another. Malachi speaks of one who will prepare the way for the Lord in fearful tones, warning of judgment. The song of Zechariah in Luke’s Gospel joyfully welcomes the birth of John the Baptizer as the one to go before the Lord. If you find yourself puzzled, you’re probably not alone. A pastor friend of mine mentioned to me this week that these were not her favorite texts to preach! How does judgment go together with salvation?

The prophet Malachi addresses the people of Judah at a time of disillusionment and complacency. It was some time after the exile in Babylon, and they were weak, poor, and relatively disorganized. That their commitment to God was failing can be seen from some of the practices that Malachi criticizes. It would seem that they had placed all their hopes in God to intervene. And so Malachi promised that God would indeed send a messenger to prepare for him to come to the people.

Although this was the focus of their hope, they thought of the Lord’s coming solely in terms of their deliverance. But Malachi speaks pointedly about some things that needed to be corrected in order for that deliverance to take place. He warns that God would come to judge those who were faithless, those who broke the bonds of fidelity, those who distorted the truth. He would come to judge “those who defraud laborers of their wages, who oppress the widows and the fatherless, and deprive the foreigners among you of justice” (Mal. 3:5). All of these practices directly contradicted specific instructions God had given his people in the Torah. The fact that failed to obey these instructions demonstrated, according to Malachi, that they did not truly honor the Lord with their lives. And so Malachi speaks of the one who would come in ominous tones, asking “who can endure the day of his coming, and who can stand when he appears?” (Mal. 3:2).

This seems quite a contrast to the joyful song of Zechariah about his son, John the Baptizer. Zechariah viewed his son as one who would prepare the way for the Lord in that he would “give knowledge of salvation to his people by the forgiveness of their sins” (Lk. 1:77). He saw the birth of John as the dawn of the “tender mercy of our God” that would bring light to those in darkness and guide the people to walk in “the way of peace” (Lk. 1:78-79). On the surface of things, it seems difficult if not impossible to reconcile these two visions of the one who would prepare the people for the Lord’s coming.

And yet, when you look at John’s ministry, you find that he sounds more like the messenger of judgment Malachi describes than the bringer of salvation and forgiveness. Luke’s Gospel tells us elsewhere that when John saw the crowds coming to be baptized by him, he turned them away, calling them a “brood of vipers” (Luke 3:7)! In order for them to experience the salvation of the Lord they would have to “Bear fruits worthy of repentance” (Lk. 3:8) by making some of the very same corrections that Malachi addressed in his day. How could this message of judgment and the call for a radical change of life have anything to do with salvation? In the words Luke quotes from the prophet Isaiah, for the people to experience God’s salvation, first that which was crooked must be made straight (Lk 3:5-6). The corrective steps that might sound harsh were intended to lead the people to once again love the Lord their God with all their hearts. Then they would know the salvation for which they had hoped so long.

As we celebrate our Lord’s coming to live among us on that first Christmas long ago, so we can also look forward to his coming again to complete the work of salvation. But we must remember that in order to experience God’s salvation, all of us will have to undergo some kind of correction. That which is crooked within us must be straightened out. The ways in which we live our lives that do not honor God will have to be purged, and that may be painful. There are “corrective steps” that we all need to take in order to truly love the Lord our God with all our hearts and truly love our neighbors as ourselves. But the end result of these corrective steps is that, on that final day, “all flesh will see the salvation of God!”

Tuesday, December 04, 2018

Standing on the Edge

Jeremiah 33:14-16, Luke 21:27[1]

Promises are powerful words. They can reassure us when we’re feeling afraid or lonely or rejected. They can encourage us when we’re doubting ourselves or wondering whether we are lovable. They can motivate us to act when we question whether anything we do or say matters. Promises are powerful words. Of course, power can be used for good or for evil. Sometimes promises become a means of manipulating people. At times, those promises may stem from good intentions. At times, they may stem from a blatant aim of getting people to do what we want without any thought of fulfilling the promise made. I believe most of us would like to think, however, that we use promises for good. We know that promises are powerful words.

If we take promises seriously, they may leave us standing on the edge of anticipation. After all, a promise points toward the future. Our ability to trust in a promise may rest on past experiences. If we have had promises made to us and broken, it can be hard to trust in any promise at all. When it comes to our faith, essentially we’re trusting in a promise that has not yet come to pass. And when we do so, we’re anticipating an outcome that we hope to see based on the promise made. It can feel a little bit like standing on an edge: the edge of a curb, or the edge of a journey, or the edge of a major life decision. Promises leave us standing on the edge.

I think the promises in our Scripture lessons for Advent function that way: they raise our hopes but they also leave us on the edge of anticipation. In the midst of the brokenness of our world, we greet the promise of something new and better with relief, and joy, and a sense of hope that perhaps all things will, after all, be put right. At the same time, if we are paying attention to the brokenness in our world, these promises create in us a kind of “holy dissatisfaction” with the way things are. They leave us standing on the edge of a whole new world that has been promised, but has not yet fully come to pass. The promises in the Scriptures for Advent raise our hopes, but they also leave us standing on the edge of anticipation.

The promises in the Scriptures for Advent have a different kind of edge to them. They speak of the one who is to come in a way that we may not be able to fully grasp. We seem to want a Savior who will grant to us eternal life and perhaps also the occasional prayer request. But the promised one in our Scriptures for Advent looks different from that. The promise that the Lord says he will “surely fulfill” concerns one who comes to “execute justice and righteousness in the land.” We’re not used to associating a Savior with “justice and righteousness.” But if we pay careful attention, we will find that establishing that which is truly just and right is at the heart of God’s promise.

I think perhaps part of what creates the edge for us here is that we are not used to thinking of salvation in these terms. Salvation concerns eternal life in the hereafter and abundant life now. As it turns out, however, creating the conditions for a life that is truly just and right is actually central to what salvation looks like in the Bible. Part of the “edge” in this promise is that it confronts us all with the ways in which we conduct our lives that are not just and right. It is a promise that contains hints of judgment. When the one God promised comes, he will bring to light all of our shortcomings. In fact, Jesus said that we will all face judgment to the extent of every “careless word” (Mt. 12:36). And yet, we have to remember that it is Jesus who is the one who be setting things right. Nevertheless, that promise has an edge that may leave us all a little unsettled.

There is also a further edge to these promises, in that they point us forward to the hope of the day when the Son of Man will come “with power and great glory.” At this time of the year, we may feel good about welcoming the “baby Jesus.” A baby, as most of us know well, is cute and cuddly and warms our hearts. At least that’s how we like to think of them. Parents, of course, know that babies have their moments that aren’t so cute.

But our Scripture readings speak of a very different person coming. They convey to us the promise of a mighty Savior who will come to establish God’s Kingdom on earth as it is in heaven. That may not fit very well with our version of celebrating Christmas. But if we listen carefully to the promises of Scripture, this is the Savior we should be welcoming. He is the one who comes with God’s authority and power to right the wrongs and to bring hope to the hopeless. He comes to fulfill God’s new world.

If we pay close attention, the promises of Advent leave us standing on the edge. They leave us standing on the edge of anticipation. There is something within us all that longs for the love of God that will heal our broken hearts and bring to pass a better world. The promises of Advent leave us standing on the edge of the restoration of what is just and right. As we watch events unfolding all around us, it’s painfully apparent that what is just and right does not always prevail in our world. Perhaps more painful is the realization that we don’t always practice what is just and right in our own lives. Finally, the promises of Advent point us to the coming of a mighty Savior to establish God’s Kingdom on earth as it is in heaven. In so doing, the leave us standing on the edge of world we’ve always hoped for but could never quite find. I know this hope is one that is difficult to hold these days, but may the promises of Advent encourage us to live in the hope that our Savior is continually working to bring this new world into our world.

Thursday, November 29, 2018

Gifts

Matthew 6:25-35[1]

Thanksgiving is probably one of my favorite holidays. That may be due in large part to the fact that I don’t usually have to work very hard for it! For me, Thanksgiving has all the benefits of being together with those I love without the stress of gift-giving associated with Christmas. More than that, Thanksgiving doesn’t really require much from us in a spiritual sense. We don’t have to engage in the self-reflection of Advent leading up to Christmas or the discipline of sacrifice for Lent leading up to Easter. Thanksgiving is more of a time to simply enjoy the blessings we have received.

As good as that may sound, there may be a twist here. Being “thankful” for blessings we have “received” means we have to acknowledge that our lives are not entirely in our own hands. We have to recognize, perhaps to an extent that makes us feel a bit uneasy, that we really don’t have that much control over our lives. We have to take the risk of trusting that we are in God’s hands, and that all that we are and all that we have comes from him as a gift. In a culture that prizes self-reliance, independence, and “pulling yourself up by your own bootstraps,” this can be somewhat unsettling.

In our Gospel lesson, contrary to our faith in our own efforts to build a life for ourselves, we find Jesus saying not to worry about the necessities of life. Of course, that doesn’t mean we’re not to pay attention to them. But there’s a difference between being responsible and worrying. Worrying comes from that notion that we can control our own lives if we try hard enough. And when our lives don’t go the way we want, we worry. We worry because we’re afraid we won’t get what we want out of life.

Instead, Jesus points us to the birds and the lilies as prime witnesses to a different approach to life. He says that God provides them with all they need. In fact, he says that “even Solomon in all his glory” didn’t look as beautiful as a field of lilies. Now, birds and lilies don’t typically rank very high on our list of the most important things in life. And yet Jesus says that the God who created the heavens and the earth cares enough for them to provide for their needs. Of course the implication is clear: how much more does God care for us and how much more can we rely on him to provide for our needs!

Jesus was fully aware that there were people in his day who had a very different outlook on life. He says that “the Gentiles” were those who “strive” for the things they believed they needed. There may have been many then, as there are now, who would have been quick to point out that the promise of a God who cares for us and provides for us has been around for a long time. And yet, there have been many people of faith who have been left wanting. From that point of view, it would seem foolish to go on believing in a God who provides for all our needs. The only appropriate action would be to go out there and “strive” for what we want.

I can just imagine Jesus, perhaps gently shaking his head, asking, “Who’s the fool?” Is it more foolish to believe that we belong to a God of grace and mercy and love, even though sometimes those who believe in God may suffer? Or is it more foolish to believe that we can somehow take our lives into our own hands mold them to suit our desires? Jesus would say you might as well try to add a foot to your height (Matt. 6:27)—it makes about as much sense as trying to control your life! Jesus makes it clear all our efforts to control our lives are the real folly!

Instead, Jesus calls us to a different path. He calls us to “seek first the Kingdom of God.” At the most basic level, “seeking first the Kingdom of God” means aligning our lives with what God is doing in this world. It means promoting God’s justice by sharing with those in need, putting into practice God’s unconditional love for all persons, and extending God’s grace and mercy freely to those around us. It’s a way of life that stems from the faith that all of life is ultimately in God’s hands.

Jesus says that when we cease striving for the things that we think make our lives secure and instead “seek first the Kingdom of God,” we find that “all these things will be given to you as well.” The truth of our lives is that all we need comes to us as a gift from God’s hand. For some of us, that might not sound so good. It can be unnerving. We much prefer to think that our lives are in our own hands. We much prefer to believe that we deserve what we have because we worked hard to get it. But Jesus says that makes about as much sense as believing we can make ourselves taller just by wanting it to be so.

We have the choice: we can choose to approach life based on the creed that says you’re on your own and your life depends entirely on you. It is a creed that ultimately rests on the fear and worry that Jesus warns against. It is a creed that is defined by striving—striving to control our lives. Or we can choose to approach our lives based on the faith that entrusts all of life into God’s hands, regardless of our specific circumstances. It is a faith that leads us to be thankful for the blessings we have received. It is a faith that humbly recognizes that all that we are and all that we have come to us as gifts from God’s generous grace. As hard as it may be for us, I think that may be the true basis for the celebration of Thanksgiving.

Wednesday, November 14, 2018

All We Have

Mark 12:38-44[1]

It’s not hard to see how much we as a people are preoccupied with our possessions. Especially at this time of the year. We’re already being bombarded by advertisements that seek to convince us that we don’t already have enough to be content. We need that newer TV, or that nicer car, or the latest and best electronic gadget. It’s the way our economy functions. It thrives when we go out and do our “due diligence” as consumers. That means spending money on more “stuff” at a rate that keeps the economy humming along nicely. We even have an index to measure this behavior: we call it “consumer confidence.” If we are “confident” consumers, we’re going to go out and spend our money on more things.

It seems to me that may be one of obvious ways in which our society fails to understand prosperity. Spending money becomes the measure of how well we’re doing. That we’re spending money on things we very likely don’t need doesn’t come into the picture. Nor does anyone stop to wonder whether all that spending is really a measure of our “confidence,” or a measure of our personal dissatisfaction with our lives. It seems to me that when we’re truly “confident,” we’re content with what we have, and we don’t need to go out and spend a lot of money on things we don’t need and may not even really want!

Our Gospel lesson for today throws the issue of wealth into the spotlight in a way that might seem rather uncomfortable. Jesus criticized some of the religious leaders who were so driven by their own conceit that they made an effort to look impressive with their beautiful robes and their “presence” in worship. He made it clear that it was all for show. He said that their “long prayers” were simply “for the sake of appearance” (Mk.12:40). In other words, they wanted to look like they were spiritual. But the fact that their real agenda was about themselves was revealed by the indictment Jesus made that they were defrauding some of the most vulnerable people in their society. It seems clear where their hearts really were—wrapped up in their own self-interest, their own image, and their own greed.

Jesus exposed the hypocrisy of the prominent people in the community as well. When he was at the Temple, watching the crowd making their contributions to that vast institution, it was apparent that there were “many rich people” who “put in large sums” (Mk. 12:41). He then contrasted the paltry contribution of a poor widow: she “put in two small copper coins, which are worth a penny” (Mk. 12:42). But Jesus made the point clear: “all of them have contributed out of their abundance; but she out of her poverty has put in everything she had, all she had to live on” (Mk. 12:44).

What may not be obvious on the surface of things is that the Greek phrase that is translated “all she had to live on” could also be rendered as “her whole life.” Perhaps she had reached the place where she had exhausted her own resources, and she was offering herself completely to God, trusting him to care for her needs. The irony is that, from Jesus’ perspective, her gift was more substantial than all the “large sums” the others gave. More than that, she embodied the kind of attitude that Jesus sought from all those who would follow him: that we surrender all that we are and all that we have to God.

The Scriptures and the Christian tradition are consistent on this matter: there is something about wealth that has a way of taking over your heart and life. Jesus said it this way: “you cannot serve God and wealth” (Matt. 6:24). Jesus knew what escapes us so easily: our possessions have a powerful way of “possessing” us. Throughout the ages the antidote to this problem has been to place all we have at the service of God’s kingdom. The traditional term for that attitude toward possessions is “hospitality.” It speaks of a level of generosity that is ready and willing to share all we have with those around us, especially those in need.

While there are lots of practical reasons for giving, I don’t think that’s what Jesus was most concerned about in this setting. It seems to me that he was more concerned with what wealth does to us. From that perspective, giving is a spiritual discipline that enables us to remain fully human in the midst of this world and its goods. Practicing generosity may be the only way for us manage to keep from losing ourselves in our possessions while we live in a world where we have so much wealth. If you wonder whether this may be a problem for you, Richard Foster offers a fairly simple test: select your most cherished possession, and then begin to look for an opportunity to give it away. If that’s doesn’t come easily, I think you’re in good company.

In our society, wealth is not only something we desire, it’s a necessity for retirement! If that’s not difficult enough, our consumer-driven economy makes it almost impossible to avoid the pitfalls of our affluence. If we’re honest I think we all have to admit that we can get quite attached to our “stuff.” And all of this can leave us quite blind to what our wealth does to us and our humanity. The discipline of giving is a means of reminding ourselves that that we are all dependent on God for all of life, just like the widow in our lesson. More than that, we practice the discipline of giving so that we can free ourselves from the fetters of our possessions. And we do that by surrendering all that we have to God.

Energy, Intelligence, Imagination, and Love

Mark 12:28-34[1]

It seems to me that we live in an age when it’s hard to focus on anything for very long. It seems that we always have something clamoring for our attention. Those of us who have “smartphones” may have “dings” or a “beeps” coming at us on a regular basis all day long. When I got my first “smartphone,” it was set to sound off at me for just about everything: email, text messages, calendar reminders, Facebook notifications, and more. It didn’t take too long for me to decide I needed to find out how to turn off most of that noise! Even without the “dings” and “beeps,” we seem to be tethered to a whole web of electronic connections.

But more than that, we all have a wide variety of involvements that constantly claim our focus. Between work, family, social life, civic organizations, exercise routines, financial obligations, church commitments, and others, it can feel like we hardly have a moment in the day when we can catch our breath. So much for the promise that advances in technology would give us more leisure time!^{^[2]} I would say that technology has actually expanded the work week rather than shortening it, as some predicted in the 1960’s and 70’s. We’re accessible 24/7. It can make it difficult to focus on anything spiritual.

In our Gospel lesson, Jesus answers a question that was much debated in his day: “which commandment is the first of all?” The question of the “first commandment” was, of course, the question about which one was the most important. The answer Jesus gave would have been considered fairly conventional: “Hear, O Israel: the Lord our God, the Lord is one; you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind, and with all your strength” (Mk. 12:29-31) That was the shema (Deut. 6:4-5), which devout Jewish people recited every day. That he combined it with a “second” command, “You shall love your neighbor as yourself,” would not have come as a surprise either.

There was widespread agreement that these two commands constituted the essence of what God wanted from his people. But I think then as well as now, the real problem is how to fulfill these two great commandments. I’m not the first person to wonder how we finite human beings can “love” God, the one who is both far beyond all that we can understand and also who is as close to us as the very air we’re breathing. It’s a question that St. Augustine framed over 1600 years ago: “What do I love when I love my God?”^{^[3]} It’s a question that continues to be asked by many who are willing to face the difficulty of living in relationship with the God who made the heavens and the earth. Just how do you have a relationship with a God you can’t see, you can’t touch, with whom you can’t have a regular conversation?

Some insist that we love God by maintaining spiritual practices like prayer, Bible reading, and worship—both publicly and privately. I would agree that maintaining our personal and public spiritual lives is an important component of what it means to love God. But those who have explored this question throughout the ages developed other disciplines as well: welcoming strangers, sharing what we have, helping others, and giving care wherever it’s needed. This echoes a theme that is biblical: we love God when we walk in his ways. I would say that we “walk in God’s ways” when we seek to live out God’s grace, mercy, and love in our own lives. And if we want an example to follow, I think we need look no farther than Jesus. He constantly and consistently lived out God’s grace, mercy and love. He devoted his whole life to loving God and loving others.

Loving God leads us naturally to the “second” commandment: loving others. Scripture says that we cannot love God without loving others (1 John 4:11-12, 19-21). What we may not know is that this “second” command comes from Leviticus 19. In that chapter, the Bible is actually very specific about what it looks like to “love your neighbor as yourself.” It means to refrain from oppressing your workers, cursing the deaf or trying to trip up a blind person; it means that we’re not to show partiality to the rich over the poor, slander anyone, hate another person, take vengeance, or bear a grudge (Lev. 19:13-18)! Of course, there are other Bible passages that spell this out with different specifics, but I think you get the idea. Loving God leads to loving your neighbor in the real ways in which we treat other people on a daily basis.

In these distracted times, it can be difficult to keep our focus on these matters. The push and pull of life constantly drags us away from our primary calling: to love God and to love our neighbors. It’s not always easy to determine what that kind of love looks like in practice. I will say this: if we take it seriously, it will claim all that we are, and call forth the best we can give. Those of us who are ordained officers in the Presbyterian Church take an oath to serve others with “energy, intelligence, imagination, and love.” That’s not a bad way to approach trying to fulfill the two great commands. As we offer all that and more to God, I think we are setting out on a journey of discipleship in which we are constantly learning what it means to love God with all that we are and to love our neighbors as ourselves.

[2] First introduced by Manfred Clynes and Nathan Kline, “Cyborgs and Space,” Astronautics (September 1960): 26-27, 74-76.

[3] Augustine of Hippo, Confessions, 10.6.8.

Thursday, November 01, 2018

Faith in Jesus

Mark 10:46-52[1]

We live in a world in which I think faith is something that can be difficult for many of us. To be sure, there are those among us who have the ability to maintain their faith no matter what this world throws at them. But there are others who may have a more difficult time with faith. There may be a number of reasons for this. Some of us are simply skeptical by nature. When we see or hear something, we tend to question it. Others of us may have experienced too much of the selfishness and dishonesty that can reside in the human heart. That can make it difficult to place our faith in anyone or anything. Still others may simply not know how to choose from all the competing voices out there.

But most of us have someone in whom or something in which we place our faith. We may have friends or family we trust so much that we will tell them our deepest, darkest secrets. Many of us share our lives with another human being—something that’s not always easy or fun to do! We take the risk of faith in those relationships because we are made for companionship. Others among us may have ideas that we believe in. These ideas represent the best of what it means to be human, and they give meaning and purpose to the way we spend our days. Most of us put our faith in something or someone. Without faith, life can be pretty bleak.

In our Gospel lesson for today, we find one of the encounters in which Jesus heals a person who is suffering. The interesting thing about these healings is that when Jesus heals someone, usually with just a simple word, he insists that it is their own faith that does it! He says to them, “your faith has made you well.” But the way he puts it could also be translated, “your faith has saved you.” The faith that healed them and the faith that saved them was one and the same. I think to some extent, the reason their faith did “double duty” was because it was faith in Jesus,

Not everybody put their faith in Jesus, to be sure. The religious leaders of his day whose self-serving hypocrisy he exposed didn’t. They saw him for the threat to their position that he was. And the wealthy aristocrats who were gobbling up all the land into vast estates and enriching themselves at the expense of the common people didn’t put their faith in Jesus. They heard him calling them out for their unbridled greed and the injustice it fostered. The Roman occupation force didn’t put their faith in Jesus. To them he was a mere man who could easily be crushed by the iron rule of Roman military might.

But the common people flocked to him. I wonder what it was about Jesus that inspired their faith: a faith that had a healing and saving quality to it. I wonder what this poor, blind beggar’s faith was in. Perhaps he had faith that “Many are the afflictions of the righteous, but the Lord rescues them from them all” (Ps. 34:19). In that sense, perhaps his faith in Jesus was really faith in God. Did he know enough to understand that Jesus was the one uniquely chosen by God to bring salvation to Israel, and through them to all the families of the earth? I doubt it. Did he have the faith that in Jesus God had definitively entered our experience and had done all that needed to be done to really and truly redeem us all? I doubt that too.

So what called forth this man’s faith in Jesus? Well, for one thing, Jesus didn’t rebuke him and try to silence him like others did. It seems that Jesus was well known for being “approachable.” So I think he must have put his faith in Jesus’ reputation for compassion and mercy. I think Jesus’ vision of the “kingdom of God” must have been a part of it. Jesus proclaimed that vision in his message of the nearness of God, which meant that the wrongs would be righted, those who suffered would be comforted, and the oppressed would find justice. There is a built-in appeal in that message, especially for someone like this poor blind man. To him, Jesus represented his one chance for new life. I think anyone who puts their faith in Jesus to that extent cannot help but experience healing and salvation!

I wonder whether there may have been more to it. For one thing, it’s my impression that most truly “holy” men and women have a certain spiritual presence to them. When you are with them, you sense the presence of God in a way you don’t sense at other times. I think Jesus’ own faith in God must have translated to people experiencing this kind of presence in him. When you read the Gospels for indications of Jesus’ own faith, you find someone who was absolutely committed to God’s will and God’s way, one who when people came to exalt him pointed them back to God, one who so entrusted himself to God that he was willing to lay down even his very life. I think Jesus’ own faith in God inspired the faith of the blind man, and it continues to inspire our faith today.

Like many who have gone before us, we place our faith in Jesus because of his message of a world in which God would bring true justice, peace and freedom. We place our faith in Jesus because he embodied that message through the mercy and compassion he extended to the least and the last and the left out. But I think even more so we put our faith in Jesus because his very presence puts us in touch with the love and the hope and the joy and the life that is at the heart of all things. We place our faith in Jesus because through him we experience the one thing that is truly necessary—a genuine encounter with God. Though our world that can feel very joyless and hopeless, like the blind man on the road to Jericho we recognize our chance for new life that consists of hope and joy through faith in Jesus.

Monday, October 22, 2018

Giving Ourselves Away

Mark 10:35-45[1]

When you look at the way we live our lives these days, it’s hard to dispute the conclusion that we as a people are to a great extent driven by our own self-interest. All around us we can see evidence of the fact that “self” exercises a powerful influence. From the way we spend our money to the choices we make about our time to the challenges of getting along with the others, “self” seems to raise it’s ugly head wherever we look. The simple truth is that we want what we want, and we don’t want anyone to stand in the way of our getting it. We are a people for whom “self” is at the center of much of our lives.

The sad fact about that is that we pursue our own wants and desires because we think that by doing so, we will find fulfillment and meaning in life. But whatever satisfaction we may gain is short-lived. When I was in seminary, I worked as a security officer for a family of billionaires. They had the money to get whatever they wanted, whenever they wanted it. But the individual families within the clan couldn’t stand to even talk to one another. Taking this approach to life misses one of the most fundamental lessons we can learn: our lives are not just about us and getting what we want. They are about much more than that. In particular, they are about serving others by giving ourselves away.

In our Gospel lesson for today, James and John, two of Jesus’ “inner circle” of disciples along with Peter, denied him in their own way with a rather audacious request. They asked Jesus to do for them “whatever we ask of you” (Mk. 10:35)! Now, he had already taught them that if they wanted to follow him they must “deny themselves” (Mk. 8:34) and “lose their lives” for his sake (Mk. 8:35). He had also already taught them that “Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all” (Mk. 9:35). So I think it’s safe to say that their request shows they had missed the point just as much as Peter had when he denied even knowing Jesus.

What they asked of Jesus is truly astounding. They ask for the privilege of sitting at his right and left hand when he came in his “glory.” James and John, like the rest of the disciples, still thought that Jesus had come to restore the glory of David’s kingdom in all its might, wealth, and prestige. Even though Jesus had just warned them again that he was going to be condemned and beaten and killed, they simply could not hear that. That doesn’t happen to the Messiah. In their minds, when the Messiah comes, he ascends to the throne of David, throws off the yoke of their enemies, and reigns forever!

This was no small favor that James and John requested. They expected him to rule over the Kingdom of God forever, and they wanted to be the ones to sit at his side. In other words, they wanted their share of the glory they expected him to receive! To grasp the audacity of this request, we only have to think about all the heroes of the faith that had gone before them: Abraham, Moses, and David, not to mention prophets like Jeremiah. And there were James and John, wanting Jesus to move them to the head of the line so they could share his spotlight. It’s hard to imagine a more selfish request.

In response, Jesus tries again to teach them. He points out how “among the Gentiles those whom they recognize as their rulers lord it over them, and their great ones are tyrants over them” (Mk. 10:42). The way he words this statement implies a critique of power at all levels. On the surface, it’s clear what Jesus thought about the way in which those in power throw their weight around. Beyond that, the phrase “those whom they recognize as their rulers” could be translated more literally “those who seem to rule.” That could simply mean that they’re the ones in charge. But the way Jesus worded that phrase was a strange way to put it if that were all he meant to say. It is likely that he was alluding to a significant theme in the Jewish thought of the day: the rulers of this world only “seem” to rule, because God ultimately rules over them all, and God’s rule has the last word.

I think Jesus was trying to help the disciples see through the external trappings of power and glory for the sham that it is in the light of God’s Kingdom. And so he tells them bluntly: “it shall not be so among you” (Mk. 10:43, RSV)! Once again he tries to break through all their pre-conceived notions of what he had come to do. More than that, he tries to break through their own egos to impress upon them that if they want to follow him, they must be prepared to give themselves away as servants and even “slaves” of all (Mk. 10:44). And to reinforce the lesson, he once again pointed to his own destiny—giving his life on the cross for the sake of us all. Following him would entail no less for them. It would mean giving themselves away for others.

We still seem to be dazzled by power and glory. It appeals to the selfish desires of our egos: to have whatever we want in this life. But that is not the way of following Jesus. The way of following Jesus is the way that leads to a cross. It is the way that leads to becoming the last of all, the way that leads to becoming the servant and even the slave of all. I would say that just about everything within us resists this kind of self-denial. But Jesus not only called us to give ourselves away, he also demonstrated what that looks like by laying down his own life. If we are going to follow Jesus, it means that we will have to give ourselves away. That’s not an easy path. I can guarantee you that if you choose to follow Jesus in this way you will find yourself weary and frustrated and discouraged at some point. But Jesus didn’t promise that following him would be easy. He promised that if we follow him in the path of giving ourselves away for the sake of others, we will truly find life.

Tuesday, October 09, 2018

Pioneer of Salvation

Hebrews 1:1-4; 2:5-12[1]

When you think about what the original pioneers who settled this land went through, it is amazing what they accomplished. I’ve made several cross-country moves in my life. That kind of move is challenging for most of us to consider. But we have the benefit of knowing that we can make the trip in the relative comfort and safety of a car, never too far from fuel and food and a motel to spend the night. The original pioneers had none of that. Those who first blazed the trail westward didn’t even know if they were on the right track. Those who followed the trails after they were reasonably well marked were risking everything when they took the journey. It is truly amazing to think about what they accomplished.

When you consider what motivated the pioneers to make such a journey, I’m sure you would find a variety of answers. Some were looking for the promise of prosperity. Others were just looking for a place to settle and raise a family. Whatever motivated them, I have to wonder whether they knew what they were in for. The stories of the pioneers make it clear that some did not. They were not prepared for the hardships and sacrifices required to carve a livelihood out of the wilderness. It’s hard to imagine that any of them were fully prepared for what lay ahead. But some of them persevered, and they made it possible for others to follow, and to settle this land.

Our scripture lesson from Hebrews for today speaks of Jesus as the “pioneer of our salvation.” It’s a unique way of understanding Jesus. In fact, this theme is only found in the Letter to the Hebrews. I think it likely that has something to do with the context in which the letter was written. Christians faced increasing opposition to their faith. Many were becoming discouraged and losing heart due to the hardships they faced on a constant basis. The Letter to the Hebrews was written to encourage them to persevere in their faith despite the obstacles they lived with.

In that setting, the Scripture speaks of Jesus as the “pioneer of our salvation” (Heb. 2:10). The idea is that Jesus has “blazed the trail” for us to experience salvation. He has opened the way for us to know God in a life-changing way. But Hebrews not only calls Jesus the “pioneer of our salvation.” The Scripture also speaks of him as “pioneer and perfecter of our faith” (Heb. 12:2). The idea is that he not only blazed the trail for us, but he has also completed the journey, and stands as a living example of how we can complete our journey—by following him in single-minded devotion to God’s will and ways.

I find it remarkable that in both settings where the Letter to the Hebrews speaks of Jesus as the pioneer of our faith, suffering plays a significant role. In our lesson for today, the Scripture speaks of Jesus being “perfected” for that task through what he suffered. Specifically, he tasted death for us all in order to open the way for us to God. Again, in the other setting where this theme occurs, those to whom the letter was addressed were encouraged to look to Jesus and what he endured on the cross as encouragement to “run with perseverance the race that is set before us” (Heb. 12:1). And so, as the pioneer of our salvation, Jesus continues to encourage us to finish our pilgrimage of faith—a journey that will last our whole lives.

I’m not sure we realize it, but I would say that we all are like the pioneers in some ways. We, too, are “on the way,” taking the journey of faith. And while we have many examples to follow, each of us has a unique path to take. For most of us, we really have no idea where that path is going to lead us. And none of us can know what hardships or sacrifices we will encounter on the way. I think it’s safe to say, however, that all of us will come to a time in our journey of faith where what we have to endure on the way will leave us discouraged. It’s common to find ourselves, after having worked so hard for so long, to simply grow weary of the journey.

In a very real sense, this not only applies to us as individuals. It also applies to us as a church family. Like most churches these days, we find ourselves trekking into a wilderness of sorts. The landscape in which the church finds itself situated in this culture is one that has changed dramatically, and those who are open enough to be aware of this change find themselves blazing a trail into the future of what the church will become in this strange new world. At this point, I would say that none of us can say where this journey will lead or what the church will look like as we adapt to a new environment along the way.

It’s not easy to be a pioneer. It takes constant commitment to persevere along a difficult path. It’s easy to get discouraged and lose heart along the way. Fortunately, none of us has to make this pilgrimage of faith on our own. Most of us have the encouragement of friends and family as we face the hardships of the journey. We also have the encouragement of the family of faith to help us along. But perhaps more importantly, we can look to Jesus when we lose heart. As the “pioneer of our salvation,” Jesus has marked out the path. As the “perfecter of our faith” he has shown us how to complete the journey, and he continually encourages us as we seek to finish the path. We are not left to make this journey alone. As the “pioneer of salvation,” Jesus leads us to our final destination.

Monday, October 01, 2018

The Stone is Lifted

Mark 9:38-50[1]

I wonder whether we as a people have become immune to scandal. In the days of Watergate, when the Senate hearings were broadcast on TV every day, we were shocked at the abuse of power that went all the way to the top. These days, it seems we have lost our ability to be shocked. We have grown so cynical about power and those who use it or abuse it, that we almost expect anyone in such a position to be caught in a scandal at some point. I might go even farther, and venture the opinion that many of us don’t care about scandals any more. We’ve heard so much about Iran-gate and Nanny-gate and Whitewater-gate that our eyes glaze over and we tune out at the very mention of another scandal.

Perhaps I should amend that opinion to say that we don’t care about the scandals that apply to the people we support. We pay plenty of attention to the abuses of power on the part of those we see as the “bad guys.” But if someone is on our “good guy” list, we will suspend judgment and give them the benefit of the doubt over and over again. As a fan of world class cycling, I myself didn’t want to believe the accusations that Lance Armstrong was using performance-enhancing drugs to win an unprecedented 7 consecutive titles in the Tour de France. That is, until he publicly admitted that he had done so and was stripped of his titles and awards.

In our Gospel lesson for today, Jesus talks about what happens when we abuse our power to take advantage of others. It might not seem obvious at first glance, because this is one of the most difficult passages in Mark’s Gospel. It talks about stumbling blocks and self-mutilation and being thrown into hell and being “salted with fire.” And the combination is confusing to the best of us and difficult to sort out. But the central concept in this passage has to do with “stumbling,” either causing someone else to do so, or stumbling ourselves. The Greek word is to “scandalize,” but the meaning is different from our understanding of a scandal. It’s talking about causing others to sin, or falling into sin ourselves.

I think in order to understand any of this, we have to have a clear perspective on the biblical concept of sin. While many religions have identified sexual outcasts as the chief of sinners, the Bible points instead to the “wicked” ones who abuse their power to take advantage of others. As some have put it, the Bible is more concerned about what happens in the boardroom than what happens in the bedroom. Jesus followed this pattern by saving his harshest criticism for those promoted injustice, those who diminished the lives of the least and the lowest in society. And, sad to say, typically those who were guilty of this kind of behavior were the “leaders,” both religious and political.

In our Gospel lesson, Jesus says that “it would be better for you if a great millstone were hung around your neck and you were thrown into the sea” than to “put a stumbling block before one of these little ones who believe in me” (Mark 9:42). I think you would have to say that Jesus was serious about confronting those who used their power to take advantage of others. And to emphasize the point, he follows this up by saying that if your hand or your foot or your eye causes you to take oppress someone in this way, you would be better off simply removing that part of your body! Now, Jesus knew that “sin” isn’t located in any particular body part. He was exaggerating to make a point: spare no effort to avoid the selfishness, the unbridled greed, and the total lack of concern for the welfare of others that leads to this kind of abuse.

Unfortunately, we are surrounded by the monuments memorializing the fact that our society has had its fair share of “captains of industry” who made a fortune and rose to power on the backs of thousands who labored in poverty. Names like Carnegie, Mellon, Rockefeller, Hearst, and Vanderbilt can be found on buildings all over the country as testaments to their “generosity.” But I doubt that the people who had to endure harmful working conditions, substandard housing, and malnutrition would have seen them in that light. The simple truth is that they used their power to enrich themselves by taking advantage of others.

It’s easy to look back and point out those who have abused their power in the past. It may be harder to recognize that we have tycoons today who are enriching themselves by taking advantage of others. But even more difficult is the realization that all of us have diminished another person at some time in our lives. And we’ve felt the weight of our misdeeds like a heavy stone around our necks. I think that’s why Jesus said it’s better to be drowned in the sea than to carry the burden of knowingly taking advantage of another human being. It’s a burden that can be crushing to bear for those of us with a conscience.

It’s also easy to point an accusing finger at “others” as the culprits in the predicament we find ourselves with our fellow human beings. But Jesus didn’t come to bring release to the oppressed and heap vengeance on the oppressors. Injustice of any kind oppresses both those who have to endure it and those who perpetrate it. Jesus came “to free the oppressors and the oppressed” from the burden of injustice.^{^[2]} When we allow the weight and the “fire” of our guilt to cleanse our hearts, we find freedom from the need to take advantage of others. Then the stone of injustice is lifted from us all.

[2] Cf. Jürgen Moltmann, The Crucified God, 307.

Last of All

Mark 9:30-37[1]

We don’t much like not being first. For most of us, there seems to be some situation or other where not being first gets under our skin. And we certainly don’t like being last. That can be downright humiliating. It’s embarrassing. We associate being last with “losing,” and most of us don’t like to lose at anything. Some of us really don’t like losing! We associate being last with being worst, and that really gets under our skin. In the right settings, the ones that really push our buttons, being last can seem like a threat to our very sense of self. That kind of threat to our well-being is something that many of us will actually fight to avoid. Being last of all is a bitter pill to swallow for most of us.

I think one reason for this is we are such a success-oriented people. The very idea of being last just doesn’t make sense to us. We assume that those who are last in this world got there because they never really tried hard enough. By contrast, most of us spend our whole lives trying to be first and best. We’re a “go big or go home” kind of people. It feels powerless to be last, and we don’t like feeling powerless. It strips us of our self-worth. It generates shame, which is more intense than guilt. Shame is the feeling there is something wrong with us at a basic level. It calls into question our very existence. Being last equates in our minds to the feeling that we’re just not good enough.

Our Gospel lesson for today brings together several episodes that may not seem to go together. It begins with Jesus, whom Peter has already confessed to be the Messiah, telling the disciples that he is going to be killed. In their minds, Messiahs don’t get killed; they conquer and liberate their people from their oppressors. The idea of a Messiah being killed simply made no sense to them. Messiah’s don’t get killed; they usher in the Kingdom of God on earth. I think when the Scripture says, “they did not understand what he was saying” (Mk. 9:32), it may be an understatement!

Hence the fact that in Mark’s Gospel, right after Jesus gives his disciples this somber news, they are engaged in an argument about “who was the greatest” (Mk. 9:34). In this context, the Scripture doesn’t specify the greatest at what. It simply says they were arguing about who was the greatest. Set alongside Jesus’ prediction of his impending death, that in and of itself seems odd. Matthew’s Gospel brings the disparity into sharper focus: there they asked Jesus outright, “Who is the greatest in the Kingdom of God?” (Matt. 18:1). It seems clearly implied that they thought the “greatest” had to be one of them! More than that, it illustrates their total lack of understand about what Jesus was trying to accomplish.

Jesus’ answer to them makes it clear that they had missed one of the most important lessons he tried to teach them: “Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all” (Mark 9:35). And to emphasize the point, Jesus seeks to correct his disciples’ misguided ambition by embracing a child, and saying, “Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes not me but the one who sent me” (Mark 9:37). We might see that as a “cute” or “warm and fuzzy” experience, because that’s the way we see children. But for most of human history children have been seen as having no value in society. They were simply mouths to feed and were put to work as soon as possible. They were the least and the last of all in that day.

But Jesus not only said to embrace the children—who represented the least and the last of all. In Matthew’s Gospel, he told his disciples they had to become like children in order to enter the Kingdom of God (Matt. 18:3). Again, we make this “sugary sweet” by thinking he’s talking about the trusting nature of a child. But the disciples would have not found the idea of becoming like the child very inviting. The role of a child was one that was precarious in the ancient world. A child was someone to whom an adult could do just about anything and get away with it. They had no recourse, because they had no legal rights. They were the most vulnerable, the weakest, the lowest, and the last of all in the world of Jesus’ day.

In holding out children as an example for his disciples to follow, I think he was saying the same thing he had tried to teach them in many ways. I think he was telling them that if they wanted to follow him they had to become the least, the lowest, and the last of all. That’s about as contrary to our way of life as you can get. We praise ambition and we honor those who are “winners” and those who are first. These attitudes are woven into the very fabric of the way we live our lives. But while we spend our efforts seeking to be “on top,” the “best,” and first of all, Jesus calls us to a very different path.

Jesus calls us to a path of self-sacrifice, a path of making ourselves vulnerable, a path of giving up the ambitions that call to us from this world. Instead of pushing and shoving our way into first place, Jesus calls us to a path of taking last place. It’s a path that not only leads us to care for those who are most vulnerable in society. It also leads us to take our place alongside the weakest, the lowest, and the last of all. Although it goes against the grain of everything that is instilled in us from childhood, that is the path Jesus calls us to walk if we would follow him. It’s a path that leads us to give up striving to be first and best, and instead take our place with him as servant of all, and last of all.

Words of Life

The Words of Life

John 6:58-69[1]

These days, most of us have someone whose words we tend to take to heart. Whether it’s Sean Hannity or Rachel Maddow, or someone in between, we all have a spokesperson whose voice carries more weight than anyone else’s. I suppose that’s always been true—whether it was a parent or a teacher or a pastor. For many of us, Walter Cronkite was the voice of truth. For many of his almost 20 years as the CBS news anchor, he was known as “the most trusted man in America.” His candid reporting style was summed up best by his signature sign-off, “And that’s the way it is.” If Walter Cronkite said it, people tended to believe it.

While we may not be used to thinking of our final prophet in those terms, I think it’s fitting to conclude our series with Jesus of Nazareth. While we believe he was more than a prophet, he was certainly not less than a prophet. He spoke God’s truth to the people of his day in a way that turned their world upside down and captured the hearts and minds of many who followed him. To be sure, there were many, perhaps the majority, who rejected him and his teachings. But for those who had ears to hear his message, it changed their lives for good. Jesus delivered a message that was at times shocking, and at times comforting. But in every way, Jesus’ prophetic ministry powerfully impacted people’s lives. And his words still have the power to change lives today.

In our Gospel lesson for today, we step into an episode from Jesus’ life that marked a significant turning point in his ministry. After an amazing event in which he fed a huge crowd that was following him, many of them tracked him across the Sea of Galilee to hear and see more of what Jesus might do. When he challenged them, they asked what they must do. His answer was to believe, and in what seems like typical fashion for them, they asked him to produce a “sign” to convince them. They even suggested one: more food! They asked him to reproduce the miracle of the manna in the wilderness. But Jesus was always wary of faith that depended on proof.

Instead he called them to simply believe in him and in his words. In fact, he went beyond that and claimed to be the true “bread from heaven.” He told them, “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty” (Jn. 6:35). They had all kinds of problems with that. They argued that he came from Nazareth; therefore claiming to be the “bread from heaven” offended them. He said that only those who ate this true “bread from heaven” would live forever. They responded to his implication that they were to literally eat his flesh with disgust. And as a result, John’s Gospel tells us that “many of his disciples turned back” (Jn. 6:66).

Of course, the truth was that Jesus was not calling his disciples to literally eat his flesh. He made that clear when he said, “It is the spirit that gives life; the flesh is useless. The words that I have spoken to you are spirit and life” (Jn. 6:63). What Jesus was looking for was a kind of faith that would hear his words as “words of life.” He was looking for disciples who would hear his words so well that they would transform the way they lived their lives. And in the process, they would find the power of his words giving them a whole new kind of life.

What we may not expect to hear about this is that it wasn’t entirely unheard of. The prophets Jeremiah and Ezekiel both called the Jewish people receive a “new heart” that would bring about a fresh commitment to God. In John’s Gospel, Jesus says time and again that what he did and said was only what came from “the Father.” When he broke the Jewish traditions of keeping the Sabbath to heal a paralyzed man, he said, “I seek to do not my own will but the will of him who sent me” (Jn. 5:30). When the Jewish leaders came right out and asked him who he thought we was, Jesus replied, “When you have lifted up the Son of Man, then you will realize that I am he, and that I do nothing on my own, but I speak these things as the Father instructed me” (Jn. 8:28). Jesus’ teachings were “the words of life” because they came from God.

At the end of the episode in our Gospel reading, after the Scripture says that many turned back and followed him no longer, Jesus put the question to the twelve. He asked them straight out, “Do you also wish to go away?” (Jn. 6:67). I find it interesting that it is Peter who answers for them: “Lord, to whom can we go? You have the words of eternal life” (Jn. 6:68). Peter, who would deny even knowing Jesus, and then return to feed his sheep, is the one who acknowledges the life-changing power of Jesus’ words: “you have the words of eternal life.”

In our day, I think if you asked people whether Jesus spoke for God, you would find many people answering, “Yes.” But it’s one thing to acknowledge Jesus as a prophet who speaks life-giving words. It’s another thing altogether to have the ears to hear those words in such a way that we take them to heart. It’s another thing yet to put Jesus’ words into practice in our daily lives so that we actually experience the new life they are meant to give us. Many throughout the ages have admired Jesus as a teacher of great truth. Many have even made the effort to study Jesus’ teachings in order to better understand them. But Jesus calls us to something more. He calls us to make his teachings so much a part of our lives that it changes the way we live from the inside out. Then we too will know in a practical way that Jesus’ words are the words of life.

Too Small a Thing

Isaiah 49:1-6[1]

Lately we’ve heard a lot of dialogue about “privilege.” I think we as a people have always had to deal with the fact that there are some who seem to have advantages that others don’t. There was a time when it was commonly assumed that privilege was earned and deserved, and that those who lacked privilege had only themselves to blame. Maybe some still hold that view. These days much of the talk has shifted to a critical view of privilege. Those who have privilege have an unfair advantage. They may have gained that advantage by questionable means. And anyone with privilege is certainly suspect for the simple fact of having it.

While it’s true that there are plenty of people out there taking unfair advantage of others, I think our current conversation is too shallow. It fails to take into account the fact that many who have privileges or advantages use them in the service of others. That was the sentiment behind President Kennedy’s statement, “Those to whom much is given, much is required.” And, of course the original form of this was spoken by Jesus: “From everyone to whom much has been given, much will be required” (Lk. 12:48). It’s an approach to privilege that seems to have been overlooked in our current setting—both in the way some talk about privilege, and in the way some approach their own privileges.

The prophet Isaiah addressed the issue of privilege among the Jewish people. From the days of Moses, they had a strong sense of being a “peculiar people,” a nation chosen and blessed by God. But as the prophets make clear, the Jewish people had turned that blessing into a right they saw as theirs. They thought that blessing would spare them from all harm, even from suffering the consequences of their disobedience to God. They saw the privilege of being God’s “chosen people” as an advantage they had a right to claim for themselves.

But Isaiah reminded them that the purpose of their calling in the first place was not simply their own privilege, but so that they might be a “light to the nations” (Isaiah 49:6). This theme goes back to the days of the Exodus, when Moses had said that they would be a “priestly kingdom and a holy nation” (Exodus 19:6), a whole nation of people who would speak for God and represent God’s saving purposes in the world. It goes back even beyond that to the days when Abraham lived in Ur of the Chaldees, and God called him to leave for a place “to be determined”! The purpose was to make Abraham a blessing to all people: “in you all the families of the earth shall be blessed” (Genesis 12:3).

Somewhere along the way, however, that outlook got lost. But the Jewish people weren’t the only ones to take that path. The church throughout the ages has made the very same mistake. Like the Jewish people of old, Kings and popes and preachers of all kinds have mistaken God’s blessing for a privilege they had a right to claim. And they have believed this privilege gives them a claim to advantages like power, wealth, and influence that is theirs by right.

But the God whom Isaiah called his people to worship is “the everlasting God, the creator of the ends of the earth” (Isaiah 40:28), the one who “sits above the circle of the earth” and “stretches out the heavens like a curtain” (40:22). The God who called them and us to serve as light to the world is the one who said, “I made the earth, and created humankind upon it; it was my hands that stretched out the heavens, and I commanded all their host” (Isaiah 45:12). I think the point is to place the calling of a particular people as the “chosen ones” in the proper context. As Isaiah said so long ago, to view their privilege as something that belongs to them alone is “too small a thing” for the God who is in the process of renewing all creation.

When we walk down that path, we not only make our God too small, we abandon the very lifeblood of the church—our calling to carry out the same task as God’s “servant” of whom Isaiah spoke so long ago. Like God’s “servant” we are called to serve, not to be served. Like God’s “servant” we are called to bring God’s grace, mercy, and love to those who have been written off: to the least and the last and the left out. It’s an approach to “privilege” that sets aside a self-serving attitude and sees God’s blessing as a calling to serve others.

It’s an approach to privilege that recognizes that “From everyone to whom much has been given, much will be required.” It says to the hungry “here’s food,” and to the stranger, “you’re welcome here.” It’s a point of view that says to those who are thirsty, “here’s water,” and to those who are homeless, “here’s shelter.” It seeks to set free all those who are captives and to bring comfort to those who are suffering in any way. It’s a standpoint that helps those in poverty to find a better life. It’s an attitude that views privilege as a means of helping others.

The point of God’s blessing on a special people was never to bestow upon them a privilege they could use to their own advantage. Rather it has always been a calling to serve others. It is not about claiming rights we think belong to us, but transforming this world into “the kind of world God had in mind when He created it.”^{^[2]} Anything less than that is “too small a thing” for the God and Father of our Lord and Savior Jesus the Christ who is working through the Spirit of life to make all things new! And it’s “too small a thing” for us as well.

[2] Harold Kushner, To Life!; accessed at http://www.spiritualityandpractice.com/ practices/practices.php?id=30&g=1.

The Waking Dreamer