The Waking Dreamer: Discipleship

Showing posts with label Discipleship. Show all posts

Saturday, August 08, 2026

Let It Begin With Me

Matthew 14:13-21[1]

Another slogan from the Twelve Step movement is “Let It Begin With Me.” In fact, it comes from what is known as the “Al-Anon Declaration”: “Let it begin with me. When anyone, anywhere, reaches out for help, let the hand of Al-Anon and Al-Ateen always be there, and let it begin with me.” Many Al-Anon and Al-Ateen meetings either open or close with this declaration. It’s a constant reminder that Al-Anon and Al-Ateen exist to help the families and friends of people who misuse alcohol and other substances. Their sole purpose is to provide a helping hand to those who suffer because a friend or a loved one is an alcoholic. I can tell you from personal experience that many people come to their first meeting and spend the whole hour sobbing because they are hurting so badly, their lives feel completely out of control, and they are terrified of what tomorrow will bring.

“Let it begin with me” is a call to action. It’s a reminder that we each bear responsibility for our choices and actions. If we want to see changes, we have to be the ones to make changes in our lives. That doesn’t guarantee we’ll get the outcomes we want. Most people come to Al-Anon hoping that the changes they make will change their friend or loved one so that they no longer misuse alcohol or drugs. Sometimes that happens, but mostly it doesn’t. What taking responsibility for our own choices and actions does guarantee is that we’ll learn to face life in a healthier way. This mindset applies not only to families and friends of alcoholics and those who struggle with other addictions. We all share in the brokenness of the human family. And when we find ourselves at the point of feeling overwhelmed, perhaps feeling like our lives are completely out of control and fearing what tomorrow will bring, we are right in the middle of the brokenness that everyone in this world shares.

Unfortunately, most of us don’t respond to being in that place very positively. Our first instinct is to blame someone else. If I’m hurting, someone else must be at fault. That approach might be characterized by the slogan, “it has to begin with you.” We look at our pain, we find someone to blame for it, and we put the responsibility for our happiness in their hands. If we’re going to get better, they have to change. Of course, that places all the power for our wellbeing in the hands of someone else. “Let it begin with me” takes the opposite approach. If I’m hurting, it’s my pain. I’m responsible for my feelings and what I do about them. I’m the only one who holds the key to my happiness in life. Nobody can “make” me happy by what they do or don’t do. If I want things to change in my life, I’m the one who has to make the changes.

I think there’s a part of our Gospel lesson for today that relates to this line of thinking. I didn’t really plan these sermons on the Al-Anon slogans. As I read the Scriptures each week, it just developed that way. And that applies to our Gospel lesson for this week. When it comes to our Christian lives, we’re wise to recognize that there’s much about this world that is bigger than we can control. Only God can handle those things. But we can control our choices. In our Gospel lesson, Jesus has been teaching a huge crowd: 5000 men, not counting women and children. And at the end of the day, when it was time to eat, they were all a long way from any place where they could find food. The disciples’ suggestion that Jesus dismiss the crowd so they could find food in the surrounding towns and villages wasn’t very practical. It’s doubtful there was enough food in the surrounding area to feed such a crowd. They were just trying to “pass the buck” and get rid of the problem!

Jesus ignores their suggestion. Instead, he tells them, “You give them something to eat” (Matt. 14:16)! The disciples responded as you might think: they asked how they could possibly feed such a huge crowd with the little food they had with them. But I think Jesus may have been trying to teach them something. They had seen him work miracles that amazed them. But in one sense they’d become spectators, watching what Jesus was going to do instead of taking an active role in God’s Kingdom, as he called them to. I think Jesus used this setting to challenge them to step out of their spectator role and to take a more active stance with their commitment to follow him.

The story that follows is intriguing, because although it’s the only miracle of Jesus recounted by all four Gospels, there’s no mention how Jesus was able to feed such a massive crowd with five loaves and two fish! Some have suggested that the example of generosity inspired those in the crowd to share their food with others. We don’t know that. Popular movies have depicted it as an instantaneous miracle—Jesus lifts the food in a basket to bless it, and when he brings it down the basket is overflowing with loaves and fishes. But we don’t know that either. We really don’t know and may never be able to explain how Jesus multiplied the loaves and fish. At the end of the day, all that we really know about this miracle is that Jesus gave the loaves to the disciples, and the disciples gave them to the crowds, and everyone had enough to eat and more!

It leaves me wondering if it could be that it was in the act of the disciples being willing to step out of the relative comfort of a spectator role and taking a more active role in the work of the Kingdom that the miracle occurred. We still don’t know that for sure, but it does seem significant that Jesus instructed the disciples who wanted to send everybody away to serve their food to the hungry crowds. And perhaps the miracle happened somehow in the giving. By moving from spectators to taking an active role, the disciples became channels for God to do his miraculous work. Perhaps one of the lessons is that true miracles happen in ways we may never be able to explain.

We’ll probably never know for sure exactly what happened that day by the Sea of Galilee. But I think we can know that when we stay comfortably on the sidelines, adopting the role of a spectator, not much is ever going to happen. When we get stuck in our fears that there’s not enough or perhaps what we have to give isn’t good enough, all there will ever be is a bunch of hungry people. We have to take an active role in serving others if we want to follow Jesus. I think this is where the wisdom of the Twelve-Step slogan, “Let It Begin With Me,” can help us. Instead of looking at all that’s wrong in the world and trying to find whom we can blame, when we “let it begin with me,” we step up and do what we can do. As the Scriptures illustrate, when do so, even the little that we have to give can become more than enough. There is much about God’s work in this world that’s bigger than us. But there are things we can all do right where we are. I think that’s part of what Jesus wants us to learn from this miracle: when we step up and do what we can do, God takes what we have to offer and uses it to do more than we can imagine!

Saturday, July 18, 2026

One Day at a Time

Romans 8:1-11; Matthew 13:1-9[1]

Last week we talked about the Twelve-Step slogan, “Let Go and let God.” Another familiar slogan from the Twelve-Step movement is “One Day at a Time.” It’s one of the tools that people who are trying to live in a healthy way use to deal with “bad” days. Because the truth is whether you’ve been practicing “recovery” for decades or for days, everybody has “bad” days. The idea behind the slogan “One Day at a Time” is that, even on the worst of your “bad” days, you can handle whatever comes your way for one day. To be sure, there are days when it all seems too much to handle. But usually, that’s because we’re viewing our problems from the perspective that they’ll never change. It’ll always be this way. When you think you’re going to have to deal with your problems for the rest of your life, it can become overwhelming. But when you frame it as something you just have to handle today, it usually gets more manageable.

There’s another point to the slogan “One Day at a Time.” It’s related to the fact that we’ll never perfectly fulfill our goals in this lifetime. But if we keep our focus on doing the best we can today, we may wind up pleasantly surprised with how well we do. And after a while of doing our best “One Day at a Time,” we usually realize we’ve made a whole lot more progress than we could have imagined when we first started out. I think those of us who take living the Christian life seriously have a similar experience. There are wonderful times when we know the joy and peace and freedom we have from God through Jesus Christ. And then there are other days when the way we practice the Christian life can best be summed up by the phrase, “three steps forward, two steps back”!

I think we see some of this reflected in our lesson from Paul’s letter to the Romans for today. There, Paul emphasizes that the Holy Spirit poured out on us is the one who makes it possible for us to experience this new life of joy and peace and freedom right now. And when you pay close attention to what Paul says, it sounds very much like he is promising that we already have the fullness of salvation, right now. That’s because everything necessary for us to experience the fullness of joy and peace and freedom in this life has already been done for us by God in Jesus Christ. And it’s also because of what God is doing in our lives through the Spirit right now, to this very day. Paul puts it this way: because the Spirit of the one “who raised Jesus from the dead” lives in us, that means God is also working to give us a new life like the one Jesus has now in the presence of God (Rom 8:10-11, NIRV).

That’s quite a promise. We can have a life like the one Jesus has in the presence of God right now because of what God is doing in our lives through the Spirit. And I would absolutely affirm that’s a true statement: we can have a life like the one Jesus has in the presence of God right now because of what God is doing in our lives through the Spirit! But the other side of the truth is the fact that we never experience the fullness of the life of the risen Lord Christ in this life. We do experience joy and peace and freedom as a gift from God in Jesus Christ through the Holy Spirit. Theologically speaking, we already have everything we need to know this new life now. But practically speaking, our experience (and the teachings of Scripture) remind us that we will not know that new life fully until we are standing face to face with him. In the meantime, we live our Christian lives in the tension between the promise of new life now and the full experience of it when we stand face-to-face with Jesus.[2]

I would say that our Gospel lesson for today also addresses this question, but from a different perspective. The parable is a familiar one. A farmer goes out to plant seeds in a field. In those days, planting seeds was much less precise and involved perhaps even more risk (if that’s possible!). Farmers would just scatter seeds, hoping some of them would take root and grow and bear fruit. Of course, Jesus wasn’t really talking about agriculture in this parable. Among other things, he was trying to warn those who want to follow him that not all the seeds they planted would bear fruit. Faithfulness doesn’t always guarantee results. Sometimes we find ourselves sowing and not reaping.

But there’s a deeper issue here, one that goes beyond the typical observation that the seeds need the right “kind” of soil in which to bear fruit. That kind of thinking leads many Christians to wonder which kind of “soil” they belong to and even to doubt whether they’ve “done enough” to bear fruit in their lives. Or it leads to a too easy assumption that because we’re in church we’re automatically in the “good soil” category. But something that the famous Swiss Reformed Theologian Karl Barth pointed out is that in this parable, the farmer isn’t planting four fields. The farmer is planting seeds in one field.[3] Therefore, he suggests that we must reckon with the truth that we all—including those who are within the Christian community and those who are not—are among “those who hear” the “Word” of the gospel. That means there is always a mixture of “ignoring” the “Word” that fails to put it into action on the one hand, and on the other hand responding to the “Word” with “understanding” that leads to fruitful Christian living.[4] And that mixture of “ignoring” and “responding” to the “Word” is in all of us.[5] We all respond to the gospel in all these ways outlined in the parable in differing measures.

That brings us back to where we started. We all have good days and bad days when it comes to the Christian life. There are times when our experience of can best be summarized as “three steps forward, two steps back.” That brings us back to “One Day at a Time.” I think the slogan applies to our Christian living as much as it does to the recovery movement. We do our best “One Day at a Time” to respond faithfully to the promises of God’s word and the demands that go along with them. We do our best “One Day at a Time” to live fruitful lives as followers of Jesus Christ. That doesn’t mean that we have to wonder every day whether we’re doing it “good enough.” But it also means that a faithful response to Jesus Christ can never be something that we do once and then we sit back and think we’ve done all we have to do.

We live our Christian lives “One day at a time.” Sometimes we respond to the Word of the Lord like the hard path: it just “bounces off.” Sometimes we respond like the rocky soil: initially, we’re enthusiastic, but the Word never really takes root. Sometimes we respond like the thorny ground: we respond to the Gospel but the other things in our lives that distract us choke it out. Sometimes we respond to the Word of the Lord in a way that bears fruit in our lives and in the lives of those around us. This is true for all of us. That doesn’t mean that we get discouraged because we don’t always get it right. We live our Christian lives in hope: the hope that the light that shines in this world through the love of God in Jesus Christ will always be more powerful than the darkness in this world that we all participate in and at times may even contribute to![6] Despite any apparent success or failure, we keep on following Jesus “One Day at a Time,” not because we put our confidence in ourselves, but because we trust in God to fulfill his promises to us. And somehow, someway, God always turns our imperfect faith into fruit that benefits not only the Christian community but also all those with whom we share God’s love.

[2] Karl Barth, The Epistle to the Romans, 105, calls the hope of new life that Paul holds out in Romans as the “impossible possibility of our redemption.” Later in Romans 8:23 Paul talks about “groaning” for the full experience of new life.

[3] Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics, 4.3.1:189. I realize that the “interpretation” of the parable of the Sower in Matthew 13:18-23 encourages the idea that the different “types” of soil represent different “types” of people who hear the Gospel and respond in different ways. I would agree with the view that this so-called “interpretation” reflects the views of the early Church as much as and perhaps even more than they represent the views of Jesus. It is perhaps a very early understanding of Jesus’ parable, but not necessarily the only “authoritative” one. I think Barth’s interpretation, which is based more on the primary parable itself, reflects insights into how the early Church transformed into “Christendom” and how the original parable challenges the sense of entitlement and exceptionalism that arose from that transformation.

[4] Barth summarizes this dilemma well when he says that we all alike “both those who know and those who do not know” (ibid., 192).

[5] Cf. Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics, 4.3.1:188-93, where he interprets the parable of the sower through the perspective that it describes the “antithesis” in which we all live out the Christian life: “the light of life shines in the darkness.” That is always true whenever the light of the gospel shines: it shines in darkness. And we are still a part of that darkness.

[6] Cf. Henri Nouwen, The Wounded Healer, 76, where he says that this hope is the true motivation for Christian leadership. I would say it is also the true motivation for Christian living in general. It is the hope that enables us to “keep pointing to new life even in the face of corruption and death” and that what God has done for us through Jesus Christ, especially in raising him from the dead, is a definitive affirmation that there is “light on the other side of darkness.” I would say it also points us to the hope that this “light” in the world will always and inevitably overcome the “darkness.”

Sunday, September 21, 2025

Not Too Difficult?

Luke 14:25-35[1]

Like many of you, I do love a challenge. I’ve recently decided to start taking guitar lessons again. I took them 20 years ago, and learned to play guitar solos from classic rock songs and chord melodies from Jazz standards. Over 20 years, you can forget a lot. It’s a bit humbling to start over again, but that’s life. I’ve tried to keep up on my own, but you just learn more, and more quickly, when you have a teacher you have to meet with on a regular basis. I’ve always been that way about loving a challenge. I took all the “hardest” professors in college, just to prove to myself I could. I’ve tried to read the books that have been considered “difficult.” And in the middle of working on my PhD dissertation, I took my family to Germany for a year of study abroad. One of the reasons I did that is because one of my professors encouraged me to do so. He believed I would be up for the challenge. Some, perhaps many, might call taking a wife and two small children overseas “crazy” rather than stepping up to a challenge. But for me, it made a significant difference in my ability to step outside the box I had been living in when I was working in the Baptist world. I don’t regret that, and I don’t think I’ll ever regret rising to a challenge.

In our Scripture lesson from Deuteronomy for today, Moses encourages the people of Israel that the challenge of obeying God’s commands and following God’s ways was not “too difficult” for them. Rather, he urged them to follow the inclinations of their hearts. He believed that if they only followed the voice inside that was telling them what was right, they would be able to live up to the challenge he presented to them. Unfortunately, the history of the people of Israel demonstrates that it’s not quite that simple. Because along with the voice of conscience telling us what is right to do, we all have other voices. Especially the voice that tells us to do whatever we please. It’s a voice that tells us to take the easy way out and just avoid having to do what’s difficult. Then Jesus came along and did the most difficult thing. He gave up his life in obedience to God’s will, and then he called us to follow him in that same path! I’m not sure we always fully appreciate just how difficult that is for us to do in our daily lives.

I think our Gospel lesson from Luke illustrates that difficulty. The call to follow Jesus is one that demands that we shape our whole identity based on the kingdom of God. It’s a call to a way of life that defines all of life. Of course, none of us starts out there in our faith journey. Most of us start out simply hoping to have a better life here, and in the afterlife a home in heaven. But Jesus spoke about something more: about the kingdom of God that is in the process of changing all things and all people here and now. Most of us don’t start out with that in mind. If we continue to seek God’s kingdom, however, we will have to face a call that claims our whole lives, just like it did Jesus’ life.

One of the reasons why this can be difficult for us is because we don’t have to face the likelihood that following Christ will mean the loss of family ties, being cast out of our circle of friends, or even being stripped of the means of making a livelihood. We celebrate the fact that in this country we’re free to embrace our faith without suffering the hardships that many people have suffered for Christ throughout history, and many others still suffer to this day. It’s good to have the freedom to worship according to our conscience. But I think it makes it harder for us to appreciate how difficult it is to follow as our “Savior” and our “Lord” one who suffered a humiliating death.

I believe our Gospel lesson for today places this question front and center. In fact, it’s hard to avoid when you read this passage and really listen to it. It’s one of the hardest things Jesus ever said. Some of what Jesus says here about what it means to follow him can sound pretty harsh to us. Because of the difficulty of this passage, it’s easy to miss the “forest” for the “trees.” I think the point is that Jesus is calling us to shape our whole identity, from the roots up, around our commitment to following him and to seeking God’s kingdom. It’s a call to a way of life that defines all of life. And that means being willing to “leave everything behind,” at least to let go of it in our hearts.

Right off the bat we hear the challenge: Jesus says, “Whoever comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, and even life itself, cannot be my disciple” (Lk 14:26)! Cannot be my disciple! It’s just plain jarring to hear. As is often the case with difficult passages of Scripture, we have to look elsewhere to gain the proper perspective. I don’t believe that Jesus wanted anyone to literally “hate” their families, or that he wanted anyone to literally “hate” themselves. But I would say that we have plenty of evidence that the Christians for whom Luke’s Gospel was intended actually went through this kind of thing. Their choice to follow Jesus literally put them at odds with their families. Their choice to follow Jesus meant they had to leave everything behind.[2]

Jesus follows this up with another hard demand, “Whoever does not carry the cross and follow me cannot be my disciple” (Lk 14:27). For us, the cross is a symbol of our faith. We decorate it with flowers and make jewelry out of it. But no one in the First Century would have made jewelry out of a cross. It would make about as much sense as making jewelry out of a hangman’s noose. There was nothing “pretty” about the cross in the First Century. We’re familiar with the sentiment of “taking up our cross,” because Jesus had earlier called those who would follow him to “deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me” (Lk 9:23). I’m just not sure we understand what it means for us to take up our cross. After telling them that his path of seeking God’s kingdom was going to lead him to die on the cross, he called them to follow a similar path. He called them to “take up your cross daily.” Again, I think this brings us back to what it will cost us to follow Jesus: our very lives, and more than that, all of life.

Perhaps even more difficult for us is that Jesus sums up what it means to follow him by saying, “none of you can become my disciple if you do not give up all your possessions” (Lk 14:33). This is not so much offensive as it seems downright impossible. Who can afford to give up everything they own? But perhaps the idea here is broader than just our “possessions.” Some translations say, “none of you can be my disciple unless you give up everything you have” (GNT). That’s the way older versions translated this passage. I think it’s more to the point: Jesus calls us to leave everything behind just as he did the first Apostles (Lk 5:11, 18). I think that means holding everything we have “loosely,” recognizing that it belongs to God anyway, and holding it with the freedom of offering it all back to God to use however he pleases. Jesus calls us to a way of life that defines all of life. And that means letting go of everything else. We may still “have” it, but we don’t “hold” it so tightly. It doesn’t define us.

I don’t believe that Jesus wanted anyone to literally “hate” their families or themselves. That makes no sense! I also don’t believe Jesus expected everyone who follows him to literally become a martyr for their faith, although many have done so. I believe that Jesus made the shocking statements in this passage to make clear that the kind of demands it would take for people to follow him would claim their whole lives. He was calling people to shape their whole identity based on the way of living he demonstrated for them. And he said that it was nothing short of leaving everything behind for the sake of the kingdom of God. And he used the shocking language of this passage to impress upon all who would follow him how difficult it would be to actually do that.

Jesus calls us to a way of life that defines all of life. And here we learn that “leaving everything behind” to follow Jesus applies not just to the first disciples, but to us all. That’s difficult for us to hear. We begin our faith journey hoping that it will make for a better life for us. When we hear something like this it may sound like Jesus is taking all that away. Because it doesn’t fit in with our approach to faith, we may be tempted to ignore it. But we cannot do that! Although they are difficult for us to hear, I believe we must pay attention to Jesus’ demands in this passage. The fact that they are so difficult for us to hear today, and they probably always will be, makes this passage so important. They create a tension that I think is purposeful on Jesus’ part. It was meant to draw us continually deeper into our commitment to following Christ. I’ve been reading this passage personally, professionally, and academically for over 40 years, and it continues to challenge me to this day. I hope it continues to challenge you as well. I think that’s the point: these demands continually call us to follow Jesus in a way of life that defines all of life. That means continually learning what it means for us to leave everything “behind,” to let everything go, for the sake of the kingdom of God! Perhaps Moses was right in that this means we have to seek to put into practice what our hearts are telling us is right, even and especially when the whole world may be telling us it’s wrong! But despite what Moses said about it being “not too difficult” for us, I think that’s always going to be difficult.

[2] Cf. Jürgen Moltmann, The Way of Jesus Christ, 204, where he expresses the value of the decision to follow Jesus in discipleship: “Anyone who participates in ‘Christ’s sufferings’” becomes a witness “to the coming truth against the ruling lie, to coming justice and righteousness against the prevailing injustice, and to coming life against the tyranny of death.” This by definition sets those who follow him at odds with the current status quo.

Tuesday, August 05, 2025

A Whole New Wardrobe

Colossians 3:1-17[1]

I usually learn a few things from teaching confirmation class. Not necessarily about faith, mind you, but about popular culture and where our young people are. A couple of years ago, one of our students told me that I dress in a manner he called “bougie.” I’d never heard of that word, so I didn’t know what it meant. One of the other students assured me that it’s a good thing. As I understand it, the idea is that he thought my wardrobe is stylish. That’s the way many young people use the word “bougie” these days. Well, as you may know, I’m interested in words, so I looked into it. As is often the case with “new” words in our language, others use it in a different way. To some “bougie” means “fancy,” or “flamboyant,” or even “overly pretentious.” I looked up “bougie” and discovered that it comes from the term “bourgeois.” That’s a philosophical word used to describe the “showy” behavior of middle-class people with recently acquired wealth. And, originally, when “bougie” became a slang word in American English in the 1970’s, it referred to people trying to “act rich.” But as words change, these days, “bougie” simply means “stylish.” What began as a rather sarcastic criticism has become a compliment.

In our lesson from Colossians for today, Paul talks about changing of clothes. In reality, what he’s really talking about is changing one’s life, which is a lot harder for us than changing clothes. Throughout his letters, Paul addresses the change of life that ought to accompany a person’s profession of faith in Jesus Christ as Lord. All the ways in which we can live that harm or diminish ourselves or others are like clothes that have been so stained as to become unwearable. Or they are like clothes that have become worn out or that simply don’t fit us anymore. When you have clothes that you can’t wear anymore, you get rid of them. Paul’s meaning is that in place of those harmful ways of living, we’re to “clothe” ourselves with the qualities that defined Jesus’ way of life.

In particular, Paul calls us to live with “compassion, kindness, humility, quiet strength, discipline” (Col 3:12, MSG).[2] That in and of itself is a tall order, if you really think about what it means to make those qualities the defining marks of your life. Above all, he says that we’re to “wear love” like a “basic, all-purpose garment” (Col 3:14, MSG) That shouldn’t come as a surprise to us, since the whole Bible teaches us that God wants us to love our brothers and sisters—all our brothers and sisters. None of this is new to most of us. But I’m not sure whether we understand the motivation for it all. It’s not just that you’re supposed to be a good and kind and nice person. Since Christ died for us, we’re also called to die to all that characterizes a life that is selfish and harmful to others (Col 3:5-9). More than that, because Christ has been raised to new life, and we have been “raised with Christ” (Col 3:1), we have his new life within us.[3] What Paul is really asking us to do is to clothe ourselves with Jesus. His way of life, his love, his character, and all that goes with it, are to be the “new clothes” in our wardrobe.

That might sound easy enough for us. Changing clothes is something we do all the time. But what we have to remember is that most people in that day only had one set of clothes. Having more than one set of clothes was a sign of wealth. The wardrobe that many of us tend to keep in our closets would have been available only to the richest of the rich. Everyone else literally wore the same set of clothes day after day. So when Paul talked about a change of clothes, that would have been significant. Working-class people may have been able to replace their clothing more than once a year.[4] But most people simply wore their clothing until it was too stained or too threadbare to wear in public.

I think the point we should take away from this is that “changing clothes” wasn’t something that happened often for most people. It was a significant act. That’s why Paul could use it as an analogy for the difference our faith in Jesus Christ as Lord should make in our lives. It should be a big deal. In fact, it was such a big deal in that day that some people were shunned from their families, some were fired from their jobs, and some were even expelled from their communities as a result. Faith in Jesus Christ as Lord may have changed everything in their lives! In our day, I’m not sure that’s the case for us these days. Ironically, our faith in Jesus Christ may be just as insignificant as changing clothes is for us. We typically change clothes more than once a day, at least. We have work clothes, we have gym clothes, we have dress clothes, we have casual clothes, and we have comfortable clothes we only wear at home. Changing clothes for us is no big deal. I wonder whether professing our faith in Jesus Christ as our Lord has become as insignificant to us as changing our clothes.

Lately I’ve been exploring some of the reasons why people outside the church don’t come to church. I think this may be another reason. Our faith just doesn’t seem to make much of a difference in the way we live. In fact, sociologists have documented that the lifestyles of those who are in the church aren’t much different from those who are outside the church. When we fail to demonstrate the difference our faith in Jesus Christ as Lord makes in our lives, we fail to give anyone a reason to be here. Participating in church is just another option for Sunday morning, like the varied options of clothing we have. To some people, it’s just a waste of time. If we don’t have anything better to do, we go to church. But who wants to waste their time with something that doesn’t really make a difference in their lives or in the lives of anybody else? I’m not sure I have the answer to that question, but that’s a question that I wonder about when I think about Paul comparing the difference our faith in Jesus Christ makes in our lives to changing clothes.

Going back to where we started, I personally don’t think the way I dress is all that special. I’ve had the suit I’m wearing today for twenty years! I try to keep my wardrobe fresh, but the way I do it is by shopping clearance sales. Sometimes that works out, and sometimes it doesn’t. My daughter assures me that I most definitely do not dress “bougie.” I’m okay with that. I want to look my best, but I also want my clothes to be practical. And by that I mean that I can get away with wearing them for a long time by just adding fresh touches here and there. I pay attention to my wardrobe, but I’m not much of a shopper, so I don’t make a big deal out of it.

As we reflect on our lesson for today, I think most of us would like to hope that our faith in Jesus Christ as Lord is far more important than the clothes we wear. Perhaps a better analogy for us would be a completely new wardrobe. Not many of us ever completely change our whole wardrobe at once. That’s what Paul is calling us to do. But I would say that for most of us it’s all too easy to get caught up in the push and pull of our lives. So much so that we really don’t pay that much attention to how we live. We don’t put much thought into what we say, and whether or not our words harm others or help them. We don’t put much thought into how we interact with people. Our own experiences, the stresses and the frustrations, the fears and the hardships, as well as the joys and celebrations of our lives just occupy us so much that we may forget to think about being intentional about “clothing” ourselves with Jesus Christ each day. Some of us may need to clear out a whole wardrobe that does not fit well with our faith. In place, we may need a whole new wardrobe. Paul calls us to put on the qualities that define Jesus’ life: his love, his compassion, his kindness, his humility. When we live this way, I believe that people will be drawn to join us. Not because of who we are, but because of the way we demonstrate the life of Jesus Christ in the way we live each and every day.

[2] Cf. E. Lohse, Colossians and Philemon: A commentary on the Epistles to the Colossians and to Philemon, 147: “All of the five terms that describe the new man’s conduct are used in other passages to designate acts of God or of Christ.” (compassion: Rom 12:1; 2 Cor 1:3; kindness: Rom 2:4; 11:22; Eph 2:7; Tit 3:4; humility: Phil 2:8; 2 Cor 10:1; patience: Rom 2:4; 9:22).

[3] Cf. Michael Barram, “Colossians 3:1-17,” Interpretation, 59 (April 2005): 190, where he says that “the living Christ provides the basis for all Christian conduct”; and further, these behaviors become “the norm for believers because Christ is alive and reigning with God.”

[4] For a summary of research about this, see Dafna Shlezinger-Katsman, “Clothing,” in The Oxford Handbook of Jewish Daily Life in Roman Palestine, 362-81, and on the availability of clothing related to wealth and poverty see Gildas Hamel, “Poverty and Charity,” in ibid., 308-324, esp. 318-19.

Tuesday, July 22, 2025

Simple Actions

Colossians 1:1-14, Luke 10:25-37[1]

My Grandmother’s sister, Ruth Jackson, was the first woman to become an orthopedic surgeon. Anywhere. In fact, the association of women Orthopedic Surgeons is called the “Ruth Jackson Society.” She was quite a gutsy lady—just becoming a doctor was hard enough for a woman in those days. Her passion combined with her compassion for people led her to break into one of the most elite “men’s only” clubs in that day. In fact, Orthopedic Surgery is still that way to this day, a century later! When my aunt Ruth was treated for a neck injury, she was unhappy that orthopedics in that day was a “hands-off” discipline. They took x-rays, used neck braces, and prescribed traction for patients without ever actually touching them. So she pioneered a “hands-on” approach to treating neck injuries. She literally wrote the book on the treatment of neck injuries—a book that went through 4 editions and was translated into various languages and was the standard text around the world for many years.

Growing up with Aunt Ruth was both wonderful and difficult. She taught me to shoot, to fish, and to drive, among many other things. She could be incredibly demanding of a boy who she wanted to follow in her footsteps. I still remember the time at her dining table when she insisted that any nephew of hers was going to learn proper table manners! I was 6 years old! Obviously, it stuck with me all these years. In fact, the whole family expected me—both implicitly and out loud—to do something “spectacular” just like Aunt Ruth. They didn’t insist that I go into medicine—though she applied a great deal of “arm twisting” to get me to do just that. But whatever field I went into, it was clear that I was expected to do something “spectacular.”

We live in a world where it seems more and more that you have to do something “spectacular” in order to make a difference. I think this is in part due to the fact that instant communications have made our world much bigger for all of us. With access to news about so many problems that are so widespread all over the world, it can be so easy for us to think, “I’m just one person,” and “I can’t really make a difference.” I think this is especially the case in our culture where we almost worship “celebrities.” How many of our kids at certain ages dream not of becoming doctors or lawyers or teachers, but rather famous actors or musicians or athletes? To some extent, that’s just youthful exuberance. But I think some of it comes from our near obsession with people who are “famous.” And for some, that notion that you have to do something spectacular or even become famous can be linked to feeling valued by those you love.

I think that our lesson from Paul’s letter to the Colossians this week gives us some help at this point. In his letters, Paul talks about the Christian life in a way that is pretty down to earth. It’s a matter of “bearing fruit” and doing “good work” (Col. 1:10). I would remind you that “bearing fruit” in the Bible is a metaphor for the quality of your character, not “getting results.” It’s about who we are, not what we accomplish. Here and elsewhere in his letters, Paul talks about the Christian life as a matter of simple actions, like “walking the walk,” and not just “talking the talk.” These and other incredibly ordinary activities are what it means to live in a such way as to “honor and please the Lord” who redeemed us (Col 1:10-14). It sounds like the life that Paul envisions for those of us who would follow Christ is really nothing spectacular at all. It’s a matter of focusing on simple actions in our daily living.

That might seem too cliché to merit our attention, until you think about the Parable of the Good Samaritan. After all, what did the Samaritan do that was so “spectacular”? All that kind soul did was to notice the one who was wounded, actually take time to stop, and care enough to bind up his wounds. And then he saw to it that this wounded man could have the time he needed to recuperate. It’s a story of simple actions: mercy put into practice, compassion that goes the second mile. Stopping, caring for him, putting him up at the inn, were all simple actions. Nothing spectacular. But they made all the difference in the world to “the one who fell among robbers.”

It seems to me, contrary to our culture that is obsessed with all things “spectacular,” it is when we are engaged in simple actions that we make the most difference in another person’s life. I’ve studied with world-renowned theologians and Bible scholars. But the most influential person in my life was my brother, Douglas, who was mentally and emotionally handicapped. It was just the gentleness of his soul that impacted me so deeply. To paraphrase one of my favorite spiritual writers, Henri Nouwen, the Christian life is “mostly hidden in the ordinariness of everyday living.”[2] It’s not something that makes headlines in the news.

When you get right down to it, that’s the only place we can really make much of a difference in the life of another human being. We mere mortals rarely achieve the level of influence that can truly make a difference for hundreds or thousands of people out there. For the most part, we can touch a life here, a life there. And we do that through the quality of our character as displayed in simple actions, not anything “spectacular” we might do. It’s through the way in which we actually relate to people, the way we actually treat other human beings, not through any great “achievement,” that we really have an effect on others. From that perspective, the Christian life is a matter of simple actions that constitute living out the grace and mercy and compassion of God. I see a lot of pain and suffering in this world. When we live in a world of hurt like that, it makes it all the more important for us to live out God’s grace and mercy and compassion in simple actions every day.

[2] Henri Nouwen, Here and Now:Living in the Spirit, 103: “The compassionate life is mostly hidden in the ordinariness of everyday living.”

Tuesday, June 24, 2025

Keeping God's Word

Keeping God’s Word

John 14:15-29[1]

One of the criticisms regularly leveled against the church by those who avoid it is that “the church is full of hypocrites.” That notion has been around for a long time, and we’ve developed a lot of ways to deflect that criticism. One of them is by responding that we know we’re sinners, but we’re here because we’re forgiven, not because we’re perfect. While I agree with that statement one hundred percent, I think it misses the point. It doesn’t really address the criticism that we in the church are “hypocrites.” That’s because we don’t typically take the time to find out what people mean when they level that criticism against the church.

I think when people call us “hypocrites,” they may be referring to the fact that they hear us say one thing but they see us doing something very different. We claim to follow Jesus, but we fail to practice the love that Jesus said would be the defining characteristic of those who follow him, as the Gospel lesson from last week reminds us (Jn 13:34-35). We say we believe the Bible to be the “Word of God,” but we fail to live out the fundamental principles of the Bible in our daily lives. Principles like “you shall love your neighbor as yourself” (Lev. 19:18). Or, “See that justice is done—help those who are oppressed, give orphans their rights, and defend widows.” (Isa 1:16-17, GNT). Or, “The Lord God has told us what is right and what he demands: Seeing that justice is done, letting mercy be your first concern, and humbly obeying your God” (Mic. 6:8, CEV). Or, as Jesus put it, “In everything, do to others what you would want them to do to you” (Mt 7:12, NIRV). When people see us living in a way that contradicts those basic principles, I’m afraid our actions speak much louder than our words.

In our Gospel lesson for today, Jesus addresses this issue. He says quite bluntly that “If you love me, you will keep my commandments” (Jn 14:15). That might sound strange to those of us who are used to the language of grace promising us salvation as a gift and freeing us from the bondage of living by rules. But in Jesus’ day, “keeping” the commandments was a perfectly normal way of expressing a life of faithfulness to God. “Keeping” God’s word meant internalizing God’s truths to the extent that they shaped every aspect of one’s daily life. It meant practicing God’s love and God’s mercy in every aspect of life. I think that’s what Jesus had in mind when he told his disciples that others would know that they follow him by how well they practiced the love he showed them.

I think we can get confused about how the gift of salvation relates to how well we keep God’s word. There seem to be two extremes. On the one hand, there are those who obsess about every little detail of Scripture in a compulsive effort to obey God perfectly, as if their very souls or their eternal destiny depended on getting it all just right. At the other extreme are those who think of biblical teachings as “suggestions” and instead adopt a way of life that looks more like “doing your own thing.” Of course, life is rarely “clear-cut” enough for us to know what the “right” thing to do is in an absolute sense. But that doesn’t mean we throw out the teachings of Scripture altogether.

I would say the true test of how well we keep God’s word is not how much we read it in worship, or how well we can quote it from memory. The true test is whether our actions back up our words. That only happens when we’ve internalized the central principles of Scripture enough, we’ve made them so much a part of who we are, we’ve taken them into our hearts and lives so deeply that we follow them as guides for living when it’s not always clear what the right thing to do is. In our ever-changing world, we are going to be placed more and more into situations where that’s the case. I think when we have truly embraced God’s love, God’s mercy, God’s kindness, God’s fairness, and God’s forgiveness as our basis for living, then those are the principles that will define our actions.

One of the challenges we face when it comes to “keeping God’s Word” is that many of us still think that Jesus somehow makes it “easier” for us. But in my mind that’s clearly not the case. If we just look at the way Jesus deals with some of the Ten Commandments in his Sermon on the Mount, we can see this. When it comes to the commandment, “You shall not kill,” Jesus said not only should you not kill anyone, you should also not give in to the hateful anger that devalues the life of others by the way you speak to them or about them! That one can be pretty hard to live up to! And we might also wonder about what it means to “keep” Jesus’ commandments. In case there’s any doubt, I would say there’s really no distinction at all between the essential commands of God in the Hebrew Bible and the teachings of Jesus. Throughout the Scriptures, the calling is to love God with everything we are and to love our neighbors as ourselves.

The fact that Jesus said that one of the distinguishing marks of those who follow him, of those who love him, is whether or not we “keep” his word doesn’t mean that our relationship with God is something we have to earn. One of the hallmarks of our Reformed tradition is that it teaches us we can never do that. Rather, it’s like a relationship where two people love each other and want the best for each other—not because of some external rule or code of conduct, but because of the love they have for each other. Jesus said that if we love him, we’ll follow his teachings, his way of life, his example—simply because the love we have for him compels us to do so. When we do that, then the people around us will see our actions line up with what we say we believe.

Mohandas Ghandi famously said that he would become a Christian if he ever met one. Of course, he had met many who professed to be Christians. But his point was that he never met anyone who actually put Jesus’ teachings into practice. He may have been a little hard on some folks, but that’s the challenge we all face. When our love for God and for Jesus Christ truly define who we are, from the inside out, then our lives will publicly display what it means to keep God’s word. We will do it just because that’s who we are, because our love for God and for Jesus compels us to live that way. Fortunately, learn in our Gospel lesson that it’s not a do-it-yourself project. Jesus promised the disciples that “the Advocate, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you everything” (Jn. 14:26). And the idea is that the Spirit is the one who will help us live this way. With the Spirit’s help, with the guidance of Scripture, we can live a life of keeping God’s word, which means a life where our actions line up with what we say we believe.

Wednesday, May 21, 2025

Every Race, Tribe, Nation, and Language

Revelation 7:9-17; Galatians 3:28[1]

Robert Frost is one of my favorite poets. Many of us may know if him by his poem “The Road Not Taken.” One of his poems called “Mending Wall” questions the validity of the boundaries in this world. In the poem, Frost puts it this way: “Before I built a wall I’d ask to know what I was walling in or walling out, And to whom I was like to give offence. Something there is that doesn’t love a wall, that wants it down.”[2] Now, what we have to understand is that in Frost’s New England stone “walls” were the “fences” between properties. The poem is about the annual ritual that he and his neighbor performed—walking the wall to replace stones that have fallen off.

In the poem, the “neighbor” insists on holding firmly to the notion handed down to him that “Good fences make good neighbors.” But Frost saw the very forces of nature working against the continued existence of stone fences. Whether it was the ground swelling and contracting, toppling the stones, or it was the action of ice freezing and breaking up the stones, Frost saw the very elements themselves as conspiring to bring down the walls and fences that conventional wisdom insists “make good neighbors.” From Frost’s perspective, God has built into nature itself the intention to continually uproot and overturn walls and fences. But, of course, Frost’s poem was about more than just physical walls. He was talking about all the boundaries and divisions we feel compelled to uphold.

That’s one the points in the vision of the great multitude in Revelation. In that vast throng of people worshipping the one on the throne and the Lamb, all the boundaries and lines and divisions that separate people from one another are erased. Of course, that vision is contrary to the way of the world. In fact, it was contrary to the way of the world from the time it was written down. The way of the world says that only members are allowed. The way of the world says you must wear shoes and a shirt to receive service. The way of the world insists that differences in color and culture constitute absolute boundaries that must be upheld at all cost. This world wants clear boundaries and fences—and laws that reinforce them!

In the Kingdom of God, however, the standard operating procedure is “neither Jew nor Greek, neither male nor female, neither slave nor free” (Gal 3:28). To expand on that statement today, we would have to say that the way of the Kingdom of God is neither white nor black nor brown nor yellow nor red; neither rich nor poor, neither employed nor unemployed, neither middle class nor unhoused; neither native born citizen, nor refugee, nor immigrant, “legal” or otherwise. All are included in God’s vision of new life for the human family. Like Frost’s notion of nature itself conspiring to bring down the walls in our world, God’s Kingdom is designed so that nothing will be left that can possibly divide us!

The vision of the great multitude in Revelation is a startling one. I think the majority of us in mainline protestant churches may have read this passage as if the crowd were composed only of white, anglo-saxon, protestant Christian, middle- to upper-class voting citizens of the USA! In other words, people who look just like us. But the seer of Revelation says that this multitude comes from “every race, tribe, nation, and language” (Rev. 7:9 CEV). In the First-Century world, that was a description of just about every distinction that could possibly divide the human family. It’s an understatement to say that in our day we’ve added to that list! But the point of the vision is that the “great multitude” cuts across all the ways in which we like to divide humanity to “protect” ourselves from “others” who are different from us.

After almost fifty years of studying the Bible, it’s my considered opinion that this vision of the kingdom of God including all people is the focus of the biblical message. Many have tried to frame the “great multitude” in Revelation as a vast throng of Christians from every people group. But I would insist that way of thinking is foreign to the Bible. From start to finish, the Bible tells us about God’s purpose to restore the whole human family, no exceptions. At the start of that great work, Abraham hears the promise that “in you all the families of the earth will be blessed” (Gen. 12:3).[3] And the end of God’s project, depicted by the vision of the vast and diverse crowd around the throne in the book of Revelation, gives us an actual image of what that could look like: the whole human family gathered around the throne as “servants of God” (Rev. 7:3)![4]

This vision lies at the heart of the call in the book of Revelation to follow the way of the Lamb who was slain. But Revelation also makes it clear that all who follow that way expose themselves to danger. It’s dangerous to follow a man who was executed for turning the world upside down. It’s dangerous to hold faithfully to the testimony of the Lamb who was slain. It's dangerous to follow the one who wins the victory not by force but by giving himself over to death. And it’s dangerous to choose to follow the way that seeks to erase all the “differences” we use to divide the human family. That’s what the “Lamb who was slain” calls us to do.

We live in a time when it feels like the “powers that be” are obsessed with reinforcing the way of the world and all its divisions. When we embrace people from every race, tribe, nation, and language—as well as all the other “groups” into which we divide the human family, we must expect opposition, hostility, and perhaps even violence. But I would say that it makes a difference every time one of us chooses to follow the radically inclusive way of the Lamb. I would say every time one of us chooses to follow this way, we are continuing the process of “turning the world upside down” that Jesus began. And we can take comfort from the assurance that the Lamb who was slain will one day be revealed as the one who has won the victory! On that day, the biblical vision of God’s Kingdom will be fulfilled, where all the walls and fences and boundaries and divisions are torn down. In the meantime, the assurance is that when we choose to cross a boundary to show God’s love to any who are excluded as “different,” we are making a contribution to that final victory.[5]

[2] Robert Frost, “Mending Wall,” from North of Boston.

[3] Cf. Richard Bauckham, “The List of the Tribes in Revelation 7, Again,” Journal for the Study of the New Testament 42 (1991):99-115; cf. 103, where he emphasizes the vision of the innumerable multitude as a fulfillment of the promise to Abraham and his descendants.

[4] Cf. Balmer H. Kelly, “Revelation 7:9-17,” Interpretation 40 (July, 1986): 294, where he says this passage presents “an unalloyed ‘gospel,’ a seeing and hearing of the final justification of Christian hope.”

[5] Cf. Jürgen Moltmann, The Church in the Power of the Spirit, 293: since the Christian community is “the sign, the instrument, and the breaking-in” of Christ’s reign and therefore of the new creation, it “is therefore not an exclusive community of the saved, but the initial and inclusive materialization of the world freed by the risen Christ.”

Jesus Calls Us

John 21:1-17; Acts 9:1-20[1]

Last week we talked about how we are always in the process of “coming to faith” in the midst of new challenges and opportunities. And we do that by responding to those challenges and opportunities with a faith that is both true to life and true to who we are. But the question remains, what does it look like for us to authentically “come to faith”? In one of our Scripture lessons, we heard the story of Saul’s “conversion” on the road to Damascus. That experience has been held up by many in our day as the definitive model for what it means for us to truly come to faith in Jesus. We make a complete, 180-degree turn in our lives. We turn away, in a dramatic experience, from all that may lead us “astray” and determine to walk the “straight and narrow path.”

That traditional view of conversion has resulted in a lot of people getting “saved” who never really experience much of a change in the way they live. Once the “drama” in the dramatic conversion wears off, everything goes “back to normal.” I would say there’s something amiss when that happens. In our Scripture lessons for today we hear the stories of three people who, when Jesus called them, changed the way they were living their lives, and never went “back to normal.” In part, that change took place because their encounter with Jesus changed the way they viewed reality as a whole, and how they were going about their lives. But I would say the Bible is full of stories of people who changed the way they lived because of an encounter with God. And the point of those stories is that truly coming to faith changes the way you live.

In our Gospel lesson, Simon Peter and a number of the other “apostles” have gone fishing. It’s a little confusing, because this story comes after John’s Gospel has already told us about Jesus’ appearance to them, not once but twice. It would seem that this story, which had the ring of truth to it, never quite found a “home” in the tradition of preaching the good news that came to be written down in our Gospels. What is notable is that it “explains” how Simon Peter went from being a deserter to being a leader in the early church. After boasting that though all the others might desert Jesus, he would die before doing so (cf. Matt. 26:33/Mk. 14:29), Peter publicly denied even knowing Jesus. Not once, but three times. It shouldn’t surprise us that Peter went fishing. He likely thought his career as an “apostle” of Jesus was over.

But Jesus had different plans for Peter. Jesus revealed himself to Peter as the one who was risen from the dead and called them all back from fishing. Even Peter. After they shared a meal together, Jesus had an unusual conversation with Peter. He began by asking, “Simon son of John, do you love me more than these others do?” (Jn. 21:15, NLT). I would say it’s likely that Jesus’ question alluded to Peter’s boast, which implied that he loved Jesus more than the other disciples, because he would die with Jesus even though the others deserted him. Peter, now a much humbler man after his bitter failure, simply answered, “Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.” And in response, Jesus simply told him, “Feed my lambs.” Just a simple task, yet one that would take all the love, all the energy, and all the strength he had to give. And to leave no room for doubt about what Jesus had in mind for him, he asked Peter the same question three times, and each time he told Peter that if he loved him, Peter should show it by caring for the “flock.” Peter emerged from this encounter with Jesus a changed man.

In our lesson from the book of Acts, we learn how Saul the Pharisee encountered Jesus, alive and risen. Given our general impression of St. Paul the Apostle to the Gentiles, we might find the description of Saul the Pharisee a bit shocking: he was “breathing threats and murder” against the disciples of Jesus (Acts. 9:1)! It’s hard for us to imagine the same Apostle who wrote “Love is patient; love is kind” (1 Cor. 13:4) acting out such vicious hostility. But as he was on his way to carry out his violent intentions, he met Jesus. I find it interesting that, when Jesus confronts him, “Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me?” (Acts 9:4), Saul replies, “Who are you, Lord?” Despite his former notions about Jesus, Saul recognized that he was dealing with the “Lord.” But nevertheless, I think he was stunned to hear the answer: “I am Jesus, the one you are persecuting!” (Acts 9:5 NLT). And as we know, that encounter with Jesus, alive and risen, changed his life. Saul the persecutor became Paul the preacher of the Gospel.

But he wasn’t the only one who was changed. We also hear how Ananias, one of the believers living in Damascus, was changed, and perhaps the whole community of believers as well. Ananias had heard about Saul’s violent persecution of believers. Like most of the Christians of that day, I’m quite sure Ananias feared Saul. And yet, we hear that Jesus appeared to Ananias in a “vision” and told him to “Go” and “ask for” Saul of Tarsus. It’s not surprising that Ananias objected! But Jesus insisted, “Go, for Saul is my chosen instrument” (Acts 9:15, NLT). And so Ananias went. But his encounter with Jesus had also changed him. Instead of approaching Saul with fear, he called him, “Brother Saul,” and he prayed for him. As a result, Saul was welcomed into the fellowship of believers. I would say that played no small role in the fact that Saul the former persecutor began preaching the Gospel so effectively that the believers had to smuggle him out of Damascus for his own safety.

Three stories of people who encountered Jesus, alive and risen from the dead. Three stories of people whose lives were forever changed by that encounter. Peter went from being a dejected failure to a leader of the church. “Simon, do you love me more than these others do?” “Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.” “Feed my lambs.” Saul went from being a violent persecutor to a humble and obedient servant of the Gospel. “Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me?” “Who are you, Lord?” “I am Jesus, the one you are persecuting!” Ananias, and likely the whole community of believers, went from living in fear of persecution to witnessing first-hand what God could do with someone like Saul the Pharisee when they embraced him as a brother.

I would say that in each case, these people were following a course of action that was dictated by their assumptions about their lives, about their reality, and about other people. Peter went fishing, he wasn’t feeding any lambs. Saul wasn’t proclaiming the Gospel, he was trying to stop it. Ananias wasn’t about to go anywhere near Saul of Tarsus, let alone call him “brother” or pray for him. But those assumptions were preventing them from fulfilling the work of God’s kingdom. So Jesus, the one who was alive and risen from the dead, confronted each of them. And in response, their lives were never the same. It makes me wonder what assumptions we’re holding that may be preventing us from fulfilling the work of God’s kingdom in our day. Perhaps it’s time we submit them to Jesus, the one who is alive and risen from the dead, so that we might learn from him how our lives need to change. Coming to faith is always about responding to the call of Jesus in the midst of new challenges and opportunities in a way that is both true to life and true to who we are.

Tuesday, November 05, 2024

Stewards

Mark 12:28-34[1]

“Stewardship” is not a word we use much these days. When we do, it usually has something to do with money. Boards of foundations exercise “stewardship” with the money entrusted to them. That means they’re expected to be wise managers of those funds, both in terms of fulfilling the purpose of the organization and in terms of making sound decisions to ensure that the foundation continues to operate. We also talk about “stewardship” with reference to natural resources. For example, we expect the National Park Service to care for those public lands so that future generations may enjoy their beauty. Of course, the other arena in which we use the word “stewardship” is in the church. And to most of us, “stewardship” equals the church asking its members to donate money to support its ministry.

I would say that the biblical view of the Christian life views “stewardship” in a much broader way than that. The starting place for all of it is the conviction that all that we are and all that we have come to us as gifts from God. From our very existence, to our gifts and abilities, to the opportunities we’ve had to make use of those skills, it all falls under the category of “gift from God.” There’s no part of our lives that we can say “I did this myself.” Even our most individual achievements, when viewed from the biblical perspective, are made possible because of all that God has given us. Whether it’s the ability to make music, or shape students’ lives, or build a thriving business, or discover a new cure, or work for the health and wellbeing of others, it’s all a gift from God.

Beyond that, since God not only created us, but also gave us new life through Jesus Christ, from the biblical perspective, we “belong” to God. As the statement of faith put it earlier, we “belong” to him in that God has claimed us all as his children with his unconditional and unfailing love. More than that, Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection mean that we “belong” to God in that we have a hope and a future that comes from him and from him alone. Our very ability to get up in the morning and face a new day with the enthusiasm that comes from knowing that how we live and what we do in this world makes a difference, both now and eternally, is ours because God has given us new life through his son Jesus Christ.

All of that is necessary to understand our Gospel lesson for today. In this section of Mark’s Gospel, the religious leaders have been carrying on a debate with Jesus, hoping to make a fool out of him in front of the crowds who followed him. One of them asked him which of God’s commands was the “first,” or most important. It’s no coincidence that Jesus chose love for God and love for neighbor in reply. The “first” commandment came from the Shema, which was and still is the heart of the Jewish faith (Deut 6:4-5): “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 12:29-30). And the “second” commandment (Lev 19:18), “You shall love your neighbor as yourself,” is part of a summary of God’s intentions for the way he wanted his people to live their lives in the book of Leviticus.

These two “great” commands reflect a fundamental framework of faith that runs throughout the whole Bible. God created all that is, including us, out of his love. And God is in the process of restoring all that is, including us, through what Jesus Christ did for us in his death and resurrection. When we miss the fact that all that we are and all that we have come to us from God’s love, both in creation and in salvation, we can make the mistake of thinking that “stewardship” relates only to what we may do at church. But from the biblical perspective God’s love claims our whole lives.

So it is that we who are fortunate enough to live our whole lives knowing that God loves us unconditionally and irrevocably are called to love God in return with all that we are. That’s one way to summarize “love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind, and with all your strength.” God desires more than just our money or a token amount of our time. God’s love claims our whole lives, our very selves, everything we are and everything we have.

I think it’s natural to wonder what that’s supposed look like in real life. Are we all meant to go live in a monastery or a convent, devoting all our waking hours to worshiping and serving God? Are we all called to dedicate ourselves to serve as ministers or missionaries? I’ve been trying to learn what this means all my life, and I must confess, I’m not sure any of us really has the answer. We can’t even love another person with everything we are and everything we have. Not to the extent that the Bible calls us to love God. How are we expected to love God in that way, given the fact that we all fall short?

I think the best way we have to figure this out is to look to Jesus. Jesus loved God with all his life. And from that love for God flowed a way of living defined by the second “great” commandment: “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” Jesus demonstrated his love for God by treating all people with dignity, respect, fairness, compassion, and kindness, which is the practical definition of “loving your neighbor” (Lev 19:9-18, 33-36). We show our love for God when we follow his example and commit all that we are and all that we have to serving God’s purpose in this world.

I know that all sounds incredibly impractical, if not downright impossible. Who can live their whole life in service to God. There are bills to pay, and children to raise, and parents to care for, and homes to maintain. And more than that, we all have activities we do for “fun” to “re-create” the energy we need to take care of our responsibilities. How can we possibly devote more than an hour here or there on a Sunday morning or a Wednesday evening to God?

I believe it’s a matter of perspective. We can view everything we do—working at our jobs, raising our families, and more—as a way of living out our commitment to love God with all that we are and all that we have. What God wants from us, and what God has always wanted from those who love him, is nothing less than all our lives. That’s what stewardship means in the Bible. It means to love God with all our lives. It’s not primarily about money, it’s about our hearts. It’s not primarily about how we spend our time, it’s about making the choice again and again to turn the gift of God’s love into love for other people. When that perspective on all of life is the starting point for all that we do, then what we give, whether money or time or service, will flow naturally and joyfully from a heart that’s overwhelmed with gratitude for the love we’ve received.

Wednesday, September 04, 2024

Training

Ephesians 6:10, 13-21[1]

As I mentioned last week, anyone who’s made the effort to learn a skill knows that it takes practice. But those of us who’ve been serious about trying to learn that skill know that it also takes training. I’ve learned that lesson in my on-again, off-again career as an amateur guitar player. I started trying to play guitar back in 1979. I went off to college that year, setting about teaching myself how to play guitar. I learned some chords, and I could play well enough to lead camp songs, but that was about as far as it went. And it didn’t take long before my guitar sat in a corner mostly unplayed.

Twenty years later I decided to try again to learn to play guitar. This time I took lessons. I started with classical lessons, because I wanted to learn to play the notes on the guitar, not just the chords. I did that for about a year and a half. Life’s changes interrupted my classical lessons, but I kept at it. Several years later, I decided I wanted to learn to play an electric guitar also. The technique is quite different. So I started taking weekly lessons. I did that for about five years. I learned a lot about basic technique. I learned to play some solos, like the one from “Hotel California.” More importantly, I learned something about the music theory behind Blues and Jazz, and I learned to improvise a bit. I still have a lot to learn about playing guitar. But I know that I wouldn’t have gotten anywhere without some training.

We’ve been talking a lot lately about what it looks like to try to live the Christian life. In his letter to the Ephesians, St. Paul has urged us to “lead a life worthy of your calling” (Eph 4:1, NLT). And we learned over the last several weeks that we demonstrate the quality of our faith by the quality of our relationships. We saw that Paul gets uncomfortably specific about what that looks like. And we heard him encourage us to conduct our relationships in such a way that we seek to do good to others, and not to harm, we try to help others, not hurt them, and we look for ways to give to others, rather than trying to take from them. And last week we discussed what it looks like to “live wisely, and not foolishly” (Eph 5:15, CEB) by practicing things like honoring God, and gratitude, and respect for others. And as we have been discussing all along, this way of life takes constant practice.

But I would suggest that living the Christian life also takes training. It’s not something that we can just teach ourselves. We learn to live this way over time, over years and even decades of training and practice. St. Paul alludes to this training in our lesson for today. He uses the analogy of a soldier equipped for battle, with armor, a shield, and even a weapon. These days, using military analogies for the Christian life can be troubling. Unfortunately, throughout the ages too many Christians have taken the “battle” image Paul uses here too literally. And that makes it hard for us to compare a life that seeks to follow Jesus with warfare. But I think the main point of this passage is that it takes training to prepare for living the Christian life.

If we recognize that Paul is using the image of a soldier to encourage us to engage in training, perhaps we can learn something from this passage without endorsing any kind of violence in the name of Jesus. Take, for example, his encouragement to “Let the truth be like a belt around your waist, and let God’s justice protect you like armor” (Eph. 6:14, CEV). I think this suggests one area of training for the Christian life. It has to do with learning to discern and follow God’s will as you understand it. That’s something that takes training, and even discipline. We have to commit to it like a learning a musical instrument, or developing athletic skills, or following a fitness regimen. We commit to seeking to determine the right thing to do, in so far as it is humanly possible. And we try to do the right thing, again in so far as it is humanly possible.

A second line of training may be suggested by Paul’s call for us to “Let your faith be like a shield” and to “Let God's saving power be like a helmet” (Eph 6:16-17, CEV). The good news about our salvation by grace and the hope of the coming kingdom of God is not easy to understand. This suggests another area of training for the Christian life. We have to make an effort to dig into what the gospel means for us and for our lives. That includes Bible study. And Bible study starts with reading the Bible on a regular basis.[2] I think that’s what Jesus was talking about when he called people to “eat” his flesh as the bread of life. He was talking about ingesting his words, meditating on them, internalizing them, and remaining attentive to God’s voice. But we all need help understanding what we’re reading and hearing in the Bible. That’s where organized study comes in. We can participate in a group Bible Study. We can also read books that help make the gospel more understandable and more real to us. I find that helpful after 40 years of study. There are some authors who make it all “come to life.”[3]

Paul suggests a third focus of training in the discipline of prayer. I like the way Gene Peterson renders it in The Message: “pray hard and long” (Eph 6:18). Prayer keeps us connected to God.[4] It’s a source of strength and wisdom. Prayer opens us to the resources that God provides to help us live the Christian life every day, especially when life gets hard. But prayer also opens us up to other people, especially when we pray for them. And we need to pray especially for the people who may be the most difficult for us to love. When we do, it opens our closed hearts and helps us to understand where people are coming from, even when they may do something we find hurtful. Prayer opens us up and helps us live the Christian life.

It takes practice to live the Christian life. I’m still practicing, still trying to learn how to get it right. But more than that, it takes training. When we try the do-it-yourself method of learning to live the Christian life, the results may be just as unreliable as when I tried to teach myself to play the guitar. We need training to learn how to discern God’s will and put it into practice in our lives, in so far as it is humanly possible. We need training to figure out what the right thing to do is, and to figure out how to try to do it. We need training to understand the good news about Jesus that is the foundation for living the Christian life. And we need training to learn how to “pray hard and long.” The Christian life is not a do-it-yourself project. It’s not something we can successfully achieve on our own. Just as I needed a teacher to learn to play the guitar, so we all need to look to those in the body of Christ who can train us in the disciplines that enable us to live the Christian life in the face of the real-life situations we deal with every day. And part of the good news about this is that every day is a day when we can start again to learn how to live our lives more like Christ.

[2] Cf. Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Life Together, Dietrich Bonhoeffer Works, vol 5, 59-60: “brief passages cannot and must not take the place of reaching the Scripture as a whole. … The full witness to Jesus Christ the Lord can be clearly heard only in its immeasurable inner relationships, in the connection of Old and New Testaments, of promise and fulfillment, sacrifice and law, Law and Gospel, cross and resurrection, faith and obedience, having and hoping

[3] Cf. Henri Nouwen, Here and Now: Living in the Spirit, 72: “Reading in a spiritual way is reading with a desire to let God come closer to us. Most of us read to acquire knowledge or to satisfy our curiosity. … The purpose of spiritual reading, however, is not to master knowledge or information, but to let God’s Spirit master us.”

[4] Cf. Nouwen, Here and Now, 68: prayer is “the discipline that helps us to bring God back again and again to the center of our life.”

The Waking Dreamer