Daily Bible Reading
March 30: Holy Saturday
13And you shall know that I am the LORD, when I open your graves, and bring you up from your graves, O my people. 14I will put my spirit within you, and you shall live, and I will place you on your own soil; then you shall know that I, the LORD, have spoken and will act, says the LORD.”
Ezekiel 37:12b-14
Today is Holy Saturday, when we remember Jesus being dead. Not dying, but dead. Lying in the tomb. It’s quiet.
But that’s not all that was happening. On the surface, it appears nothing was happening at all. But in a spiritual sense, Jesus’ entry into death meant that the underworld received a thorough housecleaning. There’s a new sheriff in Hades, and he’s here to bust open the jail and let everyone out.
I have mentioned this painting a number of times in my preaching, a medieval Italian icon of Christ descending into the realm of the dead — a process we say we believe in the Creed, “he descended to the dead”, but don’t talk about a lot. I love this image, because it’s both funny and real. Funny, because whichever demon was guarding the entrance to the cave-like dwelling place of the dead lies crushed under the door with his foot poking out from under it, almost like a Bugs Bunny gag. Jesus kicked in the door to hell, and Satan didn’t stand a chance. And even funnier because the people look kind of bemused at best. It’s almost as if they have no idea what’s even going in. But it’s also real. Because we don’t know all that Jesus is up to either, least of all when we are in a death-state that we ourselves are in denial of. This is us: when death and fear and sin and despair have us imprisoned. This is every one of us at some point, when our bodies give out and we slip into the unknown. This is us: when life has lost all flavor, when we are no longer living, but merely existing as a shadow of our former self.
Jesus invades this prison, and reaches in. He grabs your hand and pulls you out. This is not so much an Easter images as a pre-Easter image. Jesus meets us IN death, in the very state of unaliveness, he comes to visit us there. He doesn’t wait for us to overcome it, to repent, or to get better. Those steps are all the result of his visitation of us in our shadow realm. “God proves his love for us in that while we still were sinners Christ died for us.” (Romans 5:8) “…for as all die in Adam, so all will be made alive in Christ.” (1 Cor 15:22)
(Robin Lutjohann)
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March 29: Good Friday
Meanwhile, standing near the cross of Jesus were his mother, and his mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene. 26When Jesus saw his mother and the disciple whom he loved standing beside her, he said to his mother, “Woman, here is your son.” 27Then he said to the disciple, “Here is your mother.” And from that hour the disciple took her into his own home.
John 19:25b-42
28After this, when Jesus knew that all was now finished, he said (in order to fulfill the scripture), “I am thirsty.” 29A jar full of sour wine was standing there. So they put a sponge full of the wine on a branch of hyssop and held it to his mouth. 30When Jesus had received the wine, he said, “It is finished.” Then he bowed his head and gave up his spirit.
31Since it was the day of Preparation, the Jews did not want the bodies left on the cross during the sabbath, especially because that sabbath was a day of great solemnity. So they asked Pilate to have the legs of the crucified men broken and the bodies removed. 32Then the soldiers came and broke the legs of the first and of the other who had been crucified with him. 33But when they came to Jesus and saw that he was already dead, they did not break his legs. 34Instead, one of the soldiers pierced his side with a spear, and at once blood and water came out. 35(He who saw this has testified so that you also may believe. His testimony is true, and he knows that he tells the truth.) 36These things occurred so that the scripture might be fulfilled, “None of his bones shall be broken.” 37And again another passage of scripture says, “They will look on the one whom they have pierced.”
38After these things, Joseph of Arimathea, who was a disciple of Jesus, though a secret one because of his fear of the Jews, asked Pilate to let him take away the body of Jesus. Pilate gave him permission; so he came and removed his body. 39Nicodemus, who had at first come to Jesus by night, also came, bringing a mixture of myrrh and aloes, weighing about a hundred pounds. 40They took the body of Jesus and wrapped it with the spices in linen cloths, according to the burial custom of the Jews. 41Now there was a garden in the place where he was crucified, and in the garden there was a new tomb in which no one had ever been laid. 42And so, because it was the Jewish day of Preparation, and the tomb was nearby, they laid Jesus there.
“Good” Friday. I’m sure many of us have guffawed at the irony of this title for inarguably the worst day of the entire church year (the only day that might compete with today’s horror is tomorrow – the silent, frozen in-between day where nothing happens, the disciples are immobile from shock, and none of the Gospels have more than a sentence to say about the entire day). Today is a day – really, the day – of death and defeat.
And in the Gospel of John, not even the women who in the other Gospels are present throughout Jesus’ time on the cross, all the way until he has been laid in the tomb, seem to be able to witness the entire tragedy. They are present under the cross, but as soon as the disciple whom Jesus loved takes Jesus’ mother Mary into his home, all the women disappear.
According to John, the last people who see the body of Jesus before the women find the empty tomb early that Sunday morning are Joseph of Arimathea and Nicodemus. That in itself is interesting though: both Joseph of Arimathea and Nicodemus were or perhaps even still are secret disciples of Jesus. Neither of them has publicly admitted or shown that they are followers of Jesus – until right now.
They are the ones who have the courage to go to Pilate and ask for Jesus’ body, and they are the ones doing the initial embalming. John says that Nicodemus brings spices weighing about 100 pounds – apparently, “normal” burials would have used about 5 pounds of spices, so Nicodemus went way over the top with what he brought to care for Jesus’ body.
Also, given the purity and cleanliness customs of their time, handling this dead body just hours, maybe even minutes, before the sabbath would have made both of them ritually unclean and so unable to participate in the sabbath celebrations. They would not have been allowed to touch anyone or anything related to the sabbath, so they would have had to spend that rest day alone, secluded at home, until they could go to the Mikveh a few days later to cleanse themselves.
Why, after not daring to show their true colors as followers of Jesus during the time when he was still in (almost) everyone’s good graces, do they suddenly dare to come into the light now, and by missing sabbath worship declare to all the world that this man who was just murdered in the most cruel way possible is more important than participating in worship and honoring the millennia-old commandment of rest?
Especially for Nicodemus, who earlier in the Gospel of John is called “a leader of the Jews” – an important, well-respected man among the highly educated elites in Jerusalem – this intentional uncleanliness at the most inopportune time must have had serious consequences. But he doesn’t seem to care – Jesus is more important.
Of course we don’t actually learn what might have happened to Nicodemus after these events, but this story is important in that it offers an unusual redemption arc. Normally we are used to Jesus yelling at people or simply rejecting them when they don’t immediately believe and follow him. Yet here, we have two men, at least one of whom was a high-ranking scholar and theologian, who needed three years to come around to Jesus.
While other stories in the Gospels where Jesus rejects those who hesitate might invite us to judge and reject those who hesitate in our time, the story of Joseph of Arimathea and especially that of Nicodemus ask us to be more compassionate and patient, and to leave the judgment to God. Sometimes it takes a drastic event for people to change their minds on something, and we, who already know how the entire story of the Gospel and perhaps even of this life will play out, can best serve God by being open, compassionate, and welcoming to each other, and to those who might join us later.
Even on this most painful day of the church calendar, allowing for this relief from judging others (and ourselves, by the way!) sounds like amazing Good News to me.
(Raphaela Mueller)
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March 28: Maundy Thursday
23For I received from the Lord what I also handed on to you, that the Lord Jesus on the night when he was betrayed took a loaf of bread, 24and when he had given thanks, he broke it and said, “This is my body that is for you. Do this in remembrance of me.” 25In the same way he took the cup also, after supper, saying, “This cup is the new covenant in my blood. Do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me.” 26For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes.
1 Corinthians 11:23-26
Today we remember how Jesus said,
“This is my body that is for you. Do this in remembrance of me.”
There is a grand and layered mystery here. His body is given for us and broken on the cross. He died for us. But also, WE eat his body in Holy Communion. We obey his command to “do this in remembrance” every time we gather at the altar. But even more, we ARE the body of the resurrected Christ. And when he says “do this in remembrance”, the “this” also means to give ourselves for the life of the world — our time, our love, our talents, our resources, our faith, our effort, our courage and our very selves, broken as they are, are given for others every time we are sent out into the world at the end of worship. And our answer is always the same: Thanks be to God!
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March 27
4The Lord GOD has given me
Isaiah 50:4-9a
the tongue of a teacher,
that I may know how to sustain
the weary with a word.
Morning by morning he wakens —
wakens my ear
to listen as those who are taught.
5The Lord GOD has opened my ear,
and I was not rebellious,
I did not turn backward.
6I gave my back to those who struck me,
and my cheeks to those who pulled out the beard;
I did not hide my face
from insult and spitting.
7The Lord GOD helps me;
therefore I have not been disgraced;
therefore I have set my face like flint,
and I know that I shall not be put to shame;
8he who vindicates me is near.
Who will contend with me?
Let us stand up together.
Who are my adversaries?
Let them confront me.
9It is the Lord GOD who helps me;
who will declare me guilty?
All of them will wear out like a garment;
the moth will eat them up.
This text was written by one of the prophets who contributed to the second part of Isaiah, but during Holy Week, we can see how this text might as well have been spoken (or thought, or written) by Jesus. Isaiah especially is a favorite for the New Testament to quote from in both the Gospels and the epistles. In today’s verses, too, we see reflected so many things Jesus had to endure – from exhaustion and unbelief in his hearers, all the way to physical abuse after his trial in Jerusalem. And we see his persistent, unwavering faith in God’s love and help.
At the same time that Isaiah offers reassurance and trust in God here though, I do sense underlying pain in these verses. It sounds like the writer had to care for many weary souls, some of which might even have suffered under the same people who would hit, insult, or spit on the prophet, or rip out his beard hair (ouch…). Jesus, too, had the tongue of a teacher, constantly sustained the weary, and consistently listened to God. He turned the other cheek to those who abused him, knowing that God helped him and no one could finally declare him guilty.
The conflicts this writer had to endure seem to have been quite frequent, so every day anew he has to make his face a stoic, unbothered mask – every day anew he has to set his jaw in determination. Every day anew he has to remind himself of God’s presence and vindication to be able to face his accusers and adversaries who might even drag him before the court. Jesus, too, often faced conflict – every day in what we now know as Holy Week – and was finally composed, maybe stoic, and silent during his trial at Pilate’s palace.
And yet, every single morning the first thing God did for the prophet was to open his ears so that he could learn and in turn teach those around him. Rather than just being a removed observer, God is directly involved in the unfolding of the story, both in the time of the Babylonian exile, and in the time of Jesus’ ministry, death, and resurrection.
And if God was present then, God is surely present with us now. That doesn’t mean that we won’t have conflict, misunderstandings, clashes, or struggles, but if we let God guide and support us through them, they will. Maybe one day we will even get to a point where God doesn’t have to hold us up and we can stand on our own two feet beside God and all our siblings in faith, but until then, “it is the Lord God who helps us; who will declare us guilty?” (Raphaela Mueller)
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March 26
18For the message about the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God. 19For it is written,
1 Corinthians 1:18-19
“I will destroy the wisdom of the wise,
and the discernment of the discerning I will thwart.”
Christians sometimes talk about being “saved” as if it is a past reality. A fait accompli. At some point in the past, Jesus saved me. Now I am saved. And then the corollary question: Have you been saved? Some can name the day and the hour.
Interestingly, the Apostle Paul uses a different grammatical form when talking about the experience of salvation. He uses a gerund in the present tense in speaking of those of “us who are being saved” (v.18). I.e. the saving, it’s still happening, it’s still in process.
One would think that Paul would have better reasons than most to talk about his salvation as a past tense reality. We know the story from the book of Acts when the zealous fundamentalist, this persecutor of Christians, was knocked off his high horse by the risen Christ, struck blind, and his whole life turned around. He was saved.
But here he is including himself in the “us” who are “being saved” — right now.
What’s more, he doesn’t speak of the “others” — the outsiders — as people who are “lost” or “damned” in the past perfect, some sadly completed action no one can do anything about, “Oh, too bad for them…” No, he is, once again, speaking of a reality that is happening as we speak: “those who are perishing…”
Do you see HOW DIFFERENT this way of speaking is from the grammar of so much Christian talk about static eternal categories of “lost” and “found”, of “damned” and “saved”???!!
“Look, now is the acceptable time; look, now is the day of salvation!” (2 Cor 6:2b). Christ is, right now, in the process of drawing “all people” to himself (John 12:32).
Whatever saving God is doing in Christ, it’s happening right now. And God is not finished yet. And whatever perishing that’s going on, it’s also happening right now.
You are perishing, at least biologically speaking: your cells’ regeneration is slowing, aging is making itself increasingly known. Every day you are confronted a little more with your own finitude. This is most certainly true.
You are also perishing in your sins. The intransigent habits that keep rearing their ugly head… You know, the ones you got pretty good at disguising, the ones you don’t talk about all that much, the ones you like to sweep under the rug — they are grinding you down, slowly but surely. This is most certainly true.
But you are also being saved. Christ has come into your life, forgiving your sins, kicking the devil out of your domain, calling out your sins, and taking away your shame by the humiliation of his cross. He frees you. He feeds you. He loves you. He gives you his own, new life. Eternal life. Now.
You are being saved by the power of God. The Spirit is alive in you. It’s hard to explain. If you told some people, the would think you’re crazy. But it’s real. God lives in you and is cleaning house, and is raising you from your daily death, and is making all things new. This is most certainly true.
It’s not that we are saved — it’s that we are being saved. This biblically inspired reframing can help us be a little bit more humble about our own salvation, and a little bit less bullish about someone else’s damnation. Thing is, we don’t know all that God is up to. But we know it is good, and the devil doesn’t stand a chance. (Robin Lutjohann)
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March 25
7How precious is your steadfast love, O God!
Psalm 36:7-10
All people may take refuge in the shadow of your wings.
8They feast on the abundance of your house,
and you give them drink from the river of your delights.
9For with you is the fountain of life;
in your light we see light.
10O continue your steadfast love to those who know you,
and your salvation to the upright of heart!
Holy Week has begun. This week-long Christian tradition is meant to help us trace Jesus’ steps and walk with him through the last days of his life. We begin with a festive palm procession to observe his arrival in Jerusalem. We remember the last supper by repeating his words of promise and practicing his command of love in the symbolic action of foot washing on Maundy Thursday. On Good Friday, we hear John’s account of the passion and enter into a solemn silence. And on Sunday we shout “Alleluia” as we remember his triumphant rising from the grave.
We do this because the life, words, death, and resurrection of Jesus are the way we understand the heart and nature of God. Through him, we see God clearly. Or as the psalm says, “in your light we see light” (v. 9).
He is the “true light, which enlightens everyone” (John 1:9). But in order to recognize this true light, we have to expose ourselves to his rays and feel his warmth. This is not easy, as we live in a world that has what you might call spiritual light pollution. Many sources of artificial light pretend to be the real thing. By getting to know Jesus and walking closely with him we can begin to distinguish true from false.
There are, for instance, many kinds of power in the world. The mighty of this world flex their muscles and display their strength through exercising violence, moving money, or amassing and distributing information. In the ancient world, chariots were the ultimate war machine. But true power was on display in the king who rides into the city on a humble donkey. Turns out, “The war horse is a vain hope for victory…” (Ps 33:17) But love and truth will win the day. In his light, we see light.
There are also many kinds of love in the world. How quick we are to use the word “love” to describe all kinds of affections, attachments, inclinations, and desires. But Jesus shows us true love when he bends down and washes the feet of his disciples, and when he is lifted onto the cross and, from there, forgives his enemies. In his light, we see light.
We cannot perceive the true light on our own. The eyes of our heart deceive us. We need Christ’s example. But that’s not enough. Even more: we need his light to shine on us. Then our cold hearts melt, and our shivering, cowering humanity can relax into faith.
Let your light scatter our darkness, O Lord, and illumine your people. (Robin Lutjohann)
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March 24: Palm Sunday
12The next day the great crowd that had come to the festival heard that Jesus was coming to Jerusalem. 13So they took branches of palm trees and went out to meet him, shouting,
John 12:12-16
“Hosanna! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord —
the King of Israel!”
14Jesus found a young donkey and sat on it; as it is written:
15“Do not be afraid, daughter of Zion.
Look, your king is coming,
sitting on a donkey’s colt!”
16His disciples did not understand these things at first; but when Jesus was glorified, then they remembered that these things had been written of him and had been done to him.
Remember the return of the prodigal son? When his father, this dignified elderly landowner – who normally had everyone coming to him – hiked up his tunic and ran to meet his son, and made himself the object of ridicule and consternation in the process? Here an entire crowd is doing the same thing for Jesus. “They took branches of palm trees and went out to meet him, shouting ‘Hosanna!’”
In the story of the Prodigal Son in Luke the text specifically says that the father ran to meet his son, which John does not here, but I imagine that there still is more than a little urgency in the crowd. Loud chattering, dust rising from the dry road under all of these feet, and a caravan of people visible from a mile away. Children might run ahead, half just playing and half excitedly trying to be the first to spot Jesus. Also, all of these people are abandoning their already time-crunched preparations for the Passover in order to go meet Jesus.
AND they take palm branches to meet Jesus and celebrate his arrival. Palm branches are the symbol of victory – military and political triumph – of freedom, and true peace. Using palm branches to celebrate anyone other than high-ranking Roman military officers could be interpreted a serious affront to Rome. So for the Jewish political, social, and religious leaders this is an incredibly fraught situation: they are trying to keep the already very fragile peace during the most important holiday of the Jewish calendar, when thousands of Jews return to Jerusalem and the tolerance between Roman soldiers and Jewish faithful can quickly break down.
That so many people all of a sudden leave the city with palm branches to build a parade around this young upstart preacher – whom they call “the King of Israel” – is a serious “oh crap” moment for the sensible, cautious leaders in Jerusalem. And we know what happens. The fire under their butts is getting a little too hot for comfort for these leaders, and they make sure that Jesus pays for it.
But I think that is also partially the curse of our time – we know what happens. We can look ahead, and we know how the story continues and ends. The people participating in the parade that day had nothing on their minds except the unbelievable joy, excitement, hope, and maybe even preemptive relief of Jesus, their savior, coming to free them from the oppressive, horrifying, scary, abusive regime that they were toiling under.
We, on the other hand, never get to fully experience just the joy or even just the pain of the Holy Week and Easter story – because we know what happens next. And I think that is the case not just in our reading, but in life generally. We are cautious, look ahead, anticipate the next development. Do we ever allow ourselves to be truly, fully in the moment?
Especially as we move through this week and beyond, to the anniversary of the fire, I invite us all (myself included!) to try to be fully present in every moment, every day. Today, that can mean unbridled joy and excitement – energy. On Maundy Thursday that might mean hesitancy and confusion. On Good Friday and Holy Saturday, grief, pain, hollowness, or feeling frozen. On Easter morning the entire cocktail of emotions that comes along with an entirely unexpected surprise. And on April 9th, perhaps that means grief mixed with hope and maybe even joy.
Some of these emotions will be easier to experience and hold than others. But Jesus and the people around him lived these emotions as well. Enjoyed them sometimes, struggled with them at other times, fled from them sometimes, didn’t understand them a lot of the time (today’s text says that “his disciples did not understand these things at first”), but lived them nonetheless.
Maybe we’re not quite ready to be the father of the prodigal son, willingly making ourselves the laughingstock of those who see us simply because we are overwhelmed by joy and excitement that can’t be contained in our bodies at the sight of Jesus. But I pray that – despite what we might anticipate this week – today we get to live unclouded joy and hope in Jesus’ presence, however that might look for us.
(Raphaela Mueller)
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March 23
14The days are surely coming, says the LORD, when I will fulfill the promise I made to the house of Israel and the house of Judah. 15In those days and at that time I will cause a righteous Branch to spring up for David; and he shall execute justice and righteousness in the land. 16In those days Judah will be saved and Jerusalem will live in safety. And this is the name by which it will be called: “The LORD is our righteousness.”
Jeremiah 33:14-16
Verse 15 uses a prophetic image familiar from Isaiah 11:1 (“A shoot shall come out from the stump of Jesse…”), which was poetically interpreted by the Advent hymn: “Lo, how a rose e’er blooming from tender stem hath sprung! / Of Jesse’s lineage coming as seers of old have sung…” The idea is the same in all of these: The lineage and kingdom of the royal house of David (and his father Jesse) is seemingly destroyed, a once mighty tree reduced to a stump, chopped down by the conquering armies of Babylon. The temple, the holy city, the country — all destroyed. The people — scattered. All seems lost. But, look! A tender green shoot comes out of the stump — a sign of new life. Christians ultimately identified these prophecies with Christ, a descendant of David, Lord of lords and King of kings.
I love this image of hope. When so much of our lives can seem like a forest of cut off stumps, we need this vision of an unexpected new beginning. This is what Christ brings into the cut off dead ends of our reality.
I was recently reminded of this image by the 50th anniversary celebration of an event largely unknown, except to Lutheran insiders: In February of 1974, Concordia Seminary in St. Louis, at that time the largest Lutheran seminary in the world, had been the site of a theological and ecclesial controversy. The seminary’s denomination, the Lutheran Church Missouri Synod, had recently taken a drastic conservative turn, and its leaders were determined to root out the “liberals” at Concordia Seminary — who taught, for instance, that evolution does not need to contradict the Bible, or that Lutherans should cooperate more closely with other Christians… You know, “heresy”. 🙂 With most of the seminary’s faculty threatened with being fired, students and teachers staged a public walkout in protest against the draconian heresy trials of the Synod. Led by a processional cross, they marched down the street and started their own “seminary in exile” — Seminex. For a decade, this fledgling seminary, blessed with teachers who were some of the Lutheran world’s greatest minds and energized by a defiant sense of purpose, churned out students who tended to have an above average grasp of theology and liturgical studies. A disproportionate number of my best elders in ministry came out of the Seminex experience, including our own Don Larsen.
The symbol chosen by Seminex as its logo was the stump of Jesse, with a cruciform branch growing out of it. Because sometimes, it is the experience of discontinuity, exile, expulsion, fragmentation, and hardship that births new creativity and insight more than anything else can. But even more importantly: it is Christ and his humiliation and exaltation on the cross that paradoxically brought the lineage of David to its greatest glory and fulfillment. None of the palaces of David can compare to the kingdom of heaven, and the wisdom of his son Solomon is puny in comparison to the Wisdom of the Cross, and the armies of Israel have nothing on the heavenly host singing “Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!”
One more thing to note about this passage: The green branch of hope, growing out of the stump, is given a name by Jeremiah: “The LORD is our righteousness.” Indeed, this is our only hope: when we despair of our own self-contained efforts at being good enough — and open ourselves in faith to God in Christ, who fulfills all righteousness on our behalf, dies in our stead, and pours his own life into our hearts by the Spirit, so that we can say with the Apostle Paul: “I have been crucified with Christ, and it is no longer I who live, but it is Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by the faith of the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.” (Galatians 2:19b-20)
So, if you ever find yourself despairing of yourself or of the world, think of that little green branch growing out of a dead stump. And spring is springing up in the northern hemisphere, let every green shoot and every flower be a sermon to you of this great and good news. (Robin Lutjohann)
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March 22
12Therefore, my beloved, just as you have always obeyed me, not only in my presence, but much more now in my absence, work out your own salvation with fear and trembling; 13for it is God who is at work in you, enabling you both to will and to work for his good pleasure. 14Do all things without murmuring and arguing, 15so that you may be blameless and innocent, children of God without blemish in the midst of a crooked and perverse generation, in which you shine like stars in the world. 16It is by your holding fast to the word of life that I can boast on the day of Christ that I did not run in vain or labor in vain. 17But even if I am being poured out as a libation over the sacrifice and the offering of your faith, I am glad and rejoice with all of you — 18and in the same way you also must be glad and rejoice with me.
Philippians 2:12-18
I love the image of “shining like stars in the world” that Paul gives the congregation in Philippi in today’s reading – for numerous reasons. First, of course, there are millions of stars in the sky, each their own entity with their own dedicated spot. Similarly, no matter how many Christians there are in the world, each one is a shining star in their individual time and space, at the same time that they are part of this enormous whole, the entire night sky shining for all people to see.
Second, in times when it seems like it is completely dark and impossible to see the path we are on, the night sky can usually still provide enough light to actually see where we are going (even the thickest clouds eventually disperse). Not only that, but societies all around the globe, even those who had never met before, figured out how to use the stars and constellations for navigation, annual planning for agriculture, hunting, secular and sacred festivals, and so much more.
Even if we think we have nothing else in common, we more than likely come from a place or a society where the stars play (or used to play) an important role. Especially in a large, important, cosmopolitan trading city like Philippi, with its incredibly diverse population and visitors, being able to establish such connections was critical both for economic and professional purposes, as well as for attracting converts and growing the local congregation or sending the faith in Christ further out into the world.
And, of course, for people like Paul, who were imprisoned for their faith at the time that he wrote this letter, being able to rely on a congregation like the one at Philippi both for spiritual and material support would have offered the ultimate stars of hope shining into the darkness of his prison cell. I imagine that whenever he was able to see the sky through his tiny cell window, he would have thought of the faithful in Philippi, and prayed for them and their steadfastness.
In our time, especially in a city like Boston it is often difficult to see more than a handful of stars at a time. But they are still there. Similarly, other Christians may not be as easily identifiable as they might once have been, but they are still there. We are part of this sparkling night sky of God’s faithful throughout all the generations of the past 2,000 years – a Milky Way of millions of others pointing and guiding us toward Christ. I am excited and happy to be one of these many millions of stars, alongside all of you!
(Raphaela Mueller)
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March 20
1in the seventh month, on the twenty-first day of the month, the word of the LORD came by the prophet Haggai, saying: 2Speak now to Zerubbabel son of Shealtiel, governor of Judah, and to Joshua son of Jehozadak, the high priest, and to the remnant of the people, and say, 3Who is left among you that saw this house in its former glory? How does it look to you now? Is it not in your sight as nothing? 4Yet now take courage, O Zerubbabel, says the LORD; take courage, O Joshua, son of Jehozadak, the high priest; take courage, all you people of the land, says the LORD; work, for I am with you, says the LORD of hosts, 5according to the promise that I made you when you came out of Egypt. My spirit abides among you; do not fear. 6For thus says the LORD of hosts: Once again, in a little while, I will shake the heavens and the earth and the sea and the dry land; 7and I will shake all the nations, so that the treasure of all nations shall come, and I will fill this house with splendor, says the LORD of hosts. 8The silver is mine, and the gold is mine, says the LORD of hosts. 9The latter splendor of this house shall be greater than the former, says the LORD of hosts; and in this place I will give prosperity, says the LORD of hosts.
Haggai 2:1-9, 20-23
20The word of the LORD came a second time to Haggai on the twenty-fourth day of the month: 21Speak to Zerubbabel, governor of Judah, saying, I am about to shake the heavens and the earth, 22and to overthrow the throne of kingdoms; I am about to destroy the strength of the kingdoms of the nations, and overthrow the chariots and their riders; and the horses and their riders shall fall, every one by the sword of a comrade. 23On that day, says the LORD of hosts, I will take you, O Zerubbabel my servant, son of Shealtiel, says the LORD, and make you like a signet ring; for I have chosen you, says the LORD of hosts.
It strikes me that the people who are the recipients of Haggai’s oracles and messages are so very similar to us. These people are the exiles who have returned from Babylon to the area in and around Jerusalem, where they encounter the ruins of the city and the temple. We, too, are currently in a sort of exile (although it is not an exact overlap), and we have to endure the sight of the ruins of our former worship space.
Haggai’s audience is in the process of reconstructing the temple, and yet several times throughout that process they lose hope and sight of the ultimate goal, and return to working on rebuilding their own individual homes rather than cooperating on rebuilding the temple. For us, too, losing hope or energy at various points of this long rebuilding process is a very real danger – we have to be aware of that danger and help protect each other from it.
Throughout the hopelessness at the sight of the pile of rubble that used to be their temple, Haggai is the prophet who offers God’s messages to the people and leaders around him. And – shockingly, given the track record of prophets being mistreated by the people – these leaders and laypeople listen, return to the temple site, and work together to rebuild the temple. As a result, they live in a community that is entirely suffused with God’s love and grace.
Now, Haggai admittedly conveniently glosses over any difficulties that came up during the reconstruction process, or the unbelievably hard work required to rebuild the temple to its former glory, with a fraction of the people who worked on the temple the first time around.
But God is still with us in our rebuilding process too, no matter how hard it might end up being. It will be hard sometimes to hear and trust God over the next few years, but Haggai shows us how we can listen and hear God. As so often in the Bible, God has already provided us with the guidance and example we need in order to serve God and each other in the love we have received from God.
When times get tough, may we hear the words of God spoken through Haggai and remember whose people we are, and who is guiding us.
(For those of you who attended last week’s Vespers service, I apologize – I confused the background for the final chapters of Isaiah and Haggai. These prophets did write very close to each other, within about 30 years of each other. Haggai, one of the shortest books in the Bible, was written down first, around 520 B.C.E., in order to encourage the people Israel to focus on rebuilding the Temple. Haggai’s focus was very narrow, and the Hebrew Bible only records four revelations that Haggai received, all directly related to the rebuilding of the temple. The last third of Isaiah, on the other hand, is estimated to have been written in about 490 B.C.E., and offers a much more broad picture of hope for the people who are still adjusting to being “back home” after their time in exile in Babylon. So the two prophets did speak and write in somewhat similar circumstances to probably two or three generations that immediately followed each other, but their purpose of speaking and writing was different.)
(Raphaela Mueller)
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March 19, 2024
16…and Jacob the father of Joseph the husband of Mary, of whom Jesus was born, who is called the Messiah. 18Now the birth of Jesus the Messiah took place in this way. When his mother Mary had been engaged to Joseph, but before they lived together, she was found to be with child from the Holy Spirit. 19Her husband Joseph, being a righteous man and unwilling to expose her to public disgrace, planned to dismiss her quietly. 20But just when he had resolved to do this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, “Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife, for the child conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. 21She will bear a son, and you are to name him Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.” 24When Joseph awoke from sleep, he did as the angel of the Lord commanded him; he took her as his wife,…
Matthew 1:16, 18-21, 24a
Today is St. Joseph Day. Let’s say a prayer and maybe send a greeting to all the Josephs, Joes, Joeys, Josephines, Josés, Pepes, etc. that we know and love in our lives!
The original Saint Joe was a descendant of King David, as the angel points out, calling him “Son of David” (a title that would alter be applied to Jesus). I find it fascinating that the genealogy at the beginning of Matthew’s Gospel traces the family tree of JOSEPH, not Mary, even though Mary (and not Joseph) is the biological parent of Jesus. From a modern point of view, we might say, “Then what’s the point of this family tree? What about Mary’s genealogy?” If Jesus did 23andMe, we might get very different names in his tree.
But we would misunderstand how the ancient world thought of parenthood. In a time long before genetics and the ability to “prove” biological parentage, everything depended on the father acknowledging the child. For instance, it was a father’s right in Roman law to refuse to accept a child as his own, even if he was the biological parent. This was not infrequently the cause of infanticide, when children not wanted by their fathers.
On the flip side, a father could recognize a child that is biologically unrelated to him as his own — and then all of society would be obligated to treat them as father and child, without any question of biological origin ever factoring into it. (Think, for instance, of Caesar adopting Octavian when he was basically already an adult, and then Octavian calling himself Caesar Augustus and being called “son of god” once Julius Caesar had died…) Everything depended on the father’s acceptance — or rejection.
So, for ancient readers in this patriarchal system, the family tree of Joseph was every bit as much the family tree of Jesus as Mary’s would have been.
All of this is why the role of Joseph in the Christmas story is so significant. Without his acceptance of Jesus as his son, not only would Mary have been in grave danger (as the text suggests), but the Christ child too might have had meager chances of survival.
So, Joseph plays a key role in ensuring the salvation of the entire cosmos, by being a compassionate and righteous man and by listening to the admonition of the angel.
Joseph, a carpenter by trade, was given the title “Guardian of our Lord” by the church and is considered the patron saint of workers. Personally, I also consider him the patron saint and exemplar of all the protectors and dreamers out there. You know who you are!
(1) To the Dreamers: Sometimes you might have been chided for “day dreaming” or for being unrealistic, starry-eyed, or too mystical. But God is looking to use people like you, who are willing to listen to God’s messengers, even if the message is strange and unexpected. Listen — and then act on it. Jesus shows us that nothing is impossible with God, by rising from the grave and defeating even death itself. So, do not let the world put a damper on your dreaming.
(2) To the Protectors: You who are called to take care of others — children, mentees, aging parents, clients, vulnerable neighbors and friends — your work is often invisible and under-appreciated. People don’t generally see or acknowledge the daily burden that is carried by those who hold a shielding hand over others, those who worry on others’ behalf, those who think and plan ahead, those who would give their life for others in a heartbeat. But know that God sees you and blesses you. And remember what our Lord said: “No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.” (John 15:13)
All of us find ourselves at some point in our lives in the position of a dreamer or a protector. When the moment comes, may we remember Joseph and like him trust in God’s promises. (Robin Lutjohann)
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March 18, 2024
9How can young people keep their way pure?
Psalm 119:9-16
By guarding it according to your word.
10With my whole heart I seek you;
do not let me stray from your commandments.
11I treasure your word in my heart,
so that I may not sin against you.
12Blessed are you, O LORD;
teach me your statutes.
13With my lips I declare
all the ordinances of your mouth.
14I delight in the way of your decrees
as much as in all riches.
15I will meditate on your precepts,
and fix my eyes on your ways.
16I will delight in your statutes;
I will not forget your word.
By far the longest psalm (and the longest chapter of the Bible) is Psalm 119. It is a so-called acrostic, an artful arrangement of verses in alphabetic order, with one 8-verse stanza per each of the 22 letters of the Hebrew alphabet. This “sacred ABC”, as some have called it, rehearses over and over the central topic of God’s Word.
The second stanza (beginning with the letter Bet) starts with a question: “How can young people keep their way pure?” Answer: “By guarding it according to your word.” (v.9)
As if to describe how this is done, the verses following this declaration are concerned with what remains a core spiritual practice for Jews, Christians, and Muslims to this day: The memorization and recitation of Scripture.
To seek God “with my whole heart” (v.10) means that I surrender not only my body and my actions, but my inner life to God — meaning, my mind, thoughts, desires, dreams, ruminations, and most profound concerns. One of the best ways to do that, to let God start to occupy your conscious and subconscious mind, is to memorize small bits of Scripture and recite them on a regular basis.
Right after the Shema (“Hear, O Israel”), the foundational creed of Jewish belief, we hear: “Keep these words that I am commanding you today in your heart. Recite them to your children and talk about them when you are at home and when you are away, when you lie down and when you rise. Bind them as a sign on your hand, fix them as an emblem[b] on your forehead, and write them on the doorposts of your house and on your gates.” (Deuteronomy 6:6-9)
And Psalm 1 attests a similar practice of internalizing God’s instruction (Torah): “Happy are those who do not follow the advice of the wicked or take the path that sinners tread or sit in the seat of scoffers, but their delight is in the law of the Lord, and on his law they meditate day and night.” (Ps. 1:1-1)
The word translated “meditate” in both Psalm 1 and our section of Psalm 119 is a verb that can also mean “chew” or “mutter” — it evokes the moving of a mouth, or the chewing of cud done by cows. Continued rumination yields a spiritual nutrition that people have experienced from ancient times.
In the ancient days of the church, John Cassian traveled from Eastern Europe to the Egyptian desert in order to learn how to pray from the Desert Mothers and Fathers, that enigmatic group of early Christian mystics, who had retreated into the wilderness to seek undistracted intimacy with God, only to mine psychological and spiritual depth that still nourishes the church to this day. A key practice he learned was what one might describe as “mantra” meditation today: Take a verse of scripture (he called it a formula) and repeat it over and over in order to (A) save yourself from distraction and redirect your attention to God and (B) have something to chuck at the devil when he attempts to attack you with temptation. It’s a secret weapon at your constant disposal. Casein’s personal verse (Psalm 70:1) was a cry for help that became the opening verse to the hourly prayer of the church (the daily office): Deus in adjutorium mum intende; Domino, ad adjuvandum me festina. “Be pleased, O God, to deliver me. O Lord, make haste to help me!”
I should note that modern practices of Centering Prayer in the tradition of Thomas Keating and Cynthia Bourgeault and Christian Meditation in the school of John Main trace their lineage to this ancient practice of the desert. FYI: the former is practiced by a group at Faith that has been gathering at Peace House (as they will tomorrow, Tuesday, again). The latter was taught to me in my student days in Montreal. This form of meditation can not only quiet the mind but become a way to practice trusting God in faith by surrender everything, even our worrying, wandering mind and the present moment to God.
What verse would you pick to be your personal formula or mantra in daily life?
Then again, others memorize not just a little verse but entire books of the Bible. If this seems unattainable to us today, that’s largely because our minds have not had to exercise their memorization muscle. But in other times and cultures, it is quite normal to commit long texts to memory. A few months ago, our friends at the mosque were honored to be visited by a Hafiz. That’s the title for someone who has memorized the entire Qur’an! And in ancient times, Christian pastors had to memorize at least the Psalms and the New Testament to qualify for sacred office.
These days, I struggle to memorize even a phone number. No wonder, since I don’y have to! My phone records it for me, along with the entire knowledge of human civilization at my fingertips! If good old Socrates warned that literacy and books would come the cost of the atrophying of human memory, I wonder what he would have said about the iPhone!
For a long time now, the dominant trends in pedagogy have more or less sneered at “rote” memorization as being the relic of a bygone age, when kids had to recite poems and dates on command, like robots, without engaging their critical faculties. But I wonder if it has to be an either/or choice. Have we perhaps lost something by not teaching the memorization of the Bible?
When centuries of Christian teachers recommend this discipline, who are we to spurn it? I remember a priest who was thrown into prison in Haiti under false accusations. He said the Psalms, which he had all but memorized from continuous recitation, saved his life by giving him something to think about and cling to in a crowded cell with no books and no creature comforts.
I encourage you to begin the journey, however haltingly, by treasuring even just a few favorite verses in your hearts. Maybe then we can say with the psalmist:
With my lips I declare
all the ordinances of your mouth.
I delight in the way of your decrees
as much as in all riches…
I will not forget your word.
(Robin Lutjohann)
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March 17, 2024
20Now among those who went up to worship at the festival were some Greeks. 21They came to Philip, who was from Bethsaida in Galilee, and said to him, “Sir, we wish to see Jesus.” 22Philip went and told Andrew; then Andrew and Philip went and told Jesus. 23Jesus answered them, “The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified. 24Very truly, I tell you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain; but if it dies, it bears much fruit. 25Those who love their life lose it, and those who hate their life in this world will keep it for eternal life. 26Whoever serves me must follow me, and where I am, there will my servant be also. Whoever serves me, the Father will honor.27Now my soul is troubled. And what should I say — ‘Father, save me from this hour’? No, it is for this reason that I have come to this hour. 28Father, glorify your name.” Then a voice came from heaven, “I have glorified it, and I will glorify it again.” 29The crowd standing there heard it and said that it was thunder. Others said, “An angel has spoken to him.” 30Jesus answered, “This voice has come for your sake, not for mine. 31Now is the judgment of this world; now the ruler of this world will be driven out. 32And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself.” 33He said this to indicate the kind of death he was to die.
John 12:20-33
“Those who love their life lose it, and those who hate their life in this world will keep it for eternal life.” At first glance that doesn’t seem like it proves that God wants us to live into the eternal life at this moment.
But apparently, the word that is translated as “hate” is really better translated as “reject.” With that change, what the second half of that verse is really saying is this: “those who reject the life that this world offers or expects for us, they are the ones who will keep their life for eternity.
“Those who understand that the limited life of this world – with its small scale, social isolation, lonely pain, and distance from God – can’t be everything there is to human existence and want the eternal life instead, they are the ones who will live with Jesus in God’s presence, honored by God.”
That understanding can free us in a way that nothing else can. We don’t have to play by the rules of this world, where success only means how much money you have, or how many professional connections. We get to play by God’s rules, where success is a life in Jesus, a life of compassion, love, and community with those around us, everyone regardless of faith, social status, or other defining characteristics.
Despite all the fear of this world, fear that even Jesus feels, there is hope, comfort, and healing with God. God comes into our world for our sake, calling and pulling us to Jesus so that this new world, grounded in love, compassion, forgiveness, and mercy can grow into our world like a tiny grain of wheat.
I love that we get this text now, halfway through March, when all around us things are finally starting to sprout. It’s like the resurrection is playing out right in front of us: all winter, these plants were underground, seemingly dead, but really just gathering strength to defy expectations, cheat death, and grow once again to praise God with colors and scents.
After a mostly silent winter, song birds are returning and filling the air with the excitement of new life. Even the wind is changing – from biting cold gusts that whip around buildings seemingly to punish us, to strong, warm bursts that wake up the earth. God’s creation is reminding us that God intentionally connected all parts of creation, including us.
And even when we are still scared or uncertain of so many things, like what the future of our congregation might look like, God is with us, and by glorifying God’s name guides us through the uncertainty and changes, just like they led Jesus. May this knowledge of God’s presence sustain us through the roller coaster of emotions and finally terror of Holy Week, and into the bubbly excitement of Easter morning and through the rest of the year. (Raphaela)
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March 16, 2024
1Six days before the Passover Jesus came to Bethany, the home of Lazarus, whom he had raised from the dead. 2There they gave a dinner for him. Martha served, and Lazarus was one of those at the table with him. 3Mary took a pound of costly perfume made of pure nard, anointed Jesus’ feet, and wiped them with her hair. The house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume. 4But Judas Iscariot, one of his disciples (the one who was about to betray him), said, 5Why was this perfume not sold for three hundred denarii and the money given to the poor? 6(He said this not because he cared about the poor, but because he was a thief; he kept the common purse and used to steal what was put into it.) 7Jesus said, “Leave her alone. She bought it so that she might keep it for the day of my burial. 8You always have the poor with you, but you do not always have me.”
John 12:1-9
The last sentence in this section sounds strange and harsh coming from the mouth of Jesus, who treated especially the people on the margins of society with such grace and love. Why would he now say, “Eh, whatever, poor people are always gonna be around. But me, I’m super special, so don’t worry about the money, I am worth it.”
That may be what you hear in these words. But listen again. He says, “You always have the poor with you…” I suspect he is not saying this dismissively, but affirmatively. This is not a throwaway statement but a mission statement. Note that he’s not saying, “There are are always some poor people in society…” He is saying, “You always have the poor WITH YOU.” Jesus is pointing out something that was true about the community of his disciples: They were in direct solidarity and relationship with people experiencing poverty. In fact, the early church included many people who were impoverished. That is why the letters of Paul include, among other things, a call for donations to meet the needs of the Jerusalem church (1 Cor 16:1–4; 2 Cor 8:1–9:15; Rom 15:14–32).
Jesus says this in reply to Judas’ cheap virtue signaling. Judas was masking his own greed and stinginess by pretending to care about the poor. To which Jesus basically replies: “No! You will not diminish Mary’s act of big-hearted generosity with your false concern for the poor. God provides enough resources for both hospitality and justice. The poor will always be with you, as those beloved by God, and generously cared for (if you are faithful). At the same time, I am about to be crucified and you will not see me in the same way after that. So, let Mary be generous and show her love for me. If you are truly a community that cares for the poor, then her act of love will take nothing away from your love for them.”
By rebuking Judas in this way, Jesus is also speaking a warning to us: Do we sometimes use virtue signaling to mask our own lack of generosity? Do we trust God so much that we can be generous and hospitable? Does our church “always have the poor with us”, in such a way that they will always be cared for and loved among us, even when we have other financial challenges?
Or do we fall into Judas’ trap and pit one need against another, as if we are all in competition against each other for a limited pie of resources? This is a faithless mentality of scarcity that has no foundation in the Gospel, especially for those of us who live in the wealthiest country in the world!
Yes, it is right to be wise stewards of financial resources and be careful in not wasting them. And yes, it is necessary to be diligent at balancing our budgets, thereby showing love to future generations.
But when I look at Cambridge, MA, this city full of gifted minds and financial investment from around the globe — a city full of luxury condos and innovative labs and gourmet foods and elite academic institutions — and yet also full of unsheltered people, addiction, and poverty — when I look at all this, I see that there is more than enough wealth and ingenuity to go around, enough to provide for the needs of all. That is, IF we are willing, and IF our hearts are trusting God’s grace to provide for us even if we give away what we possess.
I cannot help but agree with Jesus: Judas really got it wrong. Pinching pennies and becoming less generous with each other ain’t gonna help the poor. But the big-hearted generosity of Mary, expanded outward through the church into all of society, just might. (Robin Lutjohann)
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March 15, 2024
4:14Since, then, we have a great high priest who has passed through the heavens, Jesus, the Son of God, let us hold fast to our confession. 15For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who in every respect has been tested as we are, yet without sin. 16Let us therefore approach the throne of grace with boldness, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.5:1Every high priest chosen from among mortals is put in charge of things pertaining to God on their behalf, to offer gifts and sacrifices for sins. 2He is able to deal gently with the ignorant and wayward, since he himself is subject to weakness; 3and because of this he must offer sacrifice for his own sins as well as for those of the people. 4And one does not presume to take this honor, but takes it only when called by God, just as Aaron was.
Hebrews 4:14–5:4
“Let us therefore approach the throne of grace with boldness, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.” How many of us feel comfortable going to God with boldness? What even is “boldness” in this case, and what is the line between that and brazenness? I think brazenness vis-a-vis God is assuming that God is only there for us, and no one else – that God loves all the same people we love, and hates all the same people we hate. Brazenness is assuming that God has the same agenda we do.
However, to understand boldness I think we can look to cats, or animals in general. My cat, for example, is bold when she climbs into my lap, fully expecting that I will have time for her and will pet or feed her, or play with her. She is bold when she tells me that she wants to take a nap on my arm. She is bold when she complains about me moving my leg when she’s snuggled up against it (although that might actually already cross into brazenness-territory…).
Boldness before God is trusting and expecting that God will have time for us. Boldness before God is feeling comfortable to complain to God, not necessarily in order for God to immediately fix it, but to share with Jesus in the frustration, pain, and sometimes even suffering of human life. Boldness before God is knowing that Jesus has experienced the entire bandwidth of human life and can relate, and that God cares and will offer us grace and mercy in our times of need.
So what do we do with our boldness, and especially with the grace and mercy that God offers us? First, we get to share this empathy and understanding that Jesus gives. We get to share that Jesus has experienced similar things we are dealing with, and that he understands our problems. And second, being confident of God’s overflowing grace and mercy, perhaps offering ourselves and others that grace and mercy becomes less of a pie chart calculation, where we somehow have to split a finite amount of God’s love among all people.
Rather, we can offer grace, forgiveness, mercy, and love to others (and ourselves!) freely without having to constantly look at the gauge on the tank. Bringing boldness and expectation to the throne of God frees us to receive and pass on grace and mercy in amounts previously unknown. Especially now that we are getting closer to the hardest week and then the most joyous time of the church calendar, I pray that we retain that boldness before God, and get to sink every deeper into this immense love of God that surrounds us. (Raphaela Mueller)
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March 14, 2024
10Create in me a clean heart, O God,
Psalm 51:10-12
and put a new and right spirit within me.
11Do not cast me away from your presence,
and do not take your holy spirit from me.
12Restore to me the joy of your salvation,
and sustain in me a willing spirit.
In this famous psalm of repentance, King David doesn’t say “make my heart clean” but “Create in me a clean heart”. He is not asking for a repair job or a once-over, scrubbing down the ol’ ticker till it shines again. No, he’s looking for a total replacement, a spiritual heart transplant.
This is the nature and the shape of spiritual growth as attested in the Bible: death and resurrection. The old Adam/Eve dies, and a new creature takes its place (to use the imagery of the Apostle Paul). This may sound extreme. “Come on! I ain’t that bad,” we might (quite reasonably) protest. But if we are looking for anything less than rebirth, a total do-over, that’s because we haven’t been desperate enough yet. And thank God for that!
But David was. The prophet Nathan had just confronted him with the murderous, lecherous, evil that his corrupt heart moved him to commit, and David was taken aback at seeing himself clearly in the mirror of the Law. His response to being called out thus is Psalm 51. Read the whole thing. He doesn’t pull any punches. Here is someone who has seen the worst of himself, and it has scared the wits out of him. He has learned that he cannot trust his heart and his spirit one bit. It needs to go. A new heart and a new spirit need to be created by God’s own Spirit and take the place of what was before.
Like I said, you may not have found yourself in quite so desperate a situation in your life thus far. But you will. OK, hear me out. I do sincerely hope that you won’t ever sin as horribly as David. But let’s say you live a pretty decent life, a few regrets here and there, but all and all not so bad… Even in that desirable case, you will nevertheless reach a limit at some point. You will stare down the reality of your mortality. You will die. And at that point, nothing but a total replacement will do.
And that is what you will get. Believe this promise: God’s Holy Spirit will one day give you a new spirit and heart and soul… and a new body to boot! Your entire brokenhearted, mortal, tired, and sin-sick self will have been replaced with a version of itself that is every bit as much YOU, but completed. Restored. Totally healed and renewed and eternal.
So, why not get ahead of the game and start the resurrection right now by trading in your old heart and spirit for a shiny new set that Jesus already bought and paid for? I promise you, you won’t regret it. (Robin Lutjohann)
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March 13, 2024
15Whereas you have been forsaken and hated,
Isaiah 60:15-22
with no one passing through,
I will make you majestic forever,
a joy from age to age.
16You shall suck the milk of nations,
you shall suck the breasts of kings;
and you shall know that I, the LORD, am your Savior
and your Redeemer, the Mighty One of Jacob.
17Instead of bronze I will bring gold,
instead of iron I will bring silver;
instead of wood, bronze,
instead of stones, iron.
I will appoint Peace as your overseer
and Righteousness as your taskmaster.
18Violence shall no more be heard in your land,
devastation or destruction within your borders;
you shall call your walls Salvation,
and your gates Praise.
19The sun shall no longer be
your light by day,
nor for brightness shall the moon
give light to you by night;
but the LORD will be your everlasting light,
and your God will be your glory.
20Your sun shall no more go down,
or your moon withdraw itself;
for the LORD will be your everlasting light,
and your days of mourning shall be ended.
21Your people shall all be righteous;
they shall possess the land forever.
They are the shoot that I planted, the work of my hands,
so that I might be glorified.
22The least of them shall become a clan,
and the smallest one a mighty nation;
I am the LORD;
in its time I will accomplish it quickly.
These verses come from the third part of Isaiah, most likely written after the Persian ruler Cyrus had captured Babylon and allowed the exiles to return to Palestine, to rebuild their lives, Jerusalem, and the temple. And what amazing images the writer(s) conjure up: brilliance and splendor that draws all people toward Jerusalem, close relationships with the surrounding nations, a solid city and temple made from valuable materials, peace and righteousness living among the people, with the whole city bringing salvation and praise. God will light the way day and night, and the people will be safe and settled.
To me, this sounds like a promise for our time, as well. At the moment, we might be more in the turbulent, painful times that the prophet who wrote the middle chapters of Isaiah knew – especially when we look at the violence and trauma in the Holy Land. But that’s not the end. In and around Jerusalem there will be peace and righteousness, positive and close relationships with the surrounding peoples, and all the people in the Holy Land will be safe and settled.
We are definitely not there yet. It is almost guaranteed that more people will die, and my God, how each one of these deaths hurts, even when we will never learn most of the victims’ names. Peace, renewal, and restoration will take so much time and effort, and who knows who among us will actually get to witness such peace, renewal, and restoration.
But God has promised that it will happen. God has promised that nations and peoples will know each other as intimately as a parent and child, that all people shall live in peace, and that even “the least of them shall become a clan.” God has promised.
My Lutheran Study Bible says that “the prophets had an ability to imagine the world not as it was but as God would have it be.” In a time when few people can truly dream and picture what a world in peace might look like, the prophets can still help us do that.
Not only that, but we can remind others of the dream the prophets have shared with us through their writings. We can take up the mantle of the prophets, especially Isaiah, and help our world stave off despair by dreaming for and with those who are suffering, until finally God once again fulfills their promise of peace, restoration, and life. (Raphaela Mueller)
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March 12, 2024
6Now these things occurred as examples for us, so that we might not desire evil as they did. 7Do not become idolaters as some of them did; as it is written, “The people sat down to eat and drink, and they rose up to play.” 8We must not indulge in sexual immorality as some of them did, and twenty-three thousand fell in a single day. 9We must not put Christ to the test, as some of them did, and were destroyed by serpents. 10And do not complain as some of them did, and were destroyed by the destroyer. 11These things happened to them to serve as an example, and they were written down to instruct us, on whom the ends of the ages have come. 12So if you think you are standing, watch out that you do not fall. 13No testing has overtaken you that is not common to everyone. God is faithful, and he will not let you be tested beyond your strength, but with the testing he will also provide the way out so that you may be able to endure it.
1 Corinthians 10:6-13
Many people mistake the Bible for a hagiography. Especially those who haven’t read much of it — and most especially those who like to pretend they did. A hagiography is a type of biographical writing (graphe) about a saint (hagios/a). In the European Middle Ages, these biographies became increasingly fanciful and difficult to believe. The saints in them are often described as utterly flawless moral exemplars who perform outrageous miracles and extreme and self-punishing acts of piety. Martin Luther famously made fun of the cult of saints as it had developed by his time: fake relics were credited with miraculous powers, people were encouraged to pray to saints for special reasons (including some saints, like Christopher, the patron of travelers, who probably never existed), and stories about these amazing saints took the place of the preaching of the gospel of Jesus Christ.
I get why the cult of saints became so popular. If today’s fascination with celebrities is any indication, we humans seem to have a need for idolizing our “betters”. We want someone to look up to, aspire to, something to inspire us in our own journey. And in some cases, the people we look to for such inspiration may even be worthy of it.
But the Bible is decidedly not a hagiography. As the Apostle Paul points out in this passage, most of the “examples” found in it are actually negative ones. They are cautionary tales. The “saints” in the Bible are largely not worthy of emulation. From Adam and Eve onwards, we encounter story after story of people who lie, covet, oppress others, worship idols, fail to trust God, and deal violently with their fellow-humans. Most of the leaders and kings are corrupt, and even God’s own special people end up in exile and judgment for their transgressions. This is true of the New Testament as well, by the way. Most of Jesus’ disciples keep missing the point and end up betraying and abandoning him in the end.
So, when people talk to me about how the Bible is such a wonderful book because it is filled with stories of heroes and heroines who show us the way — an “instruction manual for life” (as some call it) — I have to suppress a chuckle and think to myself, “Have you read the thing??”
I would argue, to the contrary, that the Bible is so wonderful precisely because it isn’t a series of tales about moral exemplars (we’ve got enough of those already — and they’re usually leaving out some messy details). It’s about flawed people, who, like me, are in need of grace and forgiveness.
But none of this should be surprising. After all, “saint” (hagios/hagia) means “holy one”, not “morally perfect one”. It is God’s love that declares and makes us holy, not our ability to live up to expectations. As I like to say, a saint is not a perfect person, but a person who knows they are perfectly loved by God.
That definition also doesn’t completely apply to many of the (evidently faith-less) people in the Bible. Yet, over and over, we do encounter people in the Bible who, while profoundly flawed, nevertheless turn to God’s grace (usually after royally messing up first). After all other “gods” (self, power, money, etc.) have disappointed them, they are ready to stand on faith, with both feet firmly planted on rock bottom.
So, the Bible is not a hagiography in the traditional sense; it is a hamartolography, a writing about sinners, and only in this way does it end up being a true hagiography. Because the one qualification to be a saint is that you are first and foremost a sinner. (Robin Lutjohann)
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March 11, 2024
4Some wandered in desert wastes,
Psalm 107:4-9
finding no way to an inhabited town;
5hungry and thirsty,
their soul fainted within them.
6Then they cried to the LORD in their trouble,
and he delivered them from their distress;
7he led them by a straight way,
until they reached an inhabited town.
8Let them thank the LORD for his steadfast love,
for his wonderful works to humankind.
9For he satisfies the thirsty,
and the hungry he fills with good things.
Reading this passage, it is impossible for me not to think of Gaza, where the risk of malnourishment and even starvation is ever-present at this moment. I am sure countless souls are crying out to God for help, and yet the violence and suffering keeps dragging on as people perish.
We read: “he satisfies the thirsty, and the hungry he fills with good things.” But does he really?
To me, the most convincing arguments against God are those that point to senseless and unjust suffering and ask: “How could God allow this? How can we trust God if this is what happens? Is God even listening? Hello!! Is anybody home? Maybe it was all a fantasy to begin with.”
Interestingly, the Bible does not forbid or sideline such questions. Quite the contrary, it includes them.
“How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever?” (Psalm 13:1) “HOW LONG!!???” This seemingly impertinent accusation against the Deity is echoed throughout the psalms of lament (cf. 6:3, 35:17; 74:9; 79:5; 80:4; 90:13; 94:3; 119:84). The outcry of outrage and pain, demanding God’s intervention, is a prayer sanctioned and promoted by God and the Bible. No paternalistic intellectualizing. No theologizing away the problem. No smoothing of contradictions, or bailing God out with theological explanations. Just the raw outrage — the shaking of one’s fist at the heavens — uncensored and enshrined in the holy text itself!
For more evidence of this remarkable feature of the Holy Scriptures, check out the philosophical musings of Ecclesiastes, the agonized outcry of the Book of Lamentations, or the entire poetic counter-argument to the theology of retribution (“good people get rewarded, bad people get punished”) that is the Book of Job.
So, what? So, we are encouraged to lament. Ok. But that doesn’t help those starving in Gaza and those suffering across the world, now does it?
No, it doesn’t. But it might bring, especially for religious people (!), the focus of the question back to the place where it belongs: to us, here on earth. I think God permits and encourages our prayerful lament and outrage because God is not interested in pacifying or “solving” the problem of human suffering, war, and starvation for us. Instead, the Holy Spirit continuously reminds us of our our responsibility of our neighbors. Instead of unnecessarily theologizing the suffering of the world, God wants those who are already physically fed and satisfied to pay attention to another kind of hunger: “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled” (Matthew 5:6).
The last line of today’s text (verse 9) is echoed by Mary, the mother of our Lord, in her song of praise known as the Magnificat (Luke 1:46b-55), where she says “…he has filled the hungry with good things and sent the rich away empty.” But notice how she adds the second part to her quotation of Psalm 107. God fills the hungry by sending the rich away empty. She understands that human-created suffering has a context. In a world where there is more than enough food to feed everyone, hunger and starvation are a choice, one that is made by one part of humanity for another. The hungry are not some static phenomenon that we just need to accept as a given part of the status quo. They are hungry for a reason, because those in power are refusing to share access to food. Or, in this case, making it impossible to share by using hunger as a weapon of war.
I pray that God would activate our conscience, sharpen our awareness, and use our gifts and power to satisfy both the hunger of bellies and the hunger of souls. (Robin Lutjohann)
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March 10, 2024
14And just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, 15that whoever believes in him may have eternal life.16For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.17Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him. 18Those who believe in him are not condemned; but those who do not believe are condemned already, because they have not believed in the name of the only Son of God. 19And this is the judgment, that the light has come into the world, and people loved darkness rather than light because their deeds were evil. 20For all who do evil hate the light and do not come to the light, so that their deeds may not be exposed. 21But those who do what is true come to the light, so that it may be clearly seen that their deeds have been done in God.”
John 3:14-21
I want to take a minute to define “evil.” There’s the obvious evil, of course. Murder, abuse, abduction, robbery, war, genocide, stalking, that kind of thing. But we’re also talking about the more mundane, everyday kind of evil – things that we might not even call evil normally. Lying, even little white lies, jealousy, road rage, most anger, excluding others, bullying, not respecting other people’s boundaries, hidden resentment, pride, fear of the future, frustration with change, lack of trust in God’s plan, and so much more.
Maybe a good way to think about it is, “would we want the dentist’s blinding light on it?” If not, it quite possibly falls in the category of “evil” for the purposes of this conversation with Jesus. Unfortunately all of us, me included, also have our blindspots, areas where we don’t even realize that we are unintentionally hurting ourselves or others; those are part of the evil too.
And especially in our society, we are tempted to hide all of these bad things away. Particularly for work-related purposes but also in our families and friend circles, there is this pressure to always seem like we have it all together, that nothing can rattle us, that we don’t have problems and are always ready for more work projects or to take care of everyone.
We hide our mistakes, our negative emotions, our “evil,” and even the grief it causes us, until we explode or implode from the shame. This is true for all genders, by the way – men’s suicide rates are shockingly high, for example, because it’s so discouraged to go to therapy or share with family or friends when you’re struggling.
But, as always, Jesus shows us another way. God has another way for us. That way, explained in the last three verses of this reading from the Gospel of John, is uncomfortable, maybe even painful at first. We have to open our mouth and allow the dentist to use their blinding light to see all the hole-y teeth and inflamed gums. We have to open the invisible backpack of shame that we carry around with us every day, and allow God to see everything we have been trying to hide. Only then can the dentist help us heal. Only then can God help us let go and heal.
Again, that is probably super-uncomfortable at first, and we might be tempted to snatch our backpack out of God’s hands, to snap our mouth shut again, and to continue hiding because that’s what we’ve known and gotten comfortable with. Nicodemus actually seems to do that in this moment – after his confused questions he completely vanishes from the narrative. It’s like he fades back into the shadows, ashamed and sad, until he shows back up three years later, after Jesus’ crucifixion.
But often, a wound can’t heal under a bandaid – we have to take off the bandaid to let the wound breathe and heal. In the same way, after a while, I think the light that God shines on us can actually become comforting and healing. We can be honest with ourselves, with others, and with God about our shortcomings and mistakes. We can be unabashedly open and honest with the fact that we are only human.
And once we get there, we might even appreciate other other people and especially God pointing out our faults, because we can give them to God and continue healing. Here, too, Nicodemus seems to do the same. Once he has spent these three years processing and reflecting on his conversation with Jesus, he seems to rest in himself and in God enough that he is no longer afraid to help Joseph of Arimathea collect Jesus’ body in the bright light of day to embalm and bury him.
God is patiently waiting for us to agree to let him see what we are carrying, like a parent gently encouraging their child to let them carefully inspect a scraped knee or elbow. And God allows us as long as we need to work up the courage to open our backpack of shame – after all, it took Nicodemus from the very beginning of Jesus’ ministry all the way to the very end, after Jesus is already dead, to fully accept this bright light of God to shine on the infection and inflammation in his life.
Regardless of what we are trying to hide at the moment, I pray for all of us, that every day we can trust Jesus a little bit more, let God in a little bit more, and heal a little bit more. God loves this world and wants us to live in this love, without having to waste energy on shame. I am excited for us all to fully blossom in the open, authentic, and full lives that God wants us to have in him. (Raphaela Mueller)
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March 9, 2024
22They set out from Kadesh, and the Israelites, the whole congregation, came to Mount Hor. 23Then the LORD said to Moses and Aaron at Mount Hor, on the border of the land of Edom, 24Let Aaron be gathered to his people. For he shall not enter the land that I have given to the Israelites, because you rebelled against my command at the waters of Meribah. 25Take Aaron and his son Eleazar, and bring them up Mount Hor; 26trip Aaron of his vestments, and put them on his son Eleazar. But Aaron shall be gathered to his people, and shall die there.” 27Moses did as the LORD had commanded; they went up Mount Hor in the sight of the whole congregation. 28Moses stripped Aaron of his vestments, and put them on his son Eleazar; and Aaron died there on the top of the mountain. Moses and Eleazar came down from the mountain. 29When all the congregation saw that Aaron had died, all the house of Israel mourned for Aaron thirty days.
Numbers 20:22-29
From a Christian perspective, many of the laws, ritual acts, characters, and stories in the book of the Hebrew Bible (our Old Testament) are interpreted as pointing ahead to Christ. Understanding this can open up many texts that appear, on the surface, to be incomprehensible, irrelevant, or even appalling to current readers. It’s important to note that reading the Scriptures this way is not a newfangled revisionism — it goes back to the early mothers and fathers of the Church. It is also important to note that reading the Hebrew Bible Christo-centrically does not invalidate either their original setting and the intent of the writer, or differing interpretations in the Jewish communities that developed in parallel to Christians ones. It is important for us to have minds and hearts expansive enough to hold the richness and validity of multiple readings at the same time.
With that caveat out of the way, I want to invite you to read this strange passage about the death of Aaron through the lens of Jesus Christ, his priesthood, and his death.
Aaron was the brother of Moses and the first high priest of the Israelite religion. His role involved both speaking to the people on behalf of Moses and presiding over sacrifices and services at the tabernacle, the mobile tent that was the precursor to the Jerusalem Temple.
Part of the role of high priest meant wearing some pretty elaborate and symbolically laden vestments, which are described in detail in Exodus 28. This included, for instance, “twelve stones with names corresponding to the names of the sons of Israel” i.e. the twelve tribes. In other words, Aaron wore a symbol representing the people on whose behalf he was meeting God.
When Aaron was nearing the end of his life, he went up on Mount Hor, an elevation just outside the boundaries of the promised land (perhaps to be identified with Jebel Harun near Petra in modern day Jordan). Like Moses and (almost) all of their generation, Aaron was not permitted to enter the promised land, as a punishment for the sins of his people. (Not for nothing, we may recall that it was Aaron who led the effort to make and worship the golden calf!)
Before Aaron dies, he is stripped of his priestly vestments. His son Eleazar takes his place.
What does this have to do with Christ? Well, Jesus is described in the Book of Hebrews as the true “high priest” whose sacrifice and service (on the cross, his peculiar “altar”) has eternal effect and consequences. Quoting from the Psalms (2 and 110), the author states:
5 So also Christ did not glorify himself in becoming a high priest but was appointed by the one who said to him,
“You are my Son;
today I have begotten you”;6 as he says also in another place,
“You are a priest forever,
according to the order of Melchizedek.”7 In the days of his flesh, Jesus offered up prayers and supplications, with loud cries and tears, to the one who was able to save him from death, and he was heard because of his reverent submission.
Hebrews 5:5-7
Interestingly, Jesus, who is from the tribe of Judah, also has some Levites in his family tree — one of them was Amminadab, the father-in-law of Aaron!
Before he dies, this peculiar high priest, like Aaron, ascends a hill: Mount Calvary, also knows as Skull Hill, Golgotha. And like Aaron, he is stripped of his garments by the soldiers, who cast lots for his clothing. This is attested in all four gospels: Matthew 27:34-35; Mark 15:23-24; Luke 23:34; John 19:23-25.
And let’s not forget about Eleazar, the son of the high priest Aaron, who takes his father’s place. At the time of Jesus, a contemporary version of the same name was Lazarus. Of course, Lazarus of Bethany, brother to Martha and Mary, was a friend of Jesus, whom he raised from the dead. The Bible says nothing about what happens to him next, but church tradition has him become the bishop of either Kition (in Cyprus) or Marseille (France). Coming out of the grave with the shroud still around him (as displayed in one of the windows in our old church), he is an enduring image of resurrection and baptism. We are each Lazaruses, as Christ calls us from the realm of death into a new life. And he says to each of us, like he said to his friend: “Unbind him and let him go!” Freed from the fetters of death and sin, we are released into the world to share the message of God’s grace and love our neighbors in Jesus’ name. This, mind you, is a priestly service.
You see, a priest is someone who acts as an intermediary between a deity and the people — in both directions: The priest represents the people before God, bringing their prayers and needs and sacrifices, and shares God’s words and gifts with the people.
In Christianity, we have no priesthood that is separate from the rest of the baptized. Baptism is itself the only ordination any one of us needs. Sometimes Christians have forgotten about this and acted as if there were different levels of Christianity: lay people and the ordained. But since the days of Martin Luther, Protestants have reclaimed this biblical “priesthood of all believers”. Yes, we have ordained people, like pastors and deacons, who lead the church in worship and service. But they are not any more priestly than anyone else. Their baptismal priesthood just takes a particular shape. Because it is every baptized child of God’s purpose to represent humanity before God (through your prayers and worship) and to present God to your fellow humans (through sharing your faith and through works of love and faithfulness).
The Apostle Peter said it like this: “But you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s own people, in order that you may proclaim the excellence of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light.” (1 Peter 2:9)
When someone is baptized, they are often clothed with an alb, a white robe. (Infants often have a dress-like version of it — some are handed down as family heirlooms.) The people who lead worship on Sunday in our church wear just such a garment in order to demonstrate their identity as called, claimed, freed, blessed, and sent out members of Christ’s body — just like you.
Just as Aaron died for the sins of his people and was stripped of his vestments in order that Eleazar might descend from the mountain as the new high priest in his lineage, Christ died for our sins and was stripped of his garments, so that we could be clothed with him and continue his priesthood in the world. “As many of you as were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ. There is no longer Jew or Greek; there is no longer slave or free; there is no longer male and female, for all of you are one in Christ Jesus.” (Galatians 3:27-28) Each Sunday, we come to the Cross, to dedicate ourselves anew to the gift that we received in Baptism, and to eat and drink at the altar of God’s grace. And having done so, we descend, as it were, from Mount Calvary invested with a priestly mission: of representing the world before God and presenting God to the world.
So, dear priest of God, where is your mission taking you these days? What needs do you bring to God? What praise? And what gifts has God given you that you get to share with your neighbor? (Robin Lutjohann)
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March 8, 2024
7 In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses, according to the riches of his grace8 that he lavished on us. With all wisdom and insight 9 he has made known to us the mystery of his will, according to his good pleasure that he set forth in Christ, 10 as a plan for the fullness of time, to gather up all things in him, things in heaven and things on earth. 11 In Christ we have also obtained an inheritance,[a having been destined according to the purpose of him who accomplishes all things according to his counsel and will, 12 so that we, who were the first to set our hope on Christ, might live for the praise of his glory. 13 In him you also, when you had heard the word of truth, the gospel of your salvation, and had believed in him, were marked with the seal of the promised Holy Spirit;14 this is the pledge of our inheritance toward redemption as God’s own people, to the praise of his glory.
Ephesians 1:7-14
“In Christ we have obtained an inheritance” – an inheritance is typically something only a child receives from a parent, or at best from another family member. In a time of increasingly fractured families, the number of children who will not receive an inheritance from their parents or family members seems to grow every day. Especially those children who grew up in abusive households may very well say, “good riddance – you can keep your inheritance, just leave me alone.”
But that context in our society can also make it more difficult to talk about God as a parent, and particularly as a father. Who would want a heavenly father when the father (/parent/guardian) God gave them on earth beat or otherwise abused them? A justified, if uncomfortable, question, I think…
The important thing is this: God doesn’t make abusers do what they do, and certainly doesn’t approve of abuse, whether it be familial or parental, or any other type. God wants us to model our interactions with others on God themselves, but all too often, those in positions of power, particularly over children, choose to act contrary to God. So what do we do with texts like this, and prayers like the Lord’s Prayer?
Perhaps one option is to think of God as the perfect parent to all of God’s creation. Here I will refer to God as “he,” because that is how I think of him, for example – the perfect father. A father who attentively watches us grow up and grow as a human being. A father who is immensely proud of all of our accomplishments and just as sad as we are about our failures, cheers us on to get back up after we’ve been knocked down, is proud and supportive of us when we take the rest we need or say that maybe something isn’t for us, and can’t wait to tell his angels about all the things we’ve managed to do.
A father who cries with us when we cry and is there to hug us when we need him. A father we can talk to when we are struggling and ask for advice. A father who is always sober and never beats us. A father who doesn’t yell or scream at us or throw things or punch walls, but a father who helps us talk through our mistakes and learn from them for the future.
A father who is never too busy for us, who is always awake to catch us when we are spiraling, and who will always tell us how proud he is of us. A father who loves to listen to the same music we listen to, read the same books we read, watch the same movies we watch, and have discussions about them. A father who loves listening to our stories and will happily talk about politics and theology with us, and a father who can handle our doubts, our fears, our uncertainty, and even our anger without lashing out at us.
To those of us who have had the fortune to grow up with fathers like this, imagining God as such a father might seem self-explanatory, or perhaps overly simplistic. But when your human father was/is incapable of connecting with you, for whatever reason, accepting God as the father you always wanted and needed can be incredibly powerful and healing.
I pray that when we read the Bible, especially the Gospels and Epistles, we will recognize the full implications and power of being adopted by God to be siblings of Christ. We are not alone, and we are always fully, completely loved by God, our father/mother/parent. (Raphaela Mueller)
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March 7, 2024
17 Some were sick through their sinful ways
Psalm 107:17-21, NRSVue
and because of their iniquities endured affliction;
18 they loathed any kind of food,
and they drew near to the gates of death.
19 Then they cried to the Lord in their trouble,
and he saved them from their distress;
20 he sent out his word and healed them
and delivered them from destruction.
21 Let them thank the Lord for his steadfast love,
for his wonderful works to humankind.
These verses are a description of the life of faith from beginning to end.
“Some were sick through their sinful ways…”
This is all of us. Sin is the universal “disease” of humanity. It is that quality of being to be “curved in on ourselves” as Augustine said. Just think of some of the destructive tendencies in your life, especially the persistent ones. There is more going on here than simply “making a mistake”. If that were all there is, then you’d have figured out how to fix it, how to choose differently, long ago. But the truth is: our spiritual ailment runs way deeper.
“…and because of their iniquities endured affliction; …”
At times, we find ourselves under attack. Both from within, from our misguided hearts, and from without, from the world and people around us, we are under assault: a constant barrage of challenges and testings that shake our faith, hope, and confidence, that steal our joy, that make us doubt our fundamental identity as God’s beloved children.
“…they loathed any kind of food, …”
It can get so bad that we no longe nourish our souls with the true Bread of Life. We turn away from the Word of God, from the Sacraments, from the community of faith, and from the precious gifts and relationships in life that nourish our soul. It is amazing, isn’t it, how poorly we treat ourselves, when we stuff ourselves with nothing but spiritual junk, lies, and substitute gods.
“…and they drew near to the gates of death.”
From the beginning, the Bible draws a connection between sin and death. This is not accident: It is the fear of death that brings out some of humanity’s worst qualities. And it is the outgrowths of sin that has brought so much death and destruction into our world. The signs of decay and chaos are all around us. But remember this: “the gates of hell shall note prevail…”!
“Then they cried to the Lord in their trouble, and he saved them from their distress; …“
Trusting in this promise, we remember the way to life (why do we keep forgetting???): We cry out to God, like a baby in the crib to her parents who are sleeping in the next room. Prayer is the embodiment of faith. And the most basic and simple prayer is: “Help!”
“…he sent out his word and healed them and delivered them from destruction.”
“In the begging was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word as God… he became flesh and dwelled among us…” The Word of God is none other than Christ Jesus himself. The many ways in which Jesus encounters you in your life is proof that your cries have not fallen on deaf ears. After all, “Jesus” means “the Lord is salvation”. He heals our deepest wounds and pulls us out from the wreckage of our lives.
“Let them thank the Lord for his steadfast love, for his wonderful works to humankind.”
The lives of love and generosity we now get to live are a grateful response to God’s acts of healing and rescue. The sacrament of Communion is also called Eucharist, which comes from the Greek word eucharistia, meaning “thanksgiving”. When we celebrate this sacrament, we bring bread and wine, along with money and other material goods to the altar. These symbolize our entire lives, which we offer up to God, not as a bargaining chip to receive God’s grace in return — that’s free! — but in gratitude. Given back to God, the substance of our lives — our relationships, vocations, work, rest, play, interested, talents, hopes, skills, inclinations, tastes, and adventures — these all are transfigured in God’s presence, blessed, and made into Christ’s own body. And just like the bread at the altar, they are offered to others, broken and poured out as they may be, to nourish yet more children of God in the ever lengthening table of God’s feast. (Robin Lutjohann)
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March 6, 2024
15 Then they came to Jerusalem. And he entered the temple and began to drive out those who were selling and those who were buying in the temple, and he overturned the tables of the money changers and the seats of those who sold doves, 16 and he would not allow anyone to carry anything through the temple. 17 He was teaching and saying, “Is it not written,
Mark 11:15-19 (NRSVue)
‘My house shall be called a house of prayer for all the nations’?
But you have made it a den of robbers.”
18 And when the chief priests and the scribes heard it, they kept looking for a way to kill him, for they were afraid of him because the whole crowd was spellbound by his teaching.19 And when evening came, Jesus and his disciples[a] went out of the city.
After just reading John’s account of Jesus cleansing the temple on Sunday, now we get Mark’s recollections of the event. Mark writes with his normal urgency, describing Jesus throwing everyone out in one long sentence that uses the word “and” six times to connect the various sentence pieces. John helps us imagine the scene through very descriptive language; Mark, on the other hand, helps us imagine the scene by using very simple tools to describe the rapid succession of events of Jesus running around the outer part of the temple and throwing everyone out.
But what most interests me in this section is what Jesus says: “Is it not written, ‘My house shall be called a house of prayer for all the nations’?” A good number of us were at Pr. Emmanuel’s installation in Hingham in January; his church is called House of Prayer based on Isaiah 56:7, which Jesus quotes here, too.
It is an ambitious goal, isn’t it? By human standards at least – to create a house of prayer for all nations. Imagine everything that would be needed: so much space for worship, space to prepare for worship after a long journey, space for children to run around, space for bathroom facilities and for pack animals to be kept while their owners were praying,…
And imagine what visiting this temple might be like for our ears: so many different languages filling the courtyards; kids who don’t even come from the same places running around and playing together, learning languages and games from each other as they go; lots of different pack animals – donkeys, goats, mules, camels, yaks, llamas, horses, reindeer, dogs, and even water buffaloes – filling the air with their calls while they rest after the journey; the sound of conversation as people rest, share meals, and prepare for worship; hollering and laughter when families see others whom they already know; calls to worship at all hours of the day; maybe even music or other performances between services,…
Just think what we would see, too: so many different types of clothes and ways of dressing for traveling and for worship; teenagers sitting in small groups, deep in conversation and thought; people along the walls getting in a quick nap before worship; parents and grandparents nursing, changing, and rocking their babies, supported and helped by the rest of their groups and communities; young kids weaving between the legs of the adults to find their friends and play; doves flying overhead; people’s demeanor instantly relaxing once they enter the cooler, shadowy courtyard after days or even weeks of traveling,…
This house of prayer for all nations is a place where everyone feels safe and welcome. A place that everyone looks forward to traveling to, where even the difficulties of traveling don’t overshadow the immense joy of getting to worship God together with people from all nations. What would you be most excited for when you visit this house of prayer? (Raphaela Mueller)
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March 5, 2024
23 Thus it was necessary for the sketches of the heavenly things to be purified with these rites, but the heavenly things themselves need better sacrifices than these. 24 For Christ did not enter a sanctuary made by human hands, a mere copy of the true one, but he entered into heaven itself, now to appear in the presence of God on our behalf. 25 Nor was it to offer himself again and again, as the high priest enters the holy place year after year with blood that is not his own, 26 for then he would have had to suffer again and again since the foundation of the world. But as it is, he has appeared once for all at the end of the ages to remove sin by the sacrifice of himself. 27 And just as it is appointed for mortals to die once and after that the judgment, 28 so Christ, having been offered once to bear the sins of many, will appear a second time, not to deal with sin but to save those who are eagerly waiting for him.
Hebrews 9:23-28
The seemingly abstruse concepts and language used by this anonymous author to describe the impact of Christ’s death and resurrection might distract us from the powerful point that is being made: That the one sacrifice of Jesus Christ on the Cross is completely sufficient for our forgiveness, liberation, and peace. And that now no more temple sacrifices or any other sacrifices need to be made to reconcile us to God. As Jesus declared from the cross: “It is finished.”
This was a very important teaching for the Protestant reformers. It led them to reject any and all notions of religious rituals (e.g. Communion, prayer etc.) or other “good works” as “sacrifices” that were necessary to appease God’s anger or make us “right with God” as a kind of deal or transaction. Reading Hebrews and Paul, they began to teach that there is nothing you can do with your own power to “get right with God”! All that was necessary to reconcile you to your heavenly Parent and your life’s divine purpose has already been accomplished by God in the life, death, and resurrection of Christ. Done! Finished!
What now remains for you to do is to enjoy this free gift and trust the promise of your belovedness and salvation with your whole heart. When you do this, the Holy Spirit of God enters your life, and inevitably creates in you a certain “hunger and thirst” for living a more authentic, loving, just, joyful, and faithful life. This deep hunger for spiritual depth leads you to (1) confess your sin and (2) give thanks to God. We hear this clearly in prophetic critique of religion contained in the psalms…
For you have no delight in sacrifice;
if I were to give a burnt offering, you would not be pleased.
The sacrifice acceptable to God
is a broken spirit;
a broken and contrite heart, O God,
you will not despise. (Ps. 51:16-17)
Those who bring thanksgiving as their sacrifice honor me;
to those who go the right way,
I will show the salvation of God. (Ps. 50:23)
This, finally, is the only sacrifice God wants from us. Not a deal or a transaction, but us letting God give us what we need and responding to this gift with gratitude and love. As far as the Gospel is concerned, this is the appropriate way to talk about sacrifice and God.
OK. But why does this matter? Who cares? What does this have to do with our lives now?
Well, the problem is that false and transactional notions of salvation by sacrifice are remarkably persistent, even today. They may not look religious on the surface, but they operate the same way. Just notice how often societies turn to scapegoating or blaming certain groups for their problems, essentially wanting to “sacrifice” (deport, destroy, diminish…) them for the wellbeing of the dominant group. Nota bene: “holocaust” was originally a religious term, referring to when a sacrificial animal is totally burned up. The Nazis believed that getting rid of Jewish people, people with disabilities, Roma and Sinthi, political dissenters, and other people they thought undesirable, was a necessary “holocaust” to bring about a utopia of flourishing. We may not be Nazis, but how often do we tell ourselves strikingly similar lies in political discourse?!
Or think of how often we go along with the idea that we need to “sacrifice” ourselves or our loved ones (our wellbeing, time, rest, mental health) at the “altar” of a supposed greater good: a career, a cause, a relationship, a religion, a country… How quickly we can slide into this destructive ideology!
When politicians are eager to whip up the public to go to war, they will try to convince them that sacrificing the precious lives of young people is the only way to guarantee prosperity and freedom. (“The ultimate sacrifice.”) Or what about the people on the other side of the conflict? How many of their lives are an acceptable sacrifice for the success and affluence of our country?
But even in peaceful times, large parts of our economy and modern way of life are based on guaranteeing the “salvation” of convenience and affluence by sacrificing the planet (literally burning it up for fuel!) as well the bodies of our fellow-human beings, who languish in unsafe factories for the sake of $5 t-shirts and die in coltan mines for the newest gadget.
We have accepted this new religious sacrificial system of planetary, human, and self-sacrifice as normal. But Christ has not died so we could keep sacrificing God’s creatures in order to sustain a faithless utopia of indulgence and self-deception. Christ “has appeared once for all at the end of the ages to remove sin by the sacrifice of himself” (v.26).
Only his sacrifice can finally remove the barrier to a meaningful life and the causes that impede human flourishing. And it has. The root causes of egocentrism, greed, exploitation, domination, intimidation, and cruelty are nailed to the cross with Christ. It is finished.
What better time than Lent to give up pointless and idolatrous sacrifices and embrace the joy of Christ’s gift for us?
(Robin Lutjohann)
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March 4, 2024
How lovely is your dwelling place,
Psalm 84:1-4
O Lord of hosts!
2 My soul longs, indeed it faints,
for the courts of the Lord;
my heart and my flesh sing for joy
to the living God.
3 Even the sparrow finds a home
and the swallow a nest for herself,
where she may lay her young,
at your altars, O Lord of hosts,
my King and my God.
4 Happy are those who live in your house,
ever singing your praise. Selah
You can imagine the writer of this psalm, wistfully looking up at Solomon’s temple and seeing some birds flying to and fro around a nest, tucked away under the lip of the Temple’s roof. And rather than calling the janitor and having this blemish removed from the holy temple, this “son of Korah” (the musician’s guild at the temple) writes a poem about how even the sparrows and their younglings have a place in God’s house.
I am reminded of what our Lord says about the mustard seed (himself perhaps referring to a similar vision in Ezekiel 17): “it is the smallest of all the seeds, but when it has grown it is the greatest of the shrubs and becomes a tree, so that the birds of the air come and make nests in its branches” (Matthew 13:32).
The Kingdom of God, Jesus says, is like that: A shelter for God’s creation.
When the Jerusalem temple was built (and rebuilt), the architects included many decorative elements from the natural and supernatural world: palm trees, gourds, flowers, and of course winged angels (cherubs). And the inside of the sanctuary was lined with cedar wood. For a people who believed in the commandment to “not make any image” that’s quite a lot of images! Part of the intent, I think, was that the Temple was supposed to be a kind of mini replica of Creation, literally a microcosm. The sanctuary of the Temple with the ark and the holy of holies represented the cosmos itself. This is a principle that has been carried on in sacred architecture to this day. Every time I stand in one of those gothic churches, I am reminded of a forest with tall trees, for instance. And vice versa: standing amidst red woods in California, I couldn’t help but think of it as a kind of natural “cathedral”.
But why? Why imitate nature in the Temple’s sacred architecture?
Because the Temple in Jerusalem was not meant to be the final model. Ultimately, God’s intent is for the entire cosmos to be the dwelling place of God’s presence. The earth itself is to be the temple of the Most High! Jerusalem was just the starting point.
On the cross, Christ became the mercy seat, the altar of sacrifice, the holy of holies. The Gospels tell us that the veil at the altar ripped in half, symbolically opening God’s presence to the whole world. Thus was fulfilled what Jesus had indicated when he turned over the tables of the money changers — corrupted human religion is only ever a pale imitation of the real thing. No temples, churches, or other “houses of worships” could ever contain God’s living presence, the Holy Spirit. The body of Jesus, on whom the Spirt descended and remained (John 1:32), was the temple of the living God. Once he was killed and raised and poured out the Spirit into the disciples, and through them into an ever expanding and globally growing Body of Christ.
You are the extension of God’s living temple, dear one. Do you know this today? Through you, flawed as you are, yet holy by faith, God’s presence can reach into a suffering world with a message of healing and hope, the good news of the grace of Jesus Christ for all people. And this news will transform not only humanity, but the whole creation, until the whole earth will be united in “his body, the fullness of him who fills all in all” (Ephesians 1:23).
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March 3, 2024
13 The Passover of the Jews was near, and Jesus went up to Jerusalem. 14 In the temple he found people selling cattle, sheep, and doves and the money changers seated at their tables. 15 Making a whip of cords, he drove all of them out of the temple, with the sheep and the cattle. He also poured out the coins of the money changers and overturned their tables. 16 He told those who were selling the doves, “Take these things out of here! Stop making my Father’s house a marketplace!”17 His disciples remembered that it was written, “Zeal for your house will consume me.” 18 The Jews then said to him, “What sign can you show us for doing this?”19 Jesus answered them, “Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up.” 20 The Jews then said, “This temple has been under construction for forty-six years, and will you raise it up in three days?” 21 But he was speaking of the temple of his body. 22 After he was raised from the dead, his disciples remembered that he had said this, and they believed the scripture and the word that Jesus had spoken.
John 2:13-22
What comes to mind for you when you think of a mall? The Burlington Mall, for example, or the Pheasant Lane Mall in Nashua. What do you think of? Loud, colorful, busy, full parking lots, everything we need is right there, stressful holiday shopping with steep prices, lots of different smells, exhausting, lots of different things to look at,…?
How does it make you feel? Excited, anxious, worried about money, overstimulated by all the different music in the shops and children screaming, overwhelmed by the choices, hungry, bored because others dragged you along, impatient because of a doctor’s appointment, dinner reservation, or concert later, the bubbly kind of happy because you get to try all the different samples in the food court and at the chocolate shop,…?
From the John’s description of the temple when Jesus visits, it sounds to me like he’s walking straight into a mall when he arrives. Imagine the scene: there’s all kinds of animals – cattle, sheep, and doves – all of whom need food and water, all of whom have to poop, and all of whom have lots to say about being tied up or locked in cages in the heat of the middle of the day.
Not only that, but the people selling them must all have tried to yell louder than the merchant next to them in order to advertise their sacrificial animals and get them sold, and of course all of the money changers would have had to advertise their services and their “lowest exchange fee here!” in order to get pilgrims and worshipers to come to their table.
Children who were exhausted from the trip and now bored out of their minds were probably complaining to their parents, tired toddlers screaming, adults arguing about exchange fees and the price of the sacrificial animals,… Between the noise level, number of people and animals, the smell, and the heat it must have been a pretty overwhelming picture – almost like one of our malls (although our malls tend to be air-conditioned now).
Coming from the joy and the celebration of the wedding in Cana, where he got to dance, eat, drink, and laugh with his family and friends, the environment of that temple courtyard must have been quite the shock. Here’s the thing too though: especially knowing Jesus from the evangelists’ descriptions of him in the other Gospels, we know that Jesus was a faithful Jew who came to Jerusalem at least once a year for the high holidays.
He’s seen and interacted with this system in the temple before – especially since Nazareth, his home town, is a good 65, 70 miles from Jerusalem, so bringing your own sacrificial animals would have been inconvenient at best, impossible at worst. His family and his community must have bought their sacrificial animals from this “mall” before.
But something is different this time around. Instead of just tagging along with his family and village, this year he’s certain of his identity as the Son of God and he looks at the world in a different light, including the scene in the temple courtyard. And he sees it for what it truly is: price gouging that exploits the people who have no choice but to get their “Jerusalem money” and sacrificial animals there. Proof of the Roman Empire’s control over Palestine and even the temple business, since Rome appointed the chief priest. And finally just a mall that left the temple dirty and smelly at the end of each day, instead of providing a space of peace, reflection, and contact with God and other faithful people.
So we get Jesus’ fury. He puts together a make-shift whip out of cords, chases people and animals out of the temple, makes the dove vendors grab the cages with their animals, dumps all the money on the floor, and flips tables. “STOP MAKING MY FATHER’S HOUSE INTO A MALL!”
Imagine the end of that scene – finally there’s silence, feathers everywhere that the doves lost in their stress and confusion, tents ripped down, tables, coins, straw, and animal excrement all over the floor, and Jesus standing in the middle of it all, panting, with the whip at his side, while his disciples, the other faithful, the temple employees, and the Roman guards stare at him, completely aghast.
And then the questions and conflict start. “What do you think you’re doing?” – “You’ve ruined any chance for the pilgrims to celebrate Passover, now that they can’t get animals to sacrifice!” – “Who do you think you are?” – “Your father’s house? Riiiiiiiight. Give us a sign, then maybe we’ll believe you.”
Here Jesus actually hints at his death for the first time in the Gospel of John, and tells the people that he is the new temple that will be raised after three days. It is important to note that John writes this Gospel after the temple in Jerusalem has already been destroyed by the Romans. For that reason, this verse is probably one of the most important for his early readers, who are still reeling from the shock of that violence and are desperately trying to figure out who they are without the physical center of their faith in Jerusalem.
Sounds a lot like us, doesn’t it? The center of our faith may not be Jerusalem (at least not in the same way that it was for Jesus and his community) and it wasn’t destroyed by the Romans, but still, we lost the physical location that anchored us. In the stress and grief of this situation, it can be hard to remember and understand – as the disciples eventually did – what Jesus was trying to get them (and us) to learn.
But here is where this text is also good, even amazing, news for us: it took the disciples at least three years to understand what Jesus was trying to say with the whole, “destroy this temple and I will raise it in three days.” Between the destruction of the second temple and the time that John wrote this Gospel a good 20 or 30 years elapsed. But still, Jesus didn’t abandon either the first disciples or the first congregations for “lack of faith.”
And no matter how long it might take us to heal from the pain and grief of our loss, or how long we might need to figure out what God wants us to do now and how, Jesus won’t abandon us either. He still shows up for us everywhere in our lives, including, sometimes, in the middle of the mall.
So even and especially when our grief and despair resurfaces over the coming months and years or it becomes hard to hear God in seemingly endless discussions over details that maybe in the end won’t even be that important, come to church. In our worship of Jesus Christ, the Son of God, and in our fellowship we will help each other remember and remember together the incomprehensible love of God for us, and Jesus’ presence with us everywhere and at all times. (Raphaela Mueller)
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March 2, 2024
16On the morning of the third day there was thunder and lightning, as well as a thick cloud on the mountain, and a blast of a trumpet so loud that all the people who were in the camp trembled. 17Moses brought the people out of the camp to meet God. They took their stand at the foot of the mountain. 18Now Mount Sinai was wrapped in smoke, because the LORD had descended upon it in fire; the smoke went up like the smoke of a kiln, while the whole mountain shook violently. 19As the blast of the trumpet grew louder and louder, Moses would speak and God would answer him in thunder. 20When the LORD descended upon Mount Sinai, to the top of the mountain, the LORD summoned Moses to the top of the mountain, and Moses went up. 21Then the LORD said to Moses, “Go down and warn the people not to break through to the LORD to look; otherwise many of them will perish. 22Even the priests who approach the LORD must consecrate themselves or the LORD will break out against them.” 23Moses said to the LORD, “The people are not permitted to come up to Mount Sinai; for you yourself warned us, saying, ‘Set limits around the mountain and keep it holy.'” 24The LORD said to him, “Go down, and come up bringing Aaron with you; but do not let either the priests or the people break through to come up to the LORD; otherwise he will break out against them.” 25So Moses went down to the people and told them.
Exodus 19:16-25
In this passage, we see an illustration of a theme that was very familiar in the religions of the ancient Near East, including that of the Israelites: that holiness meant separation. As in: “Set limits around the mountain and keep it holy.” (v. 23) Saying that someone or something was holy meant that it was kept separate from the ordinary objects, persons, spaces, and uses of daily life.
If this definition of holiness seems incomplete to you, then CONGRATULATIONS, you are the result of 3000 years of critiquing and re-framing religious value systems in the Biblical tradition of Judaism and Christianity!
Many ancient temples, rituals, and texts conveyed the idea that the Divine is so overwhelmingly powerful that direct exposure to it would be too much for human beings to handle. (In fact, it was dangerous — just look at the story of poor ol’ Uzzah in 2 Samuel 6!) Thus, approaching a deity would have to happen in measured and controlled ways, through rites and priests and other intermediaries who could, in a sense, shield the worshiper from danger while receiving the blessing of the divine presence.
I actually sympathize with this idea. So much of religious practice in 21st-century Western culture seems almost overly casual to the point of being cavalier and disrespectful. (I know I am guilty of this too!) “Whatever! No big deal!” That’s what we seem to say, when we joke about “the big man upstairs” as if God isn’t actually present, or when we manage to make prayer to the CREATOR OF THE UNIVERSE “fit into” our busy schedules here and there (unless we’re too busy), or when we prioritize everything over the support of God’s Church, or when we shrug our shoulders at our own disobedience to God’s clear commandments of neighbor-love and justice. No, that can’t be right.
I like the Hasidic saying: “God is not a nice uncle. God is an earthquake!” There should be a little awe in us when we consider speaking with and being in contact with the SOURCE OF ALL BEING! We should have some respect. After all, we have all “sinned and fall short of the glory of God” (Romans 3:23), and we know that we will all be judged in the end. Meaning: every self-serving and callous action and every cowardly inaction, every moment of greed or arrogance or dishonesty will one day be exposed for all to see. “For nothing is hidden that will not be disclosed, nor is anything secret that will not become known and come to light.” (Luke 8:17) That should fill with us with some fear and trembling. And should lead us to repent and respect the throne of God. “The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom” (Proverbs 9:10).
To be sure, the Bible has plenty to say about that kind of holiness. But it also ties the overwhelming power of God’s holiness to an ethical mandate: Those who are associated with God should themselves be “holy” in that their just and compassionate conduct separates them from a violent and evil society. This was rather new in the ancient world. Previous to the Hebrew Scriptures, the worlds of ethics and worship tended to be much more separate. It is only with the Biblical ethos of personal and relational holiness that religious ritual and belief come to be inextricable tied to and in fact conditioned by ethical behavior — that being “holy” came to be used almost synonymously with being “just” or “loving”.
This re-interpretation of the meaning of holiness in the Israelite tradition was heightened in the critique of hypocritical religion leveled by the Prophets at their own people. Thus Isaiah spoke for God saying: “Look, you serve your own interest on your fast day and oppress all your workers.You fast only to quarrel and to fight and to strike with a wicked fist. … Will you call this a fast, a day acceptable to the Lord? Is not this the fast that I choose: to loose the bonds of injustice, to undo the straps of the yoke, to let the oppressed go free, and to break every yoke?” (Isaiah 58:3-6)
If this is more like what you mean when you say “holy” or “holiness”, then count yourself fortunate. You have been impacted by a profound tradition that managed to connect the religious impulse with an ethical demand. This has transformed the world we live in and continues to critique religious people like me for our hypocrisy and incomplete witness to the goodness and generosity of the one holy God reflected in the face of Jesus Christ.
It is through him, the holy one of God, the Messiah, Jesus of Nazareth, that I get to approach the throne of Divinity despite my unholiness. It was at his death that the veil separating the holy of holies in the temple was ripped in two, forever opening safe access to God’s unmediated presence for sinners like me. And it is a mountain far from Sinai, Mt. Calvary aka Golgotha (hill of skulls), that I will keep approaching together with my fellow-sinners. Because even though I have kept erecting barriers, God in Christ has broken through every one of them to get to me. (Robin Lutjohann)
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March 1, 2024
30Now when forty years had passed, an angel appeared to him in the wilderness of Mount Sinai, in the flame of a burning bush. 31When Moses saw it, he was amazed at the sight; and as he approached to look, there came the voice of the Lord: 32‘I am the God of your ancestors, the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.’ Moses began to tremble and did not dare to look. 33Then the Lord said to him, ‘Take off the sandals from your feet, for the place where you are standing is holy ground. 34I have surely seen the mistreatment of my people who are in Egypt and have heard their groaning, and I have come down to rescue them. Come now, I will send you to Egypt.’
Acts 7:30-40
35It was this Moses whom they rejected when they said, ‘Who made you a ruler and a judge?’ and whom God now sent as both ruler and liberator through the angel who appeared to him in the bush. 36He led them out, having performed wonders and signs in Egypt, at the Red Sea, and in the wilderness for forty years. 37This is the Moses who said to the Israelites, ‘God will raise up a prophet for you from your own people as he raised me up.’ 38He is the one who was in the congregation in the wilderness with the angel who spoke to him at Mount Sinai, and with our ancestors; and he received living oracles to give to us. 39Our ancestors were unwilling to obey him; instead, they pushed him aside, and in their hearts they turned back to Egypt, 40saying to Aaron, ‘Make gods for us who will lead the way for us; as for this Moses who led us out from the land of Egypt, we do not know what has happened to him.’
It might seem a little strange to have a “cliff notes version” of the Exodus story in the book of Acts. But when we go back to the end of chapter 6 and beginning of chapter 7, it begins to make sense: our verses for today are part of a long sermon by the first martyr, Stephen, that is recorded in this “first book of church history.” In this sermon, he describes and defends the legitimacy of faith in Christ when he is arrested and accused of heresy.
Unfortunately, his eloquence and angel-like face can’t save him and he is executed by stoning (actually, Saul – who later becomes the apostle Paul – permits and supervises Stephen’s execution). However, he does meet his fate with incredible trust and faith in Jesus, and in his last moments asks God to forgive his murderers, much like Jesus did in his last moments on the cross.
What strikes me about Stephen’s description of Moses in this sermon though, is that he emphasizes just how much Moses was not the guy the Israelites expected or even wanted God to pick for the job of getting them out of Egypt. First of all, Moses was the lucky bastard (sorry for the language…) who had escaped the eradication of his entire generation of Israelite boys. That alone would likely have been a reason for resentment, especially among people his parents’ age – “how come we had to endure our infant or toddler son’s dying screams, yet somehow, you survived?”
To add insult to injury, he then even got adopted by the Pharaoh’s family – the same family that had just ordered this genocide, mind you – and after being named and nursed by his own mother then got to grow up in the lavish, wasteful splendor of the palace. All the while, the rest of his people were being deliberately crushed, physically, psychologically, and spiritually.
And even in his adulthood, his story continued to set him apart and make him different. In an attempt to help his people he accidentally killed an Egyptian and fled the country for several years. While he was away he lived in relative ease (not as well-taken care of as in the palace but not lacking, and definitely not as abused as his people back in Egypt). He even married and had children with a foreigner. And then he suddenly dropped back in unannounced, rambling about how God had chosen him to free the Israelites.
What?! “Seriously Moses, what do you know about what we need?” Honestly, no wonder the Israelites weren’t too keen on him at first and resisted him so often throughout their wandering. And yet, God persists and God insists. He performs signs and wonders for and through Moses to convince both the Pharaoh and the Israelites that he truly has chosen Moses, and throughout their 40 years in the wilderness God keeps defending and protecting Moses time after time.
Now, another important thing to note is that Moses is also not convinced of God’s plan. Especially initially he begs God to pick someone else, citing especially his stutter as a disqualifying reason. And yet, God persists and God insists. He tells Moses to take his brother along as a kind of translator, and he promises Moses that he, God, will come along too.
Now, another important thing to note is that Moses is also not convinced of God’s plan. Especially initially he begs God to pick someone else, citing especially his stutter as a disqualifying reason. And yet, God persists and God insists. He tells Moses to take his brother along as a kind of translator, and he promises Moses that he, God, will come along too.
This brings up two questions for me: first, when have we been Moses? Sensing God’s call, feeling the tugging on our souls, but uncertain? I think especially in our society and often theology, women are often taught and socialized to doubt ourselves. So we do, even when it comes to God. I wonder whether the rest of this Lent, this entire month of March, can be an opportunity for us to follow God’s call when we hear and feel it.
And second, who has been Moses in our lives? One of the weirdos that maybe we even resent for being different, even if we don’t want to admit it? One of those people who somehow still let us hear God’s voice through them, in what they say and do? Here, too, I wonder – can we listen to God through them more intently this month?
God is still speaking to us. Jesus is still all around us. The Holy Spirit is still within us. But God’s voice is quiet, and so often God uses as a microphone exactly those people we don’t expect. Sometimes, that’s even us. What do we hear God saying?
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February 29, 2024
1The heavens are telling the glory of God;
and the firmament proclaims his handiwork.
2Day to day pours forth speech,
and night to night declares knowledge.
3There is no speech, nor are there words;
their voice is not heard;
4yet their voice goes out through all the earth,
and their words to the end of the world.
In the heavens he has set a tent for the sun,
5which comes out like a bridegroom from his wedding canopy,
and like a strong man runs its course with joy.
6Its rising is from the end of the heavens,
and its circuit to the end of them;
and nothing is hid from its heat.
7The law of the LORD is perfect,
reviving the soul;
the decrees of the LORD are sure,
making wise the simple;
8the precepts of the LORD are right,
rejoicing the heart;
the commandment of the LORD is clear,
enlightening the eyes;
9the fear of the LORD is pure,
enduring forever;
the ordinances of the LORD are true
and righteous altogether.
10More to be desired are they than gold,
even much fine gold;
sweeter also than honey,
and drippings of the honeycomb.
11Moreover by them is your servant warned;
in keeping them there is great reward.
12But who can detect their errors?
Clear me from hidden faults.
13Keep back your servant also from the insolent;
do not let them have dominion over me.
Then I shall be blameless,
and innocent of great transgression.
14Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart
Psalm 19
be acceptable to you,
O LORD, my rock and my redeemer.
Psalm 19 erupts in rapturous praise of God’s ordering will — God’s gift of patterns, rules, laws, and reliable structures — without which the simultaneously beautiful and horrifying world in which we live would be impossible. We would not exist! And so we spend our entire lives trying to figure out how to “play” by these rules: We follow advice on how to get in shape and stay healthy that is hopefully based on scientist’s observation of the the laws and structure of nature. We learn skills and and acquire knowledge, and maybe even some wisdom, as we keep living in this patterned world and begin to understand its ever echoing rhythms. We follow persons (including Jesus) and texts (including the Bible) as exemplars in order to live lives of integrity and success. And we may even do pretty well in all these endeavors, so that we can join in with the Psalm and say: “The law of the LORD is perfect, reviving the soul; the decrees of the LORD are sure, making wise the simple…” (v.7)
Thus, having finished marveling at God’s ordered universe with its natural and moral laws, the wise psalmist concludes: “in keeping them there is great reward.” Amen!
However: Quite suddenly, towards the end, the Psalm strikes a more somber note: “But who can detect their errors?”
Here’s the thing: At some point we human beings always reach a limit — of knowledge, of energy, of virtue, of love. We reach the point where the patterns, laws, and rules of this ordered universe actually turn against us, because we cannot keep up with them. And finally, the very breakdown of our bodies through disease and aging is nothing but another result of the inevitable entropy of this ordered system. As cruel as it sounds, sunsets and creme brûlée are part of a package deal that includes cancer and congenital heart disease. This beautiful and horrible world, which has God’s fingerprints all over it, both creates and ends us. Even worse, it judges us — because, when we are truly honest, we have to recognize that we have fallen short of the perfection that our senses have beheld and we have fallen short of the expectation and the goals we have aspired.
And so the psalmist finishes with a striking prayer: “Clear me from hidden faults.” In other words: “Forgive me, one who lives in a perfectly ordered creation, my imperfection. I confess the sins I cannot even see. I know my limits. I need your help.”
It is at this point that the psalmist has broken through to a different experience of God: God who is not only the Creator — the anonymously ordering Spirit behind all Being, the Unmoved Mover, the Force — but who is the “Redeemer“. Not something but someone.
What sort of someone this is, we learn in the story of Jesus, who lived and died “under the law” (Galatians 4:4), and who rose to demonstrate and share a reality that is strangely unbound by the normal patterns, rules, and regulations of this world. “For through the law I died to the law, so that I might live to God. I have been crucified with Christ, and it is no longer I who live, but it is Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by the faith of the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.” (Galatians 2:19-20)
I hope this sounds like freedom to you, because it does to me, and it makes my heart sing! (Robin Lutjohann)
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February 28, 2024
2 For thus says the Lord:
Your hurt is incurable;
your wound is grievous.
13 There is no one to uphold your cause,
no medicine for your wound,
no healing for you.
14 All your lovers have forgotten you;
they care nothing for you,
for I have dealt you the blow of an enemy,
the punishment of a merciless foe,
because your guilt is great,
because your sins are so numerous.
15 Why do you cry out over your hurt?
Your pain is incurable.
Because your guilt is great,
because your sins are so numerous,
I have done these things to you.
16 Therefore all who devour you shall be devoured,
and all your foes, every one of them, shall go into captivity;
those who plunder you shall be plundered,
and all who prey on you I will make a prey.
17 For I will restore health to you,
and your wounds I will heal,
says the Lord,
because they have called you an outcast:
“It is Zion; no one cares for her!”18 Thus says the Lord:
Jeremiah 30:12-22
I am going to restore the fortunes of the tents of Jacob
and have compassion on his dwellings;
the city shall be rebuilt upon its mound
and the citadel set on its rightful site.
19 Out of them shall come thanksgiving
and the sound of merrymakers.
I will make them many, and they shall not be few;
I will make them honored, and they shall not be disdained.
20 Their children shall be as of old;
their congregation shall be established before me,
and I will punish all who oppress them.
21 Their prince shall be one of their own;
their ruler shall come from their midst;
I will bring him near, and he shall approach me,
for who would otherwise dare to approach me?
says the Lord.
22 And you shall be my people,
and I will be your God.
I would not have wanted Jeremiah’s job. For decades, starting when he was still just a boy, he had to prophesy and warn the people of Israel of the consequences of their actions. But no one would listen, and those around him, his own family included, thought he was crazy or even a heretic. Not a fun way to spend your life… And yet, despite all the external resistance and even despite his own anxiety he did it, and spent the entirety of his career in service to God, telling those around him what they didn’t want to but needed to hear. Incredible…
So that’s where we get today’s text too. “Your hurt is incurable” – I am sure most, if not all, of us have endured seemingly or actually incurable, never-ending pain before. A shattered heart with pieces too small to put back together. Mountains of grief too high to get over. Physical pain so great even staying completely still doesn’t help. Shame so overwhelming it’s hard to look others in the eye.
Despair, anxiety, anger, disappointment, doubt, jealousy, or other hurt can blind us, temporarily or even permanently, and isolate us from others. Especially when these experiences are close to universal in a family, community, or nation, we are in real trouble – just like the people of Israel were in the book of Jeremiah.
We become fractured, concerned mostly or only with how we can make it through the next day, week, month, or year. We have barely anything left for those around us. We are constantly exhausted and no amount of rest is enough. We get sick, both individually and as communities. St. Augustine calls that “being curved into or in on ourselves.” Do you want to figure out how healthy (or not) a group of people is? Look at how connected or insular they are: more genuinely connected usually means they are doing better and are healthier. And vice versa – more insular often means more pain underneath.
And worse still, God sees it all. God knows it all. And God doesn’t mince words: our wounds are grievous. There’s no medicine strong enough to heal us. Those who used to love us have turned away, and we have turned away from others. For what we have done God has brought harsh punishment on us, and no one seems to be able or present to comfort us through what we are enduring.
“Because your guilt is great, because your sins are so numerous, I have done these things to you.” Ouch. Our shaky breaths betray how screwed we truly are. But then, all of a sudden God’s face softens. God says, “you’ve endured enough, and I will make sure no one takes advantage of you. I will heal you, you will be healthy and strong again.” Despite everything there is still hope!
Not only that, but God will lift us back on our feet – the city of God will be rebuilt in the same location, “and the citadel set on its rightful site.” We will get to sing again, and celebrate. It will truly be safe enough to raise healthy, non-traumatized children, and the people of God will flourish without having to worry about their future.
The people will be led by someone from their midst rather than enduring oppressive outside regimes. This leader will help the people of God get into closer relationship with God, “and you shall be my people, and I will be your God.” We know who this leader is for us – Jesus Christ. Jesus came into our midst, experienced all aspects of human life, including the pain, and understands what it means to be human.
And to Jesus leads us, through the pain and difficulty of this life, into the joy and celebration of God’s kingdom. And that kingdom doesn’t just begin after the end of this life, it begins right now! We are preparing for and helping this kingdom grow right now! Easter is the celebration of this incredible truth – Jesus, in his resurrection, brought God to us!
Over the next few weeks, on our way to the overwhelming, jaw-dropping joy of Easter morning, we are invited to pause and remember whose people we are. That won’t fix all of our pain, of course, but I pray it reminds us of the hope we find in Jesus, even when everything and everyone seems to be against us. (Raphaela Mueller)
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February 27, 2024
17 By faith Abraham, when put to the test, offered up Isaac. He who had received the promises was ready to offer up his only son, 18 of whom he had been told, “It is through Isaac that descendants shall be named for you.” 19 He considered the fact that God is able even to raise someone from the dead—and, figuratively speaking, he did receive him back.
Hebrews 11:17-19
There is no way to interpret the story of the almost-sacrifice of Isaac by his own father that doesn’t make us feel at least a little bit uncomfortable. I don’t want to try to clean that up. But I do want to lift up the point made by the author of the letter to the Hebrews: Faith in the promises of God can enable us to be fearless, no matter the trials we face.
In chapter 11 of the letter to the Hebrews, we are told about a series of heroes in the Bible, who all have one thing in common: faith, which is “the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen” (Hebrew 11:1). Abraham, claims this author, trusted in two hoped-for / unseen things: (1) God’s promise that his son Isaac would be the beginning of a numerous lineage of descendants, and (2) God’s ability to raise the dead.
We often assume that Abraham was distressed and anxious as he grudgingly followed God’s command to sacrifice his son. Films and images usually depict the scene kind of like this: A grizzled old man silently ascends a mountain, followed by his clueless son, with a dark cloud hanging over him. He makes a pyre, puts his son on it, and as he raises his knife, his hand shaking, finally God intervenes. He sighs a big sigh of relief that he did not have to perform the impossibly evil and horrifying deed God asked of him after all.
This makes for a dramatic scene. But it is not the picture painted by the author of Hebrews. Instead, here we have an Abraham who is so certain of the promise God made to Isaac and of God’s life-giving power that nothing could possibly happen to his child. He knew, we are led to believe, that God would take care of him. God would come through.
The latter version may be less realistic or believable, or even appealing. But it opens an intriguing possibility: Could there be such a faith that is so certain of God’s promise and faithfulness, that nothing could finally shake it? Could there be a faith so fully entrusted to God that it could whistle while ascending the mountain of doom? If this was true of Abraham, we can see why he is claimed as the “father” of Jews, Christians, and Muslims alike. Such is an extraordinary faith!
My life is very different from Abraham’s. But I do experience trials and testing on the daily. Nothing quite as dramatic as this, but real nonetheless. If I’m honest, I often fail the tests I face. And if I’m brutally honest, I sometimes fail these trials because my faith is weak and buckles in the face of resistance. When something triggers my anger, for instance, I give in to it rather than trusting God to take care of me through this aggravating situation. Or when I have to send a tricky email, I sometimes worry endlessly about how it will be received and anxiously await the reply on pins and needles. Rather than leaving the unseen future in God’s hands, I give into the kind of worry Jesus warned about (Matthew 6), the kind that can rob your sleep and steal your peace. When money gets difficult, I don’t turn to prayer but instead become ungenerous and stingy. When my health is not good, I whine and complain, rather than asking God for healing and thanking God for the help of medical professionals. Time and time again, my faith is exposed for its weakness by the trials of my life.
But there is good news for those “of little faith” like myself. Even faith the size of a mustard seed can move a mountain (Matthew 17:20). Why is that? Because my little faith is anchored in the big faith of Abraham’s most famous descendant: Jesus.
Unlike Isaac, there was no animal to take the place of Jesus at the last second. And unlike Abraham, God the Father did have to watch his son die an agonizing death. But by faith, Jesus endured the trials of his life for my sake. And by his Spirit, he has put his own faith in my heart.
If I can remember this and trust this, then maybe the next time I face a trial, I will do it not with my own shaky faith but with the faith of Abraham and Jesus. (Robin Lutjohann)
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February 26, 2024
37 Then he brought Israel out with silver and gold,
Psalm 105:37-43
and there was no one among their tribes who stumbled.
38 Egypt was glad when they departed,
for dread of them had fallen upon it.
39 He spread a cloud for a covering
and fire to give light by night.
40 They asked, and he brought quails
and gave them food from heaven in abundance.
41 He opened the rock, and water gushed out;
it flowed through the desert like a river.
42 For he remembered his holy promise
and Abraham, his servant.
43 So he brought his people out with joy,
his chosen ones with singing.
Psalm 105’s poetic retelling of the liberation from slavery in Egypt frames the Exodus story as part of a larger story of promise-keeping on the part of God for the “offspring of [God’s] servant Abraham” (v. 6). Their liberation from slavery happens because God is remembering “the covenant that he made with Abraham” (v.9). “For he remembered his holy promise and Abraham, his servant” (v.42).
Notice that the covenant on the basis of which God delivered them is not conditional. It’s not like Moses (who, by the way, had become a fugitive after killing a guy) or the Hebrew people had fulfilled some sort of standard that made them worthy of God’s saving intervention. It’s not like God was waiting for them to be good enough to be worth rescuing. All they did was cry out for help (Exodus 2:23-25), and God remembered the promise.
Now, after escaping from slavery and wandering through the desert, the people entered another covenant. Unlike the one God had made with Abraham, however, which was God’s unconditional promise, this covenant was conditional: “If you will only obey the Lord your God, by diligently observing all his commandments that I am commanding you today, the Lord your God will set you high above all the nations of the earth; all these blessings shall come upon you and overtake you, if you obey the Lord your God…” (Deuteronomy 28:1-2, emphases mine). The people were promised a blessing — if they followed God’s guidance, i.e. God’s word and commandments.
By the way, I think this is true for all of us. The Law of Moses is simply one particularly well-documented and celebrated example of God’s loving instruction (in Hebrew, that’s called torah) at work in the world. But the Bible itself acknowledges that people outside of the family of Abraham (from Job to Ruth to Melchizedek) were able to follow God’s “law” of wisdom and righteousness. Today, we continue to have many great teachers of wisdom and ethical living, both religious and non-religious. Not only that, we also have God’s instruction planted into our hearts in the form of a conscience (see Romans 1)! The same deal goes: If we listen to God’s instructions, then we will experience blessing and peace. This is the “if-then” (i.e. conditional) covenant of the Law. It was true for the Israelites back then, and it is true for us today.
Unfortunately, they – like us – did not succeed in this task. They broke the Law and reaped its consequences. The people disobeyed. They fell victim to the temptation of false idols, they practiced oppression and violence, and thus they experienced judgment, destruction, exile, and chaos. In this they were not unique. (Just look at our world today!) Reading the books of 1 and 2 Kings reads to me like a reflection of the total story of humanity in microcosm. Humanity keeps straying from its life-giving, God-honoring, neighbor-loving purpose. In other words, we do not keep the “if-then” (conditional) covenant of God’s loving instruction.
But much, much later, another descendant of Abraham, a Greek-speaking Jewish man from Tarsus named Paul, who had spent time studying with renowned rabbis in the holy city of Jerusalem, zeroed in on this motif of the unconditionally promise-keeping God of Abraham as the key to understand what the Bible he had studied was all about. He wrote that “the promise … did not come to Abraham or to his descendants through the law but through the righteousness of faith. … For this reason it depends on faith, in order that the promise may rest on grace and be guaranteed to all his descendants, not only to the adherents of the law but also to those who share the faith of Abraham… (from Romans 4, italics mine). In other words: our inability to follow God’s instruction (Law) might break all kinds of covenants and incur chaotic and unfortunate results… But there is one covenant that we can never break: A covenant first given to the Abraham and his descendants, the Jewish people (and never revoked from them, by the way!), and through Jesus Christ it was extended to the Gentiles as well.
This covenant is not a conditional “if-then” agreement but an unconditional promise. So, to reap the benefits of this covenant, all you’ve got to do is trust the promise. Relax into the trust in God’s faithfulness, and you will experience God’s saving action.
Before all the commandments, laws, wisdom teachings, and instructions (both those in the Bible and those on the self-help shelf of your local bookstore) — there is an unconditional promise made to Sarah and Abraham, and to all who, like them, trust in their promise-keeping God of life. It is the same promise that was fulfilled in the Exodus. It is the same promise that was fulfilled in the Cross and Resurrection of Christ. It is a promise that says: God will not abandon you. God will finally bring you to the blessing of life and peace.
Let us trust that promise in every part of our lives, even and especially when we crash and burn because we did not succeed at being wise or good or holy. Then let us cry out, like so many people before us, and watch what God will do. (Robin Lutjohann)
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February 25, 2024
31Then he began to teach them that the Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again. 32He said all this quite openly. And Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him. 33But turning and looking at his disciples, he rebuked Peter and said, “Get behind me, Satan! For you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.”34He called the crowd with his disciples, and said to them, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. 35For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it. 36For what will it profit them to gain the whole world and forfeit their life? 37Indeed, what can they give in return for their life? 38Those who are ashamed of me and of my words in this adulterous and sinful generation, of them the Son of Man will also be ashamed when he comes in the glory of his Father with the holy angels.”
Mark 8:31-38
In the second half of today’s text, Jesus calls everyone – not just his disciples, but the crowd: everyone who was following him that day – and tells them how to actually, completely follow him: “if any wish to come after me, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.” This is where the commentaries get really interesting.
Because what is the cross? It’s very frequently been interpreted as an anticipation of suffering, and a willingness to suffer. But one of the scholars on this text actually offered something else: the cross is the sign of a judgment. In ancient Palestine, if you saw someone on a cross, you knew they were condemned – judged – for something. Jesus’ cross, of course, is the sign of the wrongly accused, the innocent being judged wrongly by those in power.
But what is our cross? Maybe our cross is a sign of the condemnation that we should be able to expect from God for our shortcomings, our sin, and our brokenness. And often we go to great lengths to hide our cross and to bury it, don’t we? I think the most easily identifiable way of trying to hide our cross is just our typical greeting: “Hi, how are you?” – “Fine, thanks, and you?” – “Good, thank you!” Why do we do that? Why do we try to hide our cross?
Multiple reasons, I think. Pain, for example. Especially in this world and our society, if you’re not perfect there’s something wrong with you. And when you’re constantly expected to be perfect, it hurts to have to admit that, no, I’m not. Fear, too – fear of being rejected, laughed at, or yelled at for our brokenness and failings. Worry, as well, that other people are too overwhelmed with their own pain and brokenness to hear ours, or even that we’ll add to their pain. And all of those reasons then create shame. Shame that we can’t handle it by ourselves, that we’re falling short, and that we’re broken humans to begin with.
What if, by asking us to “take up our cross” in order to follow him, Jesus is inviting us to dig up our crosses, and allow others to see them? What if Jesus is inviting us to share our sin, our shortcomings, our brokenness, our pain, and our shame with those around us, in order to see and realize that we’re not the only ones struggling with these things?
It is hard to do that. There is so much pain already openly visible in this world that it’s hard to add our pain and brokenness to that mountain. But Jesus was crucified on top of that mountain of pain, in order to show us that we are not alone. We might not have Jesus in the flesh with us anymore, but we do have the people around us who are all made in God’s image, and if we share our lives – including our pain and brokenness with God all around us, we are once again reminded that we are not alone.
Is this a complete fix of everything ever? No. But maybe every once in a while it will make our crosses a little easier to carry, knowing that Jesus knows the entire depth of humanity, including our shortcomings, brokenness, and pain. I pray that this knowledge can be a relief to all of us.
(Raphaela Mueller)
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February 24, 2024
Jesus went on with his disciples to the villages of Caesarea Philippi; and on the way he asked his disciples, “Who do people say that I am?” And they answered him, “John the Baptist; and others, Elijah; and still others, one of the prophets.” He asked them, “But who do you say that I am?” Peter answered him, “You are the Messiah.” And he sternly ordered them not to tell anyone about him.
Mark 8:27-30
Because we live in a much more individualist culture and time than Jesus, it is easy for us to mis-hear Jesus’ question as an invitation to make a personal confession of faith. A “what does Jesus mean to me” kind of testimony. It doesn’t help that in English both singular and plural second person pronouns are the same, “you”. But Jesus is asking “you” in the plural: “Who do ya’ll say that I am?” He is asking his disciples as a community of people who have been – together – transformed by his presence among them. And even though Peter alone answers, he answers in a way that isn’t just about him and his own personal thoughts and musings. For example, he doesn’t say: “You are MY Lord and savior.” Or: “I give my life to you.” Or: “I think… I believe… My theory is…” He isn’t really speaking for himself. He is speaking with the voice of his ancestors and their long-time expectation of an anointed heir of the Davidic kingship, when he says: “You are the Christ / Messiah / Anointed One…”
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: It makes sense that we recite the Creed together, in unison, when we gather. Even though it is said in the singular “I believe…” it is a collective “I” that speaks here. It is the “I believe” of the united voice of the one Body of Christ, the whole community of all those who trust in him as the promised savior not only of their own individual souls, but of the whole cosmos.
Don’t get me wrong, our individual concerns and fears, our particular biographies and thoughts are important to God. And there is a time and place to make our faith personal and individual, like when Thomas says, “My Lord and my God!” After all, no one experiences love in the general. If a loved one says to you, “I love you,” I really hope you wouldn’t reply, “I love all people.”
But when it comes to answering the question, “Who is Jesus?” a purely personal testimony is not sufficient. It is good, as far as it goes, but is not yet “the Gospel” that saves and changes the world.
Only by offering our individual stories and opinions to a communal reality can we begin to really say “who Jesus is” to each other and to the world. Because I, by myself, have too limited a point of view. There’s simply a lot that I am bound to be missing. I need your help, so I can see, through your eyes, more of who this Jesus really is. There are things you have learned and experienced that I have not. That is why I need you. And that is why you need me, too. That is why we need the Church. We might be able to believe alone. But we cannot confess Christ alone. It is a communal witness. Christ sends into the world not individual believers, but a people.
It’s like those 3D glasses kids used to have with the round slides that you could pop in. A pretty crude technology compared to today’s Apple glasses or whatever. But that’s basically still how 3D vision works: Two slightly different perspectives, each seen by one of our eyes, are put together by our brains into one picture that holds these differing perspectives together to see a fuller picture with more depth — and more like the real thing! Now multiply that by a few billion — and then you get the complex, crystalline jewel through which the Spirit refracts the Word of God to us, that we may truly see, truly understand all that Jesus is and does for us. In this lifetime we will never be finished seeing, hearing, comprehending anew, with every person and perspective adding another facet to the total mosaic.
Maybe this helps explain Jesus’ enigmatic warning at the end: to not “tell anyone about him”. It’s not that he didn’t want more people to be part of this community of faith. It’s that he didn’t want people to have a cheapened, second-hand experience, a kind of “faith by hearsay”. Information, but not transformation. Unfortunately, this kind of dead belief is what passes for “faith” a lot these days. But real faith is not some things you heard someone say, or what your parents told you to believe, or a list of intellectual propositions to which you assent. Faith, in essence, is trust in someONE more than belief in someTHING.
Only after the Holy Spirit was poured out on the community in Pentecost – and has kept on pouring ever since! – was it possible for people who had not walked with the man from Nazareth to have a living encounter with the Risen Christ. This encounter binds them into that same communal “I” that can say with Peter and the whole church: “You are the Messiah!”
(Robin Lutjohann)
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February 23, 2024
1Now Sarai, Abram’s wife, bore him no children. She had an Egyptian slave-girl whose name was Hagar, 2and Sarai said to Abram, “You see that the LORD has prevented me from bearing children; go in to my slave-girl; it may be that I shall obtain children by her.” And Abram listened to the voice of Sarai. 3So, after Abram had lived ten years in the land of Canaan, Sarai, Abram’s wife, took Hagar the Egyptian, her slave-girl, and gave her to her husband Abram as a wife. 4He went in to Hagar, and she conceived; and when she saw that she had conceived, she looked with contempt on her mistress. 5Then Sarai said to Abram, “May the wrong done to me be on you! I gave my slave- girl to your embrace, and when she saw that she had conceived, she looked on me with contempt. May the LORD judge between you and me!” 6But Abram said to Sarai, “Your slave-girl is in your power; do to her as you please.” Then Sarai dealt harshly with her, and she ran away from her.
Genesis 16:1-6
Oh God. Oh God, OH GOD. A story born in deception, bigamy, lies, and abduction. A story of slavery, rape, forced surrogacy, and physical, verbal, emotional, and probably spiritual abuse. A story of a helpless, tortured, pregnant refugee running for her life.
I am guessing Hagar was given to Sarai and Abram when the pharaoh realized that the woman he’d been sleeping with was Abram’s wife, not his sister, and begged them to leave (Genesis 12). Hagar didn’t have a choice – she was abducted, and forced to leave behind her home.
As a slave she also doesn’t have any kind of bodily autonomy, so when Sarai “gives her to” Abram, there’s no consent. He rapes her. She ends up pregnant, and “looks with contempt on her mistress.” I think many/most interpretations assume that Hagar feels superior to Sarai for being able to conceive a child since Sarai is barren. That kind of makes sense since fertility was such an important part of being a woman in ancient Israel, but I don’t think that really fits the context – at least I don’t think it truly explains the rest of the story.
What if, instead, Hagar prays and prays and begs God to let her not conceive? What if, once she realizes she is pregnant, she gets desperately angry – I would argue rightfully so – at these people who had ripped her out of her former life, and did such violence to her?
And then, instead of treating Hagar kindly and with gratitude for what she is enduring on Sarai’s behalf, Sarai abuses her to the point that Hagar’s only option is running away and somehow trying to make it across the desert to get home and to safety (the second half of Genesis 16).
A story like that in our lectionary? A story like that in our Bible? Yes. And here’s why: the Bible isn’t just a book to make us feel all warm and fuzzy. Often, the Bible holds up a mirror for us. Like here:
Few of us will ever know the kind of hell Hagar had to endure (and I’m sure Hagar would say that her experience was more than close enough to actual hell, thankyouverymuch). The real question is, how do we treat the people who do? How do we treat refugees and people who were forcibly displaced or abducted? How do we treat survivors of torture, abuse, and sexual violence? How do we treat the homeless, especially when they are homeless because the home they had is not a safe place for them to return to? How do we treat people who are afraid, even terrified, for their lives?
I think many of us will have “good” answers to these questions – after all, we as a congregation and many of us individually are engaged in our community, especially in feeding the poor and homeless (many of whom will have lived through experiences that resemble Hagar’s, at least to an extent). But this text pushes us to go even further.
When have we been like Sarai? When have we been jaded, cold, jealous, or vindictive? In Sarai’s time it was common practice for a woman to give her servant or slave girl to her husband to produce an heir if she herself couldn’t, regardless of what the slave herself thought or wanted. According to her society, Sarai was entirely within her right as a mistress to do with Hagar what she did. When have we been like Sarai, so immersed in “that’s just how it is” or “that’s how it’s always been” that we haven’t seen how “that’s how we’ve always done it” hurts other people?
But I think the most painful question is this: when have we been like Abram? Willing to go along with something because it serves us, even though we know we will hurt others? Or, even worse, going along with something because it is less effort and easier than protesting or refusing?
This is not a nice, feel-good text. This story holds a mirror to the most hideous parts of ourselves and our societies, and sheds light on what we would much prefer to hide. It is fitting, then, that we read this text in Lent, a time of year where God holds a mirror to us so we can acknowledge our shortcomings and sins, and repent.
And here’s the incredible thing: once God has blinded and confronted us with how glaringly obvious our sins are to God and we come clean, we are not tossed aside. Especially in this time of year, in Lent, when we prepare mentally, emotionally, and spiritually for the horror of Holy Week and the dazed shock of Easter morning, God reminds us of this crazy – literally insane – sacrifice Jesus made for us simply out of love and compassion.
God knows all about our sin, and God grieves our sin. But God also loves us beyond what we could ever comprehend, and so God becomes human in Jesus to show us just how much we are loved, and that there is a way out of our sin. That way out is Jesus on the cross, and Jesus resurrected. I pray that this season of Lent will give us all the chance to come clean before God, to accept this immense, incomprehensible love that God showed us sinners in Jesus, and wait full of impatient, excited anticipation for the celebration of forgiveness and love that is Easter.
(Raphaela Mueller)
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[Sorry. No reading for February 22]
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February 21, 2024
1 The words of Agur son of Jakeh. An oracle.
Thus says the man: I am weary, O God;
Proverbs 30:1-9
I am weary, O God, and am wasting away.
2 Surely I am too stupid to be human;
I do not have human understanding.
3 I have not learned wisdom,
nor have I knowledge of the holy ones.[b
4 Who has ascended to heaven and come down?
Who has gathered the wind in the hollow of the hand?
Who has wrapped up the waters in a garment?
Who has established all the ends of the earth?
What is the person’s name?
And what is the name of the person’s child?
Surely you know!
5 Every word of God proves true;
he is a shield to those who take refuge in him.
6 Do not add to his words,
lest he rebuke you, and you be found a liar.
7 Two things I ask of you;
do not deny them to me before I die:
8 Remove far from me falsehood and lying;
give me neither poverty nor riches;
feed me with the food that I need,
9 lest I be full and deny you
and say, “Who is the Lord?”
or I be poor and steal
and profane the name of my God.
Proverbs is an interesting book in the Hebrew Bible (our Old Testament), because it hints at just how much of a connection there was between the various peoples and nations of the eastern Mediterranean and beyond, already in ancient times. For example, similar collections of sayings, proverbs, and instructions have been found in other places in the Middle East, and at least part of the Book of Proverbs has strong similarities to Egyptian literature of about the same time period.
There is a key difference to other literature though: the focus on the one God. Our verses for today show this focus, and actually seem to describe a very close relationship with God. For example, despite describing himself as “too stupid to be human” and not wise enough to understand God, the writer (Agur son of Jakeh; scholars have no idea who he was) still praises God for God’s truthful words, and admonishes his readers never to add to or subtract from these words of God.
And then Agur actually asks God directly – and insists that God should grant his request – for just enough, and not too much. Agur recognizes the dangers both of having too much (he might think he can do life by himself and does not need God) or having too little (in order to survive he might turn to stealing, violating the 10 Commandments). So he asks God to help him live in moderation, in his case especially with regard to food.
It would be easy to turn these verses into a punishment, especially when interacting with those who have less than we do. “Well, haven’t you asked God for more?” Or “Clearly, God thinks that what you have is enough for you.” But the intent of the Book of Proverbs was to be something of a school book to teach the young people how to live well in their communities, so for us, too, it is not a measuring tape to use on other people (none of the Bible is).
Rather, Proverbs, including these verses, is an opportunity for us to reflect. Where in our own lives do we have just enough, where too little, and where too much? The obvious things to look at would be money and food, but what about compassion? Understanding? Pride? Patience? Humor? Knowledge? Work? Meaning? Time? Joy? Awareness? Humility? Frustration?
A lack or surplus of any of these (and other) human experiences can throw our lives off balance… If we feel that we have too much or too little, do we realize that we have just as close of a relationship with God as Agur did? Do we understand, not just intellectually but with our entire being, that we can ask God for balance – for more or less – just as easily?
Now, the implied consequence of having enough is that we use what we have received to the benefit of our communities. Thanks to Jesus’ experience of humanity and his death and resurrection, and thanks to our Lutheran interpretation of Jesus’ ministry we no longer have to use our lives and what we have to earn our ticket into heaven. Rather, we are free now to praise God and serve our neighbors with what we have, not out of a sense of obligation or compulsion, but out of a desire to share Jesus’ sacrifice and God’s love with other people.
We are called to love others because God loves us. So, our joyful life-long prayer can be, “Remove far from me falsehood and lying, give me neither poverty nor riches – feed me with the food that I need, so I may share your love with those around me.” (Raphaela Mueller)
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February 20, 2024
8 Finally, all of you, have unity of spirit, sympathy, love for one another, a tender heart, and a humble mind. 9 Do not repay evil for evil or abuse for abuse, but, on the contrary, repay with a blessing. It is for this that you were called—that you might inherit a blessing. 10 For
“Those who desire to love life
and to see good days,
let them keep their tongues from evil
and their lips from speaking deceit;11 let them turn away from evil and do good;
let them seek peace and pursue it.12 For the eyes of the Lord are on the righteous,
1 Peter 3:8-12
and his ears are open to their prayer.
But the face of the Lord is against those who do evil.”
Peter quotes Psalm 34 as support for his teaching about non-violence. This is pretty interesting, since the psalm itself doesn’t seem to be, on the face of it, about the pacifist ethic of Jesus. It’s about refraining from evil and living a good life of peace and integrity. But Peter reads these words in the psalm, which he might have learned as a child in the synagogue, and he is reminded of his teacher’s words: “turn the other cheek…” Psalm 34 doesn’t say that, but it does say that we ought to “seek peace and pursue (literally chase after) it” and to refrain scrupulously not only from actions but even from words that do harm. This, we are told, is the recipe to “love life” and “see good days”.
There is a beautiful insight in Peter’s choice to quote these words about living a good life in connection with the Christian teaching of non-violence and love of enemy. You see, forgiving and loving the very people who have hurt us is not simply doing them a favor, or being the “bigger person” because we have to. It is, ultimately, in our own self-interest. The Greek word translated “forgive” throughout the New Testament means “release” or “let go”. Practicing nonviolence and love for those who do us harm frees not just them but US! We let go, so that we can be free. Choosing not to get entangled in the spiral of harm is a way to embrace life for our neighbors, but also for ourselves! It is a way to not let the one who has harmed us continue to hold us captive and control us.
To be sure: Releasing them from the vice-grip of our need for vengeance does not mean pretending it never happened. Despite the popular saying, forgiving is not forgetting. And repaying evil with a blessing does not necessarily mean that we are not angry anymore, or that what happened was not wrong. It is possible to acknowledge frankly what has happened and hold those who have done harm accountable — while simultaneously refusing to perpetuate the same harm.
Choosing non-violence is a courageous act that is not getting any easier to do, as our world is spinning into repeated patterns of violence and division. But we are able to grow in this way of life because we have benefitted from the greatest act of nonviolence ever: When Jesus, God in the flesh, was dying on a cross, he said: “Father forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.” He prays the same over us when we make are at our worst. He chooses not to give us “what we deserve” but instead acts with nonviolence towards us, his friends and siblings.
We are forgiven. — And so we forgive.
We are loved. — And so we love.
Our violence is countered with mercy. — And so we do the same.
And as we learn this way of life, we realize: This really is a way to “see good days” and “love life” to the fullest — free from what was done to us, not defined by the past, but open for something totally new. (Robin Lutjohann)
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February 19, 2024
I cry aloud to God,
Psalm 77:1-3
aloud to God, that he may hear me.
In the day of my trouble I seek the Lord;
in the night my hand is stretched out without wearying;
my soul refuses to be comforted.
I think of God, and I moan;
I meditate, and my spirit faints. Selah
Have you ever noticed the word Selah appearing seemingly out of nowhere in your reading of the Old Testament, especially the Psalms? It’s a Hebrew word that most translators choose to leave untranslated. That is largely because they have no idea what it means. Scholars are conflicted and cannot come to agreement. Here’s what we do know: Selah appears most often in the Psalms and in one chapter of the book of the prophet Habakkuk. In the Psalms, it is found 71 times, including 79% of the psalms that have “to the conductor” (la’menatzeach) in the title. Among other reasons, this has led scholars to surmise that Selah is a kind of liturgical or musical instruction.
Some argue it is a pause in the flow of the chanting of the psalm that is intended to make space for a response or a refrain by the whole assembly. Even in Habakkuk, the word seems to be breaking up a prayer into discrete divisions of thought.
Others point out that Selah could be a derivative of the Hebrew root salal which means to “raise voices” or “increase volume”. So, one could think of it as the ancient Hebrew equivalent of forte.
Yet again, other fun theories include the one put forth by some of the rabbis, who said that Selah is a Hebrew acronym standing for “May God forgive the sins of this people”. So, each time the word appears, we are invited to pray a prayer of confession. I like this idea. In my personal practice I have taken to pausing each time Selah appears and adding the “Jesus Prayer” that is so well known, especially in the Christian East: “Lord Jesus, Son of the living God, have mercy on me, a sinner.”
I suppose, this side of eternity, we will not know what Selah originally meant. And maybe that’s okay. What is certain is that it was a verbal marker meant to interrupt the flow of thought and music and recitation. A kind of STOP sign. In other words: Stop, drop, and…PRAY!
We need Selahs in our lives. Moments to stop and become conscious, to reflect and stop us from just going through the motions. God provides these aplenty. Are we willing to accept and use them?
Might we be willing to reframe some of the annoying interruptions of our precious routine as Selah moments? Or the canceled and changed plans? Or the sudden shocks of sorrow, disappointment, or even joy that pierce the even and predictable fabric of our lives all of a sudden…? Can we thank God not only for the fulfilled expectations and successes, the “answers” to our wishful prayers — but also thank God for the disruptions and “non-answers” to our wishes, the failures and detours? The hilarious blind-sidings of joy?
One of my favorite “Knock Knock” jokes goes like this:
Knock knock.
Who’s there?
Interrupting Cow.
Interrupt cow, who—
MOO!
Maybe Selah is a signal pointing us to the Interrupting God, who snaps us out of our deadly slumber with God’s convicting word of challenge (“Law”) or God’s surprising word of grace (“Gospel”) coming at just the right time, preventing us from drifting either into complacency or into despair, like the practice bumpers in a bowling alley: drift, bang, drift, bang, drift, bang — so we roll forward awkwardly until we reach the goal.
The Cross of our Lord Jesus was the death of God.
This completely blindsided all the expectations that any religion and any system of thought ever had for a deity.
It upended all the hopes and plans of utopians and world-changers, but also of pietists and prayer warriors.
BANG!
It was an annoying interruption of all the normal ways to have a God.
And so was the Resurrection.
The grieving disciples were just starting to settle into coming to terms with the loss of their master and friend. Making plans to get back to work, stay out of trouble, keep your nose to the grindstone.
The triumphant Roman Empire and the power brokers of Judea were comfortably confirmed in their way of doing business. Status quo retained, and the “peace” was kept. Just another day at the office for the folks on top.
BANG!
The tomb was empty and the executed criminal was on the loose.
The same dynamic is still at play. Death to crush our self-serving idolatries. Resurrection to explode our resigned certainties.
In the Daily Bible Reading, the sorrow of the one who is praying gently drifts into resignation when a disruptive Selah comes out of nowhere:
“I think of God, and I moan;
I meditate and my spirit faints…”
“SELAH!” Bang! Here comes the interrupting God.
Post Selah, the psalm continues differently. Even though the problem is not “fixed”, there is a different level of awakeness and urgency, maybe a possibility of remembering hope:
“You keep my eyelids from closing;
I am so troubled that I cannot speak.
I consider the days of old,
and I remember the years of long ago…”
Here comes the interrupting God,
who keeps our eyelids from closing.
BANG!
Are you ready?
Of course you’re not.
You never will be.
Thanks be to God.
(Robin Lutjohann)
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February 18, 2024
12 And the Spirit immediately drove him out into the wilderness. 13 He was in the wilderness forty days, tested by Satan, and he was with the wild beasts, and the angels waited on him.
Mark 1:12-13 (NRSVue)
Contrary to Matthew and Luke, in Mark’s version of the temptation story doesn’t sound like Jesus had to endure Satan’s tests first before the angels would come and serve him. It seems like all three of these things – Satan testing Jesus, Jesus living with the wild beasts, and angels serving him – all happened simultaneously. That sounds a lot like our normal life, doesn’t it? Bad and difficult, sometimes even traumatizing, things happen – like being tested by Satan – at the same time that good or great things happen that make us euphoric and jubilant – like angels serving Jesus. And then there’s the kind of in-between stuff that could go either way, like living with wild animals.
Because while there are most definitely scorpions and spiders out in the wilderness in Palestine, there would also have been dogs that were maybe a little feral but actually pretty used to humans, and I’m guessing there were also cats. And when I imagine the kind of person that Jesus might have been, I think he could easily have interacted with all the animals he met in a way that was not dangerous to either him or them. I could see him even making friends with them, and playing with them whenever he didn’t have to deal with Satan.
Also, I want to remind us again that after Jesus heals Simon Peter’s mother-in-law and all the other people that are brought to him that night, he does – voluntarily and by himself – go back out into the wilderness that he has just come from in order to pray and talk to God. So here, in these 40 days, I am guessing Jesus experiences a closeness to God and an immediacy of their connection that he misses almost immediately (borrowing Mark’s love of the word “immediately”) once he returns to the noise and sensory overload of human society.
I think that in particular, this sensory overload of living among hundreds, thousands, even millions of people, is something that many of us can relate to. I know that many of us, and many of our family members, voluntarily and often by ourselves go into the wilderness to reconnect with God. We hike, we camp, we stargaze or watch fireflies, maybe we hunt or fish, we kayak or boat, we go snowshoeing or cross-country skiing (downhill skiing slopes tend to be busier and less quiet or solitary, but to an extent they’re also still wilderness). We do nature photography, we bird watch, we swim and snorkel or scuba dive. We garden, or we help maintain hiking trails.
When this world with its demands, advertisements, debates, and machines is overwhelming, the wilderness can be a relief. It is not just a scary place, but a place to meet God, to see God, and to talk with God. In the wilderness, when our bodies and minds are deprived of the daily routines and responsibilities we have the chance to actually hear God’s quiet voice to us. In this solitary quiet time we get to form a bond with God that maybe we wouldn’t otherwise get to form, and in the wilderness we can strengthen that bond.
In a similar way, Lent can be a relief. Rather than being a time for self-flagellation and tortured self-deprivation, Lent is a time to re-focus, to return – literally re-turn – our eyes, our minds, our hearts, and our hands toward God. Rather than just abstaining from eating certain things or drinking alcohol or trying to be a little more consistent with our swear jar, Lent is a time to stop, breathe, maybe even close our eyes while we start feeling our heartbeat again.
Lent is a time to take a good long look at the entirety of our lives and see where we’ve been walking in circles out in the wilderness, possibly not even realizing that we’re lost and can’t find God by ourselves. I pray that this Lent we all will have the chance to rediscover and feel just how close God is to us, no matter where we are spiritually, or how far out in the wilderness of life we feel. (Raphaela Mueller)
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February 17, 2024
2 And just then some people were carrying a paralysed man lying on a bed. When Jesus saw their faith, he said to the paralytic, ‘Take heart, son; your sins are forgiven.’ 3 Then some of the scribes said to themselves, ‘This man is blaspheming.’ 4 But Jesus, perceiving their thoughts, said, ‘Why do you think evil in your hearts? 5 For which is easier, to say, “Your sins are forgiven”, or to say, “Stand up and walk”? 6 But so that you may know that the Son of Man has authority on earth to forgive sins’—he then said to the paralytic—‘Stand up, take your bed and go to your home.’ 7 And he stood up and went to his home. 8 When the crowds saw it, they were filled with awe, and they glorified God, who had given such authority to human beings.
Matthew 9:2-8 (NRSVue)
A man in a stretcher is brought by his friends to be forgiven and healed by Jesus. Then it says: “Jesus saw their faith,” and much to the scandal of the religious authorities who witness this event, Jesus speaks and acts with the authority of God, forgiving the man his sins and then healing him from his illness. The controversy that ensues as the story rolls on might cause us to miss something very important in this passage: It is not the man’s own faith that Jesus is responding to here, but the faith of his friends. It appears that the faith of others can save us! Think about how remarkable and wonderful that is. We all are bound together with many other people in this life: our family, friends, colleagues, neighbors… And some of us, especially those of us who think a lot about the Reformation-era claim that we are “saved by faith”, might have cause to worry about those people, whom we love but who do not (or no longer) believe in Christ or in God. For the moment, let’s disregard the very real arrogance and conceit that is often hidden beneath such concern, when Christians feel themselves to be superior over non-Christians (that’s a very grave sin, for which we need to repent). But when the concern of a Christian for non-Christians comes from genuine faith and love for them, this passage speaks a word of hope. Unlike the modern individualist mindset of the dog-eat-dog, “taking care of number one” world in which we live, God does not view us as isolated units, each with a completely siloed destiny. Our lives are intertwined, and so is our hope. After all, John called Jesus (as do we in the Agnus Dei): “the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world” (John 1:29). Not just Christians, but the whole WORLD is saved by the crucified and risen Savior — the same “world” that “did not know him” (1:10) a few verses earlier and yet is invaded by the saving presence of the One who said he would “draw all people” to himself (12:32). In a similar vein, I find it fascinating that Paul, in writing to Christians living in the multicultural city of Corinth, suggests to them that their non-believing spouse and children are connected to the holiness of Christ’s body through relationship with their Christian family member (1 Cor 7:14-16)! Or consider the famous parable of judgment (the sheep and the goats) in Matthew 25. One interpretation that I find increasingly convincing is that the “least of these” in question are not humanity in general but Jesus’ followers, and that the “sheep” and the “goats” (who after all are called “the nations” here, the standard term for people outside of God’s covenant) are non-Jews and non-Jesus followers — the rest of the world that does not believe in Jesus or his God and Father. The enigmatic judgment parable seems to suggest that they are saved by their love for the people who belong to Christ’s ever-growing body (on the basis of “what you have done for the least of MY BROTHERS AND SISTERS”). Mystery abounds in these sayings. And none of us can ever claim to know who is or isn’t a beneficiary of God’s saving actions in the cosmos. But, I tell you what, it’s passages like this that make me shout for joy that we have a God whose grace doesn’t wait for me to have some sort of perfect faith all figured out on my own — but who has blessedly surrounded me with faith-full friends, family, and neighbors, on whom I can count to have faith on my behalf when I struggle with mine. I think it is so powerful that we say the Creed in unison during worship. Just like a strong singer standing next to me lifts up my weak voice, I can be sure that there is someone in the crowd who has a more certain and confident faith than mine, which can carry my lack of faith for the moment — because we never really believe alone. God sees us, and saves us, as one intertwined humanity in Christ. (Robin Lutjohann)
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February 16, 2024
In the presence of God and of Christ Jesus, who is to judge the living and the dead, and in view of his appearing and his kingdom, I solemnly urge you: proclaim the message; be persistent whether the time is favourable or unfavourable; convince, rebuke, and encourage, with the utmost patience in teaching. For the time is coming when people will not put up with sound doctrine, but having itching ears, they will accumulate for themselves teachers to suit their own desires, and will turn away from listening to the truth and wander away to myths.
2 Timothy 4:1-4 (NRSVue)
The observation that the Apostle Paul makes in these written instructions to his young protege, Timothy, still applies 2000 years later: “sound doctrine” — or, to put it in less stodgy sounding words: “healthy teaching” — is never really in style with the dominant trends. There will perhaps always be something a bit counter-cultural about the message of the Gospel. After all, this is a message that calls each of us out as sinners, confronting us with our hypocrisy, egocentricity, and coldness of heart. It’s hard to hear. What’s more, this message proclaims forgiveness and grace to sinners like you and me — unconditionally, for Christ’s sake! It can sound too good to be true, like a fairytale. Jaded and suspicious due to past experiences, we might wonder, “What’s the catch?” And even if we are able to accept that grace for ourselves (which can be hard enough), we may have a hard time granting grace to others who (in our eyes) do not deserve it. Of course, no one deserves grace. That’s the whole point. It’s a gift. But in a world of transactional relationships and zero-sum competition, the “healthy teaching” of the Gospel can have a hard time getting through to people. Instead, our ears itch to hear teachings that put ME in the center, that downplay my vulnerability and captivity to sin and promise me a paradise of my own making…as long as I follow these five easy steps, or join this group, or buy this product… Glorious, exciting myths! Alternative gospels that beguile us all around. How much easier it is to believe that the solution lies in ME “doing something”, as opposed to me simply receiving the good news of what SOMEONE ELSE has done for me. But sooner or later, all of us see through the hollowness of our self-salvation projects, their false promises having let us down one too many times. And then we are ready to believe the formerly unbelievable: You are beloved. Not because of what you do, or produce, achieve, bring to the table, or could become if only you fulfilled your potential. No. You are beloved as the person you are right now, flaws and all. Simply because God loves you, and always did. And if you doubt how much God loves you, just look at the Cross. Yeah, I know… This message can be a tough sell. But it always was. Just ask Paul. (Robin Lutjohann)
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February 15, 2024
To you, O Lord, I lift up my soul.
Psalm 25:1-5 (NRSVue)
O my God, in you I trust;
do not let me be put to shame;
do not let my enemies exult over me.
Do not let those who wait for you be put to shame;
let them be ashamed who are wantonly treacherous.
Make me to know your ways, O Lord;
teach me your paths.
Lead me in your truth, and teach me,
for you are the God of my salvation;
for you I wait all day long.
This prayer by David was answered a thousand years later in the incarnation of his descendant, Jesus. David prayed to “the God of my salvation“, to “know your ways” and to be led in “your truth“. Jesus, whose name means “the Lord is salvation“, said: “I am the way, the truth, and the life…” (John 14:6). It may seem like a simplistic Sunday School platitude to say that Jesus is the answer to our problems. But in a very profound way, he really is. When we are seeking guidance, like David did in his time of distress, it is tempting to devour tons of information, as if knowing more will lead to an answer. Sometimes it does help to a degree, but I have experienced that, for the trickiest and most painful conundrums of life, just having more information doesn’t solve the problem. Very often, the answer that we are looking for is not something that will present itself ahead of time, but something that dawns on us as we take steps forward. And for taking these steps, we have Jesus, our teacher and Lord, to show us the way. Think about his ethical teachings: giving without asking in return; choosing to not retaliate, to not return evil for evil; working on ourselves with spiritual disciplines (prayer, fasting, Bible reading, sacrificial giving) without showing them off; remembering that we are God’s beloved children; trusting that God is in control and will work the present situation out for our good; striving for God’s kingdom and a life of obedience, courage, and holiness… These are things we can do at all times, no matter what situation we are in. There is no set of circumstances so challenging, no environment so toxic, no choice so conflicted that following Jesus becomes impossible. It may not solve the immediate issue. But I promise you, it won’t make it worse. Instead, it likely will help you overcome it, with time. That’s the amazing thing about being a follower of Jesus. You can always do it. So, whatever you are facing right now, pause. Breathe. And let us pray: “Lead me in your truth, and teach me…” (Robin Lutjohann)
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February 14, 2024
[Jesus said,] “Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust consume and where thieves break in and steal; but store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust consumes and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” Matthew 6:19-21 (NRSVue)
What tomorrow brings is uncertain, so we try to make sure that tomorrow is secured by doing what we can to plan ahead, to save up resources, and to think about what we will need a day, a week, a month, or even years from now. Sophisticated human systems, indeed entire industries, have emerged to support this need to secure tomorrow: annual budgets, banks, retirement funds, insurance policies, militaries and police forces — so many practices and institutions are dedicated to securing the treasures we have, to make sure that nothing is wasted or taken or lost. We do this because we are concerned about our future and our loved ones’ well-being. I don’t think Jesus disapproves of our efforts to care for the needs of our body, our life, or the people in our care. And yet, we have to admit that, despite all of our efforts to secure the future and protect our life and our loved ones, life can still “break in and steal” away our security in the blink of an eye. This is a horrifying reality which each of us faces at some point. Our prosperity, health, relationships, and the biological lives of our bodies and those of our loved ones… we know that they are all temporary and fleeting and fragile. As we are specially reminded of today: “You are dust and to dust you shall return…” Despite our sophisticated efforts and systems, none of us can guarantee tomorrow. If we are brutally honest, all we really have is now. Yesterday is the past, the future is still unwritten, but I am here right now with my God and with the people and the resources God has given me. Woe is me if I am so preoccupied by securing tomorrow or rehashing yesterday that I am no longer present here and now. Woe is me if I place my ultimate and final trust in human means of securing my life. If I do so, I will be disappointed sooner or later. That’s the only guarantee human ability can ever provide. That’s why Jesus says to you and me: Invest in a fund that will never tank, a bank that will never be robbed, a plan that will not be thwarted, a body that will not die: place your faith in Christ and his “body” and his promise and the future that he is building among us right now. Yes, be wise and responsible, practicing due diligence to care for our well-being in the long haul. But spend the bulk of your energy, resources, time, effort, and heart on the ONE project that will last once everything is said and done: the Kingdom of God which is breaking into this precious present with every smile, every song, every prayer, and every act of love. (Robin Lutjohann)
