Category Archives: Discipleship

A Pound of Nard

Holy Week Meditation on John 12:1-11

This was NOT a funeral dinner. It was supposed to be a funeral dinner. Martha had been working on it for days  – but Jesus had changed all those plans when he’d shown up at Lazarus’ tomb. Now, instead of sharing fond memories of the deceased, the friends gathered around this table were talking and laughing with him. Lazarus had become an overnight celebrity: The One Who Was No Longer Dead. This was a celebration dinner.

But Death does not get to sit at this table. Lazarus offers visible proof that Death has no power over Jesus, and even if those enjoying Martha’s fine cooking don’t fully comprehend it yet, we know that Jesus will completely defeat death before John’s story is finished. For now, let’s take a closer look at this feast in Bethany, and especially at the gift Mary brings to the guest of honor.

The other gospels tell us that the nard was in an alabaster jar. The only way to open the sealed jar was to break it, so this was an all-or-nothing gift. It’s possible that the nard might have belonged to Mary’s dowry, so pouring out this perfume on Jesus’ feet could have signified a substantial sacrifice on Mary’s part. If she had been saving the nard for her own bride price, this gift has suddenly reduced her marriage chances to practically zero.

But Mary gave it all. She poured the entire contents of that jar onto Jesus’ feet, and rubbed it in with her hair.

What an intimate, scandalous thing to do! For an unmarried woman to touch a man was shocking. For a woman to let down her hair in public was also considered completely inappropriate behavior. Yet, here she was, abandoning all decorum as she wiped the perfume on Jesus’ feet with her hair. In a few days, Jesus would kneel at the feet of his disciples and wipe them with a towel in exactly the same way. But Mary was not using perfume like soap and water. Jesus said that Mary was anointing him for burial. Mary could not know the details of what was to happen in just a few short days, but she could worship her Lord now, in the present moment, with all she had to offer.

These last days of Lent are always the hardest for me. I get weary of lamenting my sins. I want to say, “Enough already! I’ve repented! I’ve confessed! I’ve submitted myself to discipline! I’m tired of all this introspection and self-examination! I’m ready for Easter! Let me get on with my life!” But do you hear those words? “I,” “Myself,” “Me,” “My?” It’s easy to fall into that trap of self-absorption, to become self-centered, instead of Christ-centered. These forty days of Lent, like the forty days Jesus spent in the wilderness, are just enough time to weaken us so Satan can tempt us to lose our focus on Christ. Mary comes to remind us to choose the better part, to keep our eyes on Jesus, to serve him with all that we are and all that we have.

As we enter Holy Week, let us ponder what we can offer the Lord of All. What would cost us as much as Mary’s perfume cost her? What are we willing to sacrifice to bring honor and glory to the One who died so that we might live?

 

Unsubscribed

On the first Sunday of Lent, I sat down after lunch to tackle my daily e-mail chore.  Usually, this consists of reading a couple of messages from my family, then deleting a long string of unread messages. Every time I delete one without reading it, I feel a little twinge of guilt, but I delete it anyway. Some of these messages come from companies that have sold me items in the past.  The subject lines indicate that they have something new to offer me, at a price I can’t refuse. Some of the messages are from blogs to which I subscribed a long time ago. Let me be clear: none of these messages are really “spam.” I subscribed to them all at some point in time. I just don’t read them anymore.

On the first Sunday of Lent, I discovered a new Lenten discipline: I decided to repent of my e-mail sin. One by one, I opened each message, scrolled down to find the “Unsubscribe” button, and clicked it. One by one, my inbox filled up again with confirmation messages that I had successfully unsubscribed.  One even said, “We’re sorry to see you go, but it’s your e-mail. We respect that.”

On the first Monday of Lent, I checked my morning e-mail to find three messages from websites I had missed the day before. Three. Scroll, click, click, they were gone. Screenshot 2014-03-10 17.06.52

This isn’t exactly 40 bags in 40 days, but it has the same effect as de-cluttering a corner of my house: I am free from the nagging guilt I feel every time I delete a message I haven’t read.  I am free from using my time to scan messages I don’t want to read. I am free to focus on what really matters, as I try to be a little more like Jesus each day of this Lenten season.  I’m giving up junk e-mail for Lent, so I can take on the discipline of spending more time with God. I’ll let you know how it goes…

No One But Jesus – Sermon on Matthew 17:1-8 (Transfiguration A)

It was no big deal for the guys to go on a hike. Mountain climbing was something they did together quite often. Sometimes their Teacher would take the whole class, sometimes just a few would go. They wouldn’t be gone long – an afternoon, maybe they’d camp overnight and climb back down the next morning. So no one thought much of it when the Teacher asked his three best students if they’d like to take a hike. It had been a pretty intense week, and the physical challenge of climbing a taller mountain would do them good, give their minds a break, get them up into the cooler mountain air. So they didn’t think twice, they just followed.

And it wasn’t much of a climb, really. They didn’t need any special gear or equipment. There were places where they could even walk side by side, instead of following single file up the mountain. The view was amazing, looking out over the valley. They didn’t talk much. It was just good to be together with trusted friends, taking time for some much needed R&R. By the time they reached the top of the mountain, it was already late afternoon, and the shadows were getting long. They took a break before starting the long climb back down.

That’s when it happened.

Continue reading

Nobody’s Perfect? – Sermon on Matthew 5:38-48

Anybody here like kosher pickles? How about kosher beef franks? As Gentiles, my guess is that we don’t think much about what “kosher” means, beyond its application to certain foods. The reading we heard from Leviticus earlier today gives us the origins of the word “kosher.” It comes from the Hebrew word kedosh, and it means something that is holy, or set apart.

“Be holy (kedoshim) because I, your God, am holy,” God tells his people. (Leviticus 19:2). God’s holiness might never be a question for us, but how can we be holy? Jewish rabbis point us back to Genesis, reminding us that we are made in God’s image, and this image is not so much a physical picture as it is a reflection of God’s character.[1] Our passage from Leviticus introduces the how-to manual for living a kosher life. It teaches us how to be holy as God is holy, through godly behavior in our everyday living. Telling the truth, treating others fairly, taking care of our families and the poor, protecting the weak and forgiving those who have hurt us – all these choices contribute to the spiritual discipline of holiness outlined in Leviticus. So, where did it all go wrong? How did following the rules in the manual become more important than living a truly holy life?

As Jesus spoke to his followers in the Sermon on the Mount, he was trying to teach them what it means to be truly holy. Two weeks ago, we heard Jesus announce that he had not come to abolish the Law, but to fulfill it. Last week, we heard him describe how living into the spirit of the Law requires more of us than simply following the letter of the Law. Jesus talked of obeying the laws by practicing a more rigorous observance of God’s intent behind each of the rules. “Of course God doesn’t want you to kill each other,” Jesus is saying – “God doesn’t even want you to be angry with each other! Of course God doesn’t want you to commit adultery. He knows that such a betrayal of trust can lead to pain and divorce, and God’s deep desire is for marriage to reflect the loving relationship God has with his people. Of course God doesn’t want you to make idle promises and use his holy Name to give them greater importance than they deserve. Let your word stand on its own: say Yes, or No, and mean it.”

Today’s passage brings us to the heart of the Sermon on the Mount. As Jesus continues to teach us what it means to be truly holy, the focus is on reconciliation instead of retribution. Here the Word of the Lord, as given to us in Matthew 5:38-48.

“You have heard that it was said, ‘An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.’ But I say to you, Do not resist an evildoer. But if anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other also; and if anyone wants to sue you and take your coat, give your cloak as well; and if anyone forces you to go one mile, go also the second mile. Give to everyone who begs from you, and do not refuse anyone who wants to borrow from you.
“You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you,so that you may be children of your Father in heaven; for he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the righteous and on the unrighteous.For if you love those who love you, what reward do you have? Do not even the tax collectors do the same? And if you greet only your brothers and sisters what more are you doing than others? Do not even the Gentiles do the same? Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect.”

Jesus continues to teach from a three-part formula. First, he offers the common understanding of Levite law. Second, he gives the law a new twist, by outlining higher expectations for applying it to Kingdom living, and third, he explains God’s intent for the law in practical terms and examples. So far, so good. Jesus gets an “A” for three-point preaching outlines. But at the end of the lesson, Jesus is asking more of us than we think is possible. “Be perfect,” he says. We know Jesus likes to use hyperbole, exaggerating a point to make it stick, so we’re hoping this is another case of overstatement! But it isn’t. “Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect.” How are we supposed to do that?

It starts with right relationship. The Law made allowance for justice that demanded an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth. Give as good as you get, in other words. But in that system, everyone goes around half blind. Rather than retribution, Jesus says, seek reconciliation. Rather than demanding fair treatment that hurts everyone, be willing to go the second mile. Literally.

By Roman law, a soldier could compel a civilian to carry his pack for one mile, or 1520 paces. But at the end of that mile, the soldier was required to take the pack back, unless he wanted to be punished for forcing a civilian to carry it further. Jesus was actually challenging Roman authority, by encouraging his followers to exceed the demands put on them by their oppressors.[2]

You may remember that, when we heard Luke’s version of the teaching about turning the other cheek, I explained that striking someone on the right cheek was a way of establishing superiority. It was a back-handed insult. A fight between equals would require hitting the left cheek with an open palm or fist. When Jesus tells us to turn our left cheek to someone who insults us by assuming superiority over us, he is telling us to affirm our own value as a beloved child of God. In essence, turning the other cheek is like saying, “I refuse to accept your arrogant insult. I dare you to consider me your equal.”

Instead of retribution, Jesus tells us to seek reconciliation. Instead of accepting oppression, Jesus encourages us to remember that we are God’s own beloved children. Since we have been so deeply loved, we are called to be agents of love in the world. But when Jesus quotes Leviticus this time, he doesn’t exactly quote Leviticus. Yes, the Law tells us to love our neighbor, but nowhere does it say to hate our enemies. Perhaps Jesus is quoting the way that particular law had been re-interpreted by the culture of the day. Or maybe Jesus was trying to emphasize what loving your neighbor really means. English author and mystery novelist G. K. Chesterton once quipped, “The Bible tells us to love our neighbors, and also to love our enemies; probably because they are generally the same people.”[3]

But in this case, Jesus is not talking about the person who lives next door to you, or even on your side of town. Jesus is not talking about the people who are most like you, the people with whom you most closely identify. Jesus is talking about the Other. With a capital O.

It’s easy to love the people you choose to love. It’s not so easy to love the people God puts in front of us every single day who are not like us at all, who don’t share our values or our tastes or our educational backgrounds, or our ideas about money and politics. Love your enemy, Jesus says. Love the Other.

Jesus is not talking about an emotion or a sentiment. He is talking about loving the way God loves. If you think back to the words we heard last week, the theme of reconciliation is running just under the surface of the whole passage. Back in verses 23-24, Jesus said, “So when you are offering your gift at the altar, if you remember that your brother or sister has something against you, leave your gift there before the altar and go; first be reconciled to your brother or sister, and then come and offer your gift.”

In his book, Exclusion and Embrace, theologian Miroslav Volf describes the process of reconciliation through something he calls “the drama of embrace.” There are four steps to this drama:

  • First, I open my arms to welcome the Other into my personal space, making myself vulnerable to the Other.
  • Second, I wait, allowing the Other to decide whether or not to accept my embrace.
  • Third, we step into each other’s open arms, and close our arms around one another. We are each distinct, with our own identities and personal boundaries intact, yet we have welcomed each other into our personal spaces, eliminating the distance between us. We remain in the embrace long enough to give it meaning – but not too long, or it becomes a stranglehold.
  • Fourth, in opening our arms, we release each other back into the world, giving freedom to one another.

But we have been changed by this embrace. Neither of us can ever be the same again, having welcomed the other into ourselves.

This transformation, this change of self, is exactly what Jesus did on the cross for us. He opened his arms, welcoming our sinfulness into his own perfection. As we accept that welcome, and step into Christ’s embrace, we are changed. But Jesus does not hold us against our will. Instead, he releases us back into the world, to be salt and light to others, welcoming them into the embrace of faith.

How has God been working in you and through you this week, to be salt and light? (I’ll bet you thought I had forgotten your homework assignment – I didn’t!) Turn to a neighbor, and keep in mind that your neighbor might be someone across the room from you, and share with one another one way you’ve seen God changing you, or changing the world through you. Go ahead, I’ll wait…

You see, God is working among us. Last weekend, I showed the Church Council a TED Talk by Simon Sinek that explained “It doesn’t matter what you do, it matters why you do it.”  Back in Leviticus, God states the reason behind the rules for godly behavior at least five times: you do these things “because I AM THE LORD,” God says. But what is our reason for being here, as this congregation? When I asked the council, “What are we leading people toward? Why are we here?” the first answer on the board was, “to know Christ.” Other good answers followed: to develop a close relationship with God, to live lives of integrity, caring for others, and many other good ideas. But if the only thing we ever did at First United Methodist Church was to help people to know Christ, wouldn’t that include developing a close relationship with God and living a life of integrity and caring for others? Because, to know Christ is to be changed. To know Christ is to be transformed into a new creation. To know Christ is to be … perfect.

“Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect,” Jesus says. This is one of those statements we hope Jesus doesn’t mean literally, and the good news is that the word translated as “perfect” really means something more than our English language can convey in one word. Telos is the Greek word for “goal,” “end,” or “purpose.” It’s more about becoming what was intended, accomplishing one’s God-given purpose, becoming complete. Eugene Peterson’s The Message translates it, “You’re kingdom subjects. Now live like it. Live out your God-created identity.” Moral perfection may be beyond our human reach, but our telos is our goal, our desired outcome, what happens when we are completely mature and have found our identity in Christ alone.

Being perfect isn’t impossible; it’s what we’re made for. Being perfect isn’t even something we can do on our own – it’s something God does in and through us, as we allow him to transform us. Jesus came, not to abolish the Law, but to fulfill it. Just as he transformed the way people heard God’s Law, he wants to transform us into the perfect children of God we were created to be. Reconciliation more than retribution, loving our enemies as well as our neighbors – these are how God’s transformation is shown to be completed in us. That’s our telos.

We are people who have experienced grace. We know what it is to receive God’s unmerited favor, love we couldn’t possibly earn. God offered his grace to us before we knew we needed it. When we accept that justifying grace, made real in the person of Jesus Christ, we begin the transforming journey toward perfection that marks us as holy, set apart, completed in God’s eyes, and welcomed into his family. This is the essence of Wesleyan theology. It’s why we are here.

But we aren’t there yet. Perfection seems a long way down the road sometimes, doesn’t it? What is preventing us from being perfect, from becoming complete? Right now, I invite you to write down just one thing you believe is holding you back from living into your God-given identity. There’s blank space on the back of your Grapevine, so use that. Write down just one thing — one fear, one memory, one hurt, one resentment — that keeps you from embracing and becoming the person God wants you to be. This week, as you check the Grapevine for events on the calendar, pray over that one thing. Ask God to help you turn it over to him, so you can be transformed, changed, made perfect.

God only wants one thing for each of us, and that is to be transformed into his likeness, to become perfect and complete, as God is perfect and complete. I invite you to share your life in this community of faith with people who are not in this community of faith, not so we can fill the pews – because those numbers really don’t mean anything – but so that you can experience what happens in you when you do that. Just as it is true that teaching someone else how to do something we’ve just learned will solidify that learning for us, and help us internalize it, sharing your faith with others will deepen that faith within you. And that’s what I’m eager to see. Not numbers, but change. Not more bodies, but deeper, richer, more complete faith. Then together, as we let God work on us, we can join the United Methodist Church in its mission to “Make disciples of Jesus Christ for the transformation of the world.” Amen.

A Word for Children – Brownies Aren’t Done Until…

Photo used with permission from April Fool Virtual Bakery. Thanks, Mark!

Last weekend, as members of our church council gathered together, Jane S. gave a great devotional message about the importance of our various gifts. God has given each of us a particular set of talents and abilities, and God wants us to use these gifts well as we grow in our faith. But, as I was thinking about today’s scripture, it occurred to me that the same example Jane used to teach us about our gifts could also apply to the thing Jesus tells us today (Matthew 5:48). As Jesus was teaching his followers about the way God works, he kept telling them, “I expect more out of you than just following the rules. I want you to be changed into something new. I want you to be perfect, completely like God, so you can show the rest of the world how much God loves every single person on earth.”  That sounds impossible, doesn’t it? But we don’t change into something new by ourselves: God does it. And it doesn’t happen in the blink of an eye – it takes a while.

So here’s the deal: I have some ingredients here, and I need you to help me change them into something new. (Distribute ingredients for Brownies, each in its own resealable bag) Do all these ingredients look like something you would want to eat? If we mixed them up together, what do you think we would get? (Cream together butter and sugar, add egg, then flour, baking powder, cocoa, salt) Now what do we have? It has changed, but can we eat it yet? Can you tell what it’s going to be? (Spread batter into pan) They aren’t brownies until we bake them, so let’s get some help with that. (Give an adult the brownies for baking in the church kitchen during the rest of worship) Just like the brownies, we aren’t done yet. God is still working inside each of us to change us into people who make the world a better place. He’s making each of us more and more like him every day, just like those brownies, baking in the oven, will become more and more like something you could eat after church. Let’s pray.

God, keep working on us to make us more like you. Change us into people who care more, who help more, who love more, so we can be more like Jesus. Amen.

Quiet Time

Never underestimate the value of silence. As a music teacher, I rarely listened to the radio on my way home from school. I had been singing. listening, and playing music all day. What I needed more than anything was simple silence. As a pastor, I am finding that the time I spend in silence is what grounds me and makes it possible for me to listen fully to others. “Be still, and know that I am God,” we read in Psalm 46:10, but do we really know how to do that?

Of course, the moment I sit down to “be still” with God is the moment I am bombarded with thoughts that drown out God’s voice. It takes a conscious effort to stop the constant chatter of my brain, and be present and still before my Maker, Redeemer, and Sustainer. Yet, I am learning that this stillness before the Lord is more than an opportunity to “fill my spiritual fuel tank” or reorganize my thoughts. It is the very essence of following Jesus to draw near to him and listen. As I do this, I am transformed more and more into the grace-filled creature I was always meant to be.

It would be so sweet to stay in that silent space, to remain apart and “just be” with Jesus. But I can’t do that. While Jesus often sought solitude, he never stayed alone for long. There is a tender balance between quiet solitude and the noisy, messy business of doing ministry. Following Jesus means embracing both worlds with passion and joy. Let it be so.

Sacred Pace

One morning, a few years ago, I followed a young couple through a college campus on my way to an appointment. These two, walking with their arms around each other’s waists, walked in perfect step, steadily and rhythmically. Their pace was not hurried, but neither were they strolling slowly. I could keep up with them, but I felt no urgency to move past them as we walked the same path through the campus. As I watched them, I realized they were not consciously working at staying in step with each other. The rhythm of their walk was perfectly timed, and very natural. They were at peace.

I thought about walking with Jesus that way. Keeping a sacred pace that was neither too fast nor too slow, a pace that came naturally, allowing me to talk with Jesus while staying in perfect step with the Master. The young couple reminded me that in order to maintain ‘sacred pace’ we must keep in step with Jesus, and let him keep his arm around us as we embrace him in return.  We must also keep our arms around each other as we walk together. Sometimes it is slow, so slow, in contrast to our daily frenzy.

As I shared these thoughts with a friend, he said, “Yes, but sometimes it means gearing up.” Sometimes, we need to add some energy to our steps, lengthen our stride, and work to keep up with Jesus as he leads us along the pathway. Sometimes, sacred pace may even mean gearing up into a full, exhilarating run. Keeping in step with Jesus could make us break a sweat.

Finding that sacred pace is not so much about speeding up or forcing myself to slow down. It isn’t about speed. It has more to do with staying aware of the pace set by the One who moves beside us, and maintaining a rhythm. It’s about being in step and keeping your arms around each other’s waists, walking in an embrace with Christ. Early Pietists asked one another a question that we might do well to repeat to one another, too: “How goes your walk with the Lord?” Are you keeping sacred pace?

This is the message we have heard from him and proclaim to you, that God is light, and in him is no darkness at all. If we say we have fellowship with him while we walk in darkness, we lie and do not practice the truth. But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus his Son cleanses us from all sin. – I John 1:5-7