We are studying the model of St. Benedict for Christian living. The Anglican ethos is derived from the monasticism which dominates English Christian history. A brief survey of the most significant figures in evangelizing this land reveals a large number of monks. The role of the monastery continued to shape and form the English (and later Episcopal) manner of worship and fellowship.
(for more info copy go to this website)
http://www.newadvent.org/cathen/02467b.htm
Benedict was born during the time of Rome's decline (c483) which is why his rule is especially significant to us today. This association (i.e. "The Benedictines") emerged from the chaotic period of the pagan 'reformation' (de-formation) of the Roman Empire. Much of the learning and greatness of that society were lost (hence, the term "Dark Ages") and the monks were the link between modern and ancient time. As we watch with trepidation the problems facing us today (parallels to Rome) it is worthwhile to embrace a model which has proven to be "successful and sustainable" over time and space. Benedict has a tested approach.
With that in mind we are studying the book St. Benedict's Toolbox by Jane Tomaine. It is a helpful approach to implementing the Benedictine way. There are numerous other great books on Benedict (including The Rule and various commentaries upon it). [The Benedictine was is broad so be aware that a wide range of folks are drawn to it. Like Bible commentaries, people tend to "find" what they "bring" to the text.] It is meant as a guide book, with the advantages and disadvantages of such an approach.
The way of Benedict can be summarized as seeking Jesus, always and everywhere, in community, through a disciplined life of prayer, work and study. Obviously, such a model is adaptable to all manner of circumstances and Benedictine monks have thrived in various places and conditions. The rule is aimed at laymen and does not have a clerical focus. It is a rule of life which can be helpful in ordering a local parish/church. Obviously, our Christian communities are made up of 'nuclear families' which gather for prayer. We do not all live in one monastery together. Yet, we can still find some operating principles in the guidance of this holy man.
The Benedictine model is God-seeking, Christ-seeking, brother/sister loving and ordinary. The last component is most significant. The Jewish Bible is replete with stories of people just trying to live on the earth in relationship with God. The Lord's command to be fruitful and multiply is mundane. Most of us will never have a remarkable mystical experience, hear voices or have a robust spiritual life with all manner of amazing connections with God. Most of us will eat and sleep, laugh and cry, say our prayers and trust God's mercy. We will live ordinary lives (which find hope in our belief in God, even if He is 'quieter' than we like).
The Way of Benedict is to understand the ordinary is God's preferred mode of interaction. He comes in and through concrete reality. (I have written about this often). Our task, if you will, is to remember God throughout the day. It is an awareness/gift and also a discipline/work. One can be overwhelmed by a sudden inflow of awareness or one can sit in silence and focus. Sometimes it is both! In the days ahead I want to share some insights from the learned master from the 6th Century. It is a journey worth taking together.
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Wednesday, October 16, 2013
Sunday, October 13, 2013
Thanks!
see Luke 17:11-19 (the healing of the ten lepers)
Jesus
provides us with a guide for living. He never asked anyone, “If you died
tonight do you know where you would go?” His vision goes far beyond “going to heaven.”
He is centered on the Kingdom of God—a
Jewish concept permeating the entire Jewish Bible. Everyone knew God is king.
The surprise is God’s offer of inclusion extending to the last, least, lost and
outsiders.
In
ancient times being a citizen was a special status. Not just anyone was a
citizen and few people had any hope of that status. This was true of Roman
citizenship. It was also true of the Jewish understanding of their covenant
status. Outsiders remained outsiders without any assumption of rights.
For
Jesus’ hearers, God’s offer of citizenship in His kingdom was a great grace and
an unfathomable blessing. Even more amazing, entry to the kingdom was at Jesus’
invitation. “Trust Me,” Jesus said, “and you will have Life with God the Father.”
This Grace does not mean, however, that there are no expectations. Becoming a
citizen is always a process and being a citizen includes expectations. You make
an oath of loyalty to God. You live under God’s laws. It is worth it because
you can enjoy abundant life and freedoms spelled out in the Gospel. There great
benefits, far greater than the cost (hence it is always grace) but do not be
deceived, there is a cost. To quote Jesus, the cost is “everything.”
The
last few weeks in our Sunday Gospels Jesus has taught us what allegiance to the
Father and citizenship in the kingdom look like. It is very challenging. There
are several keys: love and faith are primary. After these, (especially in Luke)
it seems Jesus is quite focused on a right relationship to money and the virtue
of mercy and forgiveness.
The
Christian citizen is expected to treasure God over everything else, especially
mammon. Jesus commands us to be generous with it. He warns us against pleonexia. (Literally the obsession with
‘having more’)
The
Christian citizen is also expected to be merciful in imitation of the Father.
God has forgiven us and we are told to do the same to those who hurt us. This
is very hard to do, especially if you have been deeply hurt. Focusing on our
sins rather than our hurts, however, reveals that even if we are victims, we
are not innocent. We can forgive and trust God to be just in His judgment. We
must learn to love, even the unlovable
Since
generosity and mercy are so hard why does Jesus demand them? Because …
·
Greed
kills us. If we are never satisfied we can never be happy. It makes us envious
of others and bitter about what we do not have. It cuts us off from God.
·
So
also is unforgiveness; which Jesus called a deep rooted tree producing bitter
fruit. We spend too much time counting our wounds and focusing on our pain; unable
to give mercy we are also unable to receive it. (So says Jesus over and over)
Today
we see the third component, gratitude, which ties the other two together.
Saying
thank you is hard when you are greedy. It
is hard to be grateful when you constantly want more. How can you be thankful
for what you get, after all, when it is never enough? Anger and bitterness are
not fertile ground for gratitude either. When we feel entitlement we focus on
what we are owed. When something bad happens and we harbor that anger and
resentment, then gratitude gets choked off.
It
is not easy to be thankful, unless one realizes everything is a gift. Nine men
didn’t return to thank Jesus. Why? We know why. We are frequently part of the
group of nine. Every day we take countless blessings for granted because, well,
because we expect blessings. One man, however, did return in thanks. Jesus said
he was “a foreigner.” (Don’t you love how Jesus is never politically correct!)
The foreigner has no expectation of blessing from the God of Israel. Nor should
he. As such his eyes are open to the wondrous gift he received. [American culture
is so driven by expectations and rights that we cannot fathom such an attitude,
and so we can not generate such gratitude…]
The man who returned to give thanks, a
Samaritan, is yet another role model of an outsider saved by his faith. It is
our calling to open our eyes to see we deserve nothing. We are owed nothing.
Everything we get is a blessing. It is time to give thanks (in Greek, eucharist) for our citizenship in God’s
Kingdom. It is time to say thanks. A hundred, a thousand, ten thousand times
each day.
Saturday, October 12, 2013
Living in Someone Else's World
http://bible.oremus.org/?passage=Jeremiah+29%3A1%2C+4-7
The first reading this weekend was from Jeremiah 29:1, 4-7. If you copy and paste above it will open up a link to read it. Jeremiah is addressing the exiles in a letter he wrote to them. These are people, real live human beings, whose nation had been over-run and conquered by a foreign power. These same people had seen many of their leaders massacred. Their sacred places ransacked. Their homes looted. The terrors and pain are echoed in the book of Lamentations. Every generation has its own stories of displaced people... Anyone paying attention knows that things can change quickly. We may be them some day.
What is stunning about the letter is Jeremiah's advice. To paraphrase, he says, live in that foreign land the same way you lived in your own. Do the normal things of life: get married, engage in commerce, raise your kids. There are multiple references to having kids, ending with multiply there, and do not increase. The Hebrew word, rabah, means to multiply. It occurs twenty three times in Genesis, beginning with 1:22 where God gives the first (chronologically) command to people: be fruitful and multiply. It is repeated to Noah in the "second creation" after the flood (Gen 9:7). It is also tied to God's promise to Abraham (16:10; 17:2; 22:17) then Isaac (26:4; 26:24) and, finally, Jacob (35:11). That God will multiply His people is at the core of the promise. The covenant continues even in a foreign land. Exile may be awful but it is not God-less.
The task of making families is not often understood as the most sacred trust. It is easy to be unimpressed by mere biological survival. It seems "unspiritual" (which it is, in the sense that it is anti-Gnostic). It is an insight into God that such things as making babies and living life are pleasing to Him. It is a sanctification of the ordinary.
I am reminded that the central Christian sacraments are basically bathing and eating. God is present to us, saving and renewing, through those mundane, yet wonderful activities. The letter of Jeremiah reminds us that wherever we are, and to some extent all human existence is exile (we were meant for the Garden after all, and living east of Eden is not a Garden existence...). And being at home in some ways may give way to being in exile in others. I do not easily fit into the Episcopal church. At times that is painful. I always feel a little bit 'foreign.' Yet, in that exile I am reminded to go about daily life, faithfully. And faith-filled-ly, too.
Jeremiah concludes that we are to pray for the leadership in exile. Sage advice in a time when political conflict is so vicious. I wonder how many Christian conservatives truly pray with love in their heart for Obama and Democrats. I wonder if Progressive Christians are any more likely to pray for Republicans who run state houses. My guess is most of us are keenly aware of the "bite" of living in exile. My guess is we are less aware of our connections. It is something I ponder this night as I read someone else's mail which was written a long time ago.
The first reading this weekend was from Jeremiah 29:1, 4-7. If you copy and paste above it will open up a link to read it. Jeremiah is addressing the exiles in a letter he wrote to them. These are people, real live human beings, whose nation had been over-run and conquered by a foreign power. These same people had seen many of their leaders massacred. Their sacred places ransacked. Their homes looted. The terrors and pain are echoed in the book of Lamentations. Every generation has its own stories of displaced people... Anyone paying attention knows that things can change quickly. We may be them some day.
What is stunning about the letter is Jeremiah's advice. To paraphrase, he says, live in that foreign land the same way you lived in your own. Do the normal things of life: get married, engage in commerce, raise your kids. There are multiple references to having kids, ending with multiply there, and do not increase. The Hebrew word, rabah, means to multiply. It occurs twenty three times in Genesis, beginning with 1:22 where God gives the first (chronologically) command to people: be fruitful and multiply. It is repeated to Noah in the "second creation" after the flood (Gen 9:7). It is also tied to God's promise to Abraham (16:10; 17:2; 22:17) then Isaac (26:4; 26:24) and, finally, Jacob (35:11). That God will multiply His people is at the core of the promise. The covenant continues even in a foreign land. Exile may be awful but it is not God-less.
The task of making families is not often understood as the most sacred trust. It is easy to be unimpressed by mere biological survival. It seems "unspiritual" (which it is, in the sense that it is anti-Gnostic). It is an insight into God that such things as making babies and living life are pleasing to Him. It is a sanctification of the ordinary.
I am reminded that the central Christian sacraments are basically bathing and eating. God is present to us, saving and renewing, through those mundane, yet wonderful activities. The letter of Jeremiah reminds us that wherever we are, and to some extent all human existence is exile (we were meant for the Garden after all, and living east of Eden is not a Garden existence...). And being at home in some ways may give way to being in exile in others. I do not easily fit into the Episcopal church. At times that is painful. I always feel a little bit 'foreign.' Yet, in that exile I am reminded to go about daily life, faithfully. And faith-filled-ly, too.
Jeremiah concludes that we are to pray for the leadership in exile. Sage advice in a time when political conflict is so vicious. I wonder how many Christian conservatives truly pray with love in their heart for Obama and Democrats. I wonder if Progressive Christians are any more likely to pray for Republicans who run state houses. My guess is most of us are keenly aware of the "bite" of living in exile. My guess is we are less aware of our connections. It is something I ponder this night as I read someone else's mail which was written a long time ago.
Sunday, October 6, 2013
Sorry
Increase our Faith
(Meditation on Luke 17)
In Luke 17:5ff,
the request for ‘more faith’ follows a particularly challenging demand of
Jesus. (17:1-4) Jesus says that disciples must forgive offenders every
time they say “I am sorry.” (Seven is
the symbolic number for fullness, i.e., The Apocalypse). In light of this crazy
demand, the disciples make their request. How can we do such a thing? We need
more faith.
What does Jesus
say? Note that Jesus says “you could say to this
sycamine tree.” He is making a parable, a comparison, between unforgiveness and
the tree. Why? A sycamine was a large tree, it could grow to thirty feet, with
an immense root system. Because of the immense underground network, it is a
hearty tree, difficult to kill and it thrives in the harsh, dry climate of the Middle East. Its fruit is a fig, similar in appearance to
the Mulberry tree with one big difference. While rich people ate the sweet figs
of the mulberry, the Sycamine produces a bitter fruit. It is too bitter to eat
more than a nibble at a time... As such, it was the food of the poorest classes,
serving to fill the belly with little taste delight. In addition, caskets were
made of sycamine wood.
The symbolism is obvious.
Jesus is calling unforgiveness the tree of bitterness and death. He says that
if we had faith (the small speck/mustard seed illustrates that any faith at all
is enough) then we could be free of this bitterness which keeps us from
forgiving others. We would be free from the deep rooted resentment and anger
which is only good for making caskets. We would be free from something that
seems impossible to kill off.
This makes sense
of what follows: the servant role. Our job is to forgive, and when we do we get no parade. Jesus expects it. Let’s walk through it. The Christian
(servant of Jesus) duty is to proclaim the Gospel. What is the Gospel? It is
the Good News that God’s Kingdom is breaking in among us, as SALVATION,
particularly in and through the ministry of Jesus. One key component of Kingdom
and Salvation is RECONCILIATION.
The catechism (p855)
says: “the mission of the church is to restore ALL people to unity with God and
each other in Christ.” The “each other” thing is the hard part. That is why
Jesus, again and again, tells us that if we want the Father’s mercy we must
show mercy to one another.
The most powerful
preaching of the Gospel always begins with the words, “I forgive you.” [Whether it be a personal forgiveness or the Jesus given power to forgive sins by churchfolks....] Forgiveness
is NEVER earned and never deserved; and Jesus makes that clear with His
reference to “seven times a day.” If someone is hurting me seven times a day,
how seriously can I take their apology???? Well, do you sin seven times a day?
Sadly, I usually top seven before breakfast. SO if I am constantly sinning and
telling God “sorry” perhaps I need to recognize that my apologies sound pretty
weak, too.
God made a physical
world, in which and through which His love and grace are
made available to us in this time and place. Jesus emphasizes our role
in distributing the love, mercy, and, forgiveness to the undeserving. And let’s
be clear, the undeserving are also very needy. I know, I am totally
undeserving and I need it so bad….
Forgiveness saves.
It frees us of the debt we owe. If we believe in forgiveness we get freed. We
can others. Our mission is that faith in action and it is our duty as His
servant.
Believe in
Forgiveness. Believe in forgiving others.
Repeat seven times
a day.
(I will not be blogging the rest of this week. God bless!)
Friday, October 4, 2013
Francis
Today is October 4, the feast of St. Francis. He is probably the most popular Christian saint and ranks among the best known. In seminary I was especially interested in him and even did a history paper on him. Reading a half dozen biographies (including GK Chesterton's wonderful take which you can find here: http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/174873.Saint_Francis_of_Assisi) and actually visiting Assisi a couple of times I think some of my core understanding of Jesus and the Gospel call was much shaped by this man who died over seven hundred years before I was born.
Francis' life is worthy of much more than a blog summary. Suffice to say he was a product of the middle ages and especially impacted by the troubador movement. Raised in the relative affluence of the emerging "middle class" of 13th Century Italy (his father was a cloth merchant) young John (he was nicknamed 'the little Frenchman, hence, Francis) had dreams of being a hero. Dressed up in his armor he road off to war, was captured and spent a miserable time locked up prior to being released after payment of a ransom. The events changed him and his return to the life of a party boy seems to have been halfhearted. As he and his compatriots ran the streets of Assisi one night it is said he did not keep up. One of the revelers turned back and found Francis wandering with a lost look on his face. "I am in love," the young Francis reportedly said, "with the fairest woman I have ever seen." Later, we learn, he had fallen in love with Lady Poverty. And so began his journey to embracing a life of radical renunciation.
His efforts to follow Jesus more seriously led to extensive prayer in a small chapel not far from the town. [I have been there in prayer myself on a couple of occasions] One day as Francis knelt before the iconic crucifix he heard the voice of Jesus. "Francis, rebuild my church which you can see is falling down." Taking the words literally, Francis began energetically gathering stones and doing repairs to several area churches. It would be some time before he figured out that the church meant the people. In 13th Century Italy Christians had lost their way. They needed a holy man to lead them back to Jesus.
Francis' love for the poor motivated him to give away much of his father's wealth, something which caused his father great irritation. The local bishop was called in to mediate the problem and Francis was told that his duties to his father precluded such behavior. In a profound act of renunciation, Francis accepted the bishop's decision and then proceeded to strip naked and return "everything" to his father and declare himself unattached to the family. He was solely committed to Jesus (and Lady Poverty). It is said that the embarrassed bishop placed his own cloak around the young prophet. It is painful indeed for the professional religious to encounter true holiness. Yet, we do well to also see the full humanity of the situation and remember the idealism of youth and the difficult passage of young people into adulthood. As I get older I understand the father's side.
There are many stories about Francis, among my favorites are these. He preached the Gospel to birds which patiently gathered and listened. He tamed a wolf which had been wreaking havoc at a nearby village, making it the "pet" of all that town. When he and St. Clare were at prayer in the woods one night a volunteer fire brigade ran with buckets to put out the blaze, only to find the two saints beaming with blinding brightness as their mystical union with God erupted in divine light. The list of miracles and unusual events culminated with him receiving the marks of the crucifixion in his own body. Called the stigmata (some others have also had this), doctors and psychologist give various explanation of the phenomenon, Francis' desire to share in the life of Jesus included his suffering. It is hard to know what is history and what is pious legend in these and other stories, but what is clear is the man must have been remarkable and done remarkable things--remarkable enough that such stories were told about him.
Francis' commitment to not having and not owning, ironically, proved impossible. He quickly inspired by his example other young Christians to join him. Soon he was a movement and the holy man ended up creating the fastest growing order in Europe. Rules and governance became necessary. Figuring out how to house and care for such a large group (too many to rely simply on begging) got out of control. Francis was made to turn over leadership to another. Soon Francis' simple (and simplistic) approach to faith and preaching was replaced by scholarship and learning. One of his followers, Bonaventure, is among the brightest of Medieval thinkers. It is safe to say that the "success" of Francis movement broke his heart. The simple life of poverty, holiness and love of Jesus which he embraced was not easily translated into the society of Friars Minor. It is no wonder. Less extraordinary people than Francis found it difficult to completely understand and totally practice his virtues. It may well be that Francis is one of a small group who 'perfectly' embraced the Gospel call of Jesus. Such is what we may all aspire to; though without the grace and commitment of the little holy man of Assisi.
It is said the Francis apologized to his body (which he called brother ass) for the harsh treatment to which he subjected it through the many long fasts and harsh penances. He once fasted for forty days eating only one loaf of bread (because in humility he wanted to do less than Jesus did). He died in his early forties, blind and in great pain. He asked to die on the floor, his last act of embracing poverty and giving up everything for Jesus. In many ways he felt a failure. He had lost control of his order and thought himself a failure.But he truly loved Jesus and tried to live the life Jesus spells out in the Gospel. For that witness we are all eternally in his debt.
Any who read his life will find themselves both affected and repulsed. The purity of his faith and the integrity of his discipleship are such that his life is an act of preaching the glory of God. Yet, that same purity is so completely foreign to the compromised life which I live that it is too much to bear. Creature comforts and regular meals are too much a part of the Christian life style around here. Like that bishop, I am ashamed in the presence of the naked prophet who renounces everything to embrace Jesus alone.
It has been a long time ago that I read Francis. I was younger and more idealistic then. Perhaps I do not often revisit his life because I recognize my own shabby version of discipleship? Perhaps I am ashamed to be in his presence? I do not know. What I do know is digging into all these memories has stirred my heart and soul. It makes me want to read of him again. And it makes me wonder if, having lived now some fifteen years longer than Francis did, have I still only lived half as much?
Francis' life is worthy of much more than a blog summary. Suffice to say he was a product of the middle ages and especially impacted by the troubador movement. Raised in the relative affluence of the emerging "middle class" of 13th Century Italy (his father was a cloth merchant) young John (he was nicknamed 'the little Frenchman, hence, Francis) had dreams of being a hero. Dressed up in his armor he road off to war, was captured and spent a miserable time locked up prior to being released after payment of a ransom. The events changed him and his return to the life of a party boy seems to have been halfhearted. As he and his compatriots ran the streets of Assisi one night it is said he did not keep up. One of the revelers turned back and found Francis wandering with a lost look on his face. "I am in love," the young Francis reportedly said, "with the fairest woman I have ever seen." Later, we learn, he had fallen in love with Lady Poverty. And so began his journey to embracing a life of radical renunciation.
His efforts to follow Jesus more seriously led to extensive prayer in a small chapel not far from the town. [I have been there in prayer myself on a couple of occasions] One day as Francis knelt before the iconic crucifix he heard the voice of Jesus. "Francis, rebuild my church which you can see is falling down." Taking the words literally, Francis began energetically gathering stones and doing repairs to several area churches. It would be some time before he figured out that the church meant the people. In 13th Century Italy Christians had lost their way. They needed a holy man to lead them back to Jesus.
Francis' love for the poor motivated him to give away much of his father's wealth, something which caused his father great irritation. The local bishop was called in to mediate the problem and Francis was told that his duties to his father precluded such behavior. In a profound act of renunciation, Francis accepted the bishop's decision and then proceeded to strip naked and return "everything" to his father and declare himself unattached to the family. He was solely committed to Jesus (and Lady Poverty). It is said that the embarrassed bishop placed his own cloak around the young prophet. It is painful indeed for the professional religious to encounter true holiness. Yet, we do well to also see the full humanity of the situation and remember the idealism of youth and the difficult passage of young people into adulthood. As I get older I understand the father's side.
There are many stories about Francis, among my favorites are these. He preached the Gospel to birds which patiently gathered and listened. He tamed a wolf which had been wreaking havoc at a nearby village, making it the "pet" of all that town. When he and St. Clare were at prayer in the woods one night a volunteer fire brigade ran with buckets to put out the blaze, only to find the two saints beaming with blinding brightness as their mystical union with God erupted in divine light. The list of miracles and unusual events culminated with him receiving the marks of the crucifixion in his own body. Called the stigmata (some others have also had this), doctors and psychologist give various explanation of the phenomenon, Francis' desire to share in the life of Jesus included his suffering. It is hard to know what is history and what is pious legend in these and other stories, but what is clear is the man must have been remarkable and done remarkable things--remarkable enough that such stories were told about him.
Francis' commitment to not having and not owning, ironically, proved impossible. He quickly inspired by his example other young Christians to join him. Soon he was a movement and the holy man ended up creating the fastest growing order in Europe. Rules and governance became necessary. Figuring out how to house and care for such a large group (too many to rely simply on begging) got out of control. Francis was made to turn over leadership to another. Soon Francis' simple (and simplistic) approach to faith and preaching was replaced by scholarship and learning. One of his followers, Bonaventure, is among the brightest of Medieval thinkers. It is safe to say that the "success" of Francis movement broke his heart. The simple life of poverty, holiness and love of Jesus which he embraced was not easily translated into the society of Friars Minor. It is no wonder. Less extraordinary people than Francis found it difficult to completely understand and totally practice his virtues. It may well be that Francis is one of a small group who 'perfectly' embraced the Gospel call of Jesus. Such is what we may all aspire to; though without the grace and commitment of the little holy man of Assisi.
It is said the Francis apologized to his body (which he called brother ass) for the harsh treatment to which he subjected it through the many long fasts and harsh penances. He once fasted for forty days eating only one loaf of bread (because in humility he wanted to do less than Jesus did). He died in his early forties, blind and in great pain. He asked to die on the floor, his last act of embracing poverty and giving up everything for Jesus. In many ways he felt a failure. He had lost control of his order and thought himself a failure.But he truly loved Jesus and tried to live the life Jesus spells out in the Gospel. For that witness we are all eternally in his debt.
Any who read his life will find themselves both affected and repulsed. The purity of his faith and the integrity of his discipleship are such that his life is an act of preaching the glory of God. Yet, that same purity is so completely foreign to the compromised life which I live that it is too much to bear. Creature comforts and regular meals are too much a part of the Christian life style around here. Like that bishop, I am ashamed in the presence of the naked prophet who renounces everything to embrace Jesus alone.
It has been a long time ago that I read Francis. I was younger and more idealistic then. Perhaps I do not often revisit his life because I recognize my own shabby version of discipleship? Perhaps I am ashamed to be in his presence? I do not know. What I do know is digging into all these memories has stirred my heart and soul. It makes me want to read of him again. And it makes me wonder if, having lived now some fifteen years longer than Francis did, have I still only lived half as much?
Thursday, October 3, 2013
Dire Straights
We are reading about King Hezekiah at Morning Prayer. He was highly thought of by the author of 2 Kings 18 "He trusted in the Lord...so that there was no one like him among all the kings of Judah after him, or among those who were before him." (Though it is noteworthy that Josiah is praised similarly in 2 Kings 23:25 "Before him there was no king like him, who turned to the Lord with all his heart"). Typically the kings who ruled in Israel or Judah get less glowing assessments. If we sometimes feel bereft of good leadership it is fair to say that this is consistent with the biblical record!
In 2 Chronicles, which provides a parallel "history" (much like the Four Gospels), chapter 30 makes mention of a Passover celebration. We are told that couriers went from city to city inviting the people of Israel to come celebrate at the temple in Judah. Many were called but few responded positively (30:10 they laughed them to scorn) and the language recalls Jesus' parable of the wedding feast. What is interesting is a large number of those who showed up were not cleansed, yet they ate the passover otherwise than as prescribed. The king intervened and prayed, "the good Lord pardon all who set their hearts to seek God, the Lord the God of their ancestors, even though they are not in accordance with the sanctuary's rules of cleanness." There were other times in the past when God smote those who were not in accord with expectations. It is a pure mercy of God to allow those in His presence who are not cleansed and in a proper state. While we may think this shows that God does not care about the trifles of liturgical worship or Jewish ritual purity, such an interpretation would be an error. The prophetic record makes it clear that God's wrath is showered on those who are not in accord with His expectations. We do well to appreciate God's mercy but not to presume it or take liberties in light of it.
The story continues with the threat of King Sennacherib of Assyria. He had successfully overthrown Israel and dispersed its people across his kingdom. The "lost tribes of Israel" refers to those people who were placed in pagan lands and disappeared as an identified group. [The truth seems to be that a people can lose their identity before God, something the Christian peoples of western culture seem hellbent on doing right now.] The Assyrian emissaries tell those in Judah that there is no hope for them in their God. Instead, the king says, "trust in me for food and life." He employs language which in other places is used of God. Clearly, he is being set up as a false deity (and a model for Apocalyptic portrayals of the enemies of God). Over and over he warns not to trust YHWH to deliver and calls God a false hope and a deceiver. The Assyrian king's arrogance is grounded in reality. He asks, "Who among all the gods of the countries have delivered their countries out of my hand that the Lord should deliver Jerusalem out of my hand?"
As I prayed over this text I find myself wondering who was my Assyrian king? Who threatens me? What threat appears unstoppable and what does the data tell me of hopelessness. I found several. These are not the best of days for a traditional churchman or Christian. I know how the story will end, we will read it tomorrow I assume. But enough to face the threat today.
Sometimes our own uncleanness can get in the way of true and pleasing worship. Other times enemies emerge who make threats which appear viable. Sometimes, through our own fault or the agency of another, we find ourselves in dire straights. Sometimes it looks like hope is futile, that there is no way out. It is times such as these that our faith must sustain us. Perhaps we will be smitten. Perhaps we will be overrun. Perhaps all will turn out badly. But even then God is God. Even then God reigns. Even then, in death, there can be new beginnings and resurrection. But sometimes God makes an early entrance. He wipes us clean and allows us to celebrate in His presence. He wipes away the threat of the king of Assyria--in whatever from that takes in your life. Whatever God chooses to do, we can be confident it is for the best. So trust and be of stout heart!
In 2 Chronicles, which provides a parallel "history" (much like the Four Gospels), chapter 30 makes mention of a Passover celebration. We are told that couriers went from city to city inviting the people of Israel to come celebrate at the temple in Judah. Many were called but few responded positively (30:10 they laughed them to scorn) and the language recalls Jesus' parable of the wedding feast. What is interesting is a large number of those who showed up were not cleansed, yet they ate the passover otherwise than as prescribed. The king intervened and prayed, "the good Lord pardon all who set their hearts to seek God, the Lord the God of their ancestors, even though they are not in accordance with the sanctuary's rules of cleanness." There were other times in the past when God smote those who were not in accord with expectations. It is a pure mercy of God to allow those in His presence who are not cleansed and in a proper state. While we may think this shows that God does not care about the trifles of liturgical worship or Jewish ritual purity, such an interpretation would be an error. The prophetic record makes it clear that God's wrath is showered on those who are not in accord with His expectations. We do well to appreciate God's mercy but not to presume it or take liberties in light of it.
The story continues with the threat of King Sennacherib of Assyria. He had successfully overthrown Israel and dispersed its people across his kingdom. The "lost tribes of Israel" refers to those people who were placed in pagan lands and disappeared as an identified group. [The truth seems to be that a people can lose their identity before God, something the Christian peoples of western culture seem hellbent on doing right now.] The Assyrian emissaries tell those in Judah that there is no hope for them in their God. Instead, the king says, "trust in me for food and life." He employs language which in other places is used of God. Clearly, he is being set up as a false deity (and a model for Apocalyptic portrayals of the enemies of God). Over and over he warns not to trust YHWH to deliver and calls God a false hope and a deceiver. The Assyrian king's arrogance is grounded in reality. He asks, "Who among all the gods of the countries have delivered their countries out of my hand that the Lord should deliver Jerusalem out of my hand?"
As I prayed over this text I find myself wondering who was my Assyrian king? Who threatens me? What threat appears unstoppable and what does the data tell me of hopelessness. I found several. These are not the best of days for a traditional churchman or Christian. I know how the story will end, we will read it tomorrow I assume. But enough to face the threat today.
Sometimes our own uncleanness can get in the way of true and pleasing worship. Other times enemies emerge who make threats which appear viable. Sometimes, through our own fault or the agency of another, we find ourselves in dire straights. Sometimes it looks like hope is futile, that there is no way out. It is times such as these that our faith must sustain us. Perhaps we will be smitten. Perhaps we will be overrun. Perhaps all will turn out badly. But even then God is God. Even then God reigns. Even then, in death, there can be new beginnings and resurrection. But sometimes God makes an early entrance. He wipes us clean and allows us to celebrate in His presence. He wipes away the threat of the king of Assyria--in whatever from that takes in your life. Whatever God chooses to do, we can be confident it is for the best. So trust and be of stout heart!
Wednesday, October 2, 2013
Ancient Jedi and Other Anomalies
Reading the Bible is a timeless exercise. Like any book it is hard not to read it in our current context and fail to grasp the "ancient" source. It is God's Word, living and true, and confronting us today. It is also God's Word then. It is also God's Word in and through a human author. The divine-human co-authorship, of course, it what makes it tricky to grasp.
One of my principles in reading to understand the Bible is incongruity. In other words, what does the typical Bible story "look" like and is the story/section we are reading aligned with that. The stories of Elijah and Elisha stand out as different from much else in the Jewish Bible.While the miraculous can be found elsewhere (e.g Exodus story in Torah) the two prophets in the Samuel/Kings collections are unique in the number and types of things we read.
In most of the narratives one encounters normal behavior (though sometimes sinful) but Elijah and Elisha are surrounded by the super powers of a Jedi master. They call down fire from heaven and consume armies. They do remarkable feats of physical endurance. They heal the sick and raise the dead. One of my favorites, 2 Kings 6, Elisha makes an iron axe head float in water, then he does a mind trick on an attacking army and leads them blindly into a trap. When the king excitedly asks, "Should I kill them?" Elisha (contrary to the stereotyped beliefs about the Old Testament) says, "No. Feed them and send them on their way home." In a curious twist, we read that Arameans no longer raided the land of Israel, followed immediately by King Ben-hadad mustering the army of Aram against Samaria (Northern Israel). Elijah does not die like other folks, he is swept up in fiery chariots. Like I said, there is not much congruity with the majority of stories found elsewhere in the Jewish bible.
For many, the fundamental issue in the Bible is history. When asked, "Is it true?" what they mean is "Did it happen in time and space exactly as recorded?" It seems that if you can say, "Yes" that you have solved the problems faced by the text. "Yes, it is true. Problem solved." However, I think the problem solved (historical) gives way to other, more pressing problems.
If fire from heaven was available to Elijah and Elisha, why not for Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel and the rest? If they have these "X Men" powers why don't others? Understanding the mind of God is not advanced much by answering True or False questions on historicity. Scripture is about meaning. Perhaps the most obvious is the ending of Jesus. The eye witnesses of Jesus' crucifixion could get the facts correct (and clarify the inconsistencies in our four gospels.). In fact, the eye witnesses knew much, much more about those details than you and I ever could. However, most of them did not know what they were seeing. They saw a guy on a cross. We see salvation. Think of the difference in knowing. We know a truth that no facts can reveal by simple observation. You cannot see the sins of the world absorbed into Jesus. That is one detail observation cannot attain. Yet in the end it is THE detail which matters most. So we see so much more, even though we were not there to see anything at all.
My quest is to ask the right questions about the Bible. It is to free folks from a defensiveness about history which blinds them to Truth. I do not know about the history of Ellijah and Elisha. I note the radical differences in their stories and others. I wonder why. But I also see the connections, over and over and over, to the Jesus story. Throughout the Gospels the story of Jesus reflects the stories of Elijah and Elisha. They are types of Christ. That is what matters. In all our reading the main quest is not for history, it is to find Jesus, hidden in every word of both Testaments. It is about Jesus. Always,
One of my principles in reading to understand the Bible is incongruity. In other words, what does the typical Bible story "look" like and is the story/section we are reading aligned with that. The stories of Elijah and Elisha stand out as different from much else in the Jewish Bible.While the miraculous can be found elsewhere (e.g Exodus story in Torah) the two prophets in the Samuel/Kings collections are unique in the number and types of things we read.
In most of the narratives one encounters normal behavior (though sometimes sinful) but Elijah and Elisha are surrounded by the super powers of a Jedi master. They call down fire from heaven and consume armies. They do remarkable feats of physical endurance. They heal the sick and raise the dead. One of my favorites, 2 Kings 6, Elisha makes an iron axe head float in water, then he does a mind trick on an attacking army and leads them blindly into a trap. When the king excitedly asks, "Should I kill them?" Elisha (contrary to the stereotyped beliefs about the Old Testament) says, "No. Feed them and send them on their way home." In a curious twist, we read that Arameans no longer raided the land of Israel, followed immediately by King Ben-hadad mustering the army of Aram against Samaria (Northern Israel). Elijah does not die like other folks, he is swept up in fiery chariots. Like I said, there is not much congruity with the majority of stories found elsewhere in the Jewish bible.
For many, the fundamental issue in the Bible is history. When asked, "Is it true?" what they mean is "Did it happen in time and space exactly as recorded?" It seems that if you can say, "Yes" that you have solved the problems faced by the text. "Yes, it is true. Problem solved." However, I think the problem solved (historical) gives way to other, more pressing problems.
If fire from heaven was available to Elijah and Elisha, why not for Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel and the rest? If they have these "X Men" powers why don't others? Understanding the mind of God is not advanced much by answering True or False questions on historicity. Scripture is about meaning. Perhaps the most obvious is the ending of Jesus. The eye witnesses of Jesus' crucifixion could get the facts correct (and clarify the inconsistencies in our four gospels.). In fact, the eye witnesses knew much, much more about those details than you and I ever could. However, most of them did not know what they were seeing. They saw a guy on a cross. We see salvation. Think of the difference in knowing. We know a truth that no facts can reveal by simple observation. You cannot see the sins of the world absorbed into Jesus. That is one detail observation cannot attain. Yet in the end it is THE detail which matters most. So we see so much more, even though we were not there to see anything at all.
My quest is to ask the right questions about the Bible. It is to free folks from a defensiveness about history which blinds them to Truth. I do not know about the history of Ellijah and Elisha. I note the radical differences in their stories and others. I wonder why. But I also see the connections, over and over and over, to the Jesus story. Throughout the Gospels the story of Jesus reflects the stories of Elijah and Elisha. They are types of Christ. That is what matters. In all our reading the main quest is not for history, it is to find Jesus, hidden in every word of both Testaments. It is about Jesus. Always,
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