Saturday, March 27, 2010

Here ends our Reading

Read any portion of Jesus' journey in Jerusalem from chapter 19 onward. Chapters 22 +23 depict his Passion.

Well, friends: we have reached our destination: Jerusalem. And I have some thoughts to share on the Lenten journey we've been taking here online and at Hope as well.

1) As for the blog...this was a fascinating project. In the last few days, I have not been posting ahead of schedule as I did in the beginning. But in the weeks when I was on the ball, it was an amazing thing to be writing about the lectionary, planning for worship and midweek services, preparing sermons, and encountering our parishioners. Writing that much on the Word shaped how I interpreted my experience as one of your leaders and it gave me space to have insights I could then carry into church. I will continue to write something on-line or otherwise in the weeks ahead to stay sharp and in tune with the Holy Spirit.

2) I read a lovely essay by a scholar who I now cannot recall (maybe Melinda Quivik on workingpreacher.org) who cast the Lenten readings this year as stories about the collision of different kinds of power. And it was these conflicts that brought Jesus to the cross. She named Jesus vs. the Devil, Herod's oppressive rule vs. the sacrificial grace of the mother hen, Mary' discipleship vs. Judas' betrayal. Which side do we come down on? Jesus went to the cross freely to guarantee the answer to that question.

3) Today I read over my evaluations from Lenten participants who gave me feedback on the series. I encountered something wildly surprising. The one commonality among nearly every evaluation was the appreciation of silence. How amazing is that? I never would have suspected that would be the experience people responded to the most. That tells me that the congregation is hungry for the presence of God and that is a beautiful thing. I've also noticed recently that our members are hungry for the Word. I've encountered real craving for more unmediated encounters with scripture and questions of scripture in recent days. That too tells me there is hunger. And as I said a couple sermons ago, there is nothing Jesus loves better than a hungry human being.

4) I wish you a blessed and peaceful Holy Week. I look forward to our coming declaration of new life. Thank you for your participation and insights. If you want to tell me how this devotional format worked for you and how you used the postings, email me at internpastor@yahoo.com.

Your Sister in Christ,

I. Pastor Amy

Let us pray: God of mystery, we give thanks for the space you have made in us to greet you again and again in our lives. Strengthen and enliven us in the coming days that we might worthily magnify your Holy Name. Amen

Friday, March 26, 2010

Resisting One's Own Power

Read again Philippians 2:5-11.

"Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus, who though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited..." (verse 5).

This whole hymn is one of those pieces of scripture that has been formative for me. I had a small obsession with the Christians mystics ten or so years ago which was fueled by this very notion of self-emptying. The trouble though was that I found it impossible to achieve the kind of self-emptied state of being my mystical tutors seemed to reach. I think having a child and rock climbing when it involves sheer terror were the closest I ever got to releasing my self-awareness.

Now though, what catches me, what I wish I could model well is this idea of resisting the drive to exploit other people. In every aspect of my life, I am aware of my power to abuse my authority in an effort to get what I want, even if it's the best thing for the other person. It's easy to exploit my size and role over my daughter. It's easy to exploit the power a loved one gives me to manipulate my way to a desired end. And I'm ever mindful that although I am an intern, I've been given power. How do I use it? It's unpopular for Lutherans to look at living Christ-like lives. More than unpopular, it's discouraged as inconsistent with some of our beliefs. But there's something to be said for looking to God for some guidelines in loving other people, knowing full well we will fail sometimes. Christian life is wildly counter-cultural and goes against so many of our expectations. What would it look like if we all gave up our power?

Reflection
  • How do you resist exploiting your power over your circles of influence?
  • Are there aspects of Christ Jesus you make a conscious effort to incorporate into your daily living?
Prayer

God, we pray for strength and wisdom, especially in the days ahead. Help us to receive the gift of your death and new life, to know you more fully. Amen

Thursday, March 25, 2010

Humility and Understanding

Read Philippians 2:5-11.

"And being found in human form, he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death -- even death on a cross." (verse 7b-8).

A relative of mine just returned from a truth and reconciliation mission in a section of war-ravaged Africa. He is young and has seen things and heard stories that many of us may not be able to fathom. As you might imagine for a young guy with ideals and a generally positive attitude regarding human nature, he was pretty challenged overseas. He came home deeply cynical and is at a loss with how to frame this experience he has had.

I went through something similar in my early twenties. I preached about it a little last fall when I talked about the hope of apocalyptic literature, its bend toward justice, and how that meant something to me working in a huge urban high school where the forgotten were taught and harnessed from the streets. Lucky for me I had Kathleen Norris and Thomas Merton to put into theological terms human suffering. I remember reading a story about a murdered girl in Central America who died a horrible death, a martyr's death, and with the name of Jesus on her lips. Kathleen Norris speaks about her in her book The Cloister Walk. This episode was my insight into the point of the cross. IT'S STILL HAPPENING!! Jesus is crucified all the time. So if that's true, God takes every meaningless death and places it within a bigger story of the powerless and resurrection. My relative has no notion of saint and sinner or the redemption made possible by Jesus Christ, or even the idea of incarnate love which burned inside of him in Africa. I trust he's going to find a way though. I am thankful that when I seemed to need it, the self-emptying and humbling love of God made itself clear.

Reflection
  • When have you found yourself living out a Bible passage or story?
  • How do you make sense of seemingly meaningless loss of life?
Prayer

God of wonders who humbled yourself for us, how we need you and your ways with us to order our world. Be with us in our moments of doubt and temptation. Draw us to you when we find ourselves lost. This we ask in your Holy Name, Amen

Wednesday, March 24, 2010

The Word on Jesus' Mouth

Read Psalm 31:9-16.

"Let your face shine upon your servant; save me in your steadfast love" (verse 16)

Now go back and read the first nine verses. Do any of those words sound familiar? (I wonder why the lectionary selects out the first eight verses?) For a long time, I didn't realize that in scripture, when a short verse is quoted like Jesus quoting a line from a psalm, it is taken to mean he recited the whole psalm. So what does it mean that Jesus spoke all these words from the cross? Many things maybe. One - the psalms were Jesus' prayerbook, the words instilled in him in his Jewish upbringing, words to call upon in times of deep distress. Scripture was in his bones and blood. Two -- Jesus knows what it means to suffer as a human being, to spiral down in despair, to approach death, to feel the abandonment of others. And three -- maybe we are meant to hear Jesus' faith in God even as he depicts his crucifixion in such humiliating and horrifying terms. What does it mean to affirm life when surrounded by terror and alienation?

The language of the psalms is sometimes shocking. I sometimes find myself wondering if I experience things as deeply as these psalms portray human emotion. I'm kind of a head person anyway, so I would ask myself that. They are unsettling and I remind myself often that even if I myself cannot identify in full with such stark and sad words, someone somewhere can.

Reflection
  • How does it change the psalm for you to imagine Jesus breathing these last words on the cross?
  • In times of struggle and suffering, how has your faith been challenged or affirmed or both?
Prayer

Gracious God, give us the wisdom and the courage to declare life in our moments of isolation and death. We give thanks for your Word, the Word that nourishes us and connects us to you when You seem the most far away. We pray in the name of your precious Son, Jesus. Amen

Tuesday, March 23, 2010

Making sense of the Servant Songs

Read Isaiah 50:4-9a again.

"I gave my back to those who struck me, and my cheeks to those who pulled out my beard..." (verse 6)

I have always had trouble with the Servant Songs. In part because I don't like to think that such suffering is a requirement of the Christian life. That's because too often in history, people who suffer needlessly (like abused women) have made sense of their situations by framing it as their call. Sometimes the call is to get out of the suffering. A professor reminded me once that Jesus is the only one called to suffer. Sometimes we as human beings suffer as a result of this broken world, but it was not God's intention for us.

I also have trouble with the Servant Songs in Isaiah because the debate is open on whether or not they refer to Jesus Christ; there is an ongoing scholarly debate as to the identity of the Servant. Was it a prediction of Jesus or not? We'll never know. I tend to subscribe to the notion that it was not because I went to a Jewish university and was trained on these texts by Rabbis rather than Christian scholars. BUT, this is the thing...I see these songs as the soil out of which the seed of our Messiah grew up. This poetry of the Old Testament is the nutrients with which we understand Christ. So whether or not these Isaiah passages actually predict the coming of Christ, I'm not sure it even matters because even if it were NOT specific to Jesus, what it says is truthful when it comes to the overall picture of how God works. God takes suffering and turns it into vindication. God calls us to places where we are likely to struggle. The call of discipleship often comes at a great personal cost. God takes what is weak and uses it in unexpected and amazing ways. And this song is one aspect of earthen soil from which our Messiah as seed, sprouted and grew. This is just my take and there a good many who would disagree. What do you make of these songs?

Reflection
  • Scriptural poetry like this deals in humiliation. What unsettles you or strengthens you in these lines?
  • Who is called to suffer?
Prayer

God who suffered willingly for us, we give our unending thanks for your walk before us so that in our own days of trial and pain, we know you went first. In the name of your Son, Amen.


Monday, March 22, 2010

Thinking About the Poor Again.

Read Isaiah 50:4-9a.

"The Lord God has given me the tongue of a teacher..." (verse 4)

So as a teacher, I am always rethinking things, playing things over to see how I can improve something. I'm not going to talk about Isaiah for the moment because I've been thinking about Jesus' statement on the poor I wrote about Saturday. I couldn't shake that line even though I didn't preach on it. I read a short and cogent discussion of this line in Sundays and Seasons and the argument went like this: Jesus says the poor will always be with the disciples because that is where Christians are called to be. This idea just blew my mind, not because it is complex and "deep" but because it is so obvious once you read it that way. And it puts me in touch with the place inside of me that wonders what the point of my life is...in a good way. Am I with the poor, not the spiritualized poor, but the real poor?

Reflection
  • Where does your call take you?
  • Is there somewhere you long to be in communion with the poor but find your circumstances constrain you?
Prayer

Gracious God, we give thanks for your honesty, for reminders of our special reality as Christians. Help us to fulfill our call to the poor. Give us strength through your Son, Jesus Christ, Amen.

Saturday, March 20, 2010

Strange Final Words

Read again John 12:1-8.

"You always have the poor with you, but you do not always have me." (v. 8)

What a strange and sobering remark. How are we meant to take this statement from Jesus? I read the story to my husband whose lack of churchedness makes him a fabulous person to ask for first impressions. Before I could ask him what he thought, he said, "Huh," as in, that's interesting. I asked him to elaborate on the "huh," and he noted the oddity of the last remark by Jesus. "What do you hear him saying?" My husband responded, "I think he said that it's okay I want to get a porche and have a little self-indulgence once in awhile." I can't say I was convinced.

We spoke more about it and what really struck him as the central point was the depravity of Judas. Judas does what plenty of people do: he uses the poor for his own ends. But just what does that final remark mean; how are we to understand this statement? As a diminishment of the poor -- not likely even though it can read that way. As a reminder of reality to open our eyes to the invisible who accompany us? I don't really know. Maybe you do. I will say this however: this is not self-indulgence on Mary's part. It's hardly retail therapy or a mid-life crisis purchase. There is something else going on here around love of God and suffering and in the next few chapters, about footwashing as well.

Reflection
  • What do you hear in this story? What do you make of this last line?
  • What parts of you are like Judas? What parts are like Mary?
Prayer

Gracious God, receive our mourning and our outpouring of love. Know that we accompany you just as you do us through these trials. In the name of your Son, Jesus Christ, Amen