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

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

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.

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.

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

The Big Story

Read John 12:1-8.

"Mary 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. " (v. 3)

Here's what I notice this week...

1) I recommend reading this passage within the context of the whole Lazarus cycle and continuing to the gates of Jerusalem. The full force of Mary's act as well as the emotional tenor comes across in the wider context.

2) A pound of nard is an unbelievable amount of perfume. Think about the size of your pocket lip balm and imagine a pound of scented ointment. From the first miracle John describes when Jesus turned water into more wine imaginable for a wedding, this story reminds us of God's abundant gifts. Even on the eve of Jesus' ill-fated passage into Jerusalem, God's presence is marked by the experience of the overflowing, the more-than-enough, the filled.

3) This is the last meal before Jesus enters Jerusalem. It holds the foreshadow of death as well as the promise of resurrection. This is the delicate balance we carry into our own Holy Week travels.

4) The story reminds me of my first confirmation student. Many moon ago, I was a mentor to a student who didn't want to be confirmed in the church because already at fourteen years of age, she was highly suspect of institutional power. She was particularly wise to the ways of the church against women over the many centuries. Nonetheless, she agreed to go through with the program despite her skepticism. Funnily enough, she was one of the best proclaimers of the good news I have ever known. In the spring of her junior year, not long after Easter, her grandmother fell ill. On one of the family visits, her mother spent an afternoon washing her grandmother, tending to her infirmities, and beautifying the room where she was recovering. My student was there, helping her mother care for her grandmother. On the way home later that day, they received a phone call to say that her grandmother had passed. Her mother kept saying over and over again in her grief, "I can't believe I was just there, I just bathed her and brushed her hair an hour ago." My student remarked quietly from the back seat of the car, "Mom, you were anointing her." It was only a few weeks since we had heard this story of Mary and Jesus in church. With a few gentle words, she placed her mother's suffering in the big story. Her mother told me about it later, and how she suddenly saw so much beauty and a divine hand in the events of that sad and terrible day. She was at once stricken and utterly amazed.

Reflection

• When have you experienced the big story like my student did?
• Is there a Bible story you have found yourself playing out at one time or another?

Prayer

God of life and death, keeper of mysteries, you bless us in our passages. And you send us the Word sometimes from likely prophets, at other times, from unlikely proclaimers. We give thanks for the shape you give our lives. Amen

Patterns of New Life

Read Philippians 4b-11.

"I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the sharing of his sufferings..." (v. 11)

Each week when I sit down with the appointed lectionary readings, my favorite bit of analysis is trying to imagine why the four readings (1st, psalm, 2nd, and gospel) are lumped together: what's the relationship between them? Sometimes it is obvious; other times, not so obvious. On our final Sunday before Palm Sunday when we reenact Jesus triumphal entry into Jerusalem to meet his death, we hear not just of his friend, Mary's tears and anointing, but of the resurrection. We heard of it first in Isaiah as God watered the deserts, then again as the tears of sorrow turned to joy as the harvest comes home. Again, we greet it in Philippians as St. Paul discerns between the old ways of empowering oneself to righteousness and the way of living in righteousness by belief in the resurrection. (Notice the willingness with which he accepts sufferings as a path to new life.) On Sunday we will hear of Jesus' death as he sits down to a meal beside Lazarus whom he raised from the dead. Amidst Mary's tears, on the eve of his arrest, the stories buoy us with the hope of resurrection.

Reflection

• What patterns do you discern between these readings? Do you listen for these kinds of inter-textual themes ever?
• How do you make sense out of verse 9?

Prayer

O Lord, hear our prayer: help us to keep our hearts hopeful through the final days of our travels and your passion. Keep us ever confident in the power of resurrection. These things we ask in the name of your Son, Jesus Christ, Amen