Blog Archives
The Hinge (April 26, 2012)
…Opening To…
A marvelous and mighty paradox has thus occurred, for the death which they thought to inflict on Him as dishonor and disgrace has become the glorious monument to death’s defeat. (St. Athanasius)
…Listening In…
Jesus said to them, “These are my words that I spoke to you while I was still with you—that everything written about me in the Law from Moses, the Prophets, and the Psalms must be fulfilled.” Then he opened their minds to understand the scriptures. He said to them, “This is what is written: the Christ will suffer and rise from the dead on the third day, and a change of heart and life for the forgiveness of sins must be preached in his name to all nations, beginning from Jerusalem. You are witnesses of these things. Look, I’m sending to you what my Father promised, but you are to stay in the city until you have been furnished with heavenly power.” (Luke 24:44-49; context)
…Filling Up…
Day eight of ten of our celebration of the Resurrection and our last day with Luke’s account of the Gospel. The verses above are the hinges that link the Gospel according to Luke with the Acts of the Apostles, which is Luke’s sequel. (This gets confusing when looking at the way the Bible is laid out because John interrupts Luke’s story.)
Notice here that Jesus links the past with the future through his words. He reminds the disciples that he let them know what would happen way back before any of it went down. But they didn’t understand then, so he makes sure they understand now. In the Gospel’s version of the Vulcan mindmeld,* Jesus opens their minds to all the stuff about him (just as he had down with the two disciples on the road to Emmaus).
Then he gives them a charge to preach forgiveness to all the nations, beginning in Jerusalem. He echoes this charge at the beginning of Acts (since the last chapter of Luke and first chapter of Acts overlap). This charge happens in the present.
Then he moves to the future: “Look, I’m sending to you what my Father promised, but you are to stay in the city until you have been furnished with heavenly power.” With these words, Jesus lets them know that the Holy Spirit is coming to empower their lives – but not until after Jesus ascends to heaven.
With this passage, Luke links his two books, which are really just one long story. There’s the past, the present, and the future. And then there’s us – followers of Jesus spiritually descended from those first followers. We, too, are Jesus’ witnesses. We, too, have the “heavenly power” within us. We, too, are called to preach forgiveness and reconciliation. So let’s get out there and go.
…Praying For…
Dear God, your Son gave us a mission and the power to fulfill it. Help me to live everyday of my life with your call pulling my heart where you would lead. In Jesus Christ’s name I pray. Amen.
…Sending Out…
I leave this moment with you, God, rejoicing that you raised your Son from the dead and showed me that nothing in all of creation can separate me from your love.
* Mindmeld. Sorry, non-Trek fans for throwing that bit of vocab at you.
Like this:
Really Human (April 25, 2012)
…Opening To…
A marvelous and mighty paradox has thus occurred, for the death which they thought to inflict on Him as dishonor and disgrace has become the glorious monument to death’s defeat. (St. Athanasius)
…Listening In…
While they were saying these things, Jesus himself stood among them and said, “Peace be with you!” They were terrified and afraid. They thought they were seeing a ghost. He said to them, “Why are you startled? Why are doubts arising in your hearts? Look at my hands and my feet. It’s really me! Touch me and see, for a ghost doesn’t have flesh and bones like you see I have.” As he said this, he showed them his hands and feet. Because they were wondering and questioning in the midst of their happiness, he said to them, “Do you have anything to eat?” They gave him a piece of baked fish. Taking it, he ate it in front of them. (Luke 24:36-43; context)
…Filling Up…
Today is day seven of ten with the Resurrection appearances. Notice how similar the scene above is to its analog in the Gospel according to John. Jesus stands among the disciples, declares peace to them, then shows them his wounds because they need just a little more before they trust that it’s really him.
But Luke takes the scene one step further – to prove that he really does have internal organs, especially an esophagus, stomach, and intestines, Jesus eats some fish in their presence. (Jesus roasts fish on the beach in John’s account, so there’s a bit of a parallel there, too). I can just see the disciples walking around Jesus, examining him, perhaps seeing if they could put their hands through his ghostly immateriality. But, he’s not a ghost, of course. He’s really there – a physical being and yet more than a physical being because he’s also a resurrected being. Maybe that’s why they had trouble believing it was really him – because in the Resurrection, Jesus was more than himself.
Or to put it another way, in the Resurrected Jesus, the disciples could see more clearly the kingdom of God made known on earth. No wonder they had trouble deciding if he was really human. He was really human – fully human in a way no human had ever been. In seeing him in the power of the Resurrection, they realized how far they still had to go on the path, how much more they could be, how much more growing God had in store for them.
When we meet Jesus in our lives, how often does the encounter end without us desiring to change for the better? I think the safe answer is never. That’s because the power of the Resurrection pulls us closer to the God who makes us better than ourselves just by bringing us into God’s presence.
…Praying For…
Dear God, you sent your Son to earth to show us what you dreamed for humanity. Help me to live as part of that dream, drawing on the riches of Christ’s grace to be the best version of myself I can be every day of my life. In Jesus Christ’s name I pray. Amen.
…Sending Out…
I leave this moment with you, God, rejoicing that you raised your Son from the dead and showed me that nothing in all of creation can separate me from your love.
Like this:
Unsung (April 24, 2012)
My apologies for missing the Devo yesterday. There was a glitch that I didn’t catch until late (actually, my mother caught it when she texted me wondering if I was okay.) So here is yesterday’s Devo today — this week will all be pushed back one day and the final Devo of the series will run next Monday. Again, sorry about yesterday. –Adam
…Opening To…
A marvelous and mighty paradox has thus occurred, for the death which they thought to inflict on Him as dishonor and disgrace has become the glorious monument to death’s defeat. (St. Athanasius)
…Listening In…
Then Jesus said to them, “You foolish people! Your dull minds keep you from believing all that the prophets talked about. Wasn’t it necessary for the Christ to suffer these things and then enter into his glory?” Then he interpreted for them the things written about himself in all the scriptures, starting with Moses and going through all the Prophets. (Luke 24:25-27; context)
…Filling Up…
Week two of our celebration of the Resurrection, `cause one week just isn’t enough. (At church, it takes seven.) Last week we were in John all week because John has the most fully realized resurrection appearances. This week we’ll touch on Luke and Matthew. (Mark doesn’t have any.) So, without further ado, what you read a moment ago is from Luke’s wonderful, amazing, fantastic, and other-words-that-mean-really-great story about Jesus meeting two of his followers on the road to Emmaus.
Many, many things make this one of the loveliest stories in the Gospel, not the least of which is Jesus appearing to these two people – Cleopas and an unnamed companion – who are essentially nobodies in the Gospel. This is their one and only appearance. They have followed Jesus; they even number themselves as members of the “group” to whom the women who went to the tomb belong. And yet they never take center stage until now.
And it is to these unsung disciples that Jesus opens up the scriptures. He tells them all about himself using the words of the prophets of old. And still they don’t recognize him. Not until he breaks bread with them at the table that evening. Then their eyes see him and they realize how their hearts had been burning within them when he was teaching them on the road.
Sometimes, we don’t realize that we’ve had encounters with Jesus until later, until something jostles our faith into the right spiritual alignment to notice Christ on the road with us. But the truth is that Jesus is always on the road with us, always speaking truth into our hearts, always making us burn with fire. We just need to have the eyes the disciples had when they communed with him.
…Praying For…
Dear God, you are always walking the way with me. Help me to follow where your footsteps lead and always along the paths that lead to life and light. In Jesus Christ’s name I pray. Amen.
…Sending Out…
I leave this moment with you, God, rejoicing that you raised your Son from the dead and showed me that nothing in all of creation can separate me from your love.
Like this:
The Seventh Word: “Father, into your hands…” (April 6, 2012)
…Opening To…
Sing, my tongue, the glorious battle; of the mighty conflict sing; tell the triumph of the victim, to his cross thy tribute bring. Jesus Christ the world’s Redeemer from that cross now reigns as King. (Venantius Honorius Fortunatus, from The Hymnal 1982)
…Listening In…
It was now about noon, and darkness covered the whole earth until about three o’clock, while the sun stopped shining. Then the curtain in the sanctuary tore down the middle. Crying out in a loud voice, Jesus said, “Father, into your hands I entrust my life.” After he said this, he breathed for the last time. (Luke 23:44-46; context)
…Filling Up…
For the last seven devos of Lent: last week and during this Holy Week, we are encountering Christ’s seven last words from the cross. These “words” are actually full sentences, and there are three in Luke, three in John, and Matthew and Mark share one, as well (though with a slight variation). For each of the words, I have written a song; now, the songs may or may not include the sayings themselves. Rather, think of them as my response to Jesus speaking out from the cross, a place of vulnerability, shame, and torment – that Jesus turned into a place of majesty, love, and salvation.
For each song, I gave myself no more than two hours to write and one hour to record it. These are by no means polished songs; they are the responses of my heart to Christ crucified. I hope that they enrich you on your Holy Week journey as they have enriched me. What follows is “How I’m Designed,” my response to Jesus’ seventh word from the cross.
(If you can’t see the music player, download the song here.)
In you, O Lord, have I taken refuge;
You wrote your word on my heart but then,
Lord, I forget at times I bear your good news;
Stick to my net and fail to fish for men.
There’s so much dross and it clutters my heart,
And yet the loss of that stuff is naught
Because I know the love of Christ surpasses
All things below, and everything I’ve got.
Into your hands I commend my spirit:
Let go my plans and take your will as mine.
In your commands I find perfect freedom;
I understand that’s how I’m designed –
To function best when I empty myself,
To take my rest in your love each day;
And in my choice between what’s right or easy,
I hear your voice: God, help me to obey.
Into your hands I commend my spirit:
Let go my plans and take your will as mine.
In your commands I find perfect freedom;
I understand that’s how I’m designed –
To show your grace to each person I meet,
To see your face in the poor and lost.
And when I choose to turn my back to cruelty,
Help me to lose my will no matter the cost.
Into your hands I commend my spirit:
Let go my plans and take your will as mine.
In your commands I find perfect freedom;
I understand that’s how I’m designed –
To take your hand and notice how I shine.
…Praying For…
Dear God, you designed me to fulfill your purposes in this world. Help me to let go of my own will so that I can embrace yours, which leads to freedom and joy. In Jesus Christ’s name I pray. Amen.
…Sending Out…
I leave this moment with you, God, kneeling at the foot of the cross and feeling Christ’s arms of love reaching out to embrace the whole world.
Like this:
The Second Word: “You will be with me in paradise…” (March 30, 2012)
…Opening To…
Sing, my tongue, the glorious battle; of the mighty conflict sing; tell the triumph of the victim, to his cross thy tribute bring. Jesus Christ the world’s Redeemer from that cross now reigns as King. (Venantius Honorius Fortunatus, from The Hymnal 1982)
…Listening In…
Responding, the other criminal spoke harshly to him, “Don’t you fear God, seeing that you’ve also been sentenced to die? We are rightly condemned, for we are receiving the appropriate sentence for what we did. But this man has done nothing wrong.” Then he said, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” Jesus replied, “I assure you that today you will be with me in paradise.” (Luke 23:40-43; context)
…Filling Up…
For the last seven devos of Lent: yesterday, today, and during Holy Week, we are encountering Christ’s seven last words from the cross. These “words” are actually full sentences, and there are three in Luke, three in John, and Matthew and Mark share one, as well (though with a slight variation). For each of the words, I have written a song; now, the songs may or may not include the sayings themselves. Rather, think of them as my response to Jesus speaking out from the cross, a place of vulnerability, shame, and torment – that Jesus turned into a place of majesty, love, and salvation.
For each song, I gave myself no more than two hours to write it and one to record it. These are by no means polished songs; they are the responses of my heart to Christ crucified. I hope that they enrich you on your Holy Week journey as they have enriched me. What follows is “Remember Me,” my response to Jesus’ second word from the cross.
(If you can’t see the music player, download the song here.)
Remember the child with the arms like twigs
Sitting in the dirt,
Remember the student going back to school
Trying on a brand new skirt,
Remember the tyrant, remember the fool,
Remember the victim of everything cruel,
Remember all those who have never been free,
And Jesus, remember me.
Remember the soldier in the chopper crash
Dying so far from home,
Remember the farmer digging in the field
Cultivating rich, dark loam,
Remember the banker, remember the thief,
Remember the mourner who is lost in her grief,
Remember all those who can never agree,
And Jesus, remember me.
Remember the patient in the ICU
Breathing by machine,
Remember the parent at the grocery store
Buying food when times are lean,
Remember the scoundrel, remember the queen,
Remember the vagrant who has never been seen,
Remember all those who from violence flee,
And Jesus, remember me.
Remember the foreman, remember the geek,
Remember the worker who makes pennies a week,
Remember all those who have their back to a wall,
And Jesus, remember all.
…Praying For…
Dear God, you are present wherever I go and in you is Paradise. Help me to see the glory all around me, even when times are dark. In Jesus Christ’s name I pray. Amen.
…Sending Out…
I leave this moment with you, God, kneeling at the foot of the cross and feeling Christ’s arms of love reaching out to embrace the whole world.
Like this:
The First Word: “Father, forgive them…” (March 29, 2012)
…Opening To…
Sing, my tongue, the glorious battle; of the mighty conflict sing; tell the triumph of the victim, to his cross thy tribute bring. Jesus Christ the world’s Redeemer from that cross now reigns as King. (Venantius Honorius Fortunatus, from The Hymnal 1982)
…Listening In…
They also led two other criminals to be executed with Jesus. When they arrived at the place called The Skull, they crucified him, along with the criminals, one on his right and the other on his left. Jesus said, “Father, forgive them, for they don’t know what they’re doing.” They drew lots as a way of dividing up his clothing. (Luke 23:32-34; context)
…Filling Up…
For the last seven devos of Lent: today, tomorrow, and during Holy Week, we will be encountering Christ’s seven last words from the cross. These “words” are actually full sentences, and there are three in Luke, three in John, and Matthew and Mark share one, as well (though with a slight variation). For each of the words, I have written a song; now, the songs may or may not include the sayings themselves. Rather, think of them as my response to Jesus speaking out from the cross, a place of vulnerability, shame, and torment – that Jesus turned into a place of majesty, love, and salvation.
For each song, I gave myself no more than two hours to write it and one to record it. These are by no means polished songs; they are the responses of my heart to Christ crucified. I hope that they enrich you on your Holy Week journey as they have enriched me. What follows is “I am a Thread,” my response to Jesus’ first word from the cross.
(If you can’t see the music player, download the song here.)
I am a thread: see me shine in the sun.
You may never notice if I am the only one.
A thread is so thin, insubstantial, and frail,
And with a set distance from beginning to tail.
So please, God, weave me
In your tapestry.
Please, God, weave me.
We are all threads: see us shine in the sun.
But weave us together and together we are as one.
The fabric so thick, so substantial and strong;
There’s never a question of “do we belong?”
So please, God, weave me
In your tapestry.
Please, God, weave me.
Pull on a thread and you pull on each one;
So quick to unravel, so slow to weave again.
Father, forgive me: I don’t know what I do;
And grant me the eyes to see the fabric like you.
And please, God, weave me
In your tapestry.
Please, God, weave me.
…Praying For…
Dear God, you knit all of humanity together. Help me see how my actions and inactions threaten the thriving of my neighbors both here and far, that I may extract myself from the domination systems of the world, with your help. In Jesus Christ’s name I pray. Amen.
…Sending Out…
I leave this moment with you, God, kneeling at the foot of the cross and feeling Christ’s arms of love reaching out to embrace the whole world
Like this:
“S” is for Symbol – or Sacrament (March 19, 2012)
…Opening To…
For me, kind Jesus, was thy incarnation, thy mortal sorrow, and thy life’s oblation; thy death of anguish and thy bitter passion, for my salvation. Therefore, kind Jesus, since I cannot pay thee, I do adore thee, and will ever pray thee, think on thy pity and thy love unswerving, not my deserving. (Johann Heermann, from The Hymnal 1982)
…Listening In…
After taking the bread and giving thanks, he broke it and gave it to them, saying, “This is my body, which is given for you. Do this in remembrance of me.” In the same way, he took the cup after the meal and said, “This cup is the new covenant by my blood, which is poured out for you.” (Luke 22:19-20; context)
…Filling Up…
This Lent, we are exploring our faith by running through the alphabet. Today, “S” is for symbol. We have a lot of symbols in church: the cross, the dove, the living water, the commandments, (fill in the blank here _________ ).
But before we go any further, I want to dispel from your mind any notion of the phrases “it’s only a symbol” or “it’s merely symbolic.” Symbols are woefully misunderstood things in American culture – like soccer and irony. A symbol is an object that points beyond itself to a deeper truth. Too often, “sign” and “symbol” are used interchangeably, but they are not synonymous. A stop sign lets you know you are supposed to brake at an intersection, but that’s all it tells you. The red octagon doesn’t compel you to ruminate on why you should stop. But a symbol – the cross, for instance – stirs within us all of the historical and theological and emotional resonances of the truth to which it points.
In church, we have a special sort of symbol called a “sacrament.” Take communion for instance. The bread we use is laughably ordinary, but the situation we put it in is not. The juxtaposition between the normal loaf of bread and the strange way it is being treated invest the ordinary with new meaning. The bread connotes the bounty of harvest, the fruits of the earth, the goodness of creation, the nourishment of our bodies. And when we put it on that table, and a priest (in the presence of God’s people) asks God to indwell that bread with the Spirit of Christ, the bread becomes a sacrament. The bread becomes one part of the Eucharistic meal, an outward and visible connection to our inward spiritual lives. Special sacramental symbols take ordinary things – bread, water, even our own actions and personhoods – and set them ablaze with physical and emotive evidence of the presence of God.
…Praying For…
Dear God, you give us sacraments to help us see you in this world. Help me to by a symbol for your love, mercy, and grace to all I meet. In Jesus Christ’s name I pray. Amen.
…Sending Out…
I leave this moment with you, God, counting myself blessed that you would choose to make me the person I am and love me into the person I am becoming.
Sometimes Alike (February 7, 2012)
…Opening To…
The book to read is not the one which thinks for you, but the one which makes you think. No book in the world equals the Bible for that. (Harper Lee)
…Listening In…
Jesus replied, “You give them something to eat.” But they said, “We have no more than five loaves of bread and two fish—unless we go and buy food for all these people.” (Luke 9:13; context) (also, Matthew 14, Mark 6, and John 6)
…Filling Up…
A question I’ve been asked several times in Bible studies is this: “Why are the Gospels so alike in some ways and so different in others?” When I am asked this, I first do my broken record spiel about there being only one Gospel (Jesus Christ’s), of which we have four accounts (Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John). Then, when the members of the class are done rolling their eyes at me, we get down to tackling the question. So, why are the accounts of the Gospel so alike and so different?
We’ll tackle “alike” today and “different” tomorrow. The most obvious reason that the accounts of the Gospel are alike is that they tell the same story. Jesus was a real guy who walked around, got his feet dirty, ate meals, and made a lot of people angry and a lot of other people joyful. The children’s education program Godly Play opens its parable stories with: “Once there was someone who said such amazing things and did such wonderful things that people followed him.” This introductory sentence describes the bulk of the Gospel pretty well. Many of the stories are different, but the theme is the same.
Of course, there are some “big” parts that all four accounts hit, the most notable being the events surrounding Jesus’ crucifixion (known as the “Passion narrative”). As each account nears its bloody climax (well, what we think is the climax until the real one with the resurrection), the accounts begin to speak with a voice that nears the unison. Because the events in Jesus’ last week are so important, the four writers each focuses in on telling that part of the story.
But there are other reasons that the texts are so similar in places, especially Matthew, Mark, and Luke. In fact, these three are known as the “synoptics,” meaning “through the same eyes.” Mark was written first, and his style is rather breathless, jumping from one event to the next with an immediacy that precludes much description or dialogue. Scholars tell us that Matthew used Mark as a basis, but expanded it quit a bit to include several long sermons of Jesus. Much of this material comes from a theoretical source called “Q” (which stands for the German word Quelle, which means “source”). Luke apparently also had access to Q, which explains why Luke and Matthew share so much that the other two don’t.
John tends to be the outlier (though John and Luke share some curious similarities) because John is concerned with telling the same story in a different way. All in all, the accounts of the Gospel tell the same story through different eyes – sometimes the story lines up and sometimes it doesn’t. And that’s what we’ll tackle tomorrow.
…Praying For…
Dear God, your Son encountered all sorts of people in his ministry who told us about him. Help me to tell others about my experience with Jesus in a way that is inviting and humble. In Jesus Christ’s name I pray. Amen.
…Sending Out…
I leave this moment with you, God, having faith that you have touched my life with your Word, knowing that I can read it in my heart and speak it on my lips.
The Spectrum (January 27, 2012)
…Opening To…
It is when we notice the dirt that God is most present in us: it is the very sign of His presence. (C.S. Lewis, The Problem of Pain)
…Listening In…
Jesus went down to Nazareth with them and was obedient to them. His mother cherished every word in her heart. Jesus matured in wisdom and years, and in favor with God and with people. (Luke 2:51-52; context)
…Filling Up…
In times of consolation, we notice God filling us to overflowing. We cannot possibly hold any more grace, so it spills from us, hopefully landing on those around us. Our joy prompts us to invite others to gather up their blessings and notice God’s presence in their lives. We form communities to share our joy, and these communities help sustain those who inevitably fall into periods of desolation.
You see, desolation and consolation are the extremes of life – the subsistence and the abundance. Most of the time, we exist somewhere along the spectrum between the two. Remember the story from Wednesday? At the end of it, Luke tells us that Mary cherished “all these things in her heart” – both the empty time of desolation when Jesus was lost and the joyful time of consolation when she found him again. Mary takes both categories into her heart and ponders them. Her life, like all our lives, brings together experiences both of desolation and consolation. As faithful people of God, we try with God’s help to lead lives that trend toward consolation on the spectrum.
Today, I invite you to take stock of where you fall on the spectrum between desolation and consolation. If your trajectory is moving toward consolation, rejoice, and continue to gather your small blessings and keep a weather eye out for God’s presence in your life. If your trajectory is moving toward desolation, I pray that God grants you the courage to turn around. You may still be stuck in the wasteland, but you will be facing the right direction – out of the desert and toward the garden.
Finally, may God grant you the grace to survive when you are desolate, to thrive when you are overflowing, and to treasure all these things in your hearts.
…Praying For…
Dear God, your presence abides in every decision and indecision I make, every cause and effect, every question and answer. Help me to recognize and live my life in the light of that presence. In Jesus Christ’s name I pray. Amen.
…Sending Out…
I leave this moment with you, God, and wherever I am – whether in the garden or the wasteland – I pray that you help me see your presence in my life.
Losing Jesus (January 25, 2012)
…Opening To…
It is when we notice the dirt that God is most present in us: it is the very sign of His presence. (C.S. Lewis, The Problem of Pain)
…Listening In…
When they didn’t find Jesus, they returned to Jerusalem to look for him. After three days they found him in the temple. He was sitting among the teachers, listening to them and putting questions to them. Everyone who heard him was amazed by his understanding and his answers. When his parents saw him, they were shocked. His mother said, “Child, why have you treated us like this? Listen! Your father and I have been worried. We’ve been looking for you!” Jesus replied, “Why were you looking for me? Didn’t you know that it was necessary for me to be in my Father’s house?” But they didn’t understand what he said to them. (Luke 2:45-50; context)
…Filling Up…
Before we transition to the good news, let’s pause for a day and check out a story from the Gospel that moves from desolation to consolation.
While our desolation may happen when we think God is gone, Mary’s desolate moment happens when she literally loses Jesus. The family has been attending the festival of the Passover in Jerusalem. They start their journey back to Nazareth, and Jesus is not with them. But they’re not worried because the caravan is peopled with family and friends; surely, he’s wandered off to chat with some favorite uncle. A day out, Mary and Joseph realize Jesus is missing. They rush back to Jerusalem, frightened, anxious. They search for three frantic days. As someone who has only experienced the combination of harsh words and fervent embraces that accompany a parent finding a lost child, I can only imagine the desolation that those three days brought to Mary’s soul.
On the third day, Mary’s search brings her to the temple. And there she finds Jesus, safe and sound and unaware of the years his absence has shaved off his mother’s life. What was lost, Mary now has found. The nightmare scenarios she has been imagining have not come to pass, but her heart continues to pound anyway – it pounds out of love and relief and jubilation. Desolation gives way to the warmth, the electricity of consolation, which we will talk about tomorrow. For now, put yourself in Mary’s shoes. What would it be like for us to find Jesus?
…Praying For…
Dear God, whenever I am lost, you seek me out, find me, and bring me home to you. Help me to search for you with the same diligence and welcome you with open arms. In Jesus Christ’s name I pray. Amen.
…Sending Out…
I leave this moment with you, God, and wherever I am – whether in the garden or the wasteland – I pray that you help me see your presence in my life.
