In anticipation of the new Star Wars movie, I decided to rewatch much of the previous saga. I say much because even though I tried to watch the prequels I just couldn't finish them. So I gave up on the prequels and jumped into Rogue One.
Now for me, Star Wars has always been space fantasy and not strictly sci fi. Star Trek is sci fi. Star Wars is wizards in space. If you think about the differences in the films, hopefully the distinction will be clear.
What this also means is that as much as I enjoyed Rogue One, it did not fill me with the same sense of awe as watching Star Wars when I was a kid. It is too gritty, too real. It inhabits the same universe, but it is a war movie in space, not wizards in space (except for the parts that were, which were my favorites scenes). The parts related to faith and the mystical, while present, were secondary to the story-telling even as much as they were primary for many of the characters.
Dangerous Waters
A couple of weeks ago, my wife and I were each attending to some things in the evening. I believe she was working on a sermon and I was folding laundry. I put on a familiar movie that would not be too distracting from our tasks. I decided to put on Moana, which has become one of our favorites.
When the movie begins our title character is a toddler starting to learn the way of life expected of a chieftain even as she is constantly drawn to the ocean surrounding their island village. Without giving away anything critical to those who might not have seen the movie yet, there is a particular scene where Moana is playing in the sand staring at the waves when the sea begins to pull back, exposing a conch shell. As she approaches and picks it up, the sea pulls back again exposing another shell. A path forms in the water with the sea to either side as she picks up each shell in turn.
When the movie begins our title character is a toddler starting to learn the way of life expected of a chieftain even as she is constantly drawn to the ocean surrounding their island village. Without giving away anything critical to those who might not have seen the movie yet, there is a particular scene where Moana is playing in the sand staring at the waves when the sea begins to pull back, exposing a conch shell. As she approaches and picks it up, the sea pulls back again exposing another shell. A path forms in the water with the sea to either side as she picks up each shell in turn.
You Keep Using That Word. I Do Not Think It Means What You Think It Means.
There has been an awful lot of talk about greatness lately. We get into arguments about who is the greatest _____ of all time (musician, athlete, etc). Some have been talking lately about being great again. What does it mean to be great? When were we great before? Who was it great for?
Some want to define greatness by one's achievements. Some want to define greatness by one's prowess. Some want to define greatness by one's ability to dominate others. Being great is to be a winner, to be on top.
Or is it?
Stephen Gets Stoned (and not in a good way)
Looking at today's various texts, stones and rocks come up several times. In the Psalm, God is a rock of refuge and a mighty fortress. In 1 Peter, Jesus is the cornerstone, the very foundation on which our faith is built. This can leave us feeling pretty good. Stones are strong and firm. They can hold us up and protect us. But 1 Peter points out that rocks can also make us trip and stumble. And there there is the Acts text.
Following the last couple of weeks where we have focused on the post-Resurrection community. We have seen these people of faith accept that Christ has risen. We have seen them join together into communities, communities that helped one another and shared all they had with each other. Communities that grew out of the faith exhibited in the stories and lives of those that started them.
In the last few chapters of Acts, Stephen has been selected as one of the servant leaders of one of these communities. He, along with a handful of others, is initially set apart to care for the widows in the Greek-speaking portion of the community, he becomes known for his teaching and testimony in the Hellenistic synagogues.
Following the last couple of weeks where we have focused on the post-Resurrection community. We have seen these people of faith accept that Christ has risen. We have seen them join together into communities, communities that helped one another and shared all they had with each other. Communities that grew out of the faith exhibited in the stories and lives of those that started them.
In the last few chapters of Acts, Stephen has been selected as one of the servant leaders of one of these communities. He, along with a handful of others, is initially set apart to care for the widows in the Greek-speaking portion of the community, he becomes known for his teaching and testimony in the Hellenistic synagogues.
Christian Communism
I had not planned to do a second post for this week. However, the Acts passage this week just kept tugging at me.
Here in the season of Easter, we look not only at the post-Resurrection stories of Jesus, we also begin to look at the earliest community of believers after the Ascension. In the Acts passage today, we catch one such glimpse of this early community.
"They devoted themselves to the apostles' teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers." (Acts 2:42, NRSV)
This first verse gives us a sketch of what this earliest community looked like. And in some ways it does not look that different from our church communities today. They devoted themselves to the apostles' teaching (which have become our scriptures), to fellowship, to the breaking of bread (Eucharist), and the prayers (the prayers of the people). So far I bet we are all still feeling pretty comfortable with ourselves. We are following the Christian tradition, maintaining much the same pattern in our worship life together as the earliest Christian communities. Surely we are all doing something right.
But before we pat ourselves too hard on the back, let us not forget that the text does not end there.
"All who believed were together and had all things in common; they would sell their possessions and goods and distribute the proceeds to all, as any had need." (Acts 2:44-45, NRSV)
The model of this first Christian community doesn't simply end with them hearing the apostles' stories, sharing some bread, and praying. (Maybe today we would throw in a couple of hymns as well.) Worship was not the end of their time together, not the end of what it means for them to be a Christian community.
Their faith was enacted in community. It was not an individualistic faith. It wasn't about any single person's relationship with God. This faith was about growing in relationship with each other.
This is something I feel we tend to forget in our present culture. We often forget what it means to be "we," to be connected to others. In our contemporary world, we focus on personal conversion as the sign of salvation. "Have you accepted Jesus as your personal Lord and Savior?"
But when asked about the greatest commandment, Jesus replies that we must love God with our entire being and love our neighbors as ourselves. Jesus teaches us that the entirety of the law and prophets hang on these two things (see Matthew 22:36-40).
This is exactly what we see embodied here in this passage from Acts. Through their sharing of the stories of the apostles, breaking bread together, and praying, the earliest Christians expressed directly their love of God. And in their communal sharing and making sure everyone's needs were met, they continue to express their love of God by loving one another.
This is a far cry from too many Christian communities today. It seems that too often, those who would claim Christ see this only from their own individual point of view. It is difficult to reconcile the actions of many of those who claim to be Christian's today with the model set by this earliest community.
They distributed to all as they had need.
Notice it doesn't list any other criteria other than having need.
The community of believers cared for each other. They cared for each others' needs. Those with greater resources provided for the needs of those with less.
Sadly, this is a far cry from too many of us that claim to be Christian today. Today, those claiming to be Christian celebrate the exclusion of people from our communities. Today, those claiming to be Christians celebrate denying health care coverage to those in need. Today, those claiming to be Christian preach a "gospel" that claims if you are individually right with God, God will make you prosper.
Jesus said that others would know us by our love for one another.
But do our communities today look anything like this earliest community?
Here in the season of Easter, we look not only at the post-Resurrection stories of Jesus, we also begin to look at the earliest community of believers after the Ascension. In the Acts passage today, we catch one such glimpse of this early community.
"They devoted themselves to the apostles' teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers." (Acts 2:42, NRSV)
This first verse gives us a sketch of what this earliest community looked like. And in some ways it does not look that different from our church communities today. They devoted themselves to the apostles' teaching (which have become our scriptures), to fellowship, to the breaking of bread (Eucharist), and the prayers (the prayers of the people). So far I bet we are all still feeling pretty comfortable with ourselves. We are following the Christian tradition, maintaining much the same pattern in our worship life together as the earliest Christian communities. Surely we are all doing something right.
But before we pat ourselves too hard on the back, let us not forget that the text does not end there.
"All who believed were together and had all things in common; they would sell their possessions and goods and distribute the proceeds to all, as any had need." (Acts 2:44-45, NRSV)
The model of this first Christian community doesn't simply end with them hearing the apostles' stories, sharing some bread, and praying. (Maybe today we would throw in a couple of hymns as well.) Worship was not the end of their time together, not the end of what it means for them to be a Christian community.
Their faith was enacted in community. It was not an individualistic faith. It wasn't about any single person's relationship with God. This faith was about growing in relationship with each other.
This is something I feel we tend to forget in our present culture. We often forget what it means to be "we," to be connected to others. In our contemporary world, we focus on personal conversion as the sign of salvation. "Have you accepted Jesus as your personal Lord and Savior?"
But when asked about the greatest commandment, Jesus replies that we must love God with our entire being and love our neighbors as ourselves. Jesus teaches us that the entirety of the law and prophets hang on these two things (see Matthew 22:36-40).
This is exactly what we see embodied here in this passage from Acts. Through their sharing of the stories of the apostles, breaking bread together, and praying, the earliest Christians expressed directly their love of God. And in their communal sharing and making sure everyone's needs were met, they continue to express their love of God by loving one another.
This is a far cry from too many Christian communities today. It seems that too often, those who would claim Christ see this only from their own individual point of view. It is difficult to reconcile the actions of many of those who claim to be Christian's today with the model set by this earliest community.
They distributed to all as they had need.
Notice it doesn't list any other criteria other than having need.
The community of believers cared for each other. They cared for each others' needs. Those with greater resources provided for the needs of those with less.
Sadly, this is a far cry from too many of us that claim to be Christian today. Today, those claiming to be Christian celebrate the exclusion of people from our communities. Today, those claiming to be Christians celebrate denying health care coverage to those in need. Today, those claiming to be Christian preach a "gospel" that claims if you are individually right with God, God will make you prosper.
Jesus said that others would know us by our love for one another.
But do our communities today look anything like this earliest community?
Clear-cut pastures and oil-choked waters
Perhaps one of the most recognized scriptures, Psalm 23 is one that many know by heart. Read at funerals and other times of distress, it is a passage that brings comfort to many.
"The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want."
It's not difficult to see why this Psalm offers a sense of comfort to many. From the beginning we recognize God's care for us. God is our shepherd. The shepherd cares for the flock, guiding them, providing for their needs, nourishing them. With God as our shepherd, our needs are cared for. We have no need of anything beyond that which is provided.
"He makes me lie down in green pastures;"
Continuing the metaphor of sheep and shepherd, we must consider the idea that for sheep, which eat grass, a verdant pasture must be appealing. What better place than a field of plenty in which to lounge?
Encountering the Body
What follows is a summary of a paper written for a class on Liturgy and Ethics several years ago. As we come again to the Third Sunday of Easter and as my denomination struggles with the image of Christ we present to the world, it seemed timely.
* * *
The liturgy of the church shapes the moral life of those who participate in it. This formational aspect is not necessarily something that is included in a conscious way, but is intrinsic in the act of worshiping together day after day, week after week, year after year. The repetitive nature of the ritual action has an effect on those who participate. Worship done rightly properly orients the participants in the way of Christ – participants are brought into right relationship with Christ, worshiping and praising God, and continuing the ministry of Christ in the process. What is it in worship done rightly that brings about this change of heart? In short, it is primarily through the encounter with the body of the risen Christ that we are rightly formed into moral creatures.
As we continue through the Easter season, we know that the Easter story holds place of privilege in our beliefs as Christians. Jesus raised from the dead is not a simple resuscitation – he was not just brought back to life to live out a certain number of additional years only to die again. Nor is the resurrection simply about a ghostly presence, for how can a ghost eat or be touched? That said, the witnesses are not exactly clear on what it does mean. And if in fact this is resurrection into some new reality beyond human experience, it only makes sense that the stories we are left with don’t make sense to the modern, Enlightenment mind (or at least those influenced by such a world view) whether their experiences made sense to the original witnesses or not.
* * *
The liturgy of the church shapes the moral life of those who participate in it. This formational aspect is not necessarily something that is included in a conscious way, but is intrinsic in the act of worshiping together day after day, week after week, year after year. The repetitive nature of the ritual action has an effect on those who participate. Worship done rightly properly orients the participants in the way of Christ – participants are brought into right relationship with Christ, worshiping and praising God, and continuing the ministry of Christ in the process. What is it in worship done rightly that brings about this change of heart? In short, it is primarily through the encounter with the body of the risen Christ that we are rightly formed into moral creatures.
As we continue through the Easter season, we know that the Easter story holds place of privilege in our beliefs as Christians. Jesus raised from the dead is not a simple resuscitation – he was not just brought back to life to live out a certain number of additional years only to die again. Nor is the resurrection simply about a ghostly presence, for how can a ghost eat or be touched? That said, the witnesses are not exactly clear on what it does mean. And if in fact this is resurrection into some new reality beyond human experience, it only makes sense that the stories we are left with don’t make sense to the modern, Enlightenment mind (or at least those influenced by such a world view) whether their experiences made sense to the original witnesses or not.
Songs for the Journey - Second Sunday of Easter
Last week's post is a bit late. With apologies to Neil Diamond and The Monkees...
***********
I thought love was only true in fairy tales/Meant for someone else but not for me/Love was out to get me/That's the way it seemed/Disappointment haunted all of my dreams
The disciples are gathered behind locked doors - scared, demoralized, uncertain. They thought they understood who Jesus was. He was the Messiah. The Messiah was supposed to deliver Israel from slavery. He was going to lead the revolt against the occupying powers. But three days ago, the religious leaders handed him over to the authorities and he was executed.
As if that wasn't enough, Mary Magdalene told them this crazy story earlier today about seeing Jesus in the garden. Surely she was delirious with her grief; they were especially close after all. But John and Peter had run off afterwards and seemed pretty shaken when they came back.
Not Another Easter Post
I wasn't totally sure I would write an Easter post. Usually I try to write something before the weekend, but this week saw a couple of extra Holy days thrown in for good measure. And there is more than one reason I don't pastor a church my self (chiefly not wanting to create a sermon ever single week). And really, what is there to say beyond what is already said today?
Easter is what makes all of this matter, the beginning of the last act of that whole lifedeathandresurrection thing. On Easter, the palms are justified and the alleluias return. Like the rainbow after the flood, the empty tomb shows us the truth of all that God has promised, all that Christ has taught.
Χριστός ἀνέστη!
Easter is what makes all of this matter, the beginning of the last act of that whole lifedeathandresurrection thing. On Easter, the palms are justified and the alleluias return. Like the rainbow after the flood, the empty tomb shows us the truth of all that God has promised, all that Christ has taught.
Χριστός ἀνέστη!
What more can be said?
"Good" Friday
It has always struck me as odd that we celebrate today as "Good" Friday, at least given our present understanding of the word good. If we accept an archaic understanding of good as holy, then I get it. But when is the last time you heard someone talking about Good Friday in this way? Too often we hear that Good Friday is good because Friday is the day Jesus died for our sins and therefore is the culmination of all God was working towards, the high point of God's reconciliation to us. But is that really what Friday is about? Is it our obsession with violence that makes us focus on this day?
Not that Friday isn't a part of the story. As one of my professors in seminary reminded us, we have to think about the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus as if it is all one word - lifedeathandresurrection. The different aspects of the Jesus story only work in conjunction with others. The death by itself does not accomplish anything. After all, governments execute extremists, nonconformists, and others that do not fit their expected "norms" all the time.
But paired with Jesus' teachings and miracles - his focus on community and love - and his resurrection, his execution takes on a different meaning.
Hated by the religious leaders because he challenged their assumptions and taught a different way of loving God, Jesus was executed by the state for disrupting the status quo and leading the city to potential violence, even though it was the potential of violence among those that opposed Jesus that was the problem. It was an execution of expedience, as most state violence is.
As I read the Passion narrative this past week, I got caught up on the fact that even though Pilate washed his hands of the whole thing, it was his soldiers that led Jesus away. It was agents of the government that beat and mocked Jesus. It was these same troops that dressed Jesus in other garments and openly mocked his beliefs. I imagine if they had had cell phones and cameras, they would have snapped pics of themselves beating him and mocking him, pics of him dressed in a loose robe with a reed styled as a scepter and a crown of thorns forced on his head.
We like to style ourselves as followers of Christ, the Prince of Peace, one who taught us to love God and to love each other above all else. We're better than those others over there. They are violent and bloodthirsty. Not like us.
And yet, I know exactly how we would treat a Middle Eastern man that challenges our assumptions about how God should be worshiped.
As we celebrate Good Friday, let us never forget that Jesus died because of our sins. He also taught us a way to live in community with one another and rose from the dead to prove God's forgiveness and undying love for us.
Songs for the Journey - Maundy Thursday
Nine years ago, I did a blog series through Lent called "Songs for the Journey." A few years earlier, my wife's seminary roommate had given her a mix-CD labeled "Happy Advent." It started this tickle in my brain - what would a Lenten mix sound like?
Then about 9 years ago while worship planning, I came across a list of themes for the different weeks of Lent. As I read through them songs started popping into my head that for me spoke to those themes and a series was born.
As I continue this new blog, I draw on the liturgical and lectionary themes each week and consider songs, movies, TV shows, and other contemporary resources to bring out the themes I encounter. I had not intended to necessarily recreate that original blog series, but sometimes my mind wanders back to revisit those themes.
You Can't Skip The Empire Strikes Back
Traditionally, the last Sunday before Easter has been known as Palm Sunday. This Sunday at the end of Lent is a time for celebrating the final entry of Jesus into Jerusalem before his death. As Jesus and his disciples enter town others spread their cloaks and palm branches along the road to welcome them.
For the disciples, things go downhill pretty quickly from here. The story leads next into the Last Supper (Maundy Thursday), Jesus' arrest and crucifixion (Good Friday), and the tomb. Yes, Easter is on the other end of that. But they didn't know that as they walked into town. They didn't know that as they shared a meal. They didn't know that as armed men took Jesus away. They didn't know that as Jesus was questioned by the authorities. They didn't know that as their Messiah/teacher/friend suffered on the cross. They didn't know.
Lazarus in carbonite?
This week as Jesus continues his travel, he receives word that his good friend, Lazarus, has fallen ill. Lazarus is the brother of Mary and Martha of Bethany. We get the sense that this family is important in the life of Jesus. The sisters are mentioned in both Luke and John, and the Gospel writer here states that Mary is the one who will wipe Jesus' feet with perfume shortly before his final trip to Jerusalem. The message he receives from the sisters now refers to Lazarus as one whom Jesus loves. But rather than heading immediately out, Jesus plays it off as not that serious and stays where he is for a few more days.
The Blame Game
We love to play the blame game. If something goes wrong or there is a problem of some sort, the first things we do is look for where to place the blame. In this week's Gospel story, we learn that this is not a new or even historically recent thing. As Jesus and his disciples are walking along, they happen upon a man who is blind. The Gospel writer even makes it clear this man had been blind since birth, which suggests there are no obvious signs of injury that could be blamed. Instead, the first thing the disciples ask is "who sinned to cause his blindness - the man or his parents?"
So my first thought here is what sin the disciples thought this man could have committed to cause him to be blind since birth. Was it the very act of being born that they thought was sinful? Or perhaps more likely did they think this was some sort of preemptive strike on God's part? "I know that guy is going to sin, so let's just throw a little blindness his way now." Surely this man didn't just happen to be born blind. Someone must have done something in order for God to afflict him that way.
So my first thought here is what sin the disciples thought this man could have committed to cause him to be blind since birth. Was it the very act of being born that they thought was sinful? Or perhaps more likely did they think this was some sort of preemptive strike on God's part? "I know that guy is going to sin, so let's just throw a little blindness his way now." Surely this man didn't just happen to be born blind. Someone must have done something in order for God to afflict him that way.
Where is this Living Water?
In this week's Gospel reading, Jesus stops at a well in a Samaritan village. He is tired and thirsty from his travels. The road is dusty and there are no cars or buses, no rolling up the windows to keep the dirt at bay, no pressing the gas pedal to get from point A to point B. Traveling miles and miles on his own two feet.
A local woman comes to draw water from the well, and Jesus asks for a drink. What follows is an interesting theological back and forth covering orthodoxy, orthopraxy, and salvation. All because Jesus got thirsty as he traveled through Samaria.
Just to set the stage, Samaria was once part of Israel. Following centuries of disagreement between the northern kingdom and the southern kingdom and an invasion or two, Samaritans were considered outsiders by Jews. This is what makes the so-called story of the "Good Samaritan" that so many are familiar with so intriguing. Jesus places the positive action on an outsider, a foreigner, one considered beneath the Jews.
And now we have Jesus engaging in dialogue with a Samaritan on the nature of God, worship, and salvation. And not just any Samaritan, but a woman. Oh, the scandal. In a society that strives to keep unrelated women and men from conversing alone together, it is no surprise the Gospel writer felt the need to point out the fact that the Disciples did not react as expected.
A local woman comes to draw water from the well, and Jesus asks for a drink. What follows is an interesting theological back and forth covering orthodoxy, orthopraxy, and salvation. All because Jesus got thirsty as he traveled through Samaria.
Just to set the stage, Samaria was once part of Israel. Following centuries of disagreement between the northern kingdom and the southern kingdom and an invasion or two, Samaritans were considered outsiders by Jews. This is what makes the so-called story of the "Good Samaritan" that so many are familiar with so intriguing. Jesus places the positive action on an outsider, a foreigner, one considered beneath the Jews.
And now we have Jesus engaging in dialogue with a Samaritan on the nature of God, worship, and salvation. And not just any Samaritan, but a woman. Oh, the scandal. In a society that strives to keep unrelated women and men from conversing alone together, it is no surprise the Gospel writer felt the need to point out the fact that the Disciples did not react as expected.
Born of water and Spirit, or How I Learned to Love the Red Pill
This week Jesus meets with Nicodemus, a Pharisee who came to Jesus by night to ask questions and better understand what Jesus has been teaching. When questioned about the power of his teaching, Jesus responds, "no one can see the kingdom of God without being born from above."
Nicodemus is astounded. How can someone be born again?
From this point, Jesus talks about the nature of truth. On another day, I might talk about how what Jesus told Nicodemus was true...from a certain point of view. So many of the truths that we cling to are only true from a certain point of view.
For Nicodemus, the truth is a person is born a single time. We gestate in the womb and then we are born and must learn and live and grow in this world. How can a grown person enter the womb again to be born a second time? That's impossible. This is true, from a certain point of view.
But Jesus speaks of a different kind of birth. Not a physical birth, but a spiritual awakening. Enlightenment, rebirth, whatever you may want to call it. Some may even recognize here a barely veiled reference to baptism with the baptismal font as the womb of the church from which we are born into new life. Again, this is true, from a certain point of view.
And under normal circumstances, I would continue in this vein for a few more lines.
Nicodemus is astounded. How can someone be born again?
From this point, Jesus talks about the nature of truth. On another day, I might talk about how what Jesus told Nicodemus was true...from a certain point of view. So many of the truths that we cling to are only true from a certain point of view.
For Nicodemus, the truth is a person is born a single time. We gestate in the womb and then we are born and must learn and live and grow in this world. How can a grown person enter the womb again to be born a second time? That's impossible. This is true, from a certain point of view.
But Jesus speaks of a different kind of birth. Not a physical birth, but a spiritual awakening. Enlightenment, rebirth, whatever you may want to call it. Some may even recognize here a barely veiled reference to baptism with the baptismal font as the womb of the church from which we are born into new life. Again, this is true, from a certain point of view.
And under normal circumstances, I would continue in this vein for a few more lines.
Where the Wild Things Are?
"Then Jesus was led up by the Spirit into the wilderness..."
I have a feeling some of us hear that line and think, "What's the big deal?" Sometimes we think wilderness simply means nature. For some of us, any wooded area becomes wilderness. So going to a state park or other frequented nature area involves visiting the wilderness.
Others of us may have a slightly different vision, though it may still not quite convey what is meant here. While in college, the Boy Scout troop I volunteered with went hiking in the Cohutta Wilderness of the north Georgia mountains. While hiking through this area the only signs of other people were the trail itself and any people we happened to encounter along the way. We packed in what we needed and carried out whatever we took in. This is a bit closer to true wilderness.
However, this is still a much tamer version of wilderness than the gospel writer would have understood. It helps a bit if we think of wilderness as an area unaffected or minimally affected by humans. Wilderness is wild and dangerous, a place where the laws of nature hold more sway than human law. Wilderness areas do not have paved roads, houses, cell phone service, or regular/easy access to food, water, or medical assistance. In the wilderness you may not see another person for days, and it is the woodland creatures you don't see that you have to worry about. In the wilderness you can get lost, you can run out of food or water, and if you get hurt it may be days before anyone realizes you are missing and even longer for them to find you.
I have a feeling some of us hear that line and think, "What's the big deal?" Sometimes we think wilderness simply means nature. For some of us, any wooded area becomes wilderness. So going to a state park or other frequented nature area involves visiting the wilderness.
Others of us may have a slightly different vision, though it may still not quite convey what is meant here. While in college, the Boy Scout troop I volunteered with went hiking in the Cohutta Wilderness of the north Georgia mountains. While hiking through this area the only signs of other people were the trail itself and any people we happened to encounter along the way. We packed in what we needed and carried out whatever we took in. This is a bit closer to true wilderness.
However, this is still a much tamer version of wilderness than the gospel writer would have understood. It helps a bit if we think of wilderness as an area unaffected or minimally affected by humans. Wilderness is wild and dangerous, a place where the laws of nature hold more sway than human law. Wilderness areas do not have paved roads, houses, cell phone service, or regular/easy access to food, water, or medical assistance. In the wilderness you may not see another person for days, and it is the woodland creatures you don't see that you have to worry about. In the wilderness you can get lost, you can run out of food or water, and if you get hurt it may be days before anyone realizes you are missing and even longer for them to find you.
Jesus, Space-Time, and (Trans)figuration
Today is Transfiguration Sunday in the church calendar used by many congregations. The Sundays since we welcomed Christ into the world at Christmas have focused on Jesus becoming known to the world. This includes his birth, the announcement to the Shepherds, his presentation at the temple, the visit of the magi, and the beginning of his teachings.
Today we witness a story of Jesus ascending to a mountain top with a few of his disciples. While they are there, the disciples see Jesus talking with Moses and Elijah. He is transformed in their image, and we hear the voice from heaven declaring Jesus is God’s son.
Two points here show us that this is a pivotal story for the gospel writer. First, we have a repeat of the words spoken at Jesus’ baptism. “This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased.”
Second, we have the appearance of Moses and Elijah on the mountain with Jesus.
Taken together this is meant to show that Jesus is the culmination of all that has come before in the law (represented by Moses) and the prophets (represented by Elijah).
This was an important point in that early community and still for us today. Jesus was born into a Jewish community. His earliest followers were Jewish and would have recognized all of the hints and allusions to the Hebrew Scriptures found in Jesus’ story. And here we have a scene that brings to mind not only the story of Moses going up the mountain to talk with God and receive the ten commandments, but also of Elijah going up the holy mountain to behold the glory of God.
This reinforces their belief that Jesus is indeed the one foretold – the Messiah that would come to fulfill all that is in the law and the prophets.
* * *
Several years ago when I was doing my MDiv at Garrett-Evangelical, I took a class called Worship and the Arts. It was a great class in which we explored the interaction of art with the sacred stories we tell in worship. One of our assignments that term was to develop a work of art based on a biblical story.
I have written poetry for years, so I wanted to stretch myself with another form of artistic expression. I chose to do a painting based on the story of Moses on Mount Sinai from Exodus.
In the background were the pillars of smoke and fire that had guided the Israelites across the desert. Then in the center of a mountain range were two glowing circles. One had two rays coming out of it symbolizing the two rays of light coming out of Moses’ head (translated as horns in Latin, leading to art depicting Moses with horns in the middle ages).
I included a cross in the center of the other circle. You see, I had this story of the Transfiguration in mind as well as I was doing the painting. And I was also reminded of the final episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation. In that episode, Captain Picard has a vision and is guided to bring a star ship to the same point in space at three different times over his life. The result is a rupture in space-time such that in the final minutes of the episode, all three ships from all three times appear at once.
And so I wondered. What if Jesus is not meeting with the spirits of Moses and Elijah? What if somehow this experience that Jesus and his followers have is the same experience that Moses had on the mountain and the same experience that Elijah had on the mountain? What if Jesus and Moses and Elijah are all meeting each other from their own times in this place?
There are other examples of this idea in Christian tradition. For example, in Holy Communion, we participate in Jesus’ last meal with his disciples. Like an octave in music, each Sunday participates in each Sunday that comes before it. Baptism is a participation in the dying and rising of Christ.
There is something to be said for seeing ourselves in the stories that have already been told. Each week, Christian gather together to worship. Like Moses, Elijah, and Jesus, we come into the presence of God. And hopefully we are transformed by our encounter with God.
Or perhaps it is less a transformation and more that what is truly within us finally shows through, if only temporarily. This brings to mind other "trans" words.
Sometimes our true nature is hidden beneath what appears on the outside, and it can be hard to let our true nature out. Whether our true nature is as relatively simple as being a compassionate and loving neighbor to those around us or as difficult as living in a body that doesn’t match who you are inside, it can be difficult to be our true selves. For some, like Jesus, being in God’s presence allows the truth to shine through. But for others, the Church can be a place where the truth is denied, pushed down, and kept hidden.
Like it was for the disciples, the truth can be frightening. But Jesus comes to us and says, "do not be afraid." And we are called to go out to others and say to them, "do not be afraid."
Our call as we come into the presence of God and are transformed by God's presence is to make space for others, to welcome those that may not already know God, to welcome those who have been excluded by others, to welcome people as they really are.
For a time on that mountain Jesus was transfigured. Jesus who had the body of a man also contained within the fullness of God. And his disciples glimpsed the true one hidden by the outer form.
May we, when we gather together to worship, know the presence of God.
May we be transfigured and transformed by this encounter with God that our true nature may come out.
And then let us go forth in service of that truth.
Today we witness a story of Jesus ascending to a mountain top with a few of his disciples. While they are there, the disciples see Jesus talking with Moses and Elijah. He is transformed in their image, and we hear the voice from heaven declaring Jesus is God’s son.
Two points here show us that this is a pivotal story for the gospel writer. First, we have a repeat of the words spoken at Jesus’ baptism. “This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased.”
Second, we have the appearance of Moses and Elijah on the mountain with Jesus.
Taken together this is meant to show that Jesus is the culmination of all that has come before in the law (represented by Moses) and the prophets (represented by Elijah).
This was an important point in that early community and still for us today. Jesus was born into a Jewish community. His earliest followers were Jewish and would have recognized all of the hints and allusions to the Hebrew Scriptures found in Jesus’ story. And here we have a scene that brings to mind not only the story of Moses going up the mountain to talk with God and receive the ten commandments, but also of Elijah going up the holy mountain to behold the glory of God.
This reinforces their belief that Jesus is indeed the one foretold – the Messiah that would come to fulfill all that is in the law and the prophets.
* * *
Several years ago when I was doing my MDiv at Garrett-Evangelical, I took a class called Worship and the Arts. It was a great class in which we explored the interaction of art with the sacred stories we tell in worship. One of our assignments that term was to develop a work of art based on a biblical story.
I have written poetry for years, so I wanted to stretch myself with another form of artistic expression. I chose to do a painting based on the story of Moses on Mount Sinai from Exodus.
In the background were the pillars of smoke and fire that had guided the Israelites across the desert. Then in the center of a mountain range were two glowing circles. One had two rays coming out of it symbolizing the two rays of light coming out of Moses’ head (translated as horns in Latin, leading to art depicting Moses with horns in the middle ages).
I included a cross in the center of the other circle. You see, I had this story of the Transfiguration in mind as well as I was doing the painting. And I was also reminded of the final episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation. In that episode, Captain Picard has a vision and is guided to bring a star ship to the same point in space at three different times over his life. The result is a rupture in space-time such that in the final minutes of the episode, all three ships from all three times appear at once.
And so I wondered. What if Jesus is not meeting with the spirits of Moses and Elijah? What if somehow this experience that Jesus and his followers have is the same experience that Moses had on the mountain and the same experience that Elijah had on the mountain? What if Jesus and Moses and Elijah are all meeting each other from their own times in this place?
There are other examples of this idea in Christian tradition. For example, in Holy Communion, we participate in Jesus’ last meal with his disciples. Like an octave in music, each Sunday participates in each Sunday that comes before it. Baptism is a participation in the dying and rising of Christ.
There is something to be said for seeing ourselves in the stories that have already been told. Each week, Christian gather together to worship. Like Moses, Elijah, and Jesus, we come into the presence of God. And hopefully we are transformed by our encounter with God.
Or perhaps it is less a transformation and more that what is truly within us finally shows through, if only temporarily. This brings to mind other "trans" words.
Sometimes our true nature is hidden beneath what appears on the outside, and it can be hard to let our true nature out. Whether our true nature is as relatively simple as being a compassionate and loving neighbor to those around us or as difficult as living in a body that doesn’t match who you are inside, it can be difficult to be our true selves. For some, like Jesus, being in God’s presence allows the truth to shine through. But for others, the Church can be a place where the truth is denied, pushed down, and kept hidden.
Like it was for the disciples, the truth can be frightening. But Jesus comes to us and says, "do not be afraid." And we are called to go out to others and say to them, "do not be afraid."
Our call as we come into the presence of God and are transformed by God's presence is to make space for others, to welcome those that may not already know God, to welcome those who have been excluded by others, to welcome people as they really are.
For a time on that mountain Jesus was transfigured. Jesus who had the body of a man also contained within the fullness of God. And his disciples glimpsed the true one hidden by the outer form.
May we, when we gather together to worship, know the presence of God.
May we be transfigured and transformed by this encounter with God that our true nature may come out.
And then let us go forth in service of that truth.