Turn Around: Within Us (or, We’ll Only Be Making It Right)

I came into Lent kind of jokingly thinking that the song, "Total Eclipse of the Heart," provides a good overarching theme for the season. The repeated refrain of "turn around." The little reminders throughout of how we have fallen short and how we rely on someone outside of ourselves to help us through. It started as something of a joke, but each week seems to fit the part of the song that follows the previous week.

When I was initially planning out my themes for the season, I settled on the Jeremiah reading for today (Jeremiah 31:31-34). I felt like this readings helps to give some context to everything else going on in Lent. Jesus is saying and doing these things because God is making a new covenant with us. Jesus shows us what a life lived with God's instruction written on our hearts can look like. God lives in us.

And when we show the rest of the world the grace that God has given us, we make the world a better place.

From Celebration to Devastation

As I read the scripture passages for this week, my first thought was that I really wanted to do something with the naked man. This is my favorite text of the arrest of Jesus in the garden because of his appearance. I really wanted to do something about us being laid bare before God or maybe even something about the beginnings of the return to Eden.

But then I thought maybe I should do something about being an ass for Jesus. I really got caught up on the donkey that Jesus rides into town on Palm Sunday in certain Gospel stories. What does it mean to take a lowly place in the story to glorify God? On the other hand, why do so many of those who claim to serve God act like an ass?

But as I worked on an idea for the service this week, I was struck yet again by the flow of this particular Sunday. In many churches, this is not just Palm Sunday but Palm/Passion Sunday. We go from the triumphant entry into Jerusalem straight through Gethsemane and into the arrest, the trial, and the Crucifixion. There is a lot packed into this service.

Disruptive Discords: On Leave Taking and Transitions

It has been a while since I have posted here. A sudden move across the country and an extended period of liminality have left me somewhat bereft of words. As this initial year of transition draws to a close, I finally find myself with things to say.

I moved to Evanston, IL, in September 2001 to attend Garrett-Evangelical Theological Seminary. I had never visited campus, never even been to the Chicago-area. But for most of the past 16+ years, Garrett-Evangelical has been my home. It was the first place I truly considered home after moving out of the home I grew up in.

I entered seminary knowing I was called by God to, well, something other than what I had been doing. But I was also fairly certain I could never be like the "preachers" I was familiar with from growing up in the church in the South. As I began my classes and began to reflect on what it meant to be called, two things happened. I began to recognize the echoes of that call in my own life going back at least into high school and to understand the ways in which the stories and rhythms of Jesus' life were woven into my own. And I began to see different models for ministry beyond those I was familiar with.

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.

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.

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.

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.