1 Timothy 2:1-2
First of all, then, I urge that supplications, prayers, intercessions, and thanksgivings be made for everyone, for kings and all who are in high positions, so that we may lead a quiet and peaceable life in all godliness and dignity.
I just read in the newspaper this morning of Ernest C. Withers, a photojournalist who was in the inner circle of civil rights leaders in the 1960s. He was in Martin Luther King's room at the Lorraine Motel in Memphis on the night King was killed. Turns out, Withers was a FBI informant, paid to keep tabs on the movement and report to the government. He died a few years ago, but his photos are famous.
The civil rights movement in the 60s was probably the most visible and successful act of civil disobedience in America in our lifetimes. In large part, it came out of the churches, so it was immersed in prayer for leaders, as the writer of 1 Timothy urges. And it was, for the most part, peaceable, thanks to Martin Luther King Jr., the other civil rights leaders and their spirituality. Yet it was by no means quiet. When Rosa Parks refused to give up her seat on the bus, she may not have said a word, but her actions were loud and they threatened southern whites.
It may be that when 1 Timothy was written, probably in the early part of the 2nd century CE, the Roman rulers were allowing strange sects, like Christianity at the time, to exist as long as they didn't stir up trouble. Maybe the church leaders appreciated this freedom from direct persecution and wanted to maintain it. The best way to do that would be to pray for the emperor and try not to get caught up in any kind of resistance to the government. Laying low and staying out of sight might have been their best strategy for surviving.
What do you think these words from 1 Timothy mean for us today?
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Monday, August 30, 2010
Divine Examination Psalm 139:1-6
O Lord, you have searched me
and known me.
You know when I sit down and when I rise up;
you discern my thoughts from afar.
You search out my path and my lying down,
and are acquainted with all my ways.
Even before a word is on my tongue,
O Lord, you know it completely.
You hem me in, behind and before,
and lay your hand upon me.
Such knowledge is too wonderful for me;
it is so high that I cannot attain it.
The 19th-century French contemplative Therese of Lisieux said: "Our faults cannot hurt God. Nor will our failures interfere with our own holiness, for genuine holiness is precisely a matter of enduring our own imperfections patiently."
Hmm, I always thought that holiness was the absence of sin. The more perfect in thought and behavior you could be, the holier you were. Perhaps, as Therese suggests, holiness is not the pursuit of perfection but rather a matter of bearing with yourself, even the more distasteful parts of yourself, your sin.
First though, awareness is necessary. This patient enduring can only be accomplished by those who are aware of their imperfections. Holiness requires self-honesty. You can't sit patiently with that which you deny exists. Simple enough. But really, who wants to sincerely probe the dark recesses? Self-examination is difficult work. As distasteful as it sounds though, self-examination is much more tolerable than being examined by another.
The psalmist, in Psalm 139, speaks of being searched, or examined, by God. Read through those six verses. Do they make you feel comfortable or uncomfortable?
and known me.
You know when I sit down and when I rise up;
you discern my thoughts from afar.
You search out my path and my lying down,
and are acquainted with all my ways.
Even before a word is on my tongue,
O Lord, you know it completely.
You hem me in, behind and before,
and lay your hand upon me.
Such knowledge is too wonderful for me;
it is so high that I cannot attain it.
The 19th-century French contemplative Therese of Lisieux said: "Our faults cannot hurt God. Nor will our failures interfere with our own holiness, for genuine holiness is precisely a matter of enduring our own imperfections patiently."
Hmm, I always thought that holiness was the absence of sin. The more perfect in thought and behavior you could be, the holier you were. Perhaps, as Therese suggests, holiness is not the pursuit of perfection but rather a matter of bearing with yourself, even the more distasteful parts of yourself, your sin.
First though, awareness is necessary. This patient enduring can only be accomplished by those who are aware of their imperfections. Holiness requires self-honesty. You can't sit patiently with that which you deny exists. Simple enough. But really, who wants to sincerely probe the dark recesses? Self-examination is difficult work. As distasteful as it sounds though, self-examination is much more tolerable than being examined by another.
The psalmist, in Psalm 139, speaks of being searched, or examined, by God. Read through those six verses. Do they make you feel comfortable or uncomfortable?
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
If Jesus Came to Dinner--Luke 14:1-14
Jesus went to dinner at the house of a Pharisee and "when he noticed how the guests chose the places of honor, he told them a parable. When you are invited by someone to a wedding banquet, do not sit down at the place of honor, in case someone more distinguished than you has been invited by the host; and the host who invited both of you may come and say to you, 'give this person your place,' then in disgrace you would have to take the lowest place. But when you are invited, go and sit at the lowest place, so that when your host comes, he may say to you, 'Friend, move up higher;' then you will be honored in the presence of all those who sit at table with you."
If you threw a dinner party and invited Jesus, where would you set him? Next to your loquacious but boring aunt? Between your two nihilist cousins? Would you leave it up to him to choose his place at the table? Wherever he sat, you can be sure he would have stirred things up, probably offending you and your other dinner guests.
It is hard for us to imagine how his words here can have any more impact than some advice on etiquette by Miss Manners. The words "disgrace" and "honor" should clue us in that he is speaking a language that was more meaningful for the people of his day than for us. All of relational life revolved around avoiding shame and gaining honor. How you were held in the community's regard meant everything.
How does this text speak to you? In what way might God be calling you to the lowest place?
If you threw a dinner party and invited Jesus, where would you set him? Next to your loquacious but boring aunt? Between your two nihilist cousins? Would you leave it up to him to choose his place at the table? Wherever he sat, you can be sure he would have stirred things up, probably offending you and your other dinner guests.
It is hard for us to imagine how his words here can have any more impact than some advice on etiquette by Miss Manners. The words "disgrace" and "honor" should clue us in that he is speaking a language that was more meaningful for the people of his day than for us. All of relational life revolved around avoiding shame and gaining honor. How you were held in the community's regard meant everything.
How does this text speak to you? In what way might God be calling you to the lowest place?
Saturday, August 14, 2010
Family Values?
Luke 12:49-52
I have come to bring fire to the earth, and how I wish it were already kindled! But I have a baptism to undergo and how distressed I am until it is completed! Do you think I came to bring peace on the earth? No, I tell you, but division. From now on there will be five in a family divided against each other, three against two and two against three.
This is one of Jesus' "hard" sayings. It seems to go against the healthy relationships other scriptures call us to. Jesus seems to be saying that even our closest, most stable relationships are affected, not always positively, by his coming.
The fire Jesus is referring to is the kingdom of God. Jesus was convinced that in his own person and mission a new phase in God's plan for the world was beginning. The kingdom of God was coming.
In view of this, Jesus doesn't diminish the importance of the family but instead points to the primacy of following Jesus. Even our most valued attachment's take a secondary place to the call of God on our lives. Jesus wasn't promoting strained relationships; he was saying that sometimes divisions are inevitable for disciples.
So Jesus came to bring fire. Where is the fire in you, that fire of purpose that launches you outside yourself and your piddly needs to a larger, more meaningful existence in God's kingdom? The fire of calling. The fire of following that call. Has the fire been smothered by other concerns? Time to consider anew God's destiny for us.
I have come to bring fire to the earth, and how I wish it were already kindled! But I have a baptism to undergo and how distressed I am until it is completed! Do you think I came to bring peace on the earth? No, I tell you, but division. From now on there will be five in a family divided against each other, three against two and two against three.
This is one of Jesus' "hard" sayings. It seems to go against the healthy relationships other scriptures call us to. Jesus seems to be saying that even our closest, most stable relationships are affected, not always positively, by his coming.
The fire Jesus is referring to is the kingdom of God. Jesus was convinced that in his own person and mission a new phase in God's plan for the world was beginning. The kingdom of God was coming.
In view of this, Jesus doesn't diminish the importance of the family but instead points to the primacy of following Jesus. Even our most valued attachment's take a secondary place to the call of God on our lives. Jesus wasn't promoting strained relationships; he was saying that sometimes divisions are inevitable for disciples.
So Jesus came to bring fire. Where is the fire in you, that fire of purpose that launches you outside yourself and your piddly needs to a larger, more meaningful existence in God's kingdom? The fire of calling. The fire of following that call. Has the fire been smothered by other concerns? Time to consider anew God's destiny for us.
Monday, July 5, 2010
The Quality of Mercy--Luke 10:25-37
Took my family to see the new "Karate Kid" last week. Most of us thought it was a decent enough remake of the original, but I kept getting distracted by my obsession with comparing the new one to the original, which I venerate as one of those movies of my youth that changed my life (okay, it didn't exactly change my life, but I still liked it a lot).
Much was changed in the new movie--the setting for one, which is in China. I liked that change. One of the things that remained the same is the motto of the "evil" martial arts instructor for the bullies. I can't remember the entire motto, but part of it is "no mercy." He teaches his class to have no mercy on their opponents and to "finish" them when they are down. This vicious attitude is reprehensible to Mr. Miyagi in the original and to Jackie Chan's character in the remake. Fairness, respect and mercy are central to their understanding of martial arts. I know this first hand now that my son, Jack, is taking Tae Kwon Do. At the end of each session, the kids gather around the instructor and shout out their motto, and one of the themes is mercy.
As Jack learns to live into a life called to mercy through his martial arts instruction, I hope he is also learning something about mercy from his family and faith community. The gospel reading in worship on Sunday is the very familiar story from Luke 10 of the good Samaritan. A lawyer asks Jesus what he must do to inherit eternal life. Jesus gives him the basic Jewish teaching of loving God and neighbor. The lawyer wants more specificity (I'll refrain from any lawyer jokes): "Who is my neighbor?" Jesus tells a story in response, rather than give the lawyer the specificity he was seeking. The story of the good Samaritan ends with Jesus now asking the lawyer a question: "Who was neighbor to the man who fell into the robber's hands?" Jesus has lobbed one to the lawyer and the lawyer hits it out of the park by answering, "The one who showed him mercy."
Reread this story today. You've read and heard this story so many times before. Try to read it with fresh eyes. What startles you about it? What pisses you off about it? What if you were a priest and heard Jesus tell this story? Would you think it fair to him? Are you the priest in the story or the Samaritan? Not an easy question, I should think.
Much was changed in the new movie--the setting for one, which is in China. I liked that change. One of the things that remained the same is the motto of the "evil" martial arts instructor for the bullies. I can't remember the entire motto, but part of it is "no mercy." He teaches his class to have no mercy on their opponents and to "finish" them when they are down. This vicious attitude is reprehensible to Mr. Miyagi in the original and to Jackie Chan's character in the remake. Fairness, respect and mercy are central to their understanding of martial arts. I know this first hand now that my son, Jack, is taking Tae Kwon Do. At the end of each session, the kids gather around the instructor and shout out their motto, and one of the themes is mercy.
As Jack learns to live into a life called to mercy through his martial arts instruction, I hope he is also learning something about mercy from his family and faith community. The gospel reading in worship on Sunday is the very familiar story from Luke 10 of the good Samaritan. A lawyer asks Jesus what he must do to inherit eternal life. Jesus gives him the basic Jewish teaching of loving God and neighbor. The lawyer wants more specificity (I'll refrain from any lawyer jokes): "Who is my neighbor?" Jesus tells a story in response, rather than give the lawyer the specificity he was seeking. The story of the good Samaritan ends with Jesus now asking the lawyer a question: "Who was neighbor to the man who fell into the robber's hands?" Jesus has lobbed one to the lawyer and the lawyer hits it out of the park by answering, "The one who showed him mercy."
Reread this story today. You've read and heard this story so many times before. Try to read it with fresh eyes. What startles you about it? What pisses you off about it? What if you were a priest and heard Jesus tell this story? Would you think it fair to him? Are you the priest in the story or the Samaritan? Not an easy question, I should think.
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Make a Joyful Noise--Psalm 100
This Sunday is Music Appreciation Sunday at WPPC. The choir will sing more than the usual one anthem, the congregation will have the opportunity to select the hymns and Christopher, of course, will be magnificent on the organ. I will diverge from my custom of reading from the Revised Common Lectionary readings for Sunday and read Psalm 100: "Make a joyful noise unto the Lord... Serve the Lord with gladness: come before his presence with singing."
The Psalms have been called the hymnal of the second temple. These poems were put to music and sung during worship. Psalm 100 is one of the most beautiful of the songs of praise we find in the Psalms. Music was an important part of ancient Jewish worship, just as it is a vital part of our worship.
Sure, in the Christian churches, we can't agree on what kind of music God likes best. You can find churches that worship with loud, screeching guitars and drum solos. You can find churches that worship with quiet, meditative Taize music. You can find everything in between. And wherever you are on this spectrum, you wonder with dumbfounded amazement how those other people can worship, can connect with God, using that kind of music. But worship they do. Thanks be to God.
In the 1970s, hymn writer Fred Pratt Green wrote the following final stanza to his hymn "When in Our Music God is Glorified:"
Let every instrument be tuned for praise!
Let all rejoice who have a voice to raise!
And may God give us faith to sing always!
Alleluia!
Go make some noise...
The Psalms have been called the hymnal of the second temple. These poems were put to music and sung during worship. Psalm 100 is one of the most beautiful of the songs of praise we find in the Psalms. Music was an important part of ancient Jewish worship, just as it is a vital part of our worship.
Sure, in the Christian churches, we can't agree on what kind of music God likes best. You can find churches that worship with loud, screeching guitars and drum solos. You can find churches that worship with quiet, meditative Taize music. You can find everything in between. And wherever you are on this spectrum, you wonder with dumbfounded amazement how those other people can worship, can connect with God, using that kind of music. But worship they do. Thanks be to God.
In the 1970s, hymn writer Fred Pratt Green wrote the following final stanza to his hymn "When in Our Music God is Glorified:"
Let every instrument be tuned for praise!
Let all rejoice who have a voice to raise!
And may God give us faith to sing always!
Alleluia!
Go make some noise...
Friday, May 28, 2010
The Road to Hope--Romans 5:1-5
Paul writes that "... suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope..." (Romans 5:3-4)
Suffering can lead you down one of two roads. You can go spiraling down that steep, curvy road that passes through anger, self-pity, bitterness and ends up in despair--that is, hopelessness. This, if truth be told, is the path of least resistance when suffering is encountered. It feels like the natural progression. In the classic old story, Job's wife advises him to curse God and die. Given Job's troubles, that seems reasonable. Who would blame him?
The other road, of course, is the one Paul describes. It is a narrow, uphill, rocky road that passes through endurance and character on the way to hope. Even on this road, getting sidetracked for a time on the road that leads to hopelessness is common. Paul knew this personally. But still, the road to hope is the road to life, and it is offered to all of us as a possibility, even in the darkest of circumstances, because of all the benefits God has showered upon us. Paul mentions some of them in these opening verses of Romans 5: Justified by faith, having peace with God, having obtained access to grace, standing in grace, and God's love has been poured into our hearts.
These are the reasons that the gate to the road to hope is open and the road is passable and why hope can be experienced even amid suffering. Granted, sometimes it is a bit of a journey to get there. And the traveling is arduous, without a doubt. But God's presence never leaves us and God's benefits are never exhausted. We can move forward. As a Benedictine nun once advised the writer Kathleen Norris during a dark time: "When you come to a place where you have to go left or right, go straight ahead."
Suffering can lead you down one of two roads. You can go spiraling down that steep, curvy road that passes through anger, self-pity, bitterness and ends up in despair--that is, hopelessness. This, if truth be told, is the path of least resistance when suffering is encountered. It feels like the natural progression. In the classic old story, Job's wife advises him to curse God and die. Given Job's troubles, that seems reasonable. Who would blame him?
The other road, of course, is the one Paul describes. It is a narrow, uphill, rocky road that passes through endurance and character on the way to hope. Even on this road, getting sidetracked for a time on the road that leads to hopelessness is common. Paul knew this personally. But still, the road to hope is the road to life, and it is offered to all of us as a possibility, even in the darkest of circumstances, because of all the benefits God has showered upon us. Paul mentions some of them in these opening verses of Romans 5: Justified by faith, having peace with God, having obtained access to grace, standing in grace, and God's love has been poured into our hearts.
These are the reasons that the gate to the road to hope is open and the road is passable and why hope can be experienced even amid suffering. Granted, sometimes it is a bit of a journey to get there. And the traveling is arduous, without a doubt. But God's presence never leaves us and God's benefits are never exhausted. We can move forward. As a Benedictine nun once advised the writer Kathleen Norris during a dark time: "When you come to a place where you have to go left or right, go straight ahead."
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