Author: firstdelray

Luke 5:8 (Common English Bible)

            Harry Emerson Fosdick once commented to his congregation, the Riverside Church in the City of New York, that “Many people have pretty much reduced their Christianity to admiration of Jesus.”[i]Initially, this seems rather harmless. Jesus is a glorious character – a G rated individual in an R rated world. The beauty and strength of Jesus provides comfortable – and safe – fodder for family-friendly conversation, a Disney-like character to share with children at bedtime. His compassion, his high moral code, and his extravagant forgiveness remain beyond reproach. Here is an individual that sets the bar high for our own living. It would be difficult to find anyone who does not admire this man.

            Yet, it is precisely that admiration of Jesus that creates so much difficulty. We cast our eyes upon Jesus, note his exceptional life and obedience to God, and then we look in the mirror. There is present a gulf, as wide as the east is from the west, between the man Jesus was, and is, and who we are. Yes, our admiration for Jesus is great. But consider the effect that has upon our own self-image. Few of us will possess the musical greatness of Mozart, the artistic talent of Michelangelo or political savvy of Lincoln. And no one will possess the lofty moral greatness of Jesus. We admire Jesus from a distance. But who can ever approach his character in their own life? That is why Peter said to Jesus, “Leave me, Lord, for I’m a sinner!” Jesus’ flawlessness also makes him the most disturbing personality we ever face.

            It is precisely this reason, says Fosdick, that we don’t instinctively run to Jesus. Instinctively we try to escape him. We cannot live with ourselves and with Jesus.[ii]Anyone who takes Jesus seriously moves quickly beyond admiration to echo Peter’s anguish. Jesus is reduced to an extraordinary man that no one can ever, adequately, emulate. Jesus may be our ideal but the contrast between who we are and who Jesus is stirs exhaustion and despair. Anyone who doesn’t experience the hopelessness of Peter simply hasn’t taken Jesus seriously.

            The Good News is that the Bible has more to say about Jesus. Jesus is extraordinary in love and obedience. This is all true. But more than this, Jesus is the revelation of God’s desire to infuse our lives with the same strength and power we see in the person of Jesus. If Jesus were only a teacher, telling us how we ought to live, then despair would be ours. By our own strength and determination of will, we cannot live as Christ teaches. But what the disciples soon learned is that Jesus not only presented a clear vision of another way of life, Jesus was the conduit of God’s power for moving toward that vision. What a difference that makes! And it is that discovery by Peter that turned his first revolt from Christ to abiding, joyful hope.

Joy,

---

Revelation 3:20 (Common English Bible)

            There comes the moment for each of us when we can no longer deny our inner darkness and weakness, our deficiency against the common struggles of daily life and we become weary. Exhausted, we surrender our grasping to be in control, to be strong and without need for anyone, and we seek something else – a union with some strength and purpose beyond ourselves. This verse from Revelation comes to us at such moments. Here we are told that Jesus stands at the door and is ready to come in, if we allow it, and to take possession of our lives, to re-create our inner life and fill it with light and strength. As we stop grasping and are, rather, grasped by Jesus, we are gradually lifted by him, in spite of ourselves, and, from degree to degree, changed into the likeness of Christ.

            For this to proceed in our own life we must first recognize the knock of Jesus. How is that done? It may not be immediately recognizable. It may only be a vague sense of dissatisfaction with the movement of your life; a growing discomfort with the hopes, desires and ambitions that have fueled your daily decisions. Perhaps the knock is found in protest, deep in your heart, about what others are saying to you about this, or that, or another person and you sense that all of it is wrong. Something stirs within you for another conversation, one that is nobler, more loving, and lovelier. It may even be the Christ-like manner you witness in another and find that you desire to share in that behavior. The knock may simply be an impulse, a nudge, a longing of the heart.

            But to recognize the knock is insufficient. It is inconceivable that anyone would hear a knock on the front door of their home and simply ignore it. To ignore an unsettled heart is just as inconceivable. A knock demands to be answered, the door opened. What stands on the other side may be refused but it must be acknowledged. For a disciple, the door is opened and Christ is admitted at once. There should be no postponement. A postponement weakens the spirit and may result in missing Christ altogether, Christ possibly never returning again. To welcome Christ is to learn of him, to listen deeply to what he teaches and then to obey all that we understand of him. It is to acknowledge that life without Christ was failing us and to utterly reject any notion of negotiating with what Christ demands.

            What remains is a promise. The person, who hears the knock, opens the door and admits Christ into the inner place of their life discovers a deep and abiding communion with him, “and (I) will have dinner with them, and they will have dinner with me.” This is a relationship with Christ that moves way beyond simple obedience. It is the richest and most intimate of relationships; a relationship where one heart deeply shapes the heart of another and two are like one. Christ becomes more than a savior. Christ becomes one who makes us a better person and shares the journey of life as a contemporary, providing life with a peace and joy and adequacy that is simply unavailable without him.

Joy,

Colossians 2:14 (Common English Bible)

             There is a primary tendency to think of the cross of Jesus Christ as something that was inflicted upon him; that Jesus was a passive character in this narrative, bowing his head in meek submission to this terrible unfolding of events. Yet, in these words from Paul to the church in Colossae, that clearly isn’t the case. The cross was a demonstration of God’s power. According to Paul, the cross was actually God’s decisive response to our sin. God’s desire was to destroy the record of sin against us. This God accomplished by “nailing it to the cross.” Often we see in our mind’s eye that the Roman government was doing the nailing that day – the day that Jesus was crucified.  Clearly Paul’s words do not fit such an account. It was God doing the nailing that day.

            Jesus could have escaped the cross. He spoke during the evening meal with his disciples that one of them would betray him. Following dinner, in the garden, Jesus spoke to God, in prayer, about the cross that was now imminent. The cross was no surprise to Jesus. And armed with this knowledge, Jesus could have left the city of Jerusalem entirely and escaped. But he did not do so. Jesus deliberately directs his steps to the cross. There is present in this story an atmosphere of mastery about all of the unfolding events – a sense that all of it had been carefully choreographed. Resolutely, Jesus sets his face to the cross. Jesus is in control, not those who hate him.

            This profound, and often overlooked, truth offers deep insight into how we understand and live into our faith. First, it makes a considerable difference to understand the cross as God’s intentional and active will dealing with us. God isn’t passive. Often we think of God’s power as some sort of great reservoir that is available for the asking. It is there for us to seek out, to explore and draw strength as the need arises. Our misunderstanding is that God waits our decision to be engaged in faith formation and then answers the door when we knock. Except the witness of the Bible is just the opposite. God is active, always taking the first step toward us. The cross demonstrates God’s movement toward us, involving us in a most personal relationship as God grabs hold of our sin, “nailing it to the cross.”

            The second thing is this: the cross of Christ is not simply God’s activity toward us, but also God’s activity through us for the sake of the world. It is insufficient to understand the cross as God’s salvation for individual men and women. Both the Old and New Testament gives witness to a God movement to reclaim the world. And that movement is accomplished through individuals gathered together in a faith community. Those God calls and separates apart from the world eventually become the bearers of God’s universal activity of salvation for all the nations. At the center of our faith is the conviction that followers of Christ do not simply find themselves passive bystanders to what the mission of God accomplishes. Our sins are nailed to the cross; our relationship to God is restored, all for the larger purpose of making us partners in God’s redemption of the world.

John 1:40-42a (Common English Bible)

            John the Baptist was in the wilderness once again preaching that the Kingdom of God was drawing near. But this day would be different. On this day John sighted in the distance, Jesus. And when John’s eyes fell upon Jesus there was a spontaneous utterance of his thoughts, “Look! The Lamb of God!” This was all that Andrew, one of John’s followers, needed to hear. Instantly, Andrew realized that the object of his longing had now appeared. Andrew and another, unnamed person who was with him, left John and began to follow Jesus. Andrew became the first disciple of Jesus Christ.

             Andrew was the first disciple to follow Christ but little is known about him. John’s Gospel tells us that Peter was his brother; the same Peter who would step-out of a boat upon stormy water to approach Jesus, the Peter that Jesus declared would be the rock upon which the church would be built, the Peter who would deny Jesus three times on the night of Jesus’ arrest. Yes, that Peter. The gospels provide considerable detail about Andrew’s brother, Peter. But of Andrew, we know little. Perhaps, for many ordinary followers of Jesus, Andrew’s story is a story of grace. Andrew was not a superstar disciple, not in the sense that he plays a major role in the story of Jesus. But it was Andrew who brought his brother, Peter, to Jesus. Without Andrew, there would be no story of Peter.

            John’s Gospel only mentions Andrew two other times. On the occasion of Jesus teaching five thousand men, plus women and children, Jesus asks his disciples to provide a meal for the people. The suggestion of feeding so many exhausts the disciples; all the disciples except Andrew, that is. Andrew goes looking for what is available. Andrew simply trusts that anything is possible when Jesus is nearby. In this story, Andrew brings a child to Jesus with the child’s meager five loaves of bread and two fish. Then, the final story about Andrew occurs during the last week of Jesus’ life. Some Greeks are in town for Passover and are curious about Jesus. The Greeks made inquiry of Philip who introduced them to Andrew, who brought them to Jesus. What little we know of Andrew is enough. Andrew was always bringing people to Jesus.

            What is remarkable about the story of Andrew is that there is no evidence that he was ever jealous of the other disciples. Andrew is only mentioned three times in the Gospel of John and in each instance, Andrew brings someone to Jesus and then steps back into the shadows. Andrew never sought, nor received, top billing in the unfolding story of Jesus Christ. It was enough to be used by God to introduce others to Jesus. And then Andrew demonstrated grace in being left behind as the drama of Jesus moved forward. Andrew understood that it wasn’t about him. In the end, that just may be the quality that made Andrew one of the greatest disciples.

Joy,                 

Luke 4:18 (Common English Bible)

     Raised in the sixties and seventies, I was taught to loathe and fear Communism. I was taught well and I did. Yet, as childhood gave way to adulthood my capacity to think and reason for myself developed. One natural result was that I began to question everything, including the political ideology of Communism. College studies introduced me to The Communist Manifestoand my curiosity continued to mature and deepen. That personal and intellectual growth included my love and appreciation of The Holy Bible. Initially, I was surprised to discover that at least one basic value in Communism, a value that is held as essential to that ideology, is shared with the Christian faith: a passionate concern for the poor and social justice. According to Luke’s Gospel, Jesus’ first recorded sermon establishes this value as intrinsic to the mission of Jesus.

     This uncomfortable truth is why many Protestant pastors and Christians in general supported Fidel Castro’s revolution in Cuba in the late fifties and his establishment of a Communist government. The great social needs of the Cuban people, once the responsibility of the Christian Church, would now be addressed more comprehensively by the government. The hungry would now be fed, the naked clothed and the poor provided opportunity. This all had a familiar sound of Holy Scripture. The question pressed, what exactly is there to loathe and fear about that? Communism and Christianity share the same value and same mission to lift the poor and the marginalized. This is undoubtedly one reason that Communism has such a strong appeal to underprivileged people around the world.

     But there is a critical difference between Christianity and Communism – a difference that became very much apparent to me during my recent trip to Cuba: Communism makes no place for God. Communism expects to usher in a new day of equality for all people by its own, unaided efforts. Religion in general and Christianity in particular, is little more than wishful thinking. Governments are purposeful, they take charge and act. Christianity cedes responsibility to an unseen deity, argues Communism. The trouble comes when Communism seeks to advance its values through any means including force, violence, and imprisonment. The same people for whom the government seeks to provide equality are treated as instruments of the Communist cause.

     I no longer loathe and fear Communism – those are strong words. Nor do I entertain any notion that Communism is the hope of the world. The world has one hope, and that hope is centered in the person of Jesus Christ. Under Communism, life is cheap. In the Christian faith we embrace the conviction that each person is created in the likeness of God and is deeply valued. Communism advances its mission through force and intimidation. Christ advances his mission through the power of faith formation and the transformation of the human heart. Cuba lacks that perfect society for which The Communist Manifesto aspires. That is because such a perfect society will be found first and last in the person of Jesus Christ whose mission was, and is, the lifting of the poor by people just like us whose hearts have been changed, not by fear, but by love.     

           

Joy,

Blog 021916

John 17:3 (Common English Bible)

     Perhaps the greatest honor of my ministry was the invitation to preach for the First Presbyterian Church of Havana, Cuba this past Valentine’s Day. Over 400 people were in attendance and it appeared that every one of them brought their own Bible. But there was something more. There was something in the manner in which their Bible was clutched in their hands, a strong sense that they were holding close to themselves a life support device. Present was a sense that if they let go of their Bible they would be letting go of life itself. True, I had only been in their country for five days. Maybe I was sensing more than was actually present, but I don’t think so. There was a spiritual power among these worshippers that I often miss in worshipping communities in the United States. And the source of that power appeared to come directly from a Bible held securely in hand.

      It is not difficult to discern those who are well fed from those who are hungry. The evidence is in the eyes and in the manner in which people carry themselves. The eyes of the hungry are desperate and the body appears weak. It isn’t so for the well fed. The eyes are clear and hopeful and there is present in the body, strength – not only physical strength but a strength in which the individual faces opportunities and challenges of the day. The worshippers that morning in Havana were well fed. It was in their eyes. It was in their smiles and the warm manner in which they greeted one another. It was in the positive manner in which they anticipated worship. And in their worship, it was as if each person was on tiptoe, searching the worship space for evidence of the risen Christ. They were a people well fed. The source of their rich nourishment held in their hands.

     I preached that morning on the importance of not becoming distracted. When we are distracted by difficulties and challenges, we become afraid. The Bible calls us to remain focused on one thing; to remain focused on the risen Christ. It is this focus that reminds us that we live not by our power but by God’s power. Perhaps you have heard the expression, “Preaching to the choir?” Simply, it means preaching to those who have already heard. That morning in Havana, I preached to the choir. Since the political revolution in that country of the late fifties and the U.S. embargo since 1961, life for the Cubans has been one difficulty followed by another. Life is hard for the average citizen of that nation. But for the Christian community, they are well fed – not necessarily with physical bread but with the bread of life, Jesus Christ.

      In the words of Christ, “This is eternal life: to know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom you sent.” That is the central purpose of the Bible, to make known God. It is this central purpose that shines forth from every person who regularly reads the Bible and lives by every promise found there. The Bible changes lives. It fills spiritual hungers inside all of us, and releases the uncommon power of God for our life today and all of our tomorrows. I accepted an invitation to preach the Bible to a congregation in Havana, Cuba. When I stepped into the pulpit and looked into their eyes, I saw a people who had already heard.

Joy,

2 Corinthians 12:9b (Common English Bible)

     Bragging about our weaknesses is uncommon. What is customary – even encouraged – is that we “hide” our weaknesses and present the illusion of a life that is lived in a tranquil manner that is deep and even and unhindered by frailties. One unfortunate result is the deep disillusionment that is experienced when we find our heroes far too human, with frailties and weaknesses like our own. We look for people who seem to have no limitations, no handicaps, no imperfections and we aspire to be like them. In no small manner, people with weaknesses are not considered worthy of our admiration and praise.

     Naturally, the danger of finding such a person, a person who is unencumbered by difficulties and imperfections, is to know someone who also possesses considerable conceit. They need no one; they require nothing for their journey through life, not even God. Worse, when understood correctly, their perfection fails to inspire those of us who struggle with handicaps. Another’s perfection can only result in our despair. This is why Paul “brags” about his weaknesses – Paul’s interest is that we praise only God and that we find in his broken, imperfect life reason for encouragement as we struggle with our own handicaps.

     Paul did pray multiple times that his handicap might be removed. That is a demonstration of his humanity. It is an honest prayer that we have no doubt prayed ourselves. Yet, our spiritual condition is developed, positively or negatively, from the place of our weaknesses. For many, the first and instinctive reaction toward our limitations is a negative attitude – a rebellion or self-pity. We revolt against our limitations. Such a negative struggle often advances to cursing God. What we fail to see is that disappointment with our imperfection arises from conceit – we expect to be perfect. That is a poor spiritual condition indeed!

     Paul’s positive and hopeful response to his weaknesses demonstrates that anyone, regardless of their limitations, can make a spiritual contribution to the world.  History is replete with stories of people who rise up and make great contributions in spite of handicaps. These are the stories that inspire each of us to push through whatever difficulties hinder us and advance our lives and the lives of others. Anyone fortunate enough to have the charm and looks of a prince, excellent physical and mental health and is untroubled by limitations, fail to inspire those who struggle daily under limitations. It is not easy to estimate the spiritual stimulus that comes into human life from handicapped people who have found that Christ’s power is sufficient for them.

Joy,  

Genesis 4:9 (Common English Bible)

     We all recognize this evasive response; perhaps we have used it ourselves: God questions Cain as to the whereabouts of his brother, Abel. Cain responds, “I don’t know. Am I my brother’s guardian?” When you don’t have a good answer, or don’t want to answer at all, you are evasive. And many times it works! Even if everyone knows that you are being evasive. Except it doesn’t work for Cain, it doesn’t work this time. Immediately, God confronts Cain about his behavior; about Cain’s anger that results in him killing his brother, Abel. God doesn’t let Cain off the hook. Apparently, evasive maneuvers don’t work with God.

     This story is a reminder that all of us are God’s children. It is a story that all of us are connected to one another by our common humanity. We belong to a great family of God that share mutual interests and concerns. Each one should care for all, and all should care for each. This notion of our interdependence with one another is pervasive throughout the Bible. In the twelfth chapter of Genesis, God calls a nation, the nation of Israel, to be a people set apart. The purpose of setting this nation apart is so that God may bless them. And God blesses them specifically so that they may bless the nations of the world. God’s concern is always for communities of people. Though God does select particular persons for special tasks – such as Moses and the apostle Paul – they are always selected for the purposes of blessing a community of people.

     Naturally, this runs counter to the dominant view of western civilization that values individual initiative, individual success, and personal responsibility. None of that is bad except for when it is used as an excuse for not concerning ourselves with our brothers and sisters who have needs. There seems to be a “survival of the fittest” mentality that suggests that each one is responsible for themselves, and not the responsibility of the community. Where this is most evident is in the distribution of wealth – those who have wealth seem to have little concern about the growing gap between those who have little and those who have more than they need. “Am I my brother’s guardian?”

     Whether we like it or not, we are. A careful reader of the Bible cannot pretend to miss God’s concern for the poor, God’s command in the Old Testament to provide debt relief to those burdened by debt and the clear instruction to redistribute wealth in 2 Corinthians 8:14, 15. In fact, as the church gathers for worship, and an offering is collected, the church participates in a redistribution of wealth for “the blessing of the nations.” God has established that we have an obligation for the welfare of one another, without which our society disintegrates, and we become fearful of scarcity resulting in selfishness and meanness toward one another. When a child of God dies because they lacked access to adequate health care, or food, or shelter, each of us must be ready. God will ask, “Where is your brother, where is your sister?”

Joy,