Author: firstdelray

John 3:1, 2 (Common English Bible)

     Nicodemus calls the church to a ministry of imagination. A Pharisee, Nicodemus departs from the narrow, walled-in sectarian views of his colleagues and comes to Jesus in sympathetic inquiry. Perhaps Nicodemus is weary of the wooden, cramping and belittling understanding of the Bible that limits fellowship with others of another point of view. Perhaps Nicodemus fears that barriers of thought and divisions in the fellowship of faith can produce nothing higher than spiritual dwarfs. Perhaps Nicodemus simply wishes for a more expansive and imaginative faith and believes that Jesus can offer the necessary nutriment. For whatever reason, Nicodemus comes to Jesus.

     A large faith, a full-grown faith, must borrow from others. The genius of maturity is the recognition that a wider vision of this life demands the stimulus of thought found in another’s wealth. No one discovers adequate nourishment for their own development within the poverty of self-centeredness and narrow-mindedness. If we are to exercise ourselves in the wider vision of imagination – as does Nicodemus – we must listen sympathetically to understandings not our own. Otherwise we exist only in an echo chamber, our thought never growing, never expanding. It is well documented that even Shakespeare fetched his water of inspiration from the wells of other great thinkers and writers.

     J. H. Jowett reflects that one’s life, thinking and theology will remain comparatively dormant unless it is breathed upon by the bracing influence of fellowship of thought that is beyond our own. Communion with viewpoints on every side, viewpoints to both the left and right of our own grasp of the Bible and the world of thought, lifts our powers for imagination. It is in a grand and inquisitive imagination that our faith discovers strength and grand proportions. It is where we acknowledge that Jesus is more than anyone can ever fully grasp.

     It would be well if persons of faith were to exercise the same imaginative curiosity of Nicodemus. A sincere recognition of another’s position, appreciation for another’s point of view and discovery of another’s purpose and aim in faith strengthens the fellowship of church. Rather than “leaving the table” when disagreements of faith arise perhaps it would be a richer and more spacious church if we recall that largest common denominator that has always held the people of faith together, the Lordship of Jesus Christ.

Joy,

Mathew 15:25 (Common English Bible)

     From images in children’s Bibles to the great paintings of masters the world has had fashioned for us a singular picture of Jesus – one who is gentle to children, merciful to the sinner and helpful to all in urgent need. The figure of Jesus stands in sharp contrast to a harsh and indifferent world that takes little notice of the poor, hurting and marginalized. God has noticed a desperate world and responded with a gentle lamb in which there is no hatred or deceit. That is the Savior we want, that is the Savior we get. At least, that is what most depictions of Jesus convey.

     Then the careful reader of Matthew’s Gospel stumbles upon this passage. It is like hitting an unnoticed speed bump and the effect is the same; it is jarring. A woman comes to Jesus with an appeal. She uses simple speech, simple words that every one of us knows: “Help me.” They are the words that spring to the lips of anyone in deep trouble and have exhausted all normal resources for help. “Help me.” That is all she has to say. And we nod in agreement that it is enough. What does Jesus answer? He flings to her harsh words, “It is not good to take the children’s bread and toss it to dogs.” It is as though some malevolent person broke into our Bibles in the cover of the night and sought to tarnish the reputation of our Lord.

     The woman is not defeated by His words. She does not shrivel-up in embarrassment and hurt and retreat. Quick as a flash she matches His rebuke with her own sharp barb, “Yes, Lord. But even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall off their masters’ table.” In one singular comment the woman does two things: she acknowledges that Jesus is also her Lord and Master and that, if she be nothing more than a dog in Jesus’ eyes even dogs receive something. As the wonderful preacher, David H. C. Reed once commented, the woman has more than faith. She has wit. Jesus has met His match.

     Jesus surrenders, “Woman, you have great faith. It will be just as you wish.” Ah, here is the Lord that we want! So why did Jesus initially refuse the woman? The strongest clue is found in how this Gospel ends: “Therefore, go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.” (Matthew 28:19 Common English Bible) The woman is a Canaanite. She is a non-Jew. More, the Jewish people despised the Canaanites. And they had no intention of sharing anything with them, including their God and God’s blessings. Jesus’ refusal to the woman produced what the Jews needed to hear; Jesus has not come for only the nation of Israel. Jesus has come for the world. That day, Jesus invited – by His refusal to her – a woman into the pulpit to declare God’s truth.          

Joy, 

Hebrews 12:1 (Common English Bible)

    The best treatment of failure I have ever read is Failing Forward: Turning Mistakes into Stepping Stones for Success by John Maxwell. It may be one of the most important books I have read in my twenty-seven years of ministry. I am familiar with failure. In fact, my first course of study for ministry – New Testament Greek – ended in failure. I gave considerable effort to my studies, studying late into the night several times a week and memorizing hundreds of Greek words. But with all the effort I could summon, I simply could not master the language. I did eventually pass this course requirement after working with a tutor and four years later I completed my theology degree. A glance at my academic transcript will show that I did well with my graduate studies – except for one letter grade of “F” that can never be removed.

     It is very likely that you have fallen short somewhere in your life. Failure may be one of the most shared experiences that bind us together. Celebrities on the screen and the stage, larger than life athletes and political leaders speak to the common experience of failure. Watch any Olympic Games and every success by one athlete is tempered with the devastating failure of another. Abraham Lincoln lost nearly every political race he entered until he won the presidency of the United States. There seems to be no shortage of failure.

     What are we to do with failure? According to John Maxwell, the difference between average people and those who achieve great success is their perception of and response to failure. Either we are utterly defeated by failure or we gather the pieces of our disappointment and look carefully at them to learn how to move forward. I have found Maxwell’s advice to sustain me through many professional and personal challenges and disappointments.

     The Apostle Paul also has a word for failure – stay in the race! Life is strenuous and the course laid-out before us can be difficult. Most of us will fall down. Yet, Paul inspires every one of us to get back in the race by pointing to those who have gone before us, have completed the course and now cheer us on. The “great cloud of witnesses” Paul speaks of are more than people who can give applause, they are people who offer their own lives as evidence that the course can be completed. Their lives serve as a template for how to prepare for the race, how to spiritually care for ourselves and maintain strength during the race and inspiration to complete the journey well. Failure may be a common experience but our response to failure can be an uncommon determination to join those who have gone before us.

Joy,

Ephesians 6:14 (Common English Bible)

Joy,

John 14:9 (common English Bible)

     Philip asks Jesus for a glimpse of God. We are not told why Philip wants to see God but we can certainly imagine. There is present in Philip’s day, as in our day, difficulties, pain and brokenness that challenge the notion of a loving God. Philip’s mood ceases to be his alone and becomes ours. If we could only catch a glimpse of God then, perhaps, we may have some clarity about why the world is in such a state. We want to know something about God – to be assured that we have not been left alone in a world that daily seems to be coming apart.

     Perhaps our difficulty arises from the fact that we have never ceased to create God in our own image. Each of us has certain notions of how God should be God. We fashion in our minds the ideal image of God – how God behaves and works – and expect God to conform. When God fails our expectations, we question God’s goodness or God’s existence at all.

     This makes us no different than the folks who celebrated Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem with palm branches. Palm branches were used by the Romans as symbols of victory in warfare and athletics. The palm branches that were placed before Jesus as He rode into Jerusalem may well have demonstrated the people’s expectation that Jesus would overthrow the Roman government. He did not. And when God fails our expectations, we become not only disappointed, we become angry. There exist little wonder why only days later the people now celebrated Jesus’ crucifixion.

     What appears to distress Jesus most was that Philip failed to see God’s character and purposes as it is embodied in Jesus’ own life. Philip has been given more than a glimpse of God. He has experienced the character of God through daily contact with Jesus. Many today become impatient, as Philip seems to have done, because they fail to grasp that in Jesus Christ God discloses Himself. “Don’t you know Me, Philip, even after I have been with you all this time?”

     Perhaps what is necessary for us today is that we spend less time fashioning the God we would like to have and more time in the Bible learning of the God we get. That God is discovered in the person of Jesus. It shall then be that we see God more and more through homes and people and friendships that pay attention to Jesus and seek to live in Jesus-like ways.

Matthew 10:19 (Common English Bible)

     Jesus is here speaking to fishermen who live a quiet, inconspicuous life along the Sea of Galilee. They work hard and keep their head low. Political tensions may swirl around them but they don’t engage. They prefer to remain out of any conversation that stirs discontent. Imagine, then, the panic that must have come when Jesus begins speaking to them about when they will be handed-over to the authorities. In our day, the best of us go limp and weak at the mere suggestion that we may be required to appear in court. Now, Jesus speaks to these humble, hard working men that they will appear before kings and governors to answer for their new found journey of faith. It will be no easy experience!

     Mingled with awkwardness and the grip of fear stirs the inevitable question, “What shall we say in court?” Anxiety becomes worry. Worry becomes mental and spiritual disorder and eventual paralysis. The disciples now contemplate an emergency; what Jesus speaks of as inevitable. A crisis now looms on the horizon for men who had once hoped to remain invisible to the world. They must now prepare to speak on a very visible platform.

     Our own life may be one that is moving along a level, regular road without any visible road hazards. Suddenly the character of the road changes and we are confronted with some great or unusual task. An unexpected illness presses for immediate lifestyle changes or financial circumstances become significantly more challenging. Anxiety moves into our homes. What shall we do?

     The first step in all wise preparations for emergencies, suggests Jesus, is to cultivate the strength of stillness. “Don’t worry,” Jesus tells the disciples. Worry always signifies the absence of stillness, the calmness of spirit which is the very heart of strength. If we are to obtain the strength of stillness we must practice the art of noticing God in the present moment. Jesus promises the disciples that words will be given to them. What Jesus is reminding them is that God is present and aware of the challenge that has been placed before them. God will not leave them empty. As we increase our capacity for stillness so does our capacity to notice God’s presence. That is the best preparation for any of life’s unexpected surprises.

Joy,

watch out for what is better for others.”

Philippians 2:4 (Common English Bible)

     Here is a warning against the perils of self-centeredness. These few words are an invitation to creative imagination – to look at life through the windows of another. Those of one political party would do well to consider the perspective of another, the conservative follower of Christ would experience treasure in an exploration of the faith of a liberal and vice versa. The Apostle Paul calls the faith community to place aside the microscope that provide close inspection of self and learn the use of the telescope for the discovery and observation of others. In the exercise of a wider vision, new insights and discoveries of our common humanity will present themselves in the eye and heart. It is then that we begin to realize the immensely complex and varied life in which we share. Simple ideologies betray the richness of the human capacity to imagine bold experiments in how we might live together.

     Paul’s words have a particular freshness and relevance in the Christian Church today. Fellowships of Christians are separated from one another by barriers and divisions. With no windows opening out into wider fellowship, producing expanded understandings, faith can only supply a stunted spirituality. Each fellowship has a particular treasure and a peculiar defect. The strength of the one Christian Church in the world – the church catholic – is the shared treasure of each unique fellowship holding solidarity with one another. In the shared fellowship and common witness to the Lordship of Jesus each peculiar defect is walled-in and limited. The promise of such fellowship is a richly textured, full-bodied maturity in Christ.

     The wonderful preacher, J. H. Jowett once shared that no one can lift his own powers out of comparative babyhood by the strength of their own original resources. As plants are raised into strength, and symmetry, and beauty by surrounding them on every side with the fellowship of sky, cloud and nutrient-rich soil so our faith experiences strength and beauty by communion on every side with the views and perspectives that differ from our own. We are called then, suggests Jowett, to the ministry of imagination – to humility in our own understandings and openness to the reason of others.

Portion of Matthew 11:29 (Common English Bible)

     I never imagined that I would have the opportunity to travel to the Holy Land. Colleagues in ministry have spoken of how this holy pilgrimage changed their life in deeply profound ways. I accepted their words as sincere. Yet, I had no capacity to understand. Such a trip seemed out of reach for me. Now, through the gracious and generous gift of one family in this congregation, my wife, Grace, and I have returned from Israel. In the span of eight days we followed the way of our Lord along the shore of Galilee, the Mount of Beatitudes, entered the gates of Old Jerusalem and walked the Via Dolorosa – the path taken by Jesus with a cross on His back. The impact of that experience is still emerging. I anticipate it will continue to present surprises – in thought and emotion – for some time.

     There are two impressions, in particular, that have pressed against my heart from this sacred pilgrimage: the sense of memory that remains in locations known to our Lord, and the recognition that the Lord has moved on. Both bear the capacity to impress a deeper reflection upon personal discipleship; the personal quest to acquire the Lord’s thought, to carry on the Lord’s spirit, to participate in the Lord’s vision of a new world and to embody that vision in our own lives. The abundant wealth of such a robust discipleship requires attention to three words of our Lord, “Learn from Me.”

     Today, people of many different nations make the journey to Israel for just this purpose, to learn more of Jesus. Though motives for the journey may be expressed differently, all come because of a basic curiosity. And curiosity is always the pursuit of information, of deeper understanding.  They have come to learn of Jesus, to learn from Him. Someone once remarked that the secret of learning is to ask much, to remember much and to teach much. This provides a helpful pathway for our own discipleship. It is a fruitful approach to successful learning in the school of Jesus.  

     Each disciple of Jesus must devise their own curriculum to learn from Jesus. But let no one assume that they are alone in the labor of learning. Standing in a footprint of Jesus along the shore of Galilee or walking along the way of the cross may stir remembrances of our Lord and inspire the heart to know more of Him but none of us are alone in this labor to be students of Jesus. The absence of Jesus embodied in flesh in each sacred location reminds us that He has now come in spirit as a great helper in the sacred work of discipleship. That, perhaps, is one of the glories of the ministry Jesus Christ. While we seek to learn of Jesus, He is at work within us in a manner that the beauty of the Lord grows upon our vision.

Psalms 46:10 (New Revised Standard Version)

     We have difficulty with stillness. Even spiritual pilgrimages tend to be planned in a manner that maximizes every opportunity in a brief period of time. The tireless pursuit of sacred locations can result in missing the sacred One who gives meaning to the locations we gather. Rest is regarded as indolence and relaxation as waste – waste of opportunity and waste of resources. The unfortunate result is the dawn of the season of mental exhaustion that stretches a long shadow as a bitter winter. The result is the same, little evidence of life. Movement from one place to another is marked by unhealthy speed and weariness. And the peril is that we do not realize the intensity when we are in it.

     When we are in the midst of a large city we do not realize how noisy the engine that drives it has been until we withdraw to a place outside of the city. We are not conscious of the roar and haste of life until we turn aside into a place of calm and quiet. The large number of people of the city, the flurry of activity and the roar and haste of life acts upon us like an opiate; draws our whole being, mind and body, into the relentless energy of the city until we are unconscious that we are distracted. This is the mesmeric influence in which some spiritual pilgrims move. The outside activity becomes obtrusive and the inside of things – the things of the heart and soul – become dim. The danger is that we miss the One we seek; we miss God.

     Perhaps that is why God speaks so clearly here, “Be still, and know that I am God!” The garden of our soul must be cared for, as the gardens of our homes, if beauty is to be found. The beauty of God is not found in the haste to gather every sacred place. The beauty of God is found in stillness. It is a beauty that stretches in large and broad fullness, embracing our whole being. It is a beauty that fills the ancient and sacred places with new life.

      The purpose of any spiritual pilgrimage is to connect with the sacred. Yet, unless the movement and gathering and experiencing all that each sacred location has to offer is brought under the discipline of rest, stillness and reflection all that will be found is evidence of spiritual energy that once was. God’s desire is that the eyes not see only what was once present in these locations. God desires that in stillness and quiet meditation we see clearly and strongly the very presence of life in the present moment. With careful planning and considerable haste we may gather a large treasury of sacred places on our spiritual pilgrimage. But here in this text, the Psalmist calls upon the soul to contemplate the manifold glory of God. That requires that we be still.

Joy,