Palm Sunday & Holy Week

Ephesians 4:1-6 (New Revised Standard Version)
I, therefore, the prisoner in the Lord, beg you to lead a life worthy of the calling to which you have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love, making every effort to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace. There is one body and one Spirit, just as you were called to the one hope of your calling, one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all, who is above all and through all and in all.

Have you ever thought of yourself as called? You, reading this right now, sipping your coffee, waking up or taking a break from your busy day: called. Really! No kidding. You!

“Call” appears three times in that first verse above from Paul’s letter to the church in Ephesus. What we translate as “I beg” is parakaleó, to call someone to your side. Then the noun klesis: a calling, an invitation. And ending with the root verb, kaleó, to call, to urgently invite, with an implied change in relationship between the one doing the calling and the one being called.

I therefore, the prisoner in the Lord,
call you to my side to lead a life worthy of the
calling to which you have been called.

Okay, we get it, Paul, we’re called. But what does it mean to be called?

Yesterday was Palm Sunday. In churches across the globe, people remembered the triumphant procession of Jesus and his disciples into Jerusalem. In my church, we read the account in Mark’s gospel, chapter 11:

Palm SundayMany people spread their cloaks on the road, and others spread leafy branches that they had cut in the fields. Then those who went ahead and those who followed were shouting, “Hosanna! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord! Blessed is the coming kingdom of our ancestor David! Hosanna in the highest heaven!”

Throughout his ministry, Jesus was heading to this week, to this Holy Week in Jerusalem. Palm branches waving high, or laid on the dusty road underneath the feet of the donkey on which Jesus road. People shouting “Hosanna! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord!” Jesus’ followers, his disciples, believed that he was entering the royal city of Jerusalem to take back the kingdom of Israel. This was the true king they were celebrating on that road!

But Jesus knew what laid ahead for him. He had repeatedly warned his disciples that he would not receive a warm welcome from the authorities in the city. Quite the opposite. The disciples didn’t hear, or at least didn’t understand.

On that Palm Sunday, as they entered into David’s Holy City, Jesus knew that the only crown he would receive was a crown of thorns. The only robes he would be given would given as a joke. He would not be raised up on a throne, but on a cross. Instead of laying his body down on a comfortable, warm bed in a palace, his cooling corpse would be placed in a borrowed tomb.

Because Jesus had provoked the ire of the governmental and religious rulers. He had threatened their way of life, their power, their influence. He had minced no words, convicting them on the basis of their own scriptures, cutting right to the heart of their sickness and rebellion.

He had taught the people who came to see him. He showed them love instead of law, grace instead of guilt, forgiveness and freedom instead of fear. He healed those who had been cast out and neglected by the authorities. He ate with those considered to be outside the acceptable. He raised up women, and Samaritans, and lepers, and tax collectors.

What Jesus did, what he said, was a powerful indictment of the world as he found it.

But it was also a powerful statement of hope for those who had ears to hear it.

Our reading from Ephesians continues: “I beg you to lead a life worthy of the calling to which you have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love, making every effort to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace.”

Does that sound like the world we’re living in right now?
Humility. Gentleness. Patience. Love. Peace.

Or does this sound more familiar:
Egoism. Cruelty. Intolerance. Hatred. Conflict.

I have to admit that over the past few weeks, I’ve been tuning out the news. I know it’s important to be aware of what is happening in the world, so I’ll be jumping back in, but it had become just too painful to watch.

Because nastiness and spite seem to be today’s ticket to popularity.

Screaming at each other, saying terrible things about each other, throwing abuse and punches and bullets seem to be the acceptable way of solving disagreements.

Kindness is mocked as weakness.
Self-sacrifice is mocked as gullibility.
Compassion is mocked as naiveté.
Concern for the oppressed is mocked as ignorance of reality.

Increasingly, just being courteous and civil is a bold political statement. So how much more powerful a statement it is to do what Jesus did! Jesus, who spoke difficult words of truth to those in power. Jesus, who cared for the downtrodden. Jesus, who loved those deemed unloveable. Jesus, who reached for the outsider and proclaimed them a part of the kingdom.

I call you to my side lead a life worthy of the calling to which you have been called.

This Holy Week, Jesus calls us alongside him. Our passage from Ephesians ends with these words: “There is one body and one Spirit, just as you were called to the one hope of your calling, one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all, who is above all and through all and in all.”

“…you were called to the one hope of your calling.” That word for “hope” — elpis — another of my favorite Greek words. It does not have the kind of anemic flavor we often attach in English to hope, as in “Gosh, I sure do hope that my team wins the tournament.”

Elpis means confident expectation of what is sure, of what is certain.

We’re lucky. We live in a post-Easter world. We know that the events of Holy Week aren’t the end of the story. The confusion, the betrayal, the pain, the death — all these are not the concluding moments of the promise found in Jesus. Because Easter is coming!

If you want to know where the real power is — power that can change lives — including your own… here it is! Live your life in sure, confident, hope-filled expectation that God had called you to something that matters, that is worthwhile, that is real!

Live your life in a way that is worthy of the amazing calling to which you have been called.

Live boldly.
Be humble.
Be gentle.
Be patient.
And, above all, be loving.

Posted in Lent, Pondering Scripture | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Remember

Exodus

Exodus 12:24-26 (New Living Translation)
Remember, these instructions are a permanent law that you and your descendants must observe forever. When you enter the land the Lord has promised to give you, you will continue to observe this ceremony. Then your children will ask, “What does this ceremony mean?

Merriam-Webster defines “remember” as “to bring to mind or think of again.” But the biblical understanding of “remember” is far more than an intellectual exercise of recalling past experiences. It is a way of re-living those experiences in the present, and allowing them to form and transform our lives. God wanted the Israelites to constantly remember what God had done for them in the exodus from Egypt, and, through that remembering, to rejoice that God had promised to continue to work within their lives in powerful ways.

In Luke’s gospel, we have a record of Jesus’ words to his friends on the last night they shared a meal together before Jesus was arrested:

CommunionHe took some bread and gave thanks to God for it. Then he broke it in pieces and gave it to the disciples, saying, “This is my body, which is given for you. Do this in remembrance of me.” After supper he took another cup of wine and said, “This cup is the new covenant between God and his people—an agreement confirmed with my blood, which is poured out as a sacrifice for you.”

We repeat these words whenever we come together to celebrate Communion in church. During Communion, we “remember” Jesus and that “Last Supper” with the disciples. We recall the things that took place in the hours following that meal: Jesus’ arrest, trial, torture, crucifixion, and death. We celebrate the sacrifice he made for us and the resurrection that gave us hope that death was not the end of the story.

But… if taking Communion is for us nothing more than a memorial of past actions and events, we would be missing the power of that remembering. Because we also rejoice that God is present with us right now, and that what Jesus did long ago has a direct effect on our lives today. We celebrate that God has promised to love, guide, and care for us, and that, through Jesus, our future is bright and full of hope!

Questions:
What do you think of this active remembrance that God desires for us? What actions can you take to “remember” what God has done in your life? How can God’s past actions transform your current situation?

Posted in Pondering Scripture | Tagged , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Who… me?

Exodus

Exodus 4:10-13 (English Standard Version)
Moses said to the Lord, “Oh, my Lord, I am not eloquent, either in the past or since you have spoken to your servant, but I am slow of speech and of tongue.” Then the Lord said to him, “Who has made man’s mouth? Who makes him mute, or deaf, or seeing, or blind? Is it not I, the Lord? Now therefore go, and I will be with your mouth and teach you what you shall speak.” But he said, “Oh, my Lord, please send someone else.”

“Oh, my Lord, please send someone else.”

Can you blame Moses for asking this of God? Moses has managed to create a good life out in the fields of Midian. He has a wife and a child. He has a job caring for his father-in-law’s animals. Everything seemed just fine and under control.

Then God suddenly appears, speaking out of a burning bush, telling Moses to leave it all behind, to go back to Egypt, and to speak with Pharaoh.

“Oh, my Lord, please send someone else!”

How often have we said, or at least felt, those words?

Feeling called to offer a small group for people struggling with the aftermath of a divorce? Oh, my Lord, please send someone else. Visit a dying person in the hospital? Oh, my Lord, please send someone else. Confront a friend about damaging behavior you’ve observed? Oh, my Lord, please send someone else. Start a new ministry to reach out to troubled teens? Oh, my Lord, please send someone else!

Sometimes we think it would be better if God only asked us to do things that are comfortable, familiar, and easily handled with the skills we already have. But the truth is, we would probably get very bored, because we wouldn’t be challenged enough to call on God for help!

When we allow God to guide us, we can accomplish more than we could ever do under our own power, and our lives become fuller and richer and more meaningful. Moses would learn to rely on God’s direction and power. And so can we!

Question:
Have you ever felt prompted to do something, but were afraid that you would fail?

Posted in Pondering Scripture | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

Listening for God

Exodus

Exodus 3:2-4 (New International Reader’s Version)
There the angel of the Lord appeared to him from inside a burning bush. Moses saw that the bush was on fire. But it didn’t burn up. So Moses thought, “I’ll go over and see this strange sight. Why doesn’t the bush burn up?” The Lord saw that Moses had gone over to look. So God spoke to him from inside the bush. He called out, “Moses! Moses!” Moses said, “Here I am.”

The first time I heard this story — many years ago now — I wanted to have an experience like Moses: to see something as amazing as a bush that was on fire but that wasn’t consumed, and then to actually hear God’s voice. Wow! That would have been so overwhelming!

But… most folks I know (me included) have never had an experience like that. Usually God speaks to us in much more subtle ways.

Through the wise words of a friend. Through a book you’re reading. Through a moment of inspiration during a time of prayer. Through scripture you’ve read before, but that suddenly seems to apply so perfectly to your current situation. Through a challenge from a trusted mentor. Through a song you hear on the radio.

There are as many different ways as there are people who are listening for God’s guidance.

1 Kings, chapter 19 records a time when God came to talk with a prophet, Elijah, who was going through a very rough time. Here’s what happens in verses 11-12: As the Lord approached, a very powerful wind tore the mountains apart. It broke up the rocks. But the Lord wasn’t in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake. But the Lord wasn’t in the earthquake. After the earthquake a fire came. But the Lord wasn’t in the fire. And after the fire there was only a gentle whisper.”

God didn’t speak to Elijah through a powerful wind, an earthquake, or a fire. God came to Elijah, not in a grand way, but in a “gentle whisper.”

God speaks to each of us in so many different ways. Some ways are big and dramatic. Others are simple and quiet. But, for all of us, this is God’s promise: “I will instruct you and teach you in the way you should go; I will counsel you and watch over you” (Psalm 32:8).

We just have to pay attention… and listen…

Questions:
How have you experienced God’s guidance in your life? How might God be leading you right now?

Posted in Pondering Scripture | Tagged , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Fear of the Future

Exodus

Exodus 1:5-10 (English Standard Version)
All the descendants of Jacob were seventy persons; Joseph was already in Egypt. Then Joseph died, and all his brothers and all that generation. But the people of Israel were fruitful and increased greatly; they multiplied and grew exceedingly strong, so that the land was filled with them. Now there arose a new king over Egypt, who did not know Joseph. And he said to his people, “Behold, the people of Israel are too many and too mighty for us. Come, let us deal shrewdly with them, lest they multiply, and, if war breaks out, they join our enemies and fight against us and escape from the land.”

As we start this exploration of Exodus, I can’t help but wonder “what if?”…

What if this new Pharaoh had reached out to the people who were so numerous and strong, and worked with them instead of against them? What if he had trained the people of Israel along with his own soldiers, so that they would come to know and trust each other in the event of war? What if, instead of making them slaves, he had made them part of the community? What if he had faced his fear instead of giving in to it?

And yet… that is not what happened. This Pharaoh surrendered to his nightmares, and allowed them to guide his life.

Healthy fear can help us to recognize places in our lives that aren’t aligned with God’s will, and can give us the courage and motivation we need to make lasting changes. But unhealthy fear can steal our freedom and lead us to make increasingly damaging decisions for ourselves and for those around us.

The apostle Paul wrote this in a letter to a young man named Timothy: “For God has not given us a spirit of fear and timidity, but of power, love, and self-discipline” (1 Timothy 1:7, New Living Translation).

That was, no doubt, a reassuring promise for Timothy to read from his mentor, and it is meant to be encouraging for us, as well. God does not want us to be filled with fear. God does not want us to be overwhelmed with anxiety. What God does want for us is to be filled with God’s power, and to be overflowing with God’s love.

Questions:
What is it that you are afraid of right now? How could that fear influence your actions in negative ways? How can you begin to address fear, worry, and anxiety in your life?

Posted in Pondering Scripture | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Work in Progress

Now is the accepted time to make
your regular annual good resolutions.
Next week you can begin paving hell with them as usual.
— Mark Twain, January 1863

As I write this, the Christmas Eve celebrations are a mere week in the past, and the New Year is just hours in the future. It’s lunch time, and, instead of working on my dissertation, I was thinking about my New Year’s Resolutions, and whether I would actually make it through February on them in 2016.

Because 2015 didn’t go so well.

Resolution #1: Exercise 3x each week
We have a gym in our building, which I used 3x … in calendar year 2015.

Resolution #2: Take more time off
Yeah, ummmm… not so much.

Resolution #3: Eat more vegetables
Major, abysmal fail. Today’s lunch consists of a Starbucks venti no-water hot chai latte (whole milk) & a double chocolate chunk brownie.

Work In Progress
What can I say? I’m a work in progress.

Actually, I think it’s pretty safe to say that we all are.

And so is our world.

In part of my sermon on Christmas Eve, I used the story from the 2nd chapter of Luke, verses 8-14:

That night there were shepherds staying in the fields nearby, guarding their flocks of sheep. Suddenly, an angel of the Lord appeared among them, and the radiance of the Lord’s glory surrounded them. They were terrified, but the angel reassured them. “Don’t be afraid!” he said. “I bring you good news that will bring great joy to all people. The Savior — yes, the Messiah, the Lord — been born today in Bethlehem, the city of David! And you will recognize him by this sign: You will find a baby wrapped snugly in strips of cloth, lying in a manger.” Suddenly, the angel was joined by a vast host of others — the armies of heaven — praising God and saying, Glory to God in highest heaven, and peace on earth to those with whom God is pleased.

So many books have been written about that moment. So many movies have been created and watched, imagining what it would look like, what would be like to be there. That “silent night” about which we sing. That world-changing moment of peace and joy and hope.

BUT…

The world didn’t magically change around Bethlehem when Jesus was born. Mary and Joseph’s world, the world of the shepherds, was still very much a work in progress.

All the problems of the world were still there. They were still living under an oppressive foreign regime, with a strong military that enforced the laws without pity or mercy. There was still poverty. There was still fear and doubt and uncertainty.

In the midst of the chaos swirling around them, these new parents looked with wonder on the tiny child cradled in a straw-lined feeding trough. Any birth is a miracle for those who witness it. One moment there is only the mother, body wracked with pain, and then, the next, a baby’s first, deep breath and a cry. We celebrate whenever a child is born. But this birth was different. Mary and Joseph knew that this baby would change everything. This child was more than just theirs — this child was born for the world.

The shepherds, those rough and earth-browned men, they came to be the first witnesses. And they were struck with awe, because this child was a fulfillment of a promise given long ago.

The prophet Isaiah wrote this words, chapter 9, verse 2: “The people who walk in darkness will see a great light. For those who live in a land of deep darkness, a light will shine.” And then verse 6: “For a child is born to us, a son is given to us. The government will rest on his shoulders. And he will be called: Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.”

The angels had proclaimed this tiny human being to be no ordinary child. This baby was fully human, yet fully divine.

He would be called Emmanuel, meaning “God with us.” He would be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. His name was Jesus, meaning “God saves.” A Savior, sent to us out of God’s unaltering love.

The Gospel of John, chapter 1, verse 14: “And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth.”

Jesus, born of Mary, in a humble stable in the little town of Bethlehem. The Divine became a tiny, vulnerable human being and lived among us.

This is the hope that I long to have fill my heart, soul, and mind as I move from Christmas into the New Year: for God’s love to be seen — God’s glory, God’s grace and truth and love and light — in the midst of our troubled world. Our very much a work-in-progress world.

May it be so this coming year!
Blessings to you and yours in 2016…

With love,
Sig

Posted in Advent | Tagged , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Word!

John 1:1-5, 14 (New Revised Standard Version)
In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being. What has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it… And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth.

Every once in a while, when I find myself at Home Depot or Lowe’s picking something up, I’ll take an extra moment to wander over to the lumber section. Aisles and aisles of wood cut in planks and boards and rods. Oak and pine and spruce, ash, cherry, mahogany, walnut, teak, cedar.

If I walk to the middle of those aisles, close my eyes, and inhale deeply, I’m transported through time and space to my grandfather’s workshop on the shores of the Saint Lawrence River.

Gramps&Hedy

Growing up, it was one of my favorite places in the summer, my Grampa Doc’s workshop. It smelled of freshly cut wood and there was always sawdust in the corners.

Grampa had built his own house, but that was well before my time. As I grew, I watched him build furniture, toys for the grandkids, birdhouses and cabinets. It seemed there was nothing that his strong, talented hands could not build. I loved watching him.

Eventually Grampa showed me — his squiggle-haired, persistent granddaughter — how to safely use all the tools, eventually even trusting me (while very, very, very closely supervised) to use his big Shopsmith machines.

This is the memory that I cherish, and which I wish I had a picture to show you: my grandfather’s large, still strong, age-spotted hands gently laid over mine, as together we guided the wood, and together created something new. His hands firmly, lovingly guiding mine.

The best way to learn is to first observe, then follow someone.

We learn to drive that way. You’ll see even little children pretending to drive using their little plastic toy wheels in the car. They watch and they imitate their parent’s movements. (And they’ll also imitate the language we use on I-495, so watch out!) When you were a teenager and could finally reach the pedals, you weren’t just thrown into a car and sent out on the road. You had someone who showed you how to use the controls, how to adjust the mirrors, how to check for traffic, how to safely merge onto a busy highway.

Likewise, if you wanted to learn baseball, you probably had a parent, or an older sibling, or a coach show you how to hold the baseball, how to swing your arm to throw it, and when to release it on the arc. Someone showed you how to hold the bat, where to grip it, how to swing it and make contact with the ball in the air. They guided you over and over again, until it became muscle memory.

If you learned to sing, you first watched how others held their bodies as they sang. You were taught how to read music, how to use your diaphragm and to project your voice.

Learning is not just about words on a page. It’s not just about what we understand, about what we know. It’s about far more than that.

John 1:1: “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.”

En arche en ho logos…
In the beginning was the Word…

Logos. It’s another of those wonderful, rich Greek words. Logos: word, as an expression of a thought. Logos: Divine thought put into a word we can comprehend.

In college I was an English major with a German minor. Two of the classes I took were Intro to the Bible as Literature, and Advanced German. In the Bible as Lit we started out reading the Gospel of John, with our reading for today. In Advanced German, we read Faust by Johann Goethe.

I remember being fascinated by the fact that there was a section in Faust where the main character is trying desperately to translate this word logos.

Faust starts out, “Im Anfang war das Wort!” In the beginning was the word. But he’s not happy with that translation. He feels it doesn’t convey the fullness of logos.

So he tries another translation: “Im Anfang war der Sinn.” In the beginning was the meaning, the reason, the purpose. But again, he’s not satisfied.

In the beginning was “die Kraft”: the power, the strength, the force. I have to admit, I did laugh a bit when I remembered that translation. With the new Star Wars movie coming out this weekend, wouldn’t we just love to have that be the translation of John 1:1:

“In the beginning was the Force!”

Screen Shot 2015-12-16 at 7.17.35 AM

But… No…

And this translation didn’t work for Faust either.

He ends with this: “Im Anfang war die Tat.” In the beginning was the deed, the action.

Word. Meaning. Power. Action.
Logos.

John 1:1-3: “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being.”

The Word was with God. The Word was God. In the beginning. Everything created through the logos, the divine thought expressed in a way that we can comprehend, seen in the gorgeous, complex beauty of our universe.

But it didn’t end there!

Our final verse from today’s reading: John 1:14: “And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth.”

The word (logos) became flesh and dwelt among us. Flesh — that’s sarx in Greek: physical body, human nature, from a human perspective.

This is the point that Faust missed in his struggles for one word to define logos: word, meaning, power, action. On that first Christmas morning, when Jesus was born, the Word became a part of Creation. The Word, the source of all meaning, the holder of all power, became action incarnate in this world.

That same Word came to us in Jesus, born of Mary, in a humble stable in the little town of Bethlehem. The Word became a tiny, vulnerable human being and lived among us. And we have seen his glory, his grace and truth and love and light, in the midst of our troubled world.

When we allow God’s word to teach us, when we allow Christ’s hand to firmly and lovingly guide ours, we become something more than just us. We become a part of the Word’s incarnation on earth. We become a part of the Christmas story. We become the Word which we have learned — God’s love — made flesh here in our world.

That is the message of hope we can carry to the world this Christmastime.

Posted in Advent, Pondering Scripture | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Incarnate (video)

Hello again!

Here is the video that pulls together the last three posts. And, yes, that’s my singing at the beginning. Sorry! 😉

Colossians 2:6-10 (New Revised Standard Version)
As you therefore have received Christ Jesus the Lord, continue to live your lives in him, rooted and built up in him and established in the faith, just as you were taught, abounding in thanksgiving. See to it that no one takes you captive through philosophy and empty deceit, according to human tradition, according to the elemental spirits of the universe, and not according to Christ. For in him the whole fullness of deity dwells bodily, and you have come to fullness in him, who is the head of every ruler and authority.

Posted in Advent | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment

Fullness

Advent Image Banner

Colossians 2:6-7, 9-10 (New Revised Standard Version)
As you therefore have received Christ Jesus the Lord, continue to live your lives in him, rooted and built up in him and established in the faith, just as you were taught, abounding in thanksgiving. … For in him the whole fullness of deity dwells bodily, and you have come to fullness in him, who is the head of every ruler and authority.

It’s so tempting, when times are difficult, to hunker down. To pull away from the world. To isolate and self-protect.

When we disconnect from the world, at some level we do it so that the world cannot affect us, cannot harm us. So that we can live without interference. So that we can be independent and free.

But here’s the irony: in coming to earth on that first Christmas Day, the eminently independent Creator of the universe made the decision to become overtly inter-dependent with humanity, binding God’s life with ours. God became human. And even more remarkably, became a newborn human baby, utterly dependent upon his parents for survival.

I know you’ve heard this story before. But please, hear it again. Really, really think about it for a moment. Be in awe of what it means…

The Divine set aside limitless power and glory, and became a vulnerable human being. The Divine, walking around with us, would teach, would challenge and frighten, would comfort and heal, would give of himself so fully, sacrificing himself to demonstrate the lengths and heights and depths to which God would go to show us God’s love.

For in Christ the whole fullness of deity dwells bodily.

Many years ago during Advent, my small group got together to watch the movie The Nativity Story, a retelling of the Christmas story. I’ve been thinking about one scene from near the end of the movie, when the three Wise Men come to give their gifts to the newborn Jesus. Throughout the movie, the Wise Men have provided a bit of comic relief, as they groused and bickered with each other during their travels.

But as they dismount their camels, and approach the stable with their precious gifts in hand, they are entirely serious and filled with awe. The first wise man gives his gift, saying: “Gold, for the King of kings.”

The second kneels in front of the baby, held in his mother’s arms, and says: “Frankincense, for the Priest of all priests.”

Then the third Wise Man. He looks as if he can barely stand, so overcome with emotion is he. As he shakingly lays down his gift of myrrh in front of Jesus, he almost whispers: “Myrrh, to honor thy sacrifice.”

What a bizarre thing to say at the birth celebration of a new baby:
“To honor thy sacrifice.”

But that Wise Man knew that that baby boy, born in a humble manger, came to offer his life as a perfect sacrifice, so that we could know the depth of God’s love for us.

If we could remember all of this, every moment of every day, can you imagine how joy-filled this Christmas season would be? If we could hold in front of us Jesus’ knowledge of our needs, willingness to meet those needs by giving all of himself, and his unconditional, freely given love — how could that not change everything that we do and say this Advent?

Prayer Box

Years ago, my mom gave me a tiny, wee prayer box, which I now wear it at the bottom of a long silver chain. In it, on a tiny rolled up piece of paper, there is a quote from one of my favorite authors, Henri Nouwen:

When we live in the world
with knowledge of Jesus’ love,
we cannot do other
than bring healing, reconciliation,
new life, and hope wherever we go.

May we, this Christmas season, live up to the words written so long ago to the Colossians: “For in him the whole fullness of deity dwells bodily, and you have come to fullness in him.”

For in Christ, YOU have come to fullness in God.

This Advent, may we be the love of God, incarnate in the world.

Question:
What would it look like for you to be God’s love incarnate in the world this week?

in·car·nate
/inˈkärnət, inˈkärˌnāt/
adjective: embodied in flesh; in human form
verb: to embody or represent in human form; to make concrete an idea or abstract concept; to be the living embodiment of a quality or ideal

 

Posted in Advent, Pondering Scripture | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Thankful

Advent Image Banner

Colossians 2:6-7 (New Revised Standard Version)
As you therefore have received Christ Jesus the Lord, continue to live your lives in him, rooted and built up in him and established in the faith, just as you were taught, abounding in thanksgiving.

in·car·nate
/inˈkärnət, inˈkärˌnāt/
adjective: embodied in flesh; in human form
verb: to embody or represent in human form; to make concrete an idea or abstract concept; to be the living embodiment of a quality or ideal

As we continue to think about what it would mean for us to be God’s love incarnate in the world, today we’ll briefly dig into these two verses from the letter to the Colossians. It starts out…

———————
As you therefore have received Christ Jesus the Lord…
———————

The word “have received” is paralambano in Greek. It comes from para (meaning closely alongside) and lambano (to aggressively take). Paralambano means to take ahold of something with serious intention, holding on to it tightly with both hands.

It does NOT mean passively receiving a faith tradition, simply accepting what you’ve heard.

It means taking what you’ve learned, challenging it, wrestling with it, questioning it, then claiming it and making it your own.

———————
As you therefore have received Christ Jesus the Lord,

continue to live your lives in him…
———————

I have to say that “continue to live” is kind of a milquetoast, lame translation of a really great word in Greek: peripateo. Pateo is a verb that means to walk, intensified by peri, completely around, full circle (think of the English word periphery). Peripateo means to walk all the way around, to encircle, to fully encompass.

It means to comprehensively live all of life
in deep, powerful connection with God.

In our disconnected world, it’s not surprising that we find it so easy to disconnect our spiritual lives from our regular, walking-around, getting-stuff-done lives.

But we are called to take what we have learned about God — what we have received and owned for ourselves — we are to take that and carry it around with us as we walk through our life.

If you’ve heard me preach at Aldersgate or at my former church in Fort Lauderdale (Christ Church), you’ve probably heard me say these words at the blessing:

“Now what we’ve said with our lips, let us believe in our hearts.
And what we believe in our hearts, let us practice in our lives.”

That is what we’re talking about here with peripateo. Taking your faith, and giving it legs. Taking what you believe, and walking it out into the world, where your words and actions can bring healing and hope.

———————
As you therefore have received Christ Jesus the Lord,

continue to live your lives in him,
rooted and built up in him and established in the faith…
———————

Three quick descriptors of what our faith needs in order to make it possible for us to truly live. Our faith needs: rhizoó (to cause to take root), epoikodomeo (to build upon a foundation), and bebaioó (to confirm, secure, establish).

Think about that progression: rooted, built up, secured.

If you’ve ever built a home, you know that the first thing you need to do is make sure that the foundation is solid and trustworthy. Then you build the structure, and constantly check during construction to ensure its stability.

Likewise our faith needs to be deeply rooted, nourished and strengthened through whatever means are at our disposal. But an intellectual faith, no matter how rich, is not sufficient. You need to build upon that faith, moving up and out into the world. And constantly we need to check back to make sure that what we are building in our lives and in the world are still in alignment with that original, strong foundation.

———————
As you therefore have received Christ Jesus the Lord,

continue to live your lives in him,
rooted and built up in him and established in the faith,
just as you were taught, abounding in thanksgiving.
———————

Eucharistia is one of my favorite words in the Greek language. It comes from two lovely words: eu (good) and charis (grace). Eucharistia, thankfulness, gratitude.

The “Eucharist” is one of the words we use to describe The Lord’s Supper, Holy Communion, where we gather to remember and celebrate the self-giving love of Jesus Christ.

Eucharistia. God’s good grace. God’s excellent kindness. God’s surpassing mercy. I love that this progression in verses 6 and 7 ends with eucharistia.

We are called to take the faith that we have learned and made our own, out into the world as we walk through our days — rooted and growing and strong.

And we are to do this,
not out of duty or obligation,
but out of joy in what God has done for us.

Eucharistia!

And what, you might ask, has God done for us?

For that, tomorrow we’ll skip down to verses 9 and 10 of Colossians 2: “For in Christ the whole fullness of deity dwells bodily, and you have come to fullness in him, who is the head of every ruler and authority.”

 

Posted in Advent, Pondering Scripture | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment