Jesus Didn't Save Him

From K-Love:

Jesus didn’t save him.
One criminal on his cross was hurling abuses at Jesus, “Are you not the Christ? Save yourself and us!”. Jesus didn’t save him. This criminal didn’t want salvation, but self-preservation. He wanted his life to continue as normal and the “inconvenience” of his cross was in the way.
The other criminal recognized the righteousness of Christ, and his unrighteousness. He cried out to Jesus and Jesus promised him paradise that day.
One criminal fought the cross and died. The other criminal surrendered to his cross AND the cross of Christ and lived. He was truly crucified with Christ at that moment.
“If you try to hang on to your life, you will lose it. But if you give up your life for my sake, you will save it” (Matt. 16:25).

Okay, so this is a repost, but I had to share.

The 3rd Sunday of Lent: Peter Denies Christ

This passage of the Passion Narrative in the Gospel of John is one of the most powerfully real moments of the Passion of Christ for me.  Everything else, it seems, plays almost like a novel or a movie, in which we can get swept up by the plot, but it’s kind of larger than life.  Peter’s Denial, however, changes all of that.

Now, we skipped about 5 chapters from last week to this, but when preaching a lectionary we must make sacrifices and skip around a bit.  I suppose I could try to preach the entire Passion Narrative someday, but that would probably take the better part of a year, and seems rather depressing to me.  It is, however, very much worth taking the time to read for yourselves at some point during Holy Week, beginning with John 13 and reading all the way through the end of chapter 19, with Jesus’ burial; and then you will be ready for Easter Sunday, the Resurrection of the Lord.

But anyway, we are at Jesus’ trial before the High Priest Caiaphas, and Annas.  Verse 15 tells us that Peter actually followed Jesus into the courtyard, along with only one other disciple.  The other disciple was able to enter into the court to witness Jesus’ trial, because he was known to the high priest, but Peter could not, so he remained out in the courtyard by the fire alone, without any of his friends.

I believe that his denial was a surprise, even to him.  I believe that he believed that he would stand up for Jesus, his Lord and Master, to the end, as he professed.  At the end of Chapter 13, Jesus foretells Peter’s denial, although Peter says to him, “I will lay down my life for you.  Jesus answered, will you lay down your life for me?  Truly, truly, I say to you, the rooster will not crow until you have denied me three times.”

Of course, we have the luxury of looking back through history and knowing that both Jesus and Peter were right.  History shows that Peter died as a martyr for his faith at the hands of the Roman Empire.  But Jesus’ prophecy about him came true as well.  

What is also significant to consider in this, as always in the Scriptures, is the context in which we find Peter denying his relationship to Christ.  Just hours before Peter’s denial, at the time of Jesus’ arrest in the Garden of Gethsemane, Judas led the Jewish authorities to surprise and capture Jesus.  Immediately, Peter draws his sword and launches an attack on the soldiers, but Jesus  stops him, saying to him, “Shall I not drink the cup that the Father has given me?”

Peter was a Zealot.  And while that word today simply means that someone is very active and passionate about something, in the time of Christ, the Zealots were a militant political party whose goal was to incite a military uprising to throw out the Romans.  Peter believed that Jesus was the one to finally bring about that rebellion and finally cast off the yoke of Roman rule and oppression.  Judas may also have been a member of the Zealots, and it is argued that he believed the same thing as Peter, which was the true motivation behind his betrayal of Christ, that he was forcing a confrontation between Jesus and the Jewish authorities in order to spark a revolution.

But when we are surrounded by friends, and our leaders seem to be in positions of power, we also feel strong and bold to act.  Take all that away, however, and force us into a place of vulnerability, with no friends in sight to support us, and how we will we stand the testing of our convictions?  That is what really speaks to me from this passage.

So I have to ask?  Are we going to be Peter?  Quick to speak out in defense of Christ, or quick even to spring into action when it appears that we have the upper hand, but also quick to deny the convictions of our faith when the chips are down and peer pressure is high?

Still, it was only Peter and that other disciple who remained with Jesus throughout his trial at all.  Where were the others?  After Jesus’ arrest, there is no more mention of them whatsoever until after His resurrection, when they were hiding out in an upper room of an inn, terrified that they would also be arrested and put to death.  Peter and the other disciples can be seen as the most faithful of all the disciples because they stayed with Jesus the longest.  

And maybe that is why Peter’s denial was the hardest and most remembered of all the disciples.  “I am not,” he said to the servant girl who asked if he was one of the twelve.  “I am not,” he said to the people standing around at the charcoal fire, who asked the same question.  And it is at that very moment, as Peter was denying his relationship to the Lord, that Jesus himself was denying nothing, and in fact was standing behind everything he had done and said during his ministry.  

What is this “I am not?”  I am not the holy man that you think I am, he was saying to them.  I am not so certain and secure in my convictions as to be unshakeable in my faith.  A moment of weakness reveals to us that the great Apostle Peter, to whom Jesus said, “you are Peter, and upon this rock I will build my church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it (Mt. 16:18);” this Peter is very much like all the rest of us.  

Jesus, however, knew this as well, and having loved Peter, he loved him to the end.  Later, after the resurrection, Jesus confronts Peter at another charcoal fire.  He asks him three times, “Peter, do you love me?” at which Peter becomes a bit offended, and says, “Yes, Lord.  You know that I love you.”  Jesus said to him, “Feed my sheep.”  

Jesus knows that Peter loves him, and Jesus loves Peter no less for his betrayal.  But why does Jesus choose Peter, who is broken and weak, to lead his church into the future?  I believe it is because Peter is broken and weak that Jesus chose him.  Peter’s soul is empty and ready to be filled; he is, as he says himself years later, in a letter to the Church, like a newborn infant, longing for the pure spiritual milk, that by it he may grow up into salvation.

The Psalmist says, “the sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise (51:17).”  
The story of Peter’s denial reminds us that we are a broken people, with a broken church, living in a broken world.  And while it is very Presbyterian of me to point out that obvious truth, I believe that we must always keep our brokenness before us, acknowledging the lordship of the only Physician who can heal us and make us whole.  In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

Prayer: Beginning a Lenten Journey

Throughout the last several years, I have struggled with my personal prayer life.  Not that I don't pray, but I have not structured my prayer life in such a way as to set aside time each day in order to more fully immerse myself into the school of prayer.

Prayer, when it is spontaneous and free, has a sort of continuous quality about it.  Paul said, "pray without ceasing (1 Thess. 15:17)," and I think that sums up very well the kind of spontaneous prayers that keep Christians in constant communion with God, ranging from, "God please help me," to praising God for the beauty of a sunrise that paints the morning sky on our way to work.

That kind of prayer is, I think, the first and most natural way that we learn how to pray, as Christians.  It is certainly the easiest, but there is so much more to explore, a vast treasury of prayer that unites Christians across the spectrum of time and place, prayer that Christ himself learned from, which gradually can teach us to articulate our own, more spontaneous prayers in ways that we otherwise would not be able to do.

As a pastor, I find that, when I pray "off the cuff," my prayers tend to follow a certain pattern, and I find that I often say certain things and pray in a sort of pattern.  However, by following a more structured, liturgical form of daily prayer, my own "free" prayer has begun to grow in its depth of expression so that I am learning that there is a need for both kinds of prayer: structured as well as free.

I refer to the Psalter, which is a cycle of praying through the psalms, along with other readings from Holy Scripture and devotional texts.  When I first began ordained ministry, I was blessed by a priest friend with a copy of the Liturgy of the Hours, and was instructed by him in its use.  Immediately, I saw what an amazing resource this was, whether or not one is Catholic, and but over the years, as I have explored other written prayer resources, my observance of the divine office has grown rather slim.

As Lent began, therefore, I once again committed myself to daily prayer, using the Liturgy of the Hours.  Perhaps one day I will have the discipline to pray all seven of the hours, uniting my spirit with the Psalmist, who said "Seven times a day I praise you (Ps. 119:164)."  Right now, however, I am enjoying the inspiration and satisfaction of "going to church" every morning and evening with the Liturgy of the Hours.

Coincidentally, the devotional reading for Friday was precisely for me, at this stage of my journey in Lent.  I will include it here for you:

"From a homily by Saint John Chrysostom

"Prayer and converse with God is a partnership and union with God.  As the eyes of the body are enlightened when they see light, so our spirit, when it is intent on God, is illumined by his infinite light.  I do not mean the prayer of outward observance but prayer from the heart, not confined to fixed but continuous through the day and night.

"Our spirit should be quick to reach out toward God, not only when it is engaged in meditation; at other times also, when it is carrying out its duties, caring for the needy, performing works of charity, giving generously in the service of others, our spirit should long for God and call him to mind, so that these works may be seasoned with the salt of God's love, and so make a palatable offering to the Lord of the universe.  Throughout the whole of our lives we may enjoy the benefit that comes from prayer if we devote a great deal of time to it.  

"Prayer is the light of the spirit, true knowledge of God, mediating between God and man.  The spirit, raised up to heaven by prayer, clings to God with the utmost tenderness; like a child crying tearfully for its mother, it craves the milk that God provides.  It seeks the satisfaction of its own desires, and receives gifts outweighing the whole world of nature.

"Prayer stands before God as an honored ambassador.  It gives joy to the spirit, peace to the heart.  I speak of prayer, not words.  It is the longing for God, love too deep for words, a gift not given by man but by God's grace.  The apostle Paul says: We do not know how we are to pray but the Spirit himself pleads for us with inexpressible longings.

"When the Lord gives this kind of prayer to a man, he gives him riches that cannot be taken away, heavenly food that satisfies the spirit.  One who tastes this food is set on fire with an eternal longing for the Lord: his spirit burns as in a fire of the utmost intensity.

"Practice prayer from the beginning.  Paint your house with the colors of modesty and humility.  Make it radiant with the light of justice.  Decorate it with the finest gold leaf of good deeds.  Adorn it with the walls and stones of faith and generosity.  Crown it with the pinnacle of prayer.  In this way you will make it a perfect dwelling place for the Lord.  You will be able to receive him as in a splendid palace, and through his grace you will already possess him, his image enthroned in the temple of your spirit."

We Are Made By What We Make

Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, the Chief Rabbi of the United Hebrew Congregation of the British Commonwealth, used to have regular bible study with former British Prime Minister Tony Blair.  Blair said to Sacks one day that he was reading in Exodus and had "just come to the boring bit."

Of course Rabbi Sacks had to ask him, "Which boring bit?"

"You know," he said, "the passage about the Tabernacle at the end of Exodus.  It does go on, doesn't it?"

Exodus Chapters 25-31 and 35-40 deal directly with provisions for construction of and worship elements in the Tabernacle.  The Tabernacle pre-dated the Temple in Jerusalem.  After the Hebrews left Egypt, they wandered in desert forty years, finally settling Israel.  They were, essentially, a nomadic people, and so the Tabernacle, for them, became a sort of Temple which could be moved and set up like any other tent.

Except it wasn't like any other tent.  It covered 11,250 square feet, had a courtyard, a separate tent within it which contained the Ark of the Covenant.  There were multiple altars, multiple rooms, and everything was made out of gold and bronze and acacia wood.

Rabbi Sacks pointed out to Tony Blair that the description of the building of this Tabernacle in Exodus takes up about 500 verses, whereas the creation story in Genesis only takes up 34 verses.  His point was that "it is not difficult for an omniscient, omnipotent God to create a home for humankind.  What is difficult is for finite, fallible human beings to create a home for God.  This tells us that the Bible is not man's book of God, but God's book of humanity."

In the Bible, we see God fashioning for himself a community of people who create community.

But first, he takes a group of people who were victimized and enslaved and who lament their fate that God has abandoned them.  God sets them free and leads them out of Egypt, but the people complain and grumble against God, saying that it would have been better in slavery to the Egyptians.  There's no food, they say. There's no water, they say.

So God provides for them.  Manna from heaven, water from a rock.  Meat.  Freedom.

When Moses leaves them to go up Mt. Sinai to commune directly with God, the people complain and grumble, and decide that they don't like Moses' God anymore, and they don't know what's become of him anyway, so they make a new god for themselves.  An idol, a Golden Calf.

These are a people to whom God has given and given and given.  These are a people who are too immature to come together as a unified nation.  They're only worried about themselves, their own wants and needs, and what they can get, rather than what they can give.  And so they remain a nation of slaves.  They are enslaved by their worship of the god "Me."

It's not until God gives them the instructions for building the Tabernacle, with all its complexity of design and function that a fantastic change begins to come over the people.

Rabbi Sacks says, "It is as if God had said to Moses: if you want to create a group with a sense of collective identity, get them to build something together.  It is not what happens to us, but what we do, that gives us identity and responsibility."

Through this experience, the Hebrew people truly begin to grow into the nation that is Israel.  Why?  Because they worked together.  And during that entire time while constructing the Tabernacle, there is no mention of grumbling or complaining.  When Moses asked the people to contribute to the construction, either through material gifts or by donating their skills, he actually had to restrain them from giving!!

In our reading of Holy Scripture, in our service to our churches, to the community, to our families, I think we often miss this, or at least we forget it: "The most effective way of transforming individuals into a group is by setting before them a task they can only achieve as a group."

Why are churches and volunteer fire departments and social organizations that promote volunteerism dying out in our society?  I believe it is because the concept of the group is being replaced with the idol of self.

At the moment, while I write this, a song came on the radio.  A man is singing about how we look around at the state of affairs in the world and say to God, "Why don't you do something?"  God, then, replies, "I did.  I created you."  The artist then issues us a challenge, "it's time for us to do something.  If not us, then who?"

God has given and given and given to us.  Now it is time for us to give back.

I do believe very strongly that there are some people who try to do too much in their group, and by doing so, they actually end up having very little effectiveness over all.  That is a problem in and of itself.  But there are many more who are completely content contributing so little that they end up taking more than they give to the group.

God has called us out of slavery to be a community of givers and doers and builders, not takers, and so to lead others to do the same.

"When leaders become builders, they create peace; otherwise they merely create dissent."

What are you building?

__________________
Unless otherwise indicated, all quotations are from Sacks, Jonathan. "Nation-building: Ancient Answer, Contemporary Problem," in Covenant and Conversation Exodus: the Book of Redemption. Pp. 289-295 (Maggid Books, 2010).

How can a church be the Church?

Last Sunday, in a sermon that I preached, I talked a little bit about how we grow as people and as a church.  One of the things I said was this:

"Relationships involve a growing trust which leads us to be more and more personal and vulnerable with Christ, allowing Him to gently confront us with ever deeper truths about ourselves, without judgment, from which we can grow and find new strengths.  Let us help one another to build relationships like that with Jesus Christ, and with one another, because that is the only way the Church will grow."

Today I read, from William Barclay's commentary on Galatians:

"A Christian Church cannot continue to be a Christian Church if in it there are any kind of class distinctions. The labels which men wear amongst men are irrelevant in the presence of God. In the presence of God a man is neither Jew nor Gentile, noble or base, rich or poor; he is a sinner for whom Christ died. if men shared in a common sonship they must be brothers; they have a new kinship which cuts across all earthly barriers because they are now sons of the one Father, even God."

I believe that one of the biggest problems that the Church faces today, in terms of its decline, is that the church is no longer the Church. If the Church (note the capital 'C') is to be the Body of Christ, as Paul says in 1 Corinthians 12, then it seems to me that we are missing some very important and necessary first steps toward achieving that goal. We are not a church, we are a Church, and we must be the Church by actively pursuing growth individually and by supporting and encouraging others to grow as well. We must learn to let go of our preconceived judgments about people whose differences from us make us uncomfortable, and we must learn to open our minds to new ideas and perspectives.

The church (note the lowercase 'c') has become a social club; it seems to exist today mostly to serve a consumer-driven society that is largely interested in what it can get, not what it can give.

As a newlywed, I've been learning a lot about the differences between married life and single life. As a single person for 36 years, I only really needed to be concerned about myself and my own well-being and growth. Now, as a married person, I must also consider the well-being and growth of my family. Of course, I cannot do that unless I am health first, but the interconnectedness of family dynamics means that a part of making me healthier is to contribute to their health.

Our relationships with Christ is a lot like a marriage. Christ serves us in much the same way that we serve our spouse. And we can and must serve Christ, not because he needs us to, but because we need to. By serving Him we serve ourselves.

Expanding this idea into the family dynamics of a church, we find much the same thing. We grow by helping others to grow. This is how the church becomes the Church; this is how churches grow.

Just a thought.

New Year's Resolve

“Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more…and he who was seated on the throne said, Behold, I am making all things new.” –Rev. 21:1-6

Do you ever want to just start over?  Do you ever want to put everything behind you and wipe the slate clean and begin anew?  For many of us, that is what the New Year’s celebration is all about.  Putting the old to rest and starting over.  It’s a chance to let the past stay in the past.  It’s a new year, anything can happen.  I can change, and not be bound by the mistakes of last year.

In the Christian Church, there is a tradition of holding watchnight services at certain times throughout the liturgical year, like the Advent/Christmas season, and during Holy Week.  Many churches do the same on New Year’s Eve.  It is a vigil of prayer and resolution to begin the New Year with a new dedication and commitment to growing in one’s faith. 

(I know that it would mean skipping out on those wonderful New Year’s Eve parties, but there is usually plenty of pork and sauerkraut leftover anyway!) 

The focus is on renewing the covenant with the Lord who calls us to live in the world but to not be of the world.  We can acknowledge and contemplate the past, but we can also put it away from us.  The past can educate us and shape who we will become in the New Year, but the sins of the past cannot be undone, they can only be forgiven, and the Lord forgives us who are penitent, so let us forgive others who have wronged us as well.

And so the assurance of the watchnight service, of the New Year, is the hope that is renewed for who we can grow to become as children of the Lord, followers of Jesus Christ in 2014.  It is that Christ “is with us always, even to the end of the age (Mt. 28:20).”

At any time, in any place, for whatever reason, we can begin anew, we can start over.  Because of a God who makes all things new.

Advent 4:John 1:1-18

The Gospel of Mark begins with Jesus as an adult.  “In those days, Jesus came from Nazareth of Galilee and was baptized by John in the Jordan.” In one sentence, Mark’s Gospel skips through three chapters of narrative that is told in Matthew and Luke.

Matthew and Luke both begin before Jesus was born, explaining prophecies about the coming Messiah and the announcement of the angel of the Lord to Mary, who was just a girl.  There are genealogies which describe Jesus’ heritage as a descendant of King David, and even though most of us find genealogies in Holy Scripture rather tedious and dry, they are, after all, a part of Holy Scripture, and every genealogy has its own story or stories to tell.  Each opens up a wealth of teaching from the Word of God.

John’s gospel, however, begins in the beginning.  The very beginning.  The setting is the creation event itself, and what is unique about this passage, which we call the Prologue to the Gospel of John, is that Jesus is not named here.  To name something defines it, in a way.  It categorizes it, puts it into a box with a label.  John wants us to remove that label and take Jesus out of our box and think about Him in a different way.

Jesus is the Word.  He was with God in the very beginning.  In fact, He was God.  Where Matthew, Mark, and Luke don’t get around to explaining this to their readers for several chapters, John lays it out plainly right up front.  The Word is God, and Jesus is the Word, although that is not immediately apparent, not until John the Baptist sees Jesus coming toward him and declares, “This is he of whom I said, after me comes a man who ranks before me, because he was before me (v. 30).”

This is the gospel, packaged very neatly into eighteen verses.  Perhaps John wrote it that way because he was, in truth, re-interpreting an old story.  By the time John’s Gospel was circulating, Matthew, Mark and Luke had already been around for over 20 years, and even then it was at least 20 years since Jesus’ resurrection.  

The people already knew the story, so John’s job was not to tell it to them, but to open their minds to understand the story in a new way.  He was a preacher with a congregation, not an evangelist, although evangelism is always at the very heart of the gospel.

Jesus is intimately related to all of creation, and Jesus is intimately related to all of us.  Verse 10 explains that “...the world was made through him…”

Again, we don’t get stuff like that in the other Gospels.  Jesus has always been, and without that description, without John’s Gospel, we could easily see Jesus as nothing more than God’s offspring, His creation.   But Jesus is God.  He was there in the beginning, and all of “this” came into being through Him.  This wording should sound very familiar to you in another way as well.  It is the language of pregnancy.

If Jesus were to have a child, it would be us.  

This is the first of four key purposes of Jesus, four interrelated themes about His being as the Word of God.  The Word of God is our Father.  

The second purpose of Christ, revealed in John’s Prologue, is that Jesus is, for us, the source of revelation and grace.  He is “the true light which enlightens everyone (v.9),” and He is “full of grace and truth (v. 14).”  The Word of God is our Mentor.  More than just a friend, more even than just a Father, He sees potential within us that we cannot see in ourselves, and nurtures us in it.

Jesus was intimately involved in our creation and our nurture and growth, but the world rejected Him.  Vv. 10-11 say that he was in the world, and that even though the world came into being through Him, still the world did not know him.  He came to what was his own, and his own would not accept Him.

Do you know what it feels like for your child to say to you, “I hate you?  I don’t want anything to do with you?”  Can you imagine what that might feel like?  Wouldn’t you do anything to bring him or her back to you?  Wouldn’t you give anything?  

The relationship that Jesus Christ had with his own children was broken, and lying in ruins.  They did not know Him, their own Father!  And so “the Word became flesh and dwelt among us…” writes John (v.14).  God has always been intimately connected, related to His creation.  He has always been personally involved in His children’s lives, as should every father be.

He is not up there on His throne, judging us and manipulating us for His own good pleasure.  He is here among us, as one of us.  John calls Jesus the Word of God, and what does “word” mean?  In Greek, logos literally refers to an accounting or an understanding.  In English it means “the study of” something.  Psychology, biology, theology.

But more basically than that, ‘word’ is a means of communication.  Jesus, the Word made flesh, is the communication of God to us, He is God’s means of relating to His creation.  

Which brings us to the fourth key purpose of Jesus Christ in John’s Prologue.  

“And from his fullness we have all received, grace upon grace.  For the law was given through Moses, grace and truth came through Jesus Christ (Vv. 16-17).”

Does this mean that the Law is not truth?  Does this mean that there was no grace before Christ?  No, of course not.  But a relationship with a person is very different from a relationship with a law.  The Law, the Torah as it was called, guided the people, it ruled the people and set down a standard of living in righteousness.  It is objective and impersonal.

Jesus Christ, however, is a person, and guides us in our understanding of the Law.  He demonstrates for us how we are to follow His Law.  We can know the Law, but we can connect with Christ, we can understand the Law through Him, and so learn that the journey to Heaven is not so far as we might have otherwise believed.

For Jesus to fulfill all these purposes, “he must be of God in the fullest possible sense (Karl Kuhn.  Commentary on John 1:1-18 http://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=1960, accessed 20 December 2013).”

But Jesus cannot also identify with humanity if He is not human, and so He took upon Himself not only our humanity, but all of our humanity.  Our acceptance as God’s Chosen, and our rejection as God’s Justice.  

One commentator wrote:

For John, the scandal of particularity is not just that in Jesus the Divine becomes “incarnate and dwells among us.  The scandal is also that the transcendent Word becomes so deeply enmeshed in our twisted affairs, that he is even willing to endure the humiliation and hatred embodied in the cross.  The Word...embraces this, to enlighten all those who would receive him.  He comes to his own and loses his life for them, that they too might become children of God and, like him, close to the Father’s heart (ibid.).”

As Advent draws to a close, and we welcome the Christmas season into our homes and our lives, let us praise God for what He has done for us, what He is doing within us even now, and for what He will bring to completion through Jesus Christ our Lord.  Amen.