When the "I" is Silent

As a part of my Lenten discipline this year, I have been attempting to be more focused on spiritual reading. Along with this, I have also recognized a need within myself to better understand and explore the Old Testament. The need to strengthen these two disciplines in my life have led me to Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, Chief Rabbi of the British Commonwealth, who is writing a series of spiritual commentaries/devotionals on the parashat hashavua - the weekly portion of Torah (Old Testament) that is normally read at synagogue. The parasha readings are basically like the Lectionary in the Christian Church, which divide the bible into weekly or daily readings. Rabbi Sacks writes four 'articles' on each parasha reading, as they are usually about 3-4 chapters in length anyway. Drawing from rabbinical sources and Talmudic sources, with which most Christian authors I've read are unfamiliar, Rabbi Sacks engages the Torah in a dialogue that opens up the world of the Old Testament to me in ways I, myself, have never known.

This week's parasha is from Gen. 28:10-32:3, the story of Jacob when he leaves home, fleeing his brother Esau, from whom he stole his father's birthright. Jacob camped at Bethel, and that night had a dream. He saw a stairway or a ladder reaching from the heavens down to the earth, and angels were ascending and descending upon it.

When Jacob woke later, he said to himself, "Surely the Lord is in this place, and I, I knew it not." Rabbi Sacks points out that there is a repetition of the word "I" in this statement, which appears to be superfluous. But the extra "I" is not superfluous; it is, in fact, important. He writes "we sense the "Thou" of the Divine Presence when we move beyond the "I" of egocentricity." When we are centered on ourselves, we lose sight of the world around us; we begin to lose the ability to recognize God when we see only ourselves, when the "I" gets in the way.

Rabbi Sacks points out that the medicine for this is prayer. Lehitpalel is the Hebrew verb, meaning "to pray." It "is reflexive, implying an action done to oneself. Literally, it means 'to judge oneself. It means to escape from the prison of the self and see the world, including ourselves, from the outside." Prayer is how we set aside the "I" for a time and become aware of the reality that is God - above us, around us, within us, beyond us. And when the "I" is silent, when we pray, our lives begin to change. Prayer changes us.

I remember reading Walter Wangerin and Richard Foster years ago, both of whom emphasized this as well. Prayer has the effect of changing us because it removes the "I," and focuses on "Thou," the Divine Presence of God. Rabbi Sacks says that it is in that moment that we can say, with Jacob, "I know not the I. I know only God."

Matthew 6.24-34

It seems like I’ve been saying to you a lot lately, “This is a difficult passage.” But as I read today’s gospel lesson, it is a difficult passage. Really though, all of the Sermon on the Mount is more than a little challenging to us. Today’s lesson, though, is a bit different than the last few Sunday’s about following the Law. Today’s lesson is about trust.

Jesus says, “No one can serve two masters; for a slave will either hate the one and love the other, or be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and wealth.”

Well, you may have heard this passage differently before, as the Greek word that is translated here as wealth is mammon. Mammon does not exclusively refer to wealth, but is a derivation of a Hebrew word that comes from Aramaic...to make things simple. And if my Hebrew is bad, my Aramaic is even worse, but thankfully I went to seminary that taught us how to use certain tools, and, well basically I cheated. The word is used for anything of value: property, slaves, earthly goods.

That’s about as far as the translation goes. Other things in Greek that I look up, have pages and pages and pages about just one word. Mammon has one and a half. But it says a lot.

Where do we put our trust? What do we hold on to in life for security? Jesus says don’t worry about what you will eat, drink, or wear. Really? Does he not understand that “Western economies depend on massive spending on commodities people do not need?” Does he not know that our large and growing industry of mood-altering drugs is based on our inability to not worry? And I’m not just talking about illegal drugs. More people now than ever before in history are being medicated for one psychiatric condition or another. The problem is getting worse, not better.

And Jesus says don’t worry. Aren’t some things worth worrying about, though? Like starving, homeless refugees in war-torn parts of the world. They are innocent, and many of them were driven away from their homes because they are Christians. Shouldn’t we worry about them, even just a little bit? Shouldn’t we worry for them?

I give thanks to God every time I sit down to a meal, because there really are those who won’t get to eat today, or tomorrow, and did not eat yesterday. Did you know that, after a while, you actually stop feeling hungry?

Now, when Jesus was tempted in the wilderness, he fasted forty days, and so the Devil tempted him with food, but Jesus refused to break his fast, saying that we do not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of the Lord. And because Jesus said that, this passage in the Sermon on the Mount has often been spiritualized to show Jesus saying that we shouldn’t worry about our next meal, but instead we should worry about our spiritual well-being.

I disagree with that interpretation of the text, I think it completely robs the text of its intended meaning, but so often it is easier to avoid what Jesus actually says in favor of what we want him to say. Jesus said do not worry. He didn’t say don’t worry only about physical things so that we can focus on spiritual things, he simply said, do not worry. And that is hard to do.

In 2000, I went to East Africa with a group of college students on a short-term mission tour. Among many things, we visited the slums. Now, before I get too far into it, I have to point out that Africa is not like what they show on those sponsorship commercials on TV, where everyone is starving and naked and lying in the street. The standard of living is simply different, people can live well on very little, unlike America.

But after visiting that slum, I would venture to guess that some of those commercials are filmed right there. Starvation literally looked me in the face, through the eyes of little children, whom we were told had probably either not eaten in two or three days, or ate the crumbs that their parents gave to them, which meant of course that their parents went hungry.

It didn’t take us long to distribute every scrap of food that we had with us to those children, and what happened next utterly shook me. They didn’t expect more, they didn’t fight over what we gave them. They didn’t give us any looks of why-don’t-you-do-more-for-us-you-fat-white-American (and believe me, in that place, I probably would have been considered more than well-fed).

They praised God. They sang to the Lord and thanked the Almighty for what He had given them. It was a snack. I probably eat five times that much for dinner, but I doubt that many of these kids had ever held that much food in their hands at one time.

We do not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of the Lord. The world today produces enough food to feed the entire world today. Did you know that? The United States gives more money to missionary-type organizations than any other country in the world, but considering that we are still one of the largest and most economically stable countries in the world, our giving is dead last compared to others.

So after all is said and done here, I now have to tell you that I don’t have an answer to the question that is on my mind from this passage, and probably on each of your minds as well. How in the world are we to stop worrying? It’s hard enough to stop worrying about ourselves, but when we look at the state this world is in, it’s almost enough to make me sit down and cry.
It’s almost enough to make me want to do something about it. What did worrying ever bring us, what did it ever get us? More worries. Fear. Depression.

But the opposite of worrying is trust. Trust in God. Seek ye first the Kingdom of God, and all these things: food, drink, clothing, life, will be given to you as well. They will also be given to others, because that is what God wants for us in His Kingdom.

Food and drink, clothing, life. That covers just about everything that we have that we worry about, around here, isn’t it? I think that this message might need to be a little bit different for the people in the slums of Emanyatta, but to us it is just that. Trust in God, not in material gain. Life is more than food, and the body is more than clothing.

Living a life of worry means living a life of fear, as it is fear that fuels worry. Where there is fear there is little room for trust and hope, which is what Jesus offers us. So what I have learned from my time with the people of East Africa is that I need to constantly remind myself and challenge myself to let go of my fears, and to focus on what is positive, what is of God and give thanks. That is probably the biggest difference that I saw between them and us. They gave thanks, we ask for more.

I cannot alleviate the sufferings of the world, I cannot alleviate all of your sufferings or even my own, but that’s life. What I can do is live that life in witness to God’s Way. I can be changed by it, I can be the change that I want to see in others. And while it may not be so easy to stop worrying, especially when we are so good at it, we can practice. Amen.

Tae Kwon Do Philosophy

I came across this neat little article on martial arts philosophy today on the Tae Kwon Do Network (http://www.taekwondo-network.com). Thought I would post it in celebration of passing my belt test last night.

Tae kwon do philosophy can be described as an idealistic and physical means of becoming one with the universe through the study of martial art.

Living fully and in harmony with ones surroundings through the perfection of the art is living on the path or do.

In its grandest sense, practice of Tae kwon do is to seek transcendence and thereby happiness.

Many seek happiness by practicing a healthy life style. Having good eating habits, using meditation techniques and more. All come together to shape a fuller, more meaningful and happier life.

Men, women and children alike, are greatly intrigued by the martial arts. Whether seen in the movies, television or storefront window of a school, there is something unique about the art that draws you in.

Those few individuals who decide to study martial arts specifically to learn how to fight, ignoring the other aspects of its nature, are missing the true meaning of tae kwon do.Tae kwon do philosophy tells us that training in the way (do) is truly a way of life.

You may ask, “How does learning to kick, punch and yell while I break a piece of wood become a way of life?”

To see only kicking, punching and yelling is to not look at the underlying purpose of the martial arts.

The study of tae kwon do requires intense physical and mental training. Through this training we begin to unify all the aspects of life, physical-mental-emotional-spiritual, that make us human.

The individual who is new to the martial arts or tae kwon do in particular is thinking,

“I just wanted to learn some self-defense moves. I didn’t know taekwondo was so involved.”

Or maybe they were just looking to get into shape, to be strong and healthy.

I would tell them, these are admirable, wonderful goals that should definitely be pursued.

In tae kwon do training, we strive for inner peace.

One means to the peace that I have been taught is called pyung sang shim which translates as an always peaceful mind.

The philosophy behind pyung sang shim however, far exceeds its simple translation.

If you are living with an always peaceful mind you have achieved a higher level of being. It can take years to reach this balance.

You can see how much there is to appreciate around you.

We must actively show appreciation for the things we already have. Most people are surrounded by blessings they may not even see.

The greater our status becomes, the more thankful and humble we should be to truly appreciate what we have.

Pyung sang shim allows you to be ready to help others who could benefit from your experience. The more we have to give to others, the more we will receive in return.

You take care of your body and treat it well.

To be able to give to others, you have to first love yourself and that includes taking care of your body by eating well, resting, exercising and relieving stress.

When you can live with an always peaceful mind, you will find great happiness.

World's Tallest Abuse of Jesus' Name for Tourism

This is not an icon, it is not a devotional or spiritual exercise, as misguided as that would be. It is a $1.5 million waste of money!!

I saw this on Yahoo news a while back and have been meaning to write a post on it ever since. A statue of Jesus is all well and good, but a 167-foot tall statue is pushing things a bit too far.

A reporter in Warsaw commented that, "The project has split society in Poland, with supporters saying the statue will attract pilgrims to the city, and opponents insisting that the collosal monument has nothing to do with the teachings of Jesus Christ."

Local authorities only seem to be concerned with the amount of tourism this statue will attract. Really??? Is this what Christianity has come to? But, some will say, it could be used as an evangelistic tool. While I believe that is dubious at best, it remains a possibility, but potential evangelism will probably occur in spite of the statue, not because of it. It simply screams, "Look at what I did!!" on behalf of the community that created it. They made sure it was the biggest in the world, and the $1.5 million and 5 years that it took to build it could have been used for actual Christ-centered ministry!!

I'll get off my soapbox now.

Was It Worth It? A Sermon on Mt. 11:2-11

The scriptures say, “Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see. This is what the ancients were commended for.” Really? Just how does that work again?

Do you ever have doubts? Do you ever wonder what its all about? What’s the use? Why bother? When I was in my last year of seminary, a dear friend of mine, Tony - a dear friend of all of ours - died very suddenly from lung cancer, which had only been diagnosed four days earlier. Ironically, I found myself in Pastoral Care class that day, and the professor sat us all in a circle and sort of burst out, saying, “If I didn’t believe in the resurrection, I would just pack up my bags and go home right now.”

So much for professional detachment, I guess, but her words spoke more than what she actually intended to say. She doubted. Just like Job doubted when his life fell apart, just like we all doubt when one bad thing after another falls on top of us. Is there really a God out there watching out for me?

John the Baptist’s question was no less of a doubt than that. The same John, who cried out to the people who had come to be baptized by him in the River Jordan, “I baptize you with water, but there is one coming who is more powerful than I, whose sandals I am not worthy to carry. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. His winnowing fork is in his hand, and he will clear his threshing floor, gathering his wheat into the barn and burning up the chaff with unquenchable fire.”

I don’t know about you, but I always picture Billy Graham when I read things that John the Baptist says. John boldly preached the coming Messiah. He went out into the wilderness and did all his weird and crazy things because he knew that only a radical life would attract the attention of the people, which is what Jesus did as well.

This same John the Baptist, who reminds me of Billy Graham, is now in prison, awaiting his own execution for crimes of heresy committed against the Jewish culture. While he’s there, he manages to get a message out to Jesus, “Are you the one who was to come, or should we expect someone else?”

I stood up for you, Jesus; I took a fall for you, and now I want to know that it was all worth it. You really are the Messiah, right? This wasn’t all for nothing? I’m not going to be put to death by my enemies for nothing?

You know, I looked through my files the other day to see if I had ever preached on this passage before. As it turns out, I have not, and I think I know why. This is not an easy question to ask, or to admit to asking. To admit that we have doubts is one thing, but to bare our vulnerability to one another is extremely uncomfortable.

John was desperate. According to Israel’s understanding, the coming Messiah was supposed to be a fierce warrior who would cleanse the land and drive out the infidel Romans. Jesus didn’t seem to be doing that. In fact, it appears, upon my own reading of the gospels, that John is more evangelical than Jesus - at least in the early days.

“Are you the one who was to come, or should we expect someone else?”

What are we waiting for, this Advent, this Christmas? What are we expecting? Who do we want in Jesus Christ? And how will we react when Jesus doesn’t live up to our expectations? It’s a terrible thing when someone has to die three months before they graduate from seminary, after struggling to overcome chronic depression, after working so hard to achieve a goal that, as Tony believed, God himself called him to?

The year before I entered the seminary, another tragedy struck, which shook everyone to their core. I only met the fellow once, but he was one that everyone respected, everyone turned to and thought very highly of. One day, however, he sent his family back to Dubuque ahead of him from the church where he preached on Sundays, a couple of hours away. Later that afternoon, a ruptured gas line ignited in the basement of that house that completely blew it apart. There was almost no doubt about it - he committed suicide in that parsonage.

Doubt can lead to despair, and despair can lead us to make some powerfully unfortunate decisions. I don’t know what was going on in this person’s life, but all was not well with his soul.

I sense a little of this desperation in John’s plea to Christ: “Are you the one who was to come?” He’s at the end of his life, and he knows it. But Jesus does not answer him directly. Instead he says to John’s disciples, “Go back and report to John what you hear and see: The blind receive sight, the lame walk, those who have leprosy are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the good news is proclaimed to the poor.”

In a very gentle, positive way, Jesus is saying to him, “Take a look around you. What do you see? There are signs everywhere pointing to the work that I am doing among the people, work that give the people hope.”

Now hope is what Advent is all about. Expectation is what it is all about. But what is it that we hope for? What do we expect? If we expect Jesus to make all of our dreams come true, then we are looking to the wrong Messiah. Jesus didn’t come here to save our bank accounts, he came to save our souls.

When my friend Tony died, I wasn’t able to see him, it happened so quickly. But when I met with him before he went into the hospital, I knew that he had found what he was hoping for. Tony didn’t have to ask John the Baptist’s question, because the Messiah that he knew and loved was one who had given him hope, and courage, and love. Great miracles had happened in Tony’s life and Tony recognized them for what they were, signs of Jesus Christ.

Life gets tough sometimes, and at those times we can feel so alone, so vulnerable. But we are not alone, not ever, and Christ remains with us to strengthen us in our vulnerabilities. “My grace is sufficient for you, my power is made perfect in weakness (2 Cor. 12:9),” says the Lord.

John needed to know that he was not alone, and Jesus responded to that need with compassion and understanding, but also with truth. Sometimes we need a change of attitude, and at some of those times we need others to help us to change our attitude. But sometimes that’s all we need to be able to regain that sense of hope and expectancy that we had somehow lost ahold of.

Our lives are full of bad things, evil things happen to us everyday. But our lives are full of good things too. They are filled with the signs of the presence of God.

Jesus then turns to the crowd surrounding him and returns questions with questions. “What did you go out into the wilderness to look for? What was it about the life that you were leading that was so inadequate that it drove you out into the wilderness to look for something else? What was that something else that you were looking for? Did you find it?”

The thing about Jesus is that he is not what we expect. Jesus is not what we are looking for. Jesus is not even what we want. He is what we need. He is here for us, and he is also coming for us. Amen.

Let Us Give Thanks - Lk. 17.11-19

One of my favorite Bible commentators, William Barclay, summed up this passage with this very sobering thought:

“There is no story in all the gospels which so poignantly shows man’s ingratitude.”
Our gospel story this evening is, according to the section heading in the pew bibles, about Jesus cleansing ten men who had leprosy. But that’s not necessarily what this story is about, it simply happens to be the context in which the events of this story unfold.

One day, Jesus is traveling along the border between Galilee and Samaria. He’s on his way to Jerusalem, and according to Luke’s gospel this will be his very last trip to Jerusalem. So anyway, he’s passing by the border of Samaria, when ten men approach him. The text says that these men had leprosy, so, according to tradition, they didn’t come too near to Jesus.

The Book of Leviticus states that any person afflicted with leprosy must live alone, apart from the rest of the community of Israel. They must wear torn clothing, let their hair be unkempt, cover the lower part of their faces, and cry out to any who comes near, “UNCLEAN, UNCLEAN!” Scripture doesn’t actually state how far off they must stand, but tradition holds that if the wind is blowing from the leper’s position in the direction of healthy people, then the leper should stand at least 50 yards away, as a courtesy to the healthy people, so as to not put them at risk of becoming unclean.

Wow, could they possibly think of any more ways to alienate these people? I just don’t think they feel unwanted enough.

Now, the irony of leprosy, is that it was never actually fatal, in and of itself, and it is only contagious after close, prolonged contact. Apparently as much as 95% of people have a natural immunity to the disease. They don’t even call it leprosy any longer, its’ Hansen’s Disease.
However, in biblical times, there was no greater sign of being cast out of God’s presence than that of leprosy. In a culture that had very strict rules about ritual cleanliness as a prerequisite to come before God’s presence, lepers were, by definition, excluded. They were a stain on Israelite society, an embarrassment to God’s chosen people.

So here is Jesus, confronted with these ten men who obviously bear this despised mark of God’s disfavor upon themselves. “Jesus, Master, have pity on us!” they cry out to him. Well, that’s certainly unexpected. What will Jesus do? What should any self-respecting Jewish rabbi do in that situation? Duh!! He healed them.

“Go, show yourselves to the priests,” the text says, and as they went they were cleansed.
What a miracle that was! I can’t even begin to imagine what it would be like to be in their shoes, or sandals, or whatever it was that they wore. These are simply social outcasts, these are national outcasts. They have no part in Hebrew society. No one even considered treatment for their condition, and there are many ways to treat leprosy. They were in exile in their own land, unloved, unwanted, cursed by God...and that probably doesn’t even do justice to the way they felt about themselves. I believe that there is very little in our society today that could compare to the horrors of living with leprosy in Israel in biblical times.

But to be suddenly healed of all that, to have it taken away simply by a word of kindness. These men had obviously heard of Jesus, they must have known of his reputation for healing, or else they wouldn’t have called out to him that way. But did they know what to expect? Did they, could they, truly expect anything to happen? One of them, I think, did.

All ten of the lepers were cleansed, but only one returned. He praised God in a loud voice and threw himself at Jesus’ feet and thanked him. What a gift they had been given - yet the only one who returned to express his thanks wasn’t even a Jew.

“So often,” says William Barclay, “once a man has got what he wants, he never comes back.”
“Were not all cleansed?” asked Jesus, “Where are the other nine? Was no one found to return and give praise to God except for this foreigner?” Jews and Samaritans didn’t even like each other, but the Jews of that crowd expressed no gratitude, no joy in the unbelievably tremendous gift that they had just been handed.

You know what’s funny, I was watching a baseball game one day, and this guy hit a home run, and they showed him making the sign of the cross and looking up to heaven. Obviously he was thanking God, and I thought, Oh, isn’t that neat that they’re showing this on television. But then it kind of hit me, that if that same man had struck out instead, I wonder if he would have said, “God...” (you can figure out the rest of that on your own).

We pray to God, asking him for help when we have some need, but how often do we thank God for the everyday blessings that we enjoy? And what do you suppose happens to us, over time, when we habitually forget to thank and praise God every day for His many gifts to us.
So what are you thankful for?

There is a liturgical prayer, called the General Prayer of Thanksgiving. It’s a clever title, I know, but it is a prayer for all seasons, a prayer that encompasses all of life; it’s a prayer that should always be on our lips, and close to our hearts, so let us pray:

Almighty God, Father of all mercies, we, your unworthy servants, give you most humble and hearty thanks for all your goodness and loving kindness to us and to all people.
We bless you for our creation, preservation, and all the blessings of this life; but above all for your immeasurable love in the redemption of the world by our Lord Jesus Christ, for the means of grace, and for the hope of glory.

Give us, we pray, such a sense of all your mercies, that, with truly thankful hearts, we may show forth your praise, not only with our lips but in our lives, by giving up ourselves to your service, and by walking before you in holiness and righteousness all our days; through Jesus Christ our Lord, to whom, with you and the Holy Spirit, be all honor and glory, forever and ever. Amen.

Who is God to You?

Okay, so I haven't posted here in almost a year!!! I didn't realize it has been so long. Here is a little something I put in my church newsletter recently.


The Psalms are the prayers of the faithful from ancient Israel. They were the prayers of Jesus Christ. They proclaim joy and sorrow, despair and hope, anger and relief. The Psalms are not theological documents, they are real expressions of real human beings sharing their inner thoughts, feelings, hopes, and dreams with God our Father.

Psalm 84 says, “How lovely is your dwelling place, Lord Almighty! My soul yearns, even faints for the courts of the Lord; my heart and my flesh cry out for the living God.”

I see, all around me, people crying out for God. Not everyone realizes it, however, and some think that they are crying out against God. Several Sundays ago, some of the kids were asked, why do you believe in God? The prevalent answer to that question was, “I don’t know, because my parents told me to, I suppose.”
Hmm…reminds me of myself at that age. My father was (and still is) a pastor. My mother is quite evangelical. But neither of them could make God real to me, and neither can I, nor anyone else, make God real to you. All we can do is ask ourselves, who is God to me? When we can answer that, then we will be a bit more competent to relate Him to others.

The basic need to know God, however, is present within each of us, even if we are not yet aware of it, and so the basic, and perhaps the most effective, means of sharing the gospel with others is to simply share something about our own relationship with Him. This must happen, first and foremost, within our own homes, and can perhaps be as simple as reminding our loved ones of the many blessings that are poured down upon us each and every day, and who showers them upon us. When others see that God is personal to us, and that we thrive off of a relationship with Him, it becomes a little more conducive to developing their own personal relationship.

And do not be afraid, for even the psalmist struggled in his faith:

“I call with all my heart; answer me Lord,
And I will obey your decrees.
I cry out to you; save me
And I will keep your statutes.
I rise before dawn and cry for help;
I have put my hope in your word.
My eyes stay open through the watches of the night,
That I may meditate on your promises.
Hear my voice in accordance with your love;
Preserve my life, Lord, according to your laws.
Those who devise wicked schemes are near,
But they are far from your law.
Yet you are near, Lord,
And all your commands are true. (Ps. 119:145-151)