Crowd-Sourced Exegesis: Ezekiel 36:22-38

Say to the House of Israel: This said the LORD GOD: Not for your sake will I act, O House of Israel, but for My holy name, which you have caused to be profaned among the nations to which you have come. I will sanctify My great name which has been profaned among the nations - among whom you have caused it to be profaned. And the nations shall know that I am the LORD declares the LORD GOD - when I manifest My holiness before their eyes through you. I will take you from among the nations and gather you from all the countries, and I will bring you back to your own land. I will sprinkle clean water upon you, and you shall be clean: I will cleanse you from all your uncleanness and from all your fetishes. And I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit into you: I will remove the heart of stone from your body and give you a heart of flesh; and I will put My spirit into you. This I will cause you to follow My laws and faithfully to observe My rules. Then you shall dwell in the land which I gave to your fathers, and you shall be My people and I will be your God.


And when I have delivered you from all your uncleanness, I will summon the grain and make it abundant, and I will not bring famine upon you. I will make the fruit of your trees and the crops of your fields abundant, so that you shall never again be humiliated before the nations because of famine. Then you shall recall your evil ways and your base conduct, and you shall loathe yourselves for your iniquities and your abhorrent practices. Not for your sake will I act - declares the LORD GOD - take good note! Be ashamed and humiliated because of your ways, O House of Israel!


Thus said the LORD GOD: When I have cleansed you of all your iniquities, I will people your settlements, and the ruined places shall be rebuilt; and the desolate land, after lying waste in the sight of every passerby, shall again be tilled. And men shall say, "That land, once desolate, has become like the garden of Eden; and the cities, once ruined, desolate, and ravaged, are now populated and fortified." And the nations that are left around you shall know that I the LORD have rebuilt the ravaged places and replanted the desolate land. I the LORD have spoken and will act.


Thus said the LORD GOD: Moreover, in this I will respond to the House of Israel and act for their sake: I will multiply their people like sheep. As Jerusalem is filled with sacrificial sheep during her festivals, so shall the ruined cities be filled with flocks of people. And they shall know that I am the LORD.

Wow, that's a long passage. I'd love to hear what y'all think about it! Comment below if you have reactions, they don't have to be profound or theological, they just have to be honest. Thanks so much!

Engraving

Jeremiah 31:31-37
31The time is coming, declares the LORD, when I will make a new covenant with the people of Israel and Judah. 32It won’t be like the covenant I made with their ancestors when I took them by the hand to lead them out of the land of Egypt. They broke that covenant with me even though I was their husband, declares the LORD. 33No, this is the covenant that I will make with the people of Israel after that time, declares the LORD. I will put my instructions within them and engrave them on their hearts. I will be their God, and they will be my people. 34They will no longer need to teach each other to say, “Know the LORD!” because they will all know me, from the least of them to the greatest, declares the LORD; for I will forgive their wrongdoing and never again remember their sins.
35The LORD proclaims:
The one who established the sun
to light up the day
and ordered the moon and stars
to light up the night,
who stirs up the sea
into crashing waves,
whose name is the LORD of heavenly forces:
36If the created order should vanish
from my sight,
declares the LORD,
only then would Israel’s descendants
ever stop being a nation
before me.
37The LORD proclaims:
If the heavens above could be measured
and the foundations of the earth below
could be fathomed,
only then would I reject
Israel’s descendants
for what they have done,
declares the LORD.

This is the World of the Lord
Thanks be to God

The season of Lent is walking in the wilderness, mirroring Jesus forty days of temptation, and the ancient Israelites forty years before reaching the Promised Land. The Lenten wilderness is a spiritual wasteland that has no end in sight. But the prophet Jeremiah can see farther, and points us in the direction that the LORD is taking us.

There’s a reason we read this passage in the wilderness of Lent. There’s a reason Jeremiah speaks to us as we wander through the world, in search of our savior. There’s a reason we need to hear this word in every age, in every time and place. There’s a reason we need to remember the future that has been promised.

The reason is, we’re still a people who need God grace. The reason is we don’t have it together and we can’t do it on our own. The reason is our faith is shaken from time to time, and we still need to hear the promise, because the time is coming, declares the LORD.

“The time is coming, declares the LORD, when I will make a new covenant with the people of Israel and Judah.” Judah, the people who are suffering under the heel of the armies of Babylon, Judah, who are hiding in the hills watching as their homes are destroyed, as the kingdom that was promised to them burns and is systematically ripped apart. Our Judah has been conquered and it seems like the battle is over and we’re on the side of the losers. Our neighbors have been carried off into exile. The Babylonians that are knocking at our own doors are not here to make a social call. The symbol of the promise of God has been taken away from us.

When you’re in the Judah referenced in this passage, you’re watching everything you’ve built crumble before you. Living in Jeremiah’s Judah makes the stories you used to order your life around feel like a betrayal. Because those stories no longer apply, and we’re not equipped to deal with their loss.

My generation was told that if you get a college degree, you’ll get a job, and have a secure future. My parents generation was told that if you work hard, you’ll be able to retire comfortably. My grandparents generation was told that if you provide, you’ll be provided for. And then we all watched as those stories were suddenly not true for everyone anymore. The man who built great things during his long career sees that his retirement benefits are drying up. So now he has to sell what was to be his children’s inheritance to provide for himself and his wife. The woman who worked her whole life at the furniture factory is told that the business is moving overseas and she won’t get the pension she had planned for. The summa cum laude graduate hears that she’s the next great up-and-comer in her field time and again. But those who tell her that she has potential aren’t hiring. She worries that she can’t pay off the mortgage she took out on her future with student loans. And all of them groan together for a new promise, a new covenant.

It won’t be like the covenant I made with their ancestors when I took them by the hand to lead them out of the land of Egypt. It won’t be like the covenant that required more than the people have been able to live up to. It won’t be like the covenant that instructed them “You shall love the LORD your God with all your heart, all your being, and all your strength.” It won’t be like the covenant that was to be tied on our hands, that should be written on our foreheads as a symbol. It won’t be like the covenant that our spiritual ancestors wrote on their houses’ door frames and on their cities’ gates. That covenant is broken, and we, individually and collectively, are the ones who broke it.

Broken promises to God. We live in a world glutted with broken promises to God. It seeps into every fiber of our culture, every word of our communication, and it’s all so very broken. The brokenness of our promises to God defines us, sinful from our origin. The broken covenant separates us from God. We cannot undo the break because we cannot keep the covenant. With Babylon beating on our doors to take us away, God misses us terribly, and refuses to let our break be the final word.

Jeremiah reminds us throughout this whole book that we have done this to ourselves, and we have done it to ourselves consistently. We cannot say that what has happened to us is not fair, because it’s not a matter of bad things happening to good people, it’s a matter of bad things happening to people who deserve what they get, because they have rejected God. God who wanted an intimate partnership with the people, a partnership compared in this passage to a husband. The comparison is weak, because God goes farther than any human metaphor of marriage could. When we reject and run away from God, God follows us. Our break will not be the word that defines our reality, God misses us too much for that to be all we are. So God changes the shape of reality in order to be with us.

We see how far we have fallen, we see what we have done to the world and to one another, pushing each other and ourselves away with the hope that by shoving them deeper into the muck we’ll somehow feel cleaner. So when we are about to get what we deserve for rejecting God, God speaks.

No.

No, that’s not the kind of God I am. That’s not the kind of people you will be. That’s not the kind of world I created. No that’s not the way it’s going to be. No, I will not allow you to be destroyed as a result of your own choices.

No, this is the covenant I will make with the people of Israel.

When you write something on your hand, it will wipe off. When you paint it above your doorpost, you can always paint over it. The old covenant trusted in human ability to keep it, and the human freedom to break the covenant won out instead. But this new covenant is not something we write, and it’s not something we can wash off or cover up. The new covenant is dependent solely on God’s intervention.

“I will put my Instructions within them and engrave them on their hearts. I will be their God, and they will be my people.”

I had the opportunity a few years ago to work with a stonecutter. Up until the moment when you begin the engraving process, you’re just looking at a rock. There’s nothing special about it, it’s like so many others. It’s a collection of minerals cut from a quarry. But once it’s engraved, it’s different. A blank wall becomes a monument. An empty slab becomes a gravestone. A floor tile becomes a centerpiece at a wedding banquet. The engraving takes a humble rock and provides it with a new purpose. Engraving a stone can transform the basest mineral deposits into beautiful art.

What the rock carver does to the stone, God’s covenant does to us. The instruction is internalized and engraved on our hearts. A new purpose is provided and we are no longer bound by our own brokenness but free to be restored to our relationship with God. The next verses tell us that we will no longer have to even teach each other what to say, because we’ll just know. We no longer have to remind ourselves what has been said, as with the ancient covenant, because it’s not an issue of knowing about, it’s about being who God has created us to be. God’s engraving on our hearts gives us a purpose and an identity and turns what is essentially a bag of meat and mostly water into a human being, created in the image of God.

And that time is coming, declares the LORD. Because we’re not there yet, we’re still wandering in the desolate wasteland of Lent, expecting to find a Babylonian army ready to carry us deeper into this exile of our own making. But being trapped in the desert doesn’t stop God from claiming us as God’s own. Because the second half of the passage is a creation story. God takes a moment to remind us of exactly who we’re dealing with here. We’re not dealing with some idol made of wood or brass. We’re being dealt with by “The one who established the sun to light up the day and ordered the moon and the starts to light up the night.” We are not claimed by a nationality, or a race, or a club, or a fraternity or a denomination. We are claimed by the one “who stirs up the sea into crashing waves, whose name is the LORD of heavenly forces.” This same one claims us as God’s own people.

When we run away and abandon God, and we will, God will engrave her instructions upon our hearts, giving us a purpose and an identity. Our discarded chunks of granite are engraved with and transformed into testimonies to God’s faithfulness. Because our rebellion shows God’s refusal to give up on us. God will have a relationship with us, even when we are broken and imperfect.

My mother has a saying, “God uses imperfect people because he made so few of the other kind.” We are the imperfect people whom God has choses to use. We are the body of Christ eagerly awaiting the return of our Lord. We are not our own, we belong to God, and God has missed us in our exile, and will bring us back. When we proved that we could not come back to God, God came to earth, taking the form of a slave, and was crucified for us so that we will know that God will be with us no matter what. Let us know that God has engraved our hearts with that powerful message of love. There’s a reason we read this text in the wilderness of Lent, so that when we are confronted with our sinfulness, we will be reminded that God will be with us no matter what.

Lord of heaven and earth, we feel alone and broken, and we cannot reach out to you. Comfort us with the knowledge that even though we can never reach you, you not only reach us, but refuse to let us go. Amen.

Changes

Hey folks, time to update your bookmarks. I've changed both the title and address of my blog. The "Russel(l) eats poo" moniker has served me well, but as I approach the realm of ordered ministry, I decided to frame the blog more theologically, to reflect what is increasingly becoming my reality. The new title, as you can see, is "One Short Sleep Past" and the new web address is http://wewakeeternally.blogspot.com/

The REP name was a reference to my Freshman dorm room, which had been "decorated" with a permanent marker by a previous occupant. Of the things that could have been added to a door in a Freshman Dorm, "Russel eats poo" was on the tame side. It became a kind of a battle cry for me and my roommate. However, a couple of folks have indicated that the name might be a barrier to those who might otherwise enjoy my contributions.

This is not a sanitation, but a reframing. I still enjoy slightly off-color humor and that will still pop up on this site from time to time. The new title and website are taken from John Donne's Holy Sonnet X, which I've added below.

Death be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for, thou art not so,
For, those whom thou think'st, thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poor death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be,
Much pleasure, then from thee, much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee do go,
Rest of their bones, and souls delivery.
Thou are slave to Fate, Chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell,
And poppie, or charms can make us sleep as well,
And better than thy stroke, why swell'st thou then?
One short sleep past, we wake eternally
And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt die.

This is a short post, but I'm preaching this weekend on Jeremiah 31:31-37, so a new sermon is forthcoming.

Abraham, Fear and Faith (Genesis 15 and Romans 4)

Genesis 15:1-8

1After these events, the LORD’s word came to Abram in a vision, “Don’t be afraid, Abram. I am your protector. Your reward will be very great.”

2But Abram said, “LORD God, what can you possible give me, since I have no children? The head of my household is Eliezer, a man from Damascus.” 3He continued, “Since you haven’t given me any children, the head of my household will be my heir.”

4The LORD’s word came immediately to him, “This man will not be your heir. Your heir will definitely be your very own biological child.” 5Then he brought Abram outside and said, “Look up at the sky and count the stars if you think you can count them.” The LORD continued, “This is how many children you will have.” 6Abram had faith in the LORD, and it was credited to him as righteousness.

7The LORD said to Abram, “I am the LORD, who brought you out of Ur of the Chaldeans to give you this land as your possession.” 8But Abram said, “LORD God, how do I know that I will actually possess it?”

This is the Word of the Lord

Thanks be to God

Romans 4:13-25

13The promise to Abraham and to his descendants, that he would inherit the world, didn’t come through the law but through the righteousness that comes from faith. 14If they inherit because of the Law, the faith has no effect and the promise has been cancelled. 15The Law brings about wrath. But when there isn’t any law, there isn’t any violation of the law. 16That’s why the inheritance comes through faith, so that it will be on the basis of God’s grace. In that way, the promise is secure for all of Abraham’s descendants, not just for those who are related by Law but also for those who are related by the faith of Abraham, who is the father of all of us. 17As it is written: “I have appointed you to be the father of many nations.” So Abraham is our father in the eyes of God in whom he had faith, the God who gives life to the dead and calls things that don’t exist into existence. 18When it was beyond hope, he had faith in the hope that he would become the father of many nations, in keeping with the promise God spoke to him: “That’s how many descendants you will have.” 19Without losing faith, Abraham, who was nearly 100 years old, took into account his own body, which was as good as dead, and Sarah’s womb, which was dead. 20He didn’t hesitate with a lack of faith in God’s promise, but he grew strong in faith and gave glory to God. 21He was fully convinced that God was able to do what he promised. 22Therefore it was credited to him as righteousness.

23But the scripture that says “it was credited to him” wasn’t written only for Abraham’s sake. 24It was written also for our sake, because it is going to be credited to us too. It will be credited to those of us who have faith in the one who raised Jesus our Lord from the dead. 25He was handed over because of our mistakes, and he was raised to meet the requirements of righteousness for us.

This is the Word of the Lord

Thanks be to God

Abraham is held up in the Romans passage as the height of believing. Paul paints a picture through the stories with which he grew up. It’s a portrait of of a man who’s righteousness was counted to him because he believed what God said. Genesis weaves a different tapestry. It’s not a different character than Paul’s, just a more complex version of the story. In the Genesis passage, Abram is full of questions. Knowing the story of Genesis 15 and reading Paul’s interpretation in Romans 4 leaves me with the question Abraham, what are you afraid of?

I imagine Abraham responding, I’m afraid that I’m too old for the promise. I’m afraid that I won’t be able to respond to what I know God is doing in the world. I’m afraid that this wrinkled body, this tired mind, will fail somehow, and I won’t get to see God’s promise fulfilled.

Abraham, what are you afraid of?

I’m afraid that all that God has given to me will pass to Eleizar of Damascus. I’m afraid that everything I’ve built will pass out of the hands of my family and into the hands of another. I’m afraid that I will not be able to leave something behind that will outlive me. I’m afraid that the things around me that carry my memories will be sold because they won’t mean anything to the one who possesses them. They’re not just trinkets, they’re artifacts from my story, and I cherish the moments of which they remind me.

Abraham, what are you afraid of?

I’m afraid that my wife Sarah, whom I love, has lost out on the promise. I’m afraid that her body is not up to the task and that I will have to go someplace where she cannot follow. I’m afraid that her story and mine are no longer the same. I’m afraid that she has no part to play, for her womb is dead, and though God has promised children, I do not see how it can happen. I know the promise is there, but I don’t see how it will happen, and that makes me afraid.

Abraham, what are you afraid of?

I’m afraid for my life! I’m not a young man anymore, I thought I could live out my days in the city my father built, the city that shares its name with my brother who died. I’m afraid that I live in a strange land where people do not know me, and where I do not know them.

Abraham, what are you afraid of?

I’m afraid that one day, no one will remember me, that I’ll be a footnote in someone’s family tree, and my story will be lost. I have struggled and succeeded, I have fought and lost, and I am afraid that none of it will matter because those around me won’t care anymore. When the times comes for me to sleep with my ancestors, I am afraid that the ways that God has acted in my life will die with me, and no one will give my testimony. I’m afraid that after I’m gone, people will only say nice things about me, because they do not know the true things to say.

Abraham, what are you afraid of?

I’m afraid that people look at me, at my age, and call me as good as dead. I still have more to offer, but I’m afraid that I’ll get lost in what other people tell me I am. I’m afraid that I’ve outlived my own narrative, and now I’m just waiting for the book to be closed. I’m afraid that I no longer have a say in my own reality, that all I am is what people say about me, because I don’t think I’m as good as dead. I’m afraid that even though God has promised me much, I cannot keep my end of the deal. I’m afraid that by choosing Sarah and me, God has made a mistake, and we don’t have what will be required of us to embody God’s promise for the world.

Abraham, what are you afraid of?

I’m afraid that all these things that I have floating around in my head will hold me back, and I won’t see what God is doing in the world. I know that my fears are real, and I know that God’s promise is as well. I know that God is wholly reliable, but I am afraid that I will miss God’s promise. I have faith in God, but I’m afraid that my faith has no effect and the promise has been cancelled. I am afraid that I am beyond hope. God has promised me much, but “LORD God, how do I know that I will actually possess it?”

In spite of all these questions we can image Abraham having, “He was fully convinced that God was able to do what he promised. Therefore it was credited to him as righteousness.” Like the Abram of Genesis 15, we have questions, doubts, and much fear. But Paul shows us Abraham not full of fear, but “when it is beyond hope, he had faith.” And when Abram was filled with fear, he chose instead to have faith in the LORD, and it was credited to him as righteousness. These are two impressions of the same man, chosen by God to give glory to God. God who raised Jesus our Lord from the dead. So we can ask Abraham a new question. A question to which we already know the answer.

Abraham, what do you have faith in?

My faith is in the God of my father, who is the author of all creation. I have faith in the God who is beyond time, and who’s promises are upheld in every age. My faith is in the God who does not fail, even when I cannot see how it will happen, my faith is that God will make it happen. My faith is in the stories my father and mother told me as a child. Stories about God’s faithfulness, passed down in the family to whom I am connected. Stories that cannot be forgotten, because they are the stories that create reality for all of creation. My faith is in the God who calls things that don’t exist into existence. My faith is that even though the part I have played in this story may be lost, the story still remains. Because it is not only my story, but yours, and ours, and God’s.

Abram’s faith was credited to him as righteousness, and he only had a few stories to hold up. For Abraham, it was the promise of a child. But the child of promise is not just Isaac or Ishmael. The child of promise is something that Abraham could not have imagined. Abraham wandered the promised land generations before his descendants would call it their home. And Generations after those who settled there, his descendant would be born in Bethlehem, and play out a pageant that we have seen and know to be true. We have seen so much more of God’s glory than Abraham could have imagined. Like Abraham, we are sometimes caught up in our fear. But we know that the faith of Jesus Christ is credited to us even more than Abraham’s faith is credited to him.

“[Jesus] was handed over because of our mistakes, and he was raised to meet the requirements for us.” The requirements are met, the promise is made, and it has been credited to us as righteousness before we have a chance to debate it. We do not have to earn it, in fact we cannot. But neither can we lose it, “the promise is secure for all of Abraham’s descendants, not just for those who are related by Law but also for those who are related by the faith of Abraham, who is the father of all of us.” The promise is secure not because of anything we have done or left undone. The promise is secure because God says so.

And when we ask of ourselves the same question we have asked of Abraham, “Christian, what do you have faith in?” The answers can ring out with confidence, because our faith is in the God who gives life to the dead and calls things that don’t exist into existence. Our faith is that when we poor sinners make a mess of this world, God doesn’t stop at cleaning up the mess, God cleans the sinners. God has declared that God will be with us and our own sinful nature cannot stop him. Like a mother who will not forsake her nursing child, like a father who welcomes the prodigal home, the requirements of righteousness have already been met.

Even when our faith falters and we revert to our fears, God still keeps God’s promises. Even when we cannot let our statement of faith rise up from within us, even when we cannot whisper our own faith, the faith of Abraham is counted as ours. Even more, the faith of Jesus our Lord is counted to us. We don’t have to be good enough, we don’t have to have enough faith. God is good enough, and faithful enough, to carry out the redemptive promise.

So don’t be afraid, says the LORD, I am your protector. How freeing is that? How freeing is the promise that we are a redeemed people, and there’s nothing that is not already taken care of? “The promise to Abraham and to his descendants, that he would inherit the world, didn’t come through the Law, but through the righteousness that comes from faith.” The faith of our Lord Jesus Christ, who “was handed over because of our mistakes, and he was raised to meet the requirements of righteousness for us.”

So to answer Abram’s final question, “LORD God, how do I know that I will actually posses it?” You know it because God sweeps away all that we have to fear, and frees us to act in faith, rather than fear.

Amen.

Focus: God is faithful in spite of our fears.

Function: To encourage people to act out of faith, rather than fear.

Silenced

Mark 9:2-9

2Six days later Jesus took Peter, James and John, and brought them to the top of a very high mountain where they were alone. He was transformed in front of them, 3and his clothes were amazingly bright, brighter than if they had been bleached white. 4Elijah and Moses appeared and were talking with Jesus. 5Peter reacted to all of this by saying to Jesus, “Rabbi, it’s good that we’re here. Let’s make three shrines - one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.” 6He said this because he didn’t know how to respond, for the three of them were terrified.

7Then a cloud overshadowed them, and a voice spoke from the cloud, “This is my Son, whom I dearly love. Listen to him!” 8Suddenly, looking around, they no longer saw anyone with them except Jesus.

9As they were coming down the mountain, he ordered them not to tell anyone what they had seen until after the Human One had risen from the dead.

This is the Word of the Lord

Thanks be to God

What a familiar scene. We tell this story every year, pulled from one of the three gospels. Each time we see the same thing happening, Jesus goes up with either his elite disciples or his special needs disciples, depending on one’s interpretation. Every time These great historical figures appear with Jesus, every time Jesus is shown to be God’s son. Every time, every time, every time, Peter sticks his foot in his mouth.

I asked my dear friend John what he thought of this passage, and he gave me a playful grin and quoted Peter, “Rabbi, it’s good that we’re here.” What a totally silly thing for Peter to say, “Rabbi, it’s good that we’re here,” it’s almost as though he’s congratulating Jesus for having the foresight to bring some people up there to know what to do when Moses and Elijah show up to, as my generation would say, “Hang Out.”

Peter’s statement is a perfect blend of humility and arrogance. He’s been pulled aside for the opportunity to see Jesus doing something that reveals that he is God, and he knows he’s not worthy of standing alongside the great prophets and the Messiah on this mountain. That’s his humility. He is profoundly uncomfortable with seeing God as God.

With good reason, I mean, if one ever encounters God and is left comfortable, one has a rather small God. The God Peter, James, and John encounter is quite large, and the three of them are terrified.

Now, this is not to say that one cannot be comforted by God, that’s something different. Those who have encountered God in times of strife and indeed frequently comforted, but they are never left with a charge that the world is going alright, don’t worry about changing anything, we’ve arrived at our destination so don’t do anything, just get comfortable.

So Peter finds a way to ease his discomfort with encountering God in a classic way. Looking busy. Doesn’t really matter what, so long as it’s something of which God would approve. So we imagine Peter looking around so the big boss won’t find him just standing there, and he says, “Let’s make three shrines - one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.” But if you’re building a shrine, you’re near the moment, not in the moment. Peter can’t stand it, so he decides he’d rather be close to Jesus than with Jesus.

Clergy are guilty of this all the time, we find ways to distance ourselves from the very God we serve in the name of “organization”, or of “flow of worship,” and because we’re already looking to the next thing we have to lead in the bulletin, we miss what’s happening right in front of us.

One of the Pastors with whom I have worked closely over the years preached a brilliant sermon on listening for the still, small voice of God, and how important it is to sit in silence, reverently experiencing what God has for us without trying to fill time and space with our own contributions. The time came for the anthem, which was also about God’s voice speaking in the silence rather than our busyness, at the conclusion of which the music leader paused to allow the room to grow silent, and sit in that uncomfortable place. The Pastor, looking ahead to the next thing, started the Doxology on his own, keeping the service moving.

What a totally Peter thing to do. Got to do something because I just can’t handle what God is doing. So Peter opens his mouth, even though he doesn’t know what to say, and offers to do something, because he doesn’t know what to do.

We just saw something really amazing happen. We just saw our great historical heroes of faith standing alongside Jesus. We don’t know how to respond, but we think we have to so we start talking just to fill the space inside our own heads where we should be silenced by the awe of the situation.

We find all sorts of ways of distancing ourselves from what God is doing, even the way we approach the Bible, the unique and authoritative witness to the Word of God, can distance us from God if we approach it on a purely intellectual level. I can entertain a thought without being changed by it, I can read how it ought to be without feeling like I should make it that way. I can see Jesus in these pages without being crucified with him. We can together watch God do amazing things and wrap it up in a blanket of “context” and never have to be challenged by the parts with which I disagree. I can read a commentary or two and get answers to the problems I have with the text and don’t have to actually wrestle with what the Spirit is trying to do inside of me, inside of us, and I can stand before God with a stupid look on my face and say, “Rabbi it is good that we are here, Let us build three shrines - one for you, one for Elijah, and one for Moses.” So that I don’t have to just watch God be God, because a true encounter with God will change me and I am absolutely terrified of that change.

“Then a cloud overshadowed them, and a voice spoke from the cloud, “This is my Son, whom I dearly love. Listen to him!”

Don’t you know, Peter, what’s going on here? Don’t you know that you’re dealing with your Lord? Do you really want to run off and try to get a little work done? “This is my Son, whom I dearly love. Listen to him!”

Why are you talking when you could be listen to the very Son of God who has come here to save the whole world from itself? Why are you trying to build a shrine when you can watch the author of creation re-write your sinful reality into something that is whole again?

And Peter is silenced. He had not only seen that Jesus is indeed the Christ, but he has heard the LORD speaking to him and his terror is replaced with wonder.

Wednesday marks the beginning of the season of Lent. A season when we do not say Hallelujah, but sit in silence, remembering Jesus’s temptation in the wilderness. Confessing our sins and waiting for an Assurance of Pardon that for those forty days is withheld. The transfiguration we witness today is when we are silenced with awe for what God has done in our lives, transforming us when we’d rather change the subject. This transfiguration changes everything, and “Suddenly, looking around, they no longer saw anyone with them except Jesus.”

A huge part of the Gospel is God bridging what separates us from God, and this story is an example of exactly that. Peter finds a way to distance himself from God under the guise of serving Jesus, and God refuses to be kept at bay. God will not be kept at a safe distance, whether we would do that by building shrines on a mountaintop, by hiding from our calling, by anticipating what might come next, or by cloaking the gospel with facts and figures. God strips us whatever it is we would put in God’s way and leaves us, on a mountaintop, with Jesus.

I’ve already said that my tendency is to keep God at arms length by thinking abstractly about God, and when I tend to really encounter God, it’s an emotional moment, not a thoughtful one. I’m not willing to make the leap that thinking about God is a bad thing, but only loving God with my mind is only giving me a very small piece of what God wants to be for me.

So like Peter, I find myself silenced in the presence of God.

Because when God reveals Godself, there’s a reason that the first thing said is “Do not be afraid.” When we hear the word of the Lord, it consumes us and wipes away all of the pretense and shrine-building we can throw at it. It leaves us with only our Lord, once we get out of our own way and allow ourselves to be in that moment rather than veiling it, we can be with God, and be filled with a wholeness that we cannot imagine. Because in that moment, all of our fear is swept away, replaced with the assurance that we are standing in the presence of God’s Son, whom God dearly loves.

Peter is silent after being given that command, as are the other disciples. They stand in the presence of the transfigured Jesus for an unknown length of time, participating in what God is doing in their lives, not anticipating what the needs of those before them will be. “Rabbi, it’s good that we are here.” But not for the reasons we think, it’s good that we are here because you have chosen to share yourself with us.

God has chosen to share himself with us, and it’s an intimate moment that should be kept private, not out of shame, but because moments when God silences us should be cherished. I think this is why Christ tells the disciples to keep their experiences to themselves until after his resurrection. I don’t think it’s any kind of Messianic secret, I think it’s a recognition that something amazing has happened, but that the moment has passed, and we cannot relive it or recreate it in any way that does it justice. We can only wait for the next time that God reveals herself to us, and do our best to take part in what is happening around us.

For now we’re headed off the mountain, and we’re preparing to walk out into the Wilderness on Wednesday. There will be a time for Hosannas and Hallelujahs, and there will be a time when we no longer think that we need to protect ourselves from our awesome God. There will be a time when we see our Lord’s transfiguration and know that we can see him not because he is different but because we ourselves have been transformed. There will be a time when all of creation hears the voice from heaven affirming that Christ is the Lord. There will be a time when God will enter every trembling heart and set them free from our own brokenness. There will be a time when even the stones will shout. But for now, we have to leave behind the things that hold us back, because God is doing something truly amazing in each of us. A work of redemption and re-creation that will, like the disciples on top of the mountain, leave us with nothing to say.

And I am confident that we have faith enough in our risen Lord to be silenced...

Because we know that God’s voice is worth listening for.

God is Home

God is Home from Joseph Taber on Vimeo.

Luke 19:29-40

As Jesus came to Bethphage and Bethany on the Mount of Olives, he gave two disciples a task. He said, “Go into the village over there, when you enter it, you will find tied up there a colt that no one has ever ridden. Untie it and bring it here. If someone asks, ‘Why are you untying it?’ just say, ‘Its master needs it.’” Those who had been sent found it exactly as he had said.

As they were untying the colt, its owners said to them, “Why are you untying the colt?”

They replied, “Its master needs it.” They brought it to Jesus, threw their clothes on the colt, and lifted Jesus onto it. As Jesus rode along, they spread their clothes on the road.

As Jesus approached the road leading down from the Mount of Olives, the whole throng of his disciples began rejoicing. They praised God with a loud voice because of all the mighty things they had seen. They said,

“Blessings on the king who comes in the name of the Lord.

Peace in heaven and glory in the highest heavens.”

Some of the Pharisees from the crowd said to Jesus, “Teacher, scold your disciples! Tell them to stop!”

He answered, “I tell you, if they were silent, the stones would shout.”

This is the Word of the Lord

Thanks be to God

We are not at the gates of Jerusalem just yet. We’re on the Mount of Olives, near Bethphage and Bethany, and our Lord is looking forward to Jerusalem. We’ve been on this journey alongside the disciples for quite some time, and we’re seen great things along the way. Things that can only be acts of God, performed before our eyes. So we look down the mountain at Jerusalem, the cultural home of Israel.

We see this text’s Jerusalem through the mixture of passages we’ve pulled together to celebrate Palm Sunday, but the Hosannas and Palm Fronds we so often associate with that holiday come from other gospels, and are not present here. Lacking those favorite images, my first instinct is to deconstruct the Palm-Sunday narrative we’ve all heard a hundred times and find out what Luke has to say about all this “triumphal entry” stuff. Then I want to take this text specifically and break it down into its components. My natural inclination is to vivisect this Living Word, and see what it’s made of. But that’s exegesis, not preaching.

So we’ve got this text, an ingredient in the Palm Sunday mixture, and Jesus seems to play a very passive role here. We’ve got a little direction in the first half, and a little dialogue in the second, but the rest of the action is done by the disciples. They go to the nearby village, they untie the colt, they bring it back to Jesus, they set him on the colt, they spread their clothes along the ground while Jesus, carried downhill by gravity and supported by an animal they borrowed from the nearest town, just rides along.

But we’re headed for Jerusalem. God’s activity is less overt in this passage. But we’re looking down from the Mount of Olives, and God is taking us to Jerusalem. From here, we begin a relentless drive to the cross, gathering the momentum we will need as we walk down the hill with our eyes on the gates of Jerusalem.

We’re not at the gates of Jerusalem, as we are in other Gospels’ accounts, we’re at a crossroads. “As Jesus approached the road leading down from the Mount of Olives, the whole throng of his disciples began rejoicing. They praised God with a loud voice because of all the mighty things they had seen.” We’re approaching the road leading down the mountain, and we see our spiritual home, the whole city of Jerusalem laid out before us, and we can look back, figuratively, and see everything that God has done for us. All the mighty things that we have seen, that have shown us that God is active in our world. We look back and see our whole history, from Creation to Egypt to the Promised Land, from Monarchs to the Divided Kingdom to the Exile. From a birth in Bethlehem to a baptism in the Jordan, to parables and miracles and wonders beyond words. When we look back and see that, we can look forward to Jerusalem and know that the redemptive moment is at hand. Though we are living in an occupied land, we look back, this time literally, and see this man Jesus, Jesus who is our redeemer, Jesus who has enacted all of the mighty works we have seen. We look back and see Jesus, and we know that it is God who leads us to Jerusalem.

The disciples can’t keep it inside them, they have to celebrate what they have seen, what they see now. “Blessings on the king who comes in the name of the Lord. Peace in heaven, and glory in the highest heavens.” Listen y’all, God’s coming home! God is going down to Jerusalem to be with us, to be our home! We’ve wandered in Canaan with Abraham and Jacob, we were slaves in Egypt with the ancient Israelites, we wandered the wilderness with Moses, we carved out a place for ourselves in the land God promised us, only to be taken away from it and carried into exile in Babylon. We may count ourselves as righteous, saying we’ve followed the law and deserve the land that was promised to us, but even released from Babylon, we’ve been in exile for our whole lives. Even out from under Pharaoh’s lash, we are slaves to our own sinfulness. We have consistently distanced ourselves from our God, but now we get to go home, because God is here, this man right behind me.

I know this man behind me just looks like a man on a colt, but he’s not just a man. This is the Lord! God’s coming home, we’re going to be home again! We’re going to be with God again! And when that’s what is see laid out before us, how can we stay silent? “Blessings on the king who comes in the name of the Lord. Peace in heaven and glory in the highest heavens.”

Then the Pharisees step out of the crowd.

We’ve grown accustomed to the image of Jesus parading through the streets of Jerusalem with droves of people on either side cheering him on, but in this section of Luke, the only crowd mentioned is “the whole throng of [Jesus’s] disciples.” So these Pharisees can only come from the multitude that has been following Jesus.

These aren’t just off-duty priests, as are so often depicted in the cartoon versions of this story we saw as children in Vacation Bible School. Fred Craddock connects these Pharisees with those that warned Jesus about Herod’s plot to kill Jesus. They even acknowledge his authority by calling him “Teacher.” It’s entirely possible that these Pharisees are following Jesus, maybe not as disciples, but they don’t seem to want to interfere with Jesus’s mission, they just want him to do it quietly.

And what a good place for those among us who are Presbyterian to stand. Here are the educated Elite of the Jewish community telling a bunch of rowdy Galileans to maybe try keeping it down a little bit. You can still do your proclamation, just don’t shout about it where the Romans can hear you. Don’t shout it where the high priests can hear you, whisper it politely, decently, orderly, “Teacher, scold your disciples! Tell them to stop!”

But can it be stopped? Some stories need to be told. Some stories are not content to bridge the gap between book covers. Some news must make itself heard, must leap off the pages on which it is printed and take hold of those who know it, compelling them to tell us that God is coming home. God is coming home to be with us, her children. Nevermind all the ways that we have resisted, rebelled, mutinied against God. God is not meeting us halfway, God is bridging the full distance to make his home among us. God is coming to Jerusalem, to reclaim the people as God’s own, because their master has need of them.

So we can imagine Jesus, with Pharisees pleading for reverent silence that won’t offended anybody, looking over the crowd of boisterous disciples. These disciples have got it right, and I hear Jesus’s voice swell with a little bit of pride at the followers who understand the importance of what is happening around them. “I tell you, if they were silent, the stones would shout.”

Stones, as a rule, don’t shout. It’s not in their nature, so far as I can tell. My experience of stones is, at its most poetic, that they are silent witnesses to our histories and struggles. Silent witnesses, barely participating in the world around them, being acted upon, rather than acting themselves, because they’re just rocks.

We can allegorize Jesus’s pronouncement, the stones wouldn’t actually shout, that’s contrary to their nature! Just so the disciples silence in this manner is contrary to their nature. But if you want to see something happen contrary to what we’ve seen before, Jesus is the right place to look. The lame walk, the blind see, the sick are healed, and the dead live. Mighty things are done, and both we and the disciples before us have seen them happen. If these are possible for Jesus, I take him at his word when he says that the stones will shout. Some stories need to be told, and the story that God has come to redeem all of creation is one of those stories that cannot be silenced.

So Jesus tells us, “if they were silent, the stones would shout.” Because the Gospel is irrepressible. God’s story will get told, and it’s our decision as to whether or not we choose to participate in the telling. But with or without us, the good news of God will be spread.

God is active in this passage, driving us down from the Mount of Olives into Jerusalem. The disciples are witnessing to what God has actively done before them. We cannot help but cry out with joy, driven like a flock before our Lord, witnessing to what God has done for us, what God is doing to us, and what God will do through us. This is a story that even a stone could shout, but we have the joy and privilege of proclaiming this Gospel, that God chooses to make God’s home here, with us. The Gospel that when Jesus looks down the mountain at Jerusalem, he also sees the next hill, where he will be crucified. The Gospel that doesn’t conclude in Jerusalem, but merely transitions there. The Gospel that God will be our home, through the redemptive power of both the cross and the empty tomb. With this Gospel in our hearts, how can we possibly be silent.

Focus: When we see what God has done, the nature of who we are compels us to proclaim the Gospel

Function: To remind people of the joy of being a redeemed people.

The Time is Fulfilled

Psalm 62:

5 For God alone my soul waits in silence,
 for my hope is from him. 
6 He alone is my rock and my salvation,
 my fortress; I shall not be shaken. 
7 On God rests my deliverance and my honor;
 my mighty rock, my refuge is in God.


8 Trust in him at all times, O people;
 pour out your heart before him;
 God is a refuge for us.
 Selah


9 Those of low estate are but a breath,
 those of high estate are a delusion;
in the balances they go up;
 they are together lighter than a breath. 
10 Put no confidence in extortion,
 and set no vain hopes on robbery;
 if riches increase, do not set your heart on them.


11 Once God has spoken;
 twice have I heard this:
that power belongs to God, 
12 and steadfast love belongs to you, O Lord.
For you repay to all
 according to their work.

Mark 1

14 Now after John was arrested, Jesus came to Galilee, proclaiming the good news of God, 15and saying, ‘The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news.’

16 As Jesus passed along the Sea of Galilee, he saw Simon and his brother Andrew casting a net into the lake—for they were fishermen. 17And Jesus said to them, ‘Follow me and I will make you fish for people.’ 18And immediately they left their nets and followed him. 19As he went a little farther, he saw James son of Zebedee and his brother John, who were in their boat mending the nets. 20Immediately he called them; and they left their father Zebedee in the boat with the hired men, and followed him.

This is the word of the Lord

Thanks Be to God

I’ve heard this passage, and the corresponding texts in the other gospels, preached a number of times. Each time the focus has been on the calling of the disciples. Either they had enough faith to drop what they were doing, and we should be like them, or that there must have been something special about our God to just make them abandon their obligations to join this man Jesus on his journey. We’re even left with a somewhat comical image of Zebedee looking around for his sons after they’ve seemingly disappeared. But the focus for me is on verses fourteen and fifteen, which set the pattern for the rest of Mark’s gospel.

There’s no Christmas story in Mark, our birth narratives come from Matthew and Luke. Mark’s gospel is filled with “immediately,” and everything happens quickly after the preceding event. Mark only has time for the most important stuff, and chooses to start with this man John, who is out baptizing, using the same words as our call to worship this morning: “Prepare a way.” And here we are, with ten verses in between, and this seemingly central character we’ve been introduced to has been arrested.

There’s no fanfare here, no story about how Herod had him arrested so he could later be executed, no account of why, he just disappears. Because this isn’t the Good News of John the Baptist, it’s the good news of Jesus Christ. John is not the story, he prophesied about the story that was coming. And Jesus is in Galilee, proclaiming the good news of God.

The Common English Bible, which is quickly becoming my preferred translation, has three exclamation points in verse 15 of our Mark passage. It reads “Now is the time! Here come’s God’s kingdom! Change your hearts and lives, and trust this good news!” These words are not just a call to action, they’re not something to sleepily read in a morning devotion, Haven’t you heard? Jesus is on the move!

We live in a world where our churches are in decline, and some are even dying. But we also live in a world that is waiting to hear God’s voice. In everything we do, if we are not acting out God’s voice, we’re just performing a party trick. Our accomplishments may impress us, and it is indeed easy to put our trust in visible touchable things. But the psalmist tells us that they’re just empty air. For God alone is our rock and our salvation, and we shall not be shaken. Like the old hymn says, You can have the whole world, just give me Jesus. You can keep your securities, your mutual funds, your fishing nets that I’ll just have to end up mending, all I want is a God who is my refuge, a God who is worth waiting for. Just give me Jesus. The psalmist says “Those of low estate are but a breath, those of high estate are a delusion; in the balances they go up; they are together lighter than a breath.” Our world has so little that we can really know. But I know Jesus is the truth, and Jesus is on the move.

We’re in a world that sometimes is spinning out of control and other times is mired in a mess that we can’t break ourselves out of. But the thing we can hang all of our faith on is God, who is our rock, our salvation, our fortress. In a world that we don’t understand, Just give me Jesus, because I know that God is a refuge for us, but it’s not a refuge where we can just sit around, waiting to be picked up by our heavenly mother to take us home. All that time spent waiting, and we know it’s worth for, and now the time is fulfilled, Because Jesus is on the move.

Jesus is moving from the wilderness to Promised Land, crossing the river Jordan into Galilee, and then Jesus will move to Jerusalem, the seat of the promised land. But the promised land is a shadow of the promise that is embodied by God-With-Us. The time is fulfilled in Jesus, the Christ, the source of all our hope. And Jesus is on the move.

He’s moving in new church developments, and in century old churches bringing new life into communities that all reason says we should just abandon. He’s moving in our communities, bringing us together over a meal, or helping us to clean fallen limbs out of our yard after a storm. He’s moving through peacemakers and warriors, even though they do not understand one another, Jesus is moving in both of them, acting in love so that neither peace nor war will need to be made. Jesus is moving through a world that is waiting for the time when it will be redeemed from it’s fallen state. Jesus is on the move, proclaiming the good news of God and saying, “The time is fulfilled, the kingdom of God is at hand.” It’s not some far off dream, it’s not a day to await, it’s already here, happening all around us. So come, Jesus says, “Follow me.” Leave behind what you know, what you have resigned yourself to, because I’m on the move, and even though you have no idea what it will look like, in following me you will be transformed. You can stay stagnant, but Jesus is on the move.

Not too long ago, I was met outside the chapel door by a Korean artist and worship leader. Right before we entered he addressed all of us who would be worshipping that day saying that we were required to participate in worship, and that none of us would be permitted to spectate. For me, it was a wake-up call. How many times had I attended worship and merely watched Jesus move past me. You have the option to stay stagnant and spectating, but Jesus is on the move.

So here we are, the church, in the world but not of the world. We are the body of Christ, we are the face and hands and feet of Jesus. And we have long thought that we could expect our church to grow without really working at it. We could just wait for the time when our pews would be filled like they once were, when we couldn’t get that new building fast enough. When we would prepare ourselves to be disciples with pulpit lectures and passed plates. Then when the day of the Lord came we would be swept up like the faithful church mice we were. Our task was to prepare the way of the Lord, and to make his paths straight. John’s message is one of preparation. But it’s too late to prepare, because the one for whom we were preparing has arrived. The Time is fulfilled because Jesus is on the scene, and Jesus is on the move. With Jesus on the move, we cannot expect to keep up just by being passive. The time is fulfilled, Jesus is on the move, and wants us to go with him.

We are the body of Christ, and we are part of a movement. We are not individuals taking a stand, we are not waiting for the Day of the Lord foretold by the prophets. At least I hope not. Because this is not the good news of John the Baptist, it’s the Good News of Jesus Christ. Because if the church is just waiting for the world to change, it’s going to pass us by. The Psalmist speaks to this, “For God alone my soul waits in silence.” We’re not supposed to wait for the world to accommodate us, we’re supposed to wait for God. With Jesus on the scene proclaiming that the kingdom is at hand, we no longer have to wait for God. John pointed to what was coming, but now The time is fulfilled. God-with-us is on the move.

Columbia Seminary has a January term where one takes a single course and does nothing but that for the month of January. So the professor’s have to pack a semester’s worth of information into about three weeks. The course I’ve been taking is Transformational Church and Urban Ministry in Atlanta. And we’ve been looking at various different models for what a church can look like and still be a church. Because the world is changing around us and traditional models don’t speak to everyone.

In studying the various contemporary church models, I have come to the conclusion that there is only one “right way” to do church, and that is as faithfully as possible. Whatever model we use now and in the future, so long as we act in faith, our offering is pleasing to God. We can’t stand still just because we’re afraid of what might happen, as Nicholas Wolterstorff wrote in his book Lament for a Son, “Faith is a footbridge that you don’t know will hold you up over the chasm until you’re forced to walk out onto it.” But we have to walk out over the chasm, because that’s where Jesus is, and Jesus is on the move. So we must step out of our fishing boats and follow wherever our God calls us, because power and steadfast love belong to our Lord. Even when it is scary, and it will be. But when we step onto that bridge of faith, we are one step closer to a God who is too loving and powerful to just stand still, but is always active in our lives, even when we aren’t active ourselves.

Jesus is on the move, and the gospel message isn’t passive, it’s an urgent message to the people of God that we are no longer enslaved to sin and death. We have been purchased by God, and although on our own we are only a breath, God says we are valuable enough that God moves through us even in our brokenness, for no other reason than God loves us. I’m not sure what it will look like to fish for people, but I want to be on the move with the God who loves us all that much.