From Matthew’s Gospel:
Now the eleven disciples went to Galilee, to the mountain to which Jesus had directed them. When they saw him, they worshiped him; but some doubted. And Jesus came and said to them, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you. And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.
(From the Daily Office Lectionary – Matthew 28:16-20 – May 17, 2012)
Today is the Feast of the Ascension. Today we remember that, forty days after his resurrection, Jesus ascended into heaven, disappearing from his disciples’ sight into the clouds. Luke tells us in the Book of Acts that the disciples stood there gazing up towards heaven, and that two men, presumably angels, appeared and asked “Why do you stand looking up towards heaven? This Jesus, who has been taken up from you into heaven, will come in the same way as you saw him go into heaven.” (Acts 1:11) So we have two biblical promises: “I’m still with you” and “He’s not with you but he’ll be back.” The Christian paradox illustrated in the readings for a single day. ~ For me the meaning of the Ascension is summarized in the petition of one of the collects for the day in the American Book of Common Prayer (1979): that “we may also in heart and mind there ascend, and with him continually dwell” – or as Jesus put it in John’s gospel “that where I am, there you may be also.” (John 14:3) I don’t understand that as a future conditional promise but rather as a present permissive reality. Christ’s ascension allows us to be in God’s presence, now . . . no matter what our circumstance may be. It’s a matter of us recognizing that presence in the present, which we so often fail to do because we think of it as a future reward for some good behavior or something on our part when, in reality, it has nothing to do with our behavior or our goodness at all. The apparent paradox of the two biblical promises accurately reflects our confusion.
This conversation troubles me. It falls at the end of a lengthy debate between Jesus and a group of biblical scholars composed of both Sadducees and Pharisees (two groups which seldom, if ever, agreed). They have challenged Jesus with three questions: the legality of paying taxes to Caesar; the status of a many-times married woman after the resurrection of the dead (whose wife will she be?); and the greatest of the commandments. Jesus has answered those questions and now asks them one of his own. It’s a trick question. It silences his critics and none of them ever again asks him a question. ~ That’s what troubles me. I don’t follow Jesus because he has the gift of witty repartee or because he has cut-and-dried answers to life’s questions or because he is a viciously effective debater who subdues his opponents. In fact, I follow Jesus for quite opposite reasons. I follow Jesus because in his footsteps I find pathways to contemplate and explore the questions of life to which there are often no solid answers. I follow Jesus because I find responses to my questions which invite and encourage further exploration, not answers which end and cut off discussion. ~ Was Jesus satisfied with the Pharisees response? Was he pleased that they sat mute and did not dare to ask a follow-up question? Matthew doesn’t tell us (nor does Mark, who tells the same story in a different fashion). But after this exchange, Jesus turns to the crowd and says to them about “the scribes and the Pharisees”, “Do not do what they do.” According to Matthew, Jesus apparently is referring to a lot of picky and burdensome ritual practices which the Pharisees heap onto others’ shoulders without lifting a finger to assist. But I wonder if he might not also be saying, “Don’t stop asking questions. Don’t stop exploring life’s issues. Don’t stop talking about God and the Messiah. Even if you don’t understand, maybe especially if you don’t understand, don’t sit there mute!” ~ On the Second Sunday of Easter the Eucharistic lectionary had us consider the story of “Doubting Thomas” (as it does every year). In my parish that was also “Children’s Sunday” when, instead of a formal recitation of the gospel and a learned sermon, the gospel is told to our children in story-book fashion with a discussion at their level of what it means. I suggested to them that it is very important to note that Jesus did not criticize Thomas for asking questions and that we should understand that to be an encouragement to ask questions of our own, and never stop doing so. So, yeah … I think Jesus may have been doing the same thing here. I think he may have been very disappointed in the Pharisees and Sadducees who did not “dare to ask him any more questions.” Don’t stop asking questions!
There was a meme circulating the conservative blogosphere and email circuit several months ago in which folks of a certain political persuasion asserted that they were “praying” for President Obama by reciting a verse from Psalm 109: “Let his days be few, and let another take his office.” The psalm continues in the next verse: “Let his children be fatherless, and his wife become a widow.” And the petition get even worse after that. This is not what Paul is admonishing the faithful to do in his letter to the young bishop Timothy. In fact, it is clearly the very opposite. ~ What would our country and our society be like if everyone did offer “supplications, prayers, intercessions, and thanksgivings … for … all who are in high positions”? One of the things I counsel folks who come to me with issues of unresolved anger toward another is to pray for that other. Not specific intercessions just simply to offer that person’s name before God with the simple request, “In this person’s life, Lord, may your will be done.” The nearly universal experience of my counselees is that over the course of time (the length of time varies from person to person) their anger dissipates; the typical observation is that is impossible to stay angry at someone for whom you are praying. ~ The purpose of prayer is not to inform God of anything of which we believe God may be unaware, to give God our good advice, or to conform God’s will to ours. Rather, it is to relinquish our own selfish desires in acquiescence to the one “whose power, working in us, can do infinitely more than we can ask or imagine,” as we remind ourselves as the end of the Daily Office (quoting Ephesians 3:20). ~ What would our society be like if everyone prayed for our leadership, even the leaders with whom we have political disagreements or personal dislikes? What would things be like if I prayed for that jackass in Congress, or that SOB in the state house? I cannot imagine, but Paul assures me that we would all “lead a quiet and peaceable life in all godliness and dignity.” Maybe we (that really means, I) should give it a try.
I was reminded just this morning in something else I read that there is no positive attribute “darkness”. Darkness actually is nothing; it is simply the absence of light. We cannot and do not measure darkness; we measure light and when there is no light, that’s nothing. The only purported measurement of darkness I know of is the Bortle Dark-Sky Scale, but in truth the Bortle Scale is a nine-level numeric ranking of night sky’s brightness. There is no negative side of the scale. Once one reaches the bottom of the scale where there is total absence of light, there is no greater (or perhaps one should say, lesser) degree of darkness. There are degrees of light, but not of darkness. ~ So how is that modern scientific people who know this can make sense of a phrase like “the power of darkness”? If darkness is simply the absence of light, then darkness is nothing . . . literally “no-thing”. And no-thing can have no power. I can imagine someone saying, “If darkness is no-thing, and no-thing has no power, then God’s rescue is meaningless.” Of course, I don’t believe that, but I can certainly imagine someone in today’s world working through that line of thought. ~ I think one of the failings of our age is the loss of a poetic or metaphorical understanding of reality. I know that Paul is using “darkness” as a synonym or a metaphor for evil, but the trouble is that our spiritual or religious language is so often at odds with the physical reality we know around us, and in a world which has lost an appreciation for the poetic that is a problem. The English satirist Malcom Muggeridge said, “There is no such thing as darkness; only a failure to see.” Shakespeare wrote, “There is no darkness but ignorance.” Perhaps in our time, we need to understand Paul to be saying that God rescues us from our own callowness and incomprehension. Perhaps in our time, the human problem is not so much sinfulness as it is willful stupidity! ~ American author and neurosurgeon Ben Carson once wrote, “God has given us more than fourteen billion cells and connections in our brain. Why would God give us such a complex organ system unless he expects us to use it?” I believe St. Paul would have agreed. Failure to use those brain cells in every possible way, both in science and in matters of faith, is giving into “the power of darkness” from which God has rescued us.
I’m an Episcopalian, an Anglican. That means that, following the lead of our seminal theologian Richard Hooker (1554-1600), I look at religious questions from three perspectives using three sources of authority: Holy Scripture, tradition, and reason. On the question of whether the committed, loving relationships of couples of the same sex should be blessed by the church and recognized by the state, the scriptural perspective is usually the only one the opponents of “same-sex marriage” address. They have been answered adequately on many occasions by others much more able to debate scripture than I am. Based on their analyses, I am satisfied that the Bible does not condemn homosexual relationships. It condemns perversion of human relationships, but that is quite a different thing. There is nothing perverted about two people (whatever their sexes may be) committing themselves to a life-long, mutually supportive, loving, and committed union.
I think I’ve heard part of this verse bandied about as good advice for my whole life: “Don’t cast your pearls before swine.” I suppose what is meant by this is that one’s good effort or good thoughts should not offered to (or wasted on) those who aren’t cultured, educated, or intelligent enough to appreciate them. A lot of biblical commentaries say the verse is a warning by Jesus to his followers that we should not offer biblical doctrine to those who are unable to value and appreciate it, but I don’t think it’s that at all . . . not when one considers the whole text. ~ This proverb appears at the end of the so-called “Sermon on the Mount”. It is preceded by the advice to take care of one’s own problems before criticizing another (“Why do you see the speck in your neighbor’s eye, but do not notice the log in your own eye?” – Matt. 7:3) It is followed by admonitions to ask, seek, and knock, and a description of God as a caring father. That which precedes and follows this proverb is clear and straight-foward; why would one not take this to be equally plainspoken? In addition, why is the warning at the end of this proverb so often ignored: “they will trample them under foot and turn and maul you”? I don’t believe this admonition is about not offering biblical doctrine to those who are unable to appreciate it, not at all! However, it might be about setting that aside for the moment while something else is attended to. ~ I have read commentary actually suggesting that what Jesus is saying to not throw to the dogs (and his hearers would have understood these to be roving packs of wild dogs), the “holy things,” are the choice parts of the animals sacrificed in the Temple, the parts that are supposed to be God’s! C’mon!!! Would a wild dog thrown a t-bone steak trample it under foot and maul the person giving it? No! The dog would devour that meat and beg for more. As a metaphor for not sharing the gospel (“biblical doctrine”), that’s rather a massive fail! Wouldn’t one want your recipients to “feed upon” the gospel and seek more? ~ And note this also, nowhere here does Jesus suggest that one shouldn’t throw something to the dogs, or cast something before the swine. ~ So here’s what I’m thinking today. What this is is good advice to consider carefully what you are throwing or casting in your mission work and outreach, and when you are throwing it. To dogs, throw that which dogs need. Dogs don’t need “holy things”. Wild dogs have very basic needs: food, water, shelter. If they have those, they might be tamed; “holy things” like companionship and affection might be offered later. I don’t know enough about wild pigs (or any pigs, for that matter), but I suspect the message is the same. Give them that which is meaningful and useful for them, and leave the jewelry for later. ~ If this admonition, this proverb is metaphorical of anything, it is a metaphor for doing for others in the way that most and best meets the needs of the moment – not the needs of the giver to “spread the gospel”, but the needs of the recipient whatever they may be. It’s just another way of saying, “Love your neighbor as yourself.” (He might have said, “Do unto the dogs and the swine as you would have others do unto you,” but that just doesn’t have that learned-rabbi ring to it, does it?)
OK. I know that scholarship is sort of settled that Paul really didn’t write the Second Letter to the Thessalonians, but regardless of who actually authored it, here it is in the canon of Holy Scripture, and we are bidden to read it and deal with it. I love the apocalyptic image of Jesus and “his mighty angels” swooping down through the skies “in flaming fire.” This is the stuff of good science fiction movie special effects! It’s that next bit, “inflicting vengeance on those who do not know God”, that gives me pause. Reading from the initial greeting in Verse 1, it seems incredible that the author (whether or not Paul) goes so far afield so quickly, from gratitude (“We must always give thanks to God for you, brothers and sisters,” v. 3) to the depths of tribulation, punishment, and exclusion from God introduced in these verses. Is the author’s gratitude enhanced with a little anticipatory schadenfreude? Is the flip side of gratitude hostility? ~ When the introductory verses of Second Thessalonians are used in the Eucharistic Lectionary (Proper 26C), verses 5 through 10 are excluded; all we get is the author’s gratitude. But here in the Daily Office Lectionary we must confront the vitriol of these verses. If nothing else, this brief excursus into what is clearly an outpouring of anger against those who persecute the church reveals the “humanness” of Christian scripture. These are not the words of God; these are the words of a human being giving vent to human emotion, to genuine frustration. These words, it seems to me, are written by someone in a community under pressure. These are the words of someone surviving oppression and maltreatment left with little ability even to think of loving their enemies. It may be the inspiration of the Holy Spirit that has led the author to express his anger, but the anger is his, not God’s. Encountering these verses, we are confronted by ourselves. Coming to grips with this letter, we come to grips with our own hostility or anger towards those we perceive as different, as “the enemy”. ~ When Paul wrote to Timothy that “all scripture is inspired by God and is useful for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness,” (1 Tim. 3:16) he, of course, was referring to the Hebrew Scriptures, not to his own letters. However, I believe what he wrote is as true for the church’s received canon of Christian scripture as for the so-called “Old Testament” in this way – there are times when what is written provides us an example of what not to do! The writer of Second Thessalonians was righteously angry and intended to comfort his readers by expressing that righteous indignation. This letter teaches us to be careful about what we write in anger; it may be preserved and hundreds or thousands of years later crazy people may use it as the basis of religious doctrine! In other words, don’t shoot your mouth off carelessly, especially on paper! 
There’s a church camp song based on the sentiment of this bit of scripture: “Rejoice in the Lord always, and again I say, Rejoice!” (The lyric is actually a quotation from Philippians 4:4, but Paul repeats the sentiment here.) A group of campers (or, where I learned it, a bunch of Cursillo candidates or a Sunday morning congregation) can really get going just singing “Rejoice! Rejoice!” over and over again. Praise choruses like that can get the Spirit moving among a group of singers. I always have to remember the admonition Paul adds here, “Do not quench the Spirit” because (truth be told) I don’t really like praise choruses. A friend of mine refers to them as “7/11 songs” – the same seven words sung eleven times. . . . Praise choruses are formulaic; both musically and theologically they are generally mediocre, run-of-the-mill, and unremarkable. ~ This ending of the First Letter to the Thessalonians is also formulaic. Paul ends with his standard “Good-bye” filled with admonitions to do good. Compare this to the end of the Letter to the Romans, for example: in Romans 12:9-18 we find Paul saying very much the same thing in very nearly identical words. Several years ago a biblical scholar referred to these endings as Paul’s “shotgun paraenesis” (that fancy Greek word means “moral admonition”): he writes a letter, begins with a formulaic greeting (usually “We give thanks for you. . .”, deals with the issue at hand, then ends by pulling out his musket and blasting the reader with a lot of “do goods”. ~ I once served under a bishop whose standard blessing included a pared-down version of the end of the Letter to the Romans. The first few times I heard it, I thought it was great. But after a while, I stopped paying attention. That’s the thing with formulaic praise choruses, formulaic novels, formulaic blessings, and formulaic admonitions. After a while, we stop paying attention. The Spirit may be moving, but we’re not really in tune with why that is. ~ But here’s another thing with formulas. . . They are formulas because they work! There’s a reason we use the word to describe medicines, baby’s food, and the established forms used in religious ceremonies and legal proceedings; they work! We just need to pay attention to them. ~ So . . . advice for the day: Let down your guard and let Paul’s shotgun formula hit you right between the eyes! Rejoice always! Do not quench the Spirit! Hold fast to what is good! Abstain from evil!
Today’s Daily Office gospel is the Matthean version of what has come to be known as “the Lord’s Prayer.” (I remember someone years ago suggesting that it would better be called “the Disciple’s Prayer” since it is not a prayer actually said by Jesus, but rather one he instructs his disciples to say. Good point, but probably a losing argument.) Anglican prayer books, of course, lift the word trespass out of Jesus’ subsequent commentary in verses 14-15 and substitute it for the debt language in the prayer itself. The “trespass” version is the one I learned during a Methodist childhood and then found in the Episcopal Church when I made that move in high school. Thus, the “debt” version is always jarring on my ears; it makes God sound like some sort of cosmic bookkeeper! These days, I prefer the modern translation that petition, “Forgive us our sins” because, after all, that is what we’re talking about! ~ I also prefer the language here in the penultimate petition, “Do not bring us to the time of trial.” The traditional liturgical version, and even the modernized version in the American BCP, render this as “Do not lead us into temptation” which is similar to the King James translation of Scripture. It’s always struck me as a particularly poor translation theologically. I can make sense of a God who might impose a trial at some time . . . a God who would “lead us into temptation” sounds like a trickster to me. I’m not into Loki or Coyote worship, personally. I’m glad for the modern translation, although it was rejected by the liturgists who put together the most current American BCP. ~ Anyway, I’ve been thinking about the Lord’s Prayer all day because of this reading. I say it every day, of course, as part of the Daily Office, so I should think about it more, but I don’t. I just say it. Like some mantra of meaningless nonsense syllables meant to put one into a trance-like state. For all the thought I usually put into it, I could be reciting a laundry ticket or a shopping list. Prayer shouldn’t be like that. It should be intentional; it should be thoughtful and well-considered. I must work on that. Otherwise, God might as well be a trickster or a bookkeeper . . . or both. Would that mean that God is a supernatural embezzler? Or . . . not praying thoughtfully, is that what I am?
To be honest, I am not “encouraged” by these words; I’m confused as hell! What is Paul talking about? What was he smoking? I mean, c’mon! Archangels descending, God playing a trumpet, the dead rising, the living floating in the clouds, everyone meeting the Lord in the air! What is this? Is this the “Rapture”? ~ Well, no . . . what this is is Paul’s apocalytic vision of something called a “Hellenistic parousia“. What Paul is talking about here is comfort, comfort for relatively new Christians in the city of Thessalonika who expected Jesus to return almost immediately but who, instead, had experienced the death of loved ones and now were worried whether their loved ones would share in the expected victory of Christ over the world. They and Paul would have experienced the arrival of, if not kings or heads of state, at least very high and important government figures to their town or another. Their arrival was a “parousia” (and word meaning “presence”). In the First Century Greek-speaking or “Hellenistic” world, when such personages arrived it was the tradition that the people would go out to greet them and escort them into the city. In this vision that Paul describes, the members of the church, both the dead and the living, will great Christ on his return and escort him into their reality. Since Jesus had been observed “ascending” into the heavens (Luke 24:51), it must be that he will return from the sky and, therefore, his followers will “meet the Lord in the air.” This isn’t about Christians being snatched away from some “tribulation” which will then follow; it’s about Christians meeting Jesus as he returns to comfort them and begin his long reign. As a comfort to those who had lost loved ones, Paul assures them that their beloved departed will be among the first to welcome the Lord’s return. ~ It’s still pretty fantastic, though, isn’t it? Blaring trumpets, angels, rising dead, and a descending god . . . that’s pretty amazing stuff! And that’s the nature of apocalyptic. It speaks to its reader in the here-and-now with fantastic visions of an imagined future, but it’s purpose is to address the present. The Rapture nonsense, which treats it as some sort of oracle or “prophecy” laying out a timetable for the end of the world, is just that – nonsense. The message for us in the 21st Century is the same as it was to the Thessalonians in the First Century, not a message predicting the end of the world, but a message of comfort and hope. Comfort that our departed loved ones have not “lost out” on the coming fulfillment of God’s reign, and a very present hope that we will be (as the Book of Common Prayer puts) “reunited with those who have gone before.” So I guess, after all, I am encouraged by these words!
