Occasional thoughts of an Anglican Episcopal priest

Category: Scripture (Page 30 of 43)

Mindfulness – From the Daily Office Lectionary

From the Daily Office Lectionary for Wednesday in the week of Proper 14, Year 1 (Pentecost 11, 2015)

Mark 10:25 ~ [Jesus said,] “It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God.”

I grew up with people (primarily my Methodist Sunday School teacher grandfather) telling me that this verse is about getting into heaven. Wrong! It’s taken me a lot of years to shake that teaching, but shake it one must, because it’s just plain wrong!

The first thing to notice about this statement is that the verbs (both of them “is”) are present tense. This is not a statement about the future, either a future in this life or a future after death. It’s not about the future; it’s about the present. It’s about now. “It IS easier … someone who IS rich …” Here and now.

The second thing to notice about this statement is that it never mentions heaven, paradise, afterlife, or whatever. Jesus does talk about getting into “the kingdom of God” but that’s not the way Jesus talks about life after death (something he actually doesn’t talk much about). “Kingdom of God” is the way Jesus talks about the life we are meant to be living now, about the reign of God in our lives as we live them in the current moment. Elsewhere (in other gospels) he uses the term “kingdom of heaven” or “eternal life” to mean the same thing.

When we see and accept those two things, then, we are left with a statement about the present, but what does it mean? As I pondered this throughout the day (which is why I’m so late in the day posting this meditation), I came to the realization that this is a statement about what today would be called “mindfulness.” To be mindful is to be quiet, alert, aware, undistracted; to be mindful is to notice that which usually escapes notice. Those who are “rich” live in a world of distractions, a world of objects which clamor for their attention, a world of possessions which cloud one’s attention.

In that world, one cannot “enter,” that is notice and be mindful of, the kingdom of God. When Jesus made this observation, Peter asked, “Who then can be saved?” Jesus answer, again, is in the present tense: “For mortals it is impossible, but not for God; for God all things are possible.” Salvation, the kingdom of God, is not a future thing; it is for the here and now. Mindfulness is the key to entering into it.

Forgiveness and Consequences – From the Daily Office Lectionary

From the Daily Office Lectionary for Tuesday in the week of Proper 14, Year 1 (Pentecost 11, 2015)

Psalm 99:8 ~ “O Lord our God, you answered them indeed; you were a God who forgave them, yet punished them for their evil deeds.”

Each time I recite Psalm 99 from the Book of Common Prayer I find myself caught up short by this verse, by its ordering of forgiveness and punishment. One would, I think, expect something like, “You were a God who punished them, yet forgave them.” Perhaps it’s the choice of conjunction that is troublesome: “yet” seems to imply future action, punishment coming after forgiveness. An Orthodox Jewish translation of the Psalm offers a slightly different (although more ambiguous) understanding: “Thou answeredst them, Hashem Eloheinu; Thou wast El (G-d) that forgavest them, though Thou tookest vengeance of their misdeeds.” “Though” (which is also used in the Authorized Version translation) could mean either ordering of forgiveness and vengeance.

In any event, the verse catches my attention and leads me to consider whether forgiveness negates the possibility of punishment or, more broadly speaking, of consequences. I know from my own experience as a child that it does not. My parents might have forgiven me some offense, but the result of my offense, forgiveness notwithstanding, might still be a restriction of privileges in the future. More than once I can remember my mother or father saying something like, “You remember what happened last time” even though they had forgiven my infraction “last time.”

So is such forgiveness really forgiveness? Whatever happened to “forgive and forget”?

What happened was that it never ever existed! No one (and our verse suggests even God) ever forgave and forgot, nor should anyone. South African Archbishop Desmond Tutu who was intimately involved with the reconciliation process that helped bring a peaceful end to apartheid in South Africa is quoted as saying, “Forgiving is not forgetting; it’s actually remembering –remembering and not using your right to hit back. It’s a second chance for a new beginning. And the remembering part is particularly important. Especially if you don’t want to repeat what happened.”

The psalm reminds us that even though God is a God who forgives, but that God is also a God who remembers, a God in whose kingdom there are consequences. Yes, forgiving but remembering, forgiving yet allowing there to be consequences is forgiveness. It’s the only kind there really is.

Stay Salty, My Friends – From the Daily Office Lectionary

From the Daily Office Lectionary for Monday in the week of Proper 14, Year 1 (Pentecost 11, 2015)

Mark 9:50a ~ Salt is good; but if salt has lost its saltiness, how can you season it?

The Bible is full of metaphors which can be lost on modern American Christians, and this is one of them. We buy our salt (sodium chloride) in neat blue boxes from the supermarket; it’s purified, though it may be mixed with a small amount of an additive to make it run smoothly and flow freely. It may have a bit of granulated sugar added to it because pure salt is too salty for modern tastes! And it may have iodine added to it as a protection against goiter and other iodine deficiency issues; sea salt naturally contained iodine, but highly processed and refined salt does not.

This modern “pure” salt is incredibly stable and does not lose its saltiness. But salt which is mined from deposits such as one might have found in First Century Palestine is not pure. It is an amalgam of sodium chloride with other salts and minerals. If this mixture becomes wet, the sodium chloride can dissolve and leech away. The remaining substance looks the same but the salty flavor is lost and it cannot be brought back.

Followers of Jesus are called to be salty and, like that First Century salt, people are amalgams; we are not pure in any way. And we certainly can lose our “saltiness” as the dampness of life dilutes and leeches it away. What is the “saltiness” that we are meant to retain? What is the human “saltiness” that Jesus is concerned cannot be restored? I’m intrigued that one definition of “salty” is “down-to-earth” whereas the words of Jesus are so often taken to be spiritual and lofty. I’m amused that another is “coarse” in the sense of colorful, spicy, racy, risqué, naughty, vulgar, or even rude, whereas today’s Christians make a show of eschewing such behavior or language.

Time and time again the Gospels remind us that Jesus was a down-to-earth sort of guy. He want to dinner parties and wedding receptions and had a good time. He told jokes, most of which we don’t get because we’ve lost the cultural references (like the impure salt metaphor). He was condemned by the religious people for associating with sinners and was publically criticized as a “winebibber,” the quaint King James English term for “drunkard.” This all suggests to me that the “saltiness” that Jesus here speaks of is not some lofty, holy preservative of morality; it’s that down-to-earth naughtiness that makes life fun. It might be what the French call “joie de vivre.”

There’s a series of advertisements for a brand of beer in which the corporate spokesman, described in the ads as “the world’s most interesting man,” advises consumers, “Stay thirsty, my friends.” I think Jesus is even more interesting that the beer man and, in this gospel story, I see him looking into the camera, thinking of the parties and weddings he has attended and of the sinners he has befriended, saying, “Stay salty, my friends.” And he doesn’t mean “holy!”

God’s Sense of Humor – From the Daily Office Lectionary

From the Daily Office Lectionary for Friday in the week of Proper 13, Year 1 (Pentecost 10, 2015)

Acts 19:32 ~ Meanwhile, some were shouting one thing, some another; for the assembly was in confusion, and most of them did not know why they had come together.

I will only say that if ever there was evidence of God’s sense of humor, it is the coincidence of a reading with this verse in it and the aftermath of last night’s event at Quicken Loans Arena (“the Q”) in Cleveland, Ohio. (My wife insists that there are no “coincidences,” only “God-incidences.” This morning I will agree with her and, again, suggest evidence of Divine humor.)

A Weed in Your Garden? – From the Daily Office Lectionary

From the Daily Office Lectionary for Thursday in the week of Proper 13, Year 1 (Pentecost 10, 2015)

Acts 19:18-19 ~ Many of those who became believers confessed and disclosed their practices. A number of those who practiced magic collected their books and burned them publicly; when the value of these books was calculated, it was found to come to fifty thousand silver coins.

The author of Acts obviously approves of the burning of “fifty thousand silver coins” worth of books. I cringe. In this brief passage, I hear the precursor not only of the burning of banned books throughout European and North American Christian history, I hear the stirrings of the destruction of Buddhist antiquities by the Taliban and of ancient Assyrian sculptures by ISIS. I hear the early rumblings of the gathering storms of religious purity, suppression of differing viewpoints, and the murder of those who are different.

Some years ago, I was teaching an adult education class at a church in another diocese at the time of the General Convention of the Episcopal Church held in Phoenix, Arizona (July 1991). As part of the opening ceremonies of that convention, a group of Native American “smudgers” had blessed the worship space in a ritual that involves the burning of aromatic herbs and the offering of the smoke; the smudgers who participated were active members of the Episcopal Church. A participant in my adult ed class was outraged; she likened the event to one purposefully planting a noxious weed into a garden, condemning the Native American tradition as “pagan” and “satanic.” (I should note that the congregation where the course was offered was an Anglo-Catholic parish which made abundant use of incense, so I don’t think the herbal smoke, in and of itself, was the issue for this class member.)

I wondered then and I wonder now how she feels about Christmas trees, Advent wreaths, Easter eggs, and the various other pre-Christian and “pagan” practices the church has incorporated into its ritual and popular practices. (Smudging has become rather a common, though not widespread, practice in the Episcopal Church, by the way. It was incorporated into the investiture ceremony of the Most Rev. Katharine Jefferts Schori as Presiding Bishop of the Episcopal Church in 2006, and her successor as Bishop of Nevada, the Rt. Rev. Dan Edwards welcomed smudgers at his consecration; in both cases, the smudgers were active members of Nevada Native American congregations.)

We have much to learn from the rituals, ceremonies, and ritual practices of others. To the extent they are not diametrically opposed to the truths of our faith, they can enrich our spirituality. The Roman Catholic theologian Raimon Panikkar (who is of both Spanish and [east] Indian ancestry) once suggested that if Christ is the fulfillment of earlier scripture then, as the Hebrew Scriptures are read in churches in the west, perhaps the Vedas or other ancient texts should be read in the churches of India and the east. Of his own personal pilgrimage to India he wrote, “I left Europe as a Christian, I discovered I was a Hindu and returned as a Buddhist without ever having ceased to be Christian.” For such sentiments, Panikkar was expelled from the Opus Dei community and disciplined by the Vatican. I, however, find them intriguing.

My student’s outrage and Panikkar’s ecclesiastical discipline are both direct descendants of the book burning recorded in Acts. I wonder what was lost when those “fifty thousand silver coins” worth of books were burned.

You Don’t Know What You’re Asking – From the Daily Office Lectionary

From the Daily Office Lectionary for Wednesday in the week of Proper 13, Year 1 (Pentecost 10, 2015)

Mark 8:34 ~ [Jesus] called the crowd with his disciples, and said to them, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.”

Confession: I don’t really believe Jesus said this. The metaphor of “taking up the cross” would not have been something a First Century Palestinian Jew would use. Do I think Jesus said something like this? Yes, I do. I’m pretty sure that Jesus knew that following his path would be costly and that he was “straight up” with those who would join him. I believe that when the church remembered him and his words, those who told the story “read back” the cross metaphor which, because of his death and his example, had by then become current in Christian circles. So, I don’t believe Jesus said this, but I do believe he made this point.

And when he made it, I’ll bet someone said, “You don’t know what you’re asking.” We’re coming up on the beginning of the church’s “program year” which means that we’re also coming up on Father Fundraiser’s least favorite season: “stewardship campaign season.” God knows, I hate this time of year!

First of all, I hate the misuse of the word “stewardship” as a synonym for “fundraising.” It distorts what should be a year-round lifetime concern of every person. Stewardship is not fundraising; it is the care of everything we have been given so that it is not despoiled and can be passed on to those who come after us.

Second, I hate asking for money. I hated having to ask for money when I was a kid. I pretty much grew up in a single-parent household with a mother who worked hard to raise two kids. There wasn’t a lot of extra money, and I knew it. (As, as if I didn’t, I was reminded of that fact.) I still hate asking for money.

Third, I hate it when someone says, “You don’t know what you’re asking” and then proceeds to tell me all about their mortgage, their kids’ college tuition, and their medical expenses, but fails to mention their cruise in the Caribbean or their ski vacation to Colorado or their top-of-the-line, latest model SUV. Yeah, I do know what I’m asking: I’ve got a mortgage, kids who went to college, and plenty of medical expenses (and I’ve never taken a cruise, haven’t gone skiing in 30 years, and drive an eleven-year old vehicle). Besides, I’m not really asking. I hate asking for money. What I’m doing, or at least trying to do, is preaching stewardship, not fundraising.

“If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.”

“But, Jesus, you don’t know what you’re asking!”

I don’t think Jesus actually said that, but yeah, I’m pretty sure he got that response.

Only One Loaf – From the Daily Office Lectionary

From the Daily Office Lectionary for Monday in the week of Proper 13, Year 1 (Pentecost 10, 2015)

Mark 8:14 ~ Now the disciples had forgotten to bring any bread; and they had only one loaf with them in the boat.

What is it with Christians, beginning from the very first followers of Jesus? We seem to have a penchant for going off half-cocked! Even when we have direct and immediate experience that should influence us otherwise; this failure to bring bread follows almost immediately on their failure to have sufficient supplies with them when Jesus fed the 4,000, which itself followed shortly the feeding of the 5,000. You’d think they would have learned, and you’d think their successors through nearly 2,000 years of human history would have learned! But we don’t. We often begin projects without sufficient preparation.

OK. It’s not a purely Christian failing; it’s a human predisposition. Failure to prepare. Some people overcompensate for this by swinging their preparation pendulum way over to the opposite extreme; my spouse is one of these people . . . sometimes. Often when we travel she will pack twice as many clothes as she will need, but will then leave her mobile phone behind (more than one hurried return trip has been made retrieve something like that when an item’s absence has been discovered as we are half-way to the airport).

Is there an answer? Well, yes. Checklists. “He’s making a list, he’s checking it twice . . . .” I’ve heard my wife and my children singing that song under their breath as I prepare for a journey or a project. Fine, make fun of me. It works, and it’s fully in keeping with Jesus’ teaching. Remember the parable of the slave who did not prepare and whose master found him unready – Jesus promised he would “receive a severe beating.” (Lk 12:47) Or consider his question to those who would be his followers: “Which of you, intending to build a tower, does not first sit down and estimate the cost, to see whether he has enough to complete it?” (Lk 14:28)

We are, of course, to rely upon the abundant graces of God. “God will provide” is a sentiment in which more of us should trust. On the other hand, we are supposed to be stewards of God’s bounty and stewards are supposed to be people of common sense and good preparation. Setting off on a journey, undertaking a major project with only a single loaf of bread is not good stewardship!

Non-Scriptural Influences — From the Daily Office Lectionary

From the Daily Office Lectionary for Saturday in the week of Proper 12, Year 1 (Pentecost 9, 2015)

Acts 17:22-23 ~ Paul stood in front of the Areopagus and said, “Athenians, I see how extremely religious you are in every way. For as I went through the city and looked carefully at the objects of your worship, I found among them an altar with the inscription, ‘To an unknown god.’ What therefore you worship as unknown, this I proclaim to you.”

The altar window at my parish church, St. Paul’s Episcopal Church in Medina, Ohio, unlike most such windows which depict Jesus Christ in some way, shows this scene of Paul preaching to the Athenians. Paul stands in front of an ancient, columned temple; he and his listeners are dressed in togas. Paul’s audience is youthful and attentive; his elderly visage is earnest; his left arm is raised as he points upward, index finger extended. A banner across the bottom third of the window reads, “Whom therefore ye ignorantly worship, him declare I unto you.”

A dozen or more years ago, when I first entered the church’s worship space and viewed that window, my first thought was, “Why do they have a window of Socrates?” Then realization struck, “Ah, St. Paul!” Still, every time I see that window (which is now several times a week) I cannot help but notice how much the “Paul” depicted there resembles the ancient busts of Socrates; surely the stained glass artisan chose Socrates’ statues as his model.

It was, I think, a poor choice. Most historical reconstructions of Paul’s life and missionary journeys suggest that he was born in 5 CE and made this trip to Athens in 49 CE. The portrait in our window of an elderly bald European with a fringe of silver grey hair and a flowing white beard is clearly not that of a world traveling First Century Palestinian fisherman in his mid-40s. And yet this is the picture of Paul firmly placed in the minds of six generations of Medina Episcopalians (the church and window were built in 1884).

As I read Luke’s description of Paul’s witness in the Book of Acts, this window leaps unbidden to mind. How much, I wonder, of our understanding of Scripture is based on non-scriptural influences like the altar window? (The altar window is a relatively harmless example, although its depiction of Paul could be argued to foster and support a Eurocentric hegemony.) How many layers of information and misinformation filter our appreciation? And to what extent can preachers and religious educators deconstruct those inputs before endangering our listener’s faith? It’s a fine line, nearly a tightrope, that we walk, frequently unawares. The window reminds of me that.

Pray for Ali Dawabsheh – From the Daily Office Lectionary

From the Daily Office Lectionary for Friday in the week of Proper 12, Year 1 (Pentecost 9, 2015)

2 Samuel 5:6-8 ~ The king and his men marched to Jerusalem against the Jebusites, the inhabitants of the land, who said to David, “You will not come in here, even the blind and the lame will turn you back” – thinking, “David cannot come in here.” Nevertheless, David took the stronghold of Zion, which is now the city of David. David had said on that day, “Whoever wishes to strike down the Jebusites, let him get up the water shaft to attack the lame and the blind, those whom David hates.” Therefore it is said, “The blind and the lame shall not come into the house.”

This morning in Jerusalem, Jewish “Settlers” burned a Palestinian home. An 18-month-old toddler was burned to death and three other members of his family were injured. Will the Settlers claim to be acting in the tradition of David? Will the “city of peace” ever know peace? ~ The psalm says, “Pray for the peace of Jerusalem: ‘May they prosper who love you. Peace be within your walls and quietness within your towers.'” (Ps 122:6-7) Those who love Jerusalem are of many faiths, many traditions; why can’t they (we) find common ground there?

The child’s name was Ali Dawabsheh. Pray for Ali and for his family.

Police Brutality – From the Daily Office Lectionary

From the Daily Office Lectionary for Saturday in the week of Proper 12, Year 1 (Pentecost 9, 2015)

Acts 16:35-37 ~ When morning came, the magistrates sent the police, saying, “Let those men go.” And the jailer reported the message to Paul, saying, “The magistrates sent word to let you go; therefore come out now and go in peace.” But Paul replied, “They have beaten us in public, uncondemned, men who are Roman citizens, and have thrown us into prison; and now are they going to discharge us in secret? Certainly not! Let them come and take us out themselves.”

According to Wikipedia, “The term ‘police brutality’ was in use in the American press as early as 1872, when the Chicago Tribune reported on the beating of a civilian under arrest at the Harrison Street Police Station.” (Police Brutality article) The Book of Acts bears witness that harsh and cruel treatment of accused (or even un-accused) prisoners of law enforcement was not unknown in the First Century.

Just think about that for a moment.

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