Proper 24B: Shhh! Why Don’t You Let God Talk?

Waiting for God to talkOLD TESTAMENT: Job 38: 1-7, (34-41)

Read the passage from Job

Just to set the stage…

As Elihu speaks, the sky darkens. Ominous rumblings of thunder sound. Lighting rips open the sky. The cattle huddle together, heads down, tails facing into the wind. Rabbits scamper hurriedly to the deep woods. Birds flutter anxiously, twittering and chattering excitedly. Stillness hovers over the land. Dark clouds race in from the west and black out the sun.

Then lightning zigzags across the blackness and bathes the landscape in eerie whiteness. The thunder swells in volume, its reverberations shaking the earth. And then the heavens open, and the rain pours down. Tall trees bend, their branches sweeping and swishing the rain as it falls in sheets.

Job crouches on the ground. He grasps at his sackcloth, trying to pull it over his head to shield his body from the driving rain. Lightning blazes again. There is a sharp crack, then another sudden clap of thunder. Under his sackcloth, Job breathes heavily. Fear and despair clutch him. Even the brutal, uncontrollable forces of nature have turned against him now. Job cries weakly.

And then suddenly, the storm is over. The writer of Job describes what follows:

And now the light in the sky is dazzling, too bright for us to look at it; and the sky has been swept clean by the wind. A golden glow is seen in the north, and the glory of God fills us with awe. (Job 37: 21, 22)

                God is about to speak. (Mildren Tengbom, Sometimes I Hurt: Reflections on the Book of Job, (St. Louis, MO: Concordia Publishing House, 1986), 184-185.)

 

The opening line of Chapter 38, “Then the Lord answered Job out of the whirlwind,” has been prepared for by Job’s demand to see God. This whirlwind is not to be confused with a tornado or a hurricane or some other natural phenomena. It is instead a sign of God’s own appearing in human affairs—a creative, life-changing force that is undefined, perhaps not understood. You can’t hold this God down, you can’t explain this God. This God is dynamic, in motion, while our definitions are always static, trying to put God in a box, saying God is this or that. But for Job, God is a whirlwind.

            Well, finally God speaks up! (Richard Rohr interprets 38:1 as “Aw, shut up!, Job”) For almost 90% of the book, Job has begged God to intervene, implored God to speak. Now that God has, uncharacteristically chosen to speak, we are reminded of the fact that God has been present through this whole story.

In last week’s reading, Job was anxious to bring his case against God: “I would learn what he would answer me,” Job brashly declared, “and understand what he would say to me.” But God turns the tables on him. “I will question you,” God says, “you shall declare to me.” Job has longed for a sort of “Q and A” with God, but this is going very differently than that for which he hoped. God’s first question is simple. “Were you there?” Were you there when I laid the very foundations of the earth? Well, of course Job’s answer is that he was not. God goes on and ticks off all of the grandeurs of Creation. Can Job do what God does? Can Job care for creatures the way God does? And, of course, Job has to admit that he had nothing to do with any of it. In this questioning, (even beyond what we’ve read), God lists a variety of animals—lion, raven, the wild ass, the wild ox, the ostrich, the hawk and the eagle, to name a few.

The Rabbis long ago noted that, when God boasts of God’s handiwork, of all the animals God offers as evidence of divine creative genius, none of them is of any earthly use to humanity. Humanity is only a small part of the wonder of Creation. The implication is that, regardless of whether or not Job can feel God’s Presence, God is there. And God is God; Job is not. But God still treats Job with respect. There is no demand of apology or repentance. In Job, God doesn’t seem to be bothered with all the earlier rantings and arguments that have gone on. God just wants Job to realize that he is not God. Job doesn’t really receive an answer to his question of why he, or for that matter any human, has to suffer. God instead just reminds Job of the incredible Presence and providence of God. Essentially, God gives no answers. In fact, we are left with more questions! Richard Rohr points out that when the church gave us the impression that there were ready-made answers, it was doing us more harm than good.

 

After God’s great speech, Job is a changed man, but it is not the content of the speech that heals him. Rather, it is the fact that a God whom he had only heard about has now come to him personally. Theological constructs are not the source of Job’s redemption; rather, it is relationship with God that transforms his profound suffering. Job meets God and sees that the circuitous track of his life has led him through paths of joy and suffering. Best of all, Job realizes that in all things his path was held in the hand of a God who was waiting to take him in God’s arms and wipe his tears away.

Last summer I traveled to France, and visited the great cathedral at Chartres. I had heard that there was a labyrinth laid into the cathedral floor. In the Middle Ages, pilgrims would journey to the cathedral and walk the labyrinth in meditative fashion–acting out a pilgrimage to Jerusalem. They would enter the labyrinth at the outside of the circle and follow the path as it weaves in and out, around and around to the center of the circle. There are no wrong turns and no dead ends: the path always leads back to the center.

When I arrived at Chartres, I could not walk the path because chairs were set up across the floor, so I spent time praying at the entrance of the labyrinth. Soon I moved into the center of the circle. I was struck by the power of the labyrinth as an image of my life. I had journeyed 40 years to stand in the center. As I looked back over my life, I thought of all the losses, failures, mistakes and brokenness I had experienced. I thought also of the joys, gifts and treasures of my life. Through it all, the path led to the center, to a meeting place with a God who was there all along.

Is this word of hope enough for those who suffer–that in the end, wherever the path leads, it is the presence of God that heals our grief? Probably not. For the rumor of God is rarely enough to satisfy. But the meeting . . . the meeting is sweet balm for the one on an ever-circling journey to the heart of God.

The other night I dreamed that I was in Chartres: As my eyes adjust to the dim light of the cathedral, I see people walking the ancient labyrinth and join them. The circuitous path leads me through the terror and shadow of my worst fears, as well as through my most poignant joys. I reach the center, the pulsing heart of it all. Suddenly, an arm is around my waist, a hand light upon my shoulder. I look into the eyes of God. The dance begins, and we whirl and twirl in a dance of laughter and glee. How was I to know, as I moved around and around this labyrinth path, that I was fumbling toward this sweet ecstasy? We dance, God and I, a whirlwind of light. And all round us dance the daughters of Job, the sweet, beautiful daughters of Job. (Margaret B. Hess, “The Labyrinth of Life, (The Christian Century, June 4, 1997), available at http://findarticles.com/p/articles/mi_m1058/is_n19_v114/ai_19550312/, accessed 12 October, 2009.)

  1. What is your response to this passage?
  2. What does this say about God?
  3. What does this say about humanity?
  4. How do you feel about there really being no answer given? Is that always bad?

NEW TESTAMENT: Hebrews 5: 1-10

Read the passage from Hebrews

In this passage, the writer depicts an image of Jesus as a priest who we can grasp on to. Essentially, Jesus is a priest in solidarity with humanity at its most vulnerable. Our great high priest chooses to stand with the people, not above them, and from their midst renew the church and teach it once again to know God. We are reminded of God’s action in Christ and that Jesus has been exalted above all the cosmic powers.

In this culture, high priests were always appointed. Here, Jesus is portrayed as part of the order of Melchizedek. Melchizedek is mentioned twice in the Hebrew Scriptures—in Genesis and then again in Psalm 110. He was a priest of the Most High in the time of Abraham who received tithes from him. His name literally means “righteous king”. Some have claimed that these passages refer to a literal human; others claims insist that it refers to a theophany, a righteous ruler superior to the Levitical priests. This is not what we think of as an apostolic priesthood. But it is an eternal designation. So Jesus is part of this same so-called “order”. But the ministries of a priest like this must be with the people, not removed from them.

God does not want compensation; God desires one’s very life. Jesus was fully human and suffered as humans suffered. But Jesus was fully human, the very epitome of humanity. This is the way to perfection. The passage depicts Jesus as learning obedience through suffering. This is not just “doing what God says”, so to speak. It’s deeper than that. Obedience has to do with the transformation of the will such that all of life, every action, every choice, every relationship, every priority, every conversation, every work decision, everything reflects the will and values of God. God does not will us to suffer. God wills us to get through it.

 

  1. How does this passage speak to you?
  2. What does the image of Jesus in solidarity with humans mean for you?
  3. What does this say about faith?
  4. How does this speak to you about obedience?

GOSPEL: Mark 10: 35-45

Read the Gospel passage

This passage comes as Jesus is preparing to enter Jerusalem and confront the controversy that awaits him there.  For the Markan Gospel writer, this passage plays a key role in explaining Jesus’ death.  James and John request privileged places of authority in seats at Jesus’ right and left.  In doing this, they appear to have missed everything that Jesus has said and done.  They recognize that glorification awaits Jesus and they conspire to capitalize on that high honor.

Jesus’ response to them foreshadows the violence and death that await him in Jerusalem. Mark’s Gospel emphasizes that such rejection and death are inevitable and required, because of who Jesus is, because of the boundary-breaking character of his ministry, and because those who wield power in the world will do all they can to protect themselves and their agendas from what is essentially his subversive ministry. But James and John have a need for human power (ironically the same kind of power that will ultimately end Jesus’ life.) In contrast, greatness among Jesus’ followers is measured by their ability to live as servants, even if that means suffering oppression at the hands of those who wield earthly power.

Being a servant or slave is not about being subservient to Jesus, though. It is about joining with him, partnering in the ongoing act of God’s creative activity in the world. Jesus was powerful. His call to leadership was not to be without power but, rather, to redefine what power and leadership is. He came not to be served but to serve.

In the culture in which this was written, slavery was a normal thing. It was part of the social fabric and no one viewed it as necessarily a bad thing like we would today. In fact, it was considered a close relationship, so using this imagery to depict one’s relationship with God was not out of the question. And yet, James and John didn’t get this. They came essentially asking Jesus a favor. “Jesus, what can you do for me?” You will notice that, contrary to what many think Jesus represents for them, Jesus did NOT answer with “Sure, guys, anything you need…” Instead, his response was, “Well, what exactly do you want me to do for you?”

This is not unlike Job’s expectation of God. Perhaps Jesus response was more like, “Really, guys, were you there….?” We probably need to cut James and John some slack, though. After all, how much of what they are doing do we do? Perhaps they really did get it and were afraid. Perhaps, rather than seeking power, they were just seeking security. Give them credit—at least they were honest. They want badly to be like God. God is powerful. God is in control. God is there. Barbara Brown Taylor refers to it as trying to secure cabinet positions before the election is finalized. The problem is that they are assuming that the new world—the coming Kingdom—will be set up with the same rules as the old one. And one more time, Jesus tells them, “Sorry guys…that’s not the way it works.”

 

  1. What meaning does this passage hold for you?
  2. Who do you think that Jesus is addressing here—those in power or those who long for power? Is one worse than the other?
  3. What definitions of “power” exist? How does that differ with Jesus’ depiction of “power”?
  4. What “powers” do we need to let go of in our own lives in order to follow Christ?

 

Some Quotes for Further Reflection:

Grace is the light or electricity or juice or breeze that takes you from that isolated place and puts you with others who are as startled and embarrassed and eventually grateful as you are to be there. (Ann Lamott, Traveling Mercies)

Our disappointments, our lonelinesses and our defeats do not separate us from Christ; they draw us more deeply into communion with him.  And with the final unanswered cry, “Why, my God, why?” we join in [Christ’s] death cry and await with [Christ] the resurrection.  This is what faith really is:  believing, not with the head or the lips or out of habit, but believing with one’s whole life.  It means seeking community with the human Christ in every situation in life, and in every situation experiencing his own history. (Jurgen Moltmann, 1926-    )

If you read the Bible and it does not challenge you, then you are reading yourself and not the Bible. (Ernesto Tinajero, 21st century)

Closing

Give me a pure heart—that I may see Thee,

A humble heart—that I may hear Thee,

A heart of love—that I may serve Thee,

A heart of faith—that I may abide in Thee.  Amen

Dag Hammarskjold

 

Easter 3B: See What Love We Have Been Given

road_emmaus-2-300x190OLD TESTAMENT: Acts 3: 12-19

To read the Weekly Lectionary passage from Acts, click here

Previous to this passage, Peter and John, observant Jews, have gone to the Temple at the time of day when sacrifice is offered for prayer. At the gate to the temple courtyard they have seen a man lame from birth, forced to beg in order to survive. Peter has commanded him: “in the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, stand up and walk”. After helping him to his feet, the man has entered the temple with them, “walking and leaping and praising God”. “While he clung to Peter and John, all the people ran together to them.”

Now Peter preaches to the crowd. It is not by their own power or devotion (“piety”) that the man walks, but rather by God’s power, through Christ. Peter speaks as a Jew, to his own people: the titles of God are those by which God identifies himself to Moses in the burning bush (Exodus 3:6). God has “glorified” (exalted, lifted up) Jesus. Glorification stands in contrast to the actions of the unthinking mob, who “handed [him] over and rejected [him]”. “Holy and Righteous One” are messianic titles; the “murderer” is Barabbas. Jesus is “the Author of life”, the pioneer or founder of a new order, an order open to all. The healing occurred due to faith in God’s authority, “his name”, through Christ, God’s agent. Then he appeals to Israel to repent and be converted. The mob and the Jewish authorities, Peter says, “acted in ignorance”. “The prophets”, as a body – Isaiah in particular – predicted that “his Messiah would suffer”. But there is a second chance for Israel: “repent” and be converted, “turn to God” and God will wipe out their sins so that you may enjoy “times of refreshing”.

Peter is probably referring to the end of the era, when Christ comes, at “the time of universal restoration”. Peter believes that Christ is the prophet Moses said God would “raise up” those who do not listen to him will be condemned. Peter reminds his audience of God’s promise to Abraham: “in your descendants all the families of the earth shall be blessed”. Now you have to remember that this was written to a particular audience. This speech, whether or not it actually happened, is meant to shape the audience. The point is to convince the hearers that what they have been taught is right. Keep in mind, though, that the audience would have been, for the most part, Jewish. It is set within the boundaries of the temple and follows a healing. But repentance, in Jewish terms, does not really mean a confession of a personal sin to a religious figure. Sins are confessed privately in prayer to God. It is not a show of personal conversion. For these Jewish believers, full “teshuva”, or full repentance, requires full consciousness of one’s actions and the refraining from the sin that one has committed. Interestingly, though, it doesn’t illicit a real response, but rather gets Peter and John arrested.

What does this mean for us? What does this study of Acts hold for us in today’s world? What does it mean to be a new creation?

 

  1. What is your response to this passage?
  2. What meaning does it hold for you?
  3. What does repentance, or recognition of our sins, have to do with our faith?
  4. In what ways might this passage be abused?

 

 

NEW TESTAMENT: 1 John 3: 1-7

To read the Weekly Lectionary Epistle passage, click here

This passage deals with the questions: What does it mean to be children of God? What does that mean to other people? What does it mean to be like Jesus? The notion that we are God’s children implies that there is something in the future for us, something different from the way things are now. When Jesus appears, we will look at him and it will be a transforming experience. The writer of this passage is saying that our hope is to become like Christ in the future and our challenge is to become like Christ now.

At its simplest, the passage is saying to do what we say. People become what they look at, so our focus does matter. By focusing on Christ, we become those for whom sinning is not an option. Essentially, it makes us really look at what it means to have Jesus in our lives.

The most problematic part of this text is the claim made in verse 6 that those who “abide in him” do not sin. (Really?) It is difficult to understand how this is not a blatant contradiction to much of the rest of the biblical witness, and even to what 1 John says elsewhere (see 1:8-2:2). Some have suggested that the present tense of the verb “sins” in verse 6 indicates that the author is denying only a constant habit of sinning. While the author of 1 John would certainly consider habitual sinning to be out of bounds for those who claim to be God’s children, the verse cannot be tamed quite so easily. Are we to imagine that the author is willing to excuse occasional sins?

 

  1. What meaning does this passage hold for you?
  2. What does it mean to be children of God?
  3. What does that mean to other people?
  4. What does it mean to have Jesus in your life? What does that call for you to do that is different from the rest of the world?

 

 

GOSPEL: Luke 24: 36b-48

To read the Lectionary Gospel passage, click here

This is one of our favorite stories. In other lectionary years, we read more of the passage. We travel to the elusive place known as Emmaus and we encounter a little-known disciple named Cleopas and some other elusive character. Jesus appears on the road to two people and walks with them and then reveals his real identity to them. It is later on Easter Day, the day on which Mary Magdalene and the other women have discovered the empty tomb. As two of Jesus’ followers walk to Emmaus, they talk about the day’s news, the recent startling events. They are surely despondent, not knowing where to turn.

Eusebius, the first church historian, tells us that “Cleopas” was a relative of Jesus. (Perhaps this is Uncle Cleopas or something!) The two do not recognize our Lord Jesus.   Jesus has disappointed them: they expected him to deliver Israel from Roman domination, and to begin an earthly kingdom of God. Three days have passed (long enough, in Jewish belief, for the soul to have left the body) and, despite Jesus’ statement that he would be raised from death, nothing has happened! The women told us that he is alive, but when Peter and John went there, all they saw was the empty tomb!

Jesus tells them how slow they are to grasp what has happened. The meal seems to be a Eucharist: “he took bread, blessed and broke it””. Then, from Jesus’ interpretation and their hospitality to this “stranger”, “their eyes were opened”,i.e. they develop a deeper understanding of who Jesus is, that he is divine. At the Last Supper, Jesus said he would not share food with his disciples until God’s kingdom came. He has now eaten with the two, so the Kingdom has indeed come. “The Lord has risen indeed … !”

But the truth was, they invited the stranger to dine. They invited the stranger into their lives. This is the dramatic proof that Jesus had arisen from the dead. And this was not a random event. God had done this. Notice one thing—the name of the second person is never given. Who is it? Is it a disciple? Is it someone you know? Is it you?

This story celebrates Easter and invites participation. William Loeder calls it a “faith legend”. We are invited to imagine that Jesus materializes and then just as suddenly dematerializes. What happened to us in between? In all honesty, we never hear of Cleopas again and we don’t even know who his companion is. They are ordinary people on the road to ordinary places who had the grand adventure of encountering Jesus. And now they go home. The road to Emmaus—probably a two hour walk—is a story of the Christian life. Frederick Buechner interprets Emmaus as “the place we go to in order to escape—a bar, a movie, wherever it is we throw up our hands and say, “Let the whole damned thing go hang. It makes no difference anyway,”…Emmaus may be buying a new [outfit] or a new car or smoking more cigarettes [or eating] more than you really want, or reading a second-rate novel or even writing one. Emmaus may be going to church on Sunday. Emmaus is whatever we do or wherever we go to make ourselves forget that the world holds nothing sacred: that even the wisest and bravest and loveliest decay and die; that even the noblest ideas that men have had—ideas about love and freedom and justice—have always in time been twisted out of shape by selfish [people] for selfish ends.”[i]

It is the road from disappointment, despair, and disillusionment. The unseen stranger is always walking with us. And, in fact, the implication is that we are the other disciple. And Jesus appears in both places—the place that we go to retreat from the world and on the road itself. Jesus appears in the ordinary and the sacred; in the mundane and in the special. And if we don’t recognize the presence of the Risen Christ, the presence waits around until we do.

 

  1. What meaning does this passage hold for you?
  2. What would you have thought had it been you on that road?
  3. What does it mean for you to be the second disciple?
  4. In what ways do we fail to recognize Jesus?
  5. What does this passage say to us about hospitality?
  6. How aware are you of the holiness dancing in and out of your awareness? What gets in your way?

 

 

Some Quotes for Further Reflection:

 

If the doors of perception were cleansed, everything would be seen as it is. (William Blake)

 

Some people, in order to discover God, read books. But there is a great book: the very appearance of creating things. Look above you! Look below you! Read it. God, whom you want to discover, never wrote that book with ink. Instead [God] set before your eyes that things that [God] made. Can you ask for a louder voice than that? (St. Augustine of Hippo, 5th century)

 

For lack of attention, a thousand forms of loveliness elude us every day. (Evelyn Underhill)

 

 

Closing

 

God, you call us to leave our comfortable ways, to sing new and unfamiliar songs. You ask us to invite absolute strangers into your house even though we feel awkward. We are slow to do what you ask…Lead us on a new path, your path. When we hesitate, stumble, and even reverse direction, reach back—grasp our hands—pull us forward. And when we start to grow deaf to your voice, call out to us—bellow out to us. Make us hear. Overwhelm us with your love. Surround us with your peace so that we have no choice but to share it with those you have put into our lives. Amen. (Deborah Bushfield, from “God of Risk”, in Alive Now, May/June 2009, p. 38)

[i] In The New Interpreter’s Bible: A Commentary in Twelve Volumes, Volume IX, Luke & John, p. 482.