After a week in Cincinnati with our high school youth, we are back on track with Paul in his letter to the Romans. We are steadily making our way through and are now in Romans 8.26-39. This portion of the letter is read in conjunction with the gospel, Matthew 13.31-33, 45-52. In reading these two passages, I am struck by two things. Firstly, in Romans, we are reminded of how God's love for creation trumps all else. Secondly, in Matthew, we are reminded several times of the surprises of the kingdom of heaven.
The surprises about God's kingdom are many, according to these parables from Matthew. They are like a mustard seed that someone planted - now mustard is considered a weed and I don't know anyone who purposely plants weeds. In addition, mustard plants are not the greatest of all shrubs and birds can't make their nests there, like Jesus said. Surprise #1. The woman who took yeast and leavened 3 measures of flour is a surprise because in the Old Testament leavening is talked about as an evil or corrupt act, not something one would consider to be part of the kingdom of heaven. Surprise #2. Skipping to verse 47, the kingdom is like a net thrown into the sea that gathers all sorts of fish, good and bad together. Here I thought the kingdom was going to be all good. Surprise #3.
Now, pausing for a moment and stepping into Romans, we read that nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus. Nothing. Now I don't like to admit this, but I have in my mind a certain 'type' of person who will be in the kingdom of heaven, and what the kingdom of heaven will be like. That's not to say I go around pointing at people in my head saying, "In. Not in. In. Definitely not in..." It's a lot more subtle, and sadly, a lot more shallow. Snap, quick, judgements that deny a person their identity as a beloved child of God and instead label them in one way or another. Or I think to myself, "If I can't laugh in heaven then I don't want to go there."
Based on the Matthew and Romans readings, I have a feeling that I'm in for a really big surprise. If the kingdom of heaven has both good fish and bad fish? Or if it's like a weed?? Personally, I find weeds rather annoying. Plus, Jesus came proclaiming that the kingdom of heaven has already come near. That means that it's not some pie-in-the-sky dream, but that it's right here, right now. Our Romans text is a particularly popular text at funerals because it reminds us that even death cannot separate us from God's love, however, I think that this text is just as important (if not more so) today than some unknown time in the future.
These texts have kept me pondering all week what exactly the kingdom of heaven is like. If it's like a weed, then it keeps sprouting up exactly where I least expect or want it. If it's like the leavening, it's something totally the opposite of what I think. If it's like the net with all the good fish and bad fish, then there are parts of the kingdom that I wouldn't have thought belonged. So, basically, the kingdom of heaven is unlike anything I thought. Thankfully for me, even my judgements can't separate me from God's love. My judgements may prevent me from seeing the kingdom, but they certainly don't put me outside God's love or God's kingdom. For us Lutherans we are assured of this each morning when we rise as baptized children of God - God has named and claimed us, so that nothing we do, say, think, or feel can put us outside of God's reach.
Thinking in this way, I wonder how often I miss seeing God's kingdom because it is not what I expect? How many opportunities have I missed God's kingdom because I was looking for what I wanted, not what God wants for all of creation? And, the biggest mystery of all leaves me pondering, What is the kingdom?
21 July 2011
07 July 2011
For what (or whom) has God freed me today?
The Romans texts continue this Sunday with Romans 8.1-11 and Paul's discussion of life in the Spirit. Paul's argument of life in the flesh versus life in the Spirit is founded on the assertion that we are not in the flesh, but in the Spirit (v9). We know that the Spirit of God dwells in us because of the promises God made to us in the waters of baptism, namely that after baptism in the name of the Triune God we are sealed with the Holy Spirit and marked with the cross of Christ. God is faithful to God's promises, and because we are in the Spirit (not in the flesh) we are free from the law of sin and death.
Free from the law of sin and death is certainly not a freedom from the struggle with sin, as all of us know every moment of every day! It is, however, a freedom from the sentence of death and judgment on the last day. So it is clear that in Christ we are freed from our sin and the death that certainly arises as a result of it, and that instead we are given in exchange the gift of forgiveness, peace, freedom, and eternal life. It is pretty clear what we are freed from. It is not so clear, however, just what we are freed for.
One of my professors at seminary had a favorite saying: freed from and freed for. We are freed from our sin and freed for service to neighbor. Knowing that we no longer need to worry about the wrongs we have done, we live in the freedom of Christ so that we can continue to carry out Christ's mission to the world: bringing God's love to all. Christ brought God's love through proclaiming the good news of God's kingdom and by serving. Six of our high schoolers and two adults will travel this next week to Cincinnati in order to serve the neighbor. We will sleep at a church in Batavia, Ohio, and travel from there to different service sites. We know that God goes before us and that we will meet Christ in those we serve just as much (if not more) than we will bring Christ to others. We will serve and be served, free from all that binds us in our daily lives.
Even knowing that we are freed from sin in order to serve others, I continue to daily live the mystery: for what (or whom) has God freed me today?
Free from the law of sin and death is certainly not a freedom from the struggle with sin, as all of us know every moment of every day! It is, however, a freedom from the sentence of death and judgment on the last day. So it is clear that in Christ we are freed from our sin and the death that certainly arises as a result of it, and that instead we are given in exchange the gift of forgiveness, peace, freedom, and eternal life. It is pretty clear what we are freed from. It is not so clear, however, just what we are freed for.
One of my professors at seminary had a favorite saying: freed from and freed for. We are freed from our sin and freed for service to neighbor. Knowing that we no longer need to worry about the wrongs we have done, we live in the freedom of Christ so that we can continue to carry out Christ's mission to the world: bringing God's love to all. Christ brought God's love through proclaiming the good news of God's kingdom and by serving. Six of our high schoolers and two adults will travel this next week to Cincinnati in order to serve the neighbor. We will sleep at a church in Batavia, Ohio, and travel from there to different service sites. We know that God goes before us and that we will meet Christ in those we serve just as much (if not more) than we will bring Christ to others. We will serve and be served, free from all that binds us in our daily lives.
Even knowing that we are freed from sin in order to serve others, I continue to daily live the mystery: for what (or whom) has God freed me today?
01 July 2011
Why did I do that?
Have you ever found yourself, milliseconds after doing something, wondering why you did it? Perhaps it is as innocent as taking that last bite of the dessert that you swore you would leave half of, or maybe even as hurtful words are coming out of your mouth you think "I shouldn't say this," but it is as it you are compelled and you just can't stop. In our Romans reading for this week Paul asks the same question. The theme of sinning continues from last week in Romans 7.15-25a as Paul states, "I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate." He was a human being just like us, and and he strove to live a better life in Christ only to be disappointed in himself over and over again.
As Christians this is our struggle while we are still on earth, the struggle between the devil on the one shoulder and the angel on the other shoulder, as so many cartoons depict it - the part of us that loves to do the wrong thing, even when the other part of us knows it's a bad decision. So are we helpless to forever listen to the devil on the one shoulder? Thankfully, the answer to that is a resounding NO!
Paul wondered the same thing, which is why our reading ends, "Who will rescue me from this body of death? Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord!" As I ponder Paul's words, I sometimes think that perhaps the biggest sin that gets me over and over again is that I don't really believe Jesus can help me. I know that God has transformed me in Jesus in the waters of baptism, but I don't really believe it. I often just throw my hands up in exasperation and give in to the hopelessness that I will never be better and will forever be stuck in my brokenness.
What a crisis of faith! To think that as Christians we, for the most part, don't really believe Christ has the power to change the world one person at a time? Isn't that God's mission in Christ? Isn't that why we proclaim Christ's love to others? Isn't that why we baptize and teach? (Of course there is the after-death component, which is lovely, but doesn't help us much in the mean time.) But once again, thanks be to God through Jesus Christ that he comes to our rescue. In our moment of faith crisis, just when we have given up hope that life in Christ could be any different, we hear Christ's words to us, "Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest." What better words to offer comfort than the open invitation from Christ? Perhaps it is just at the moment of hopelessness that Christ can best speak to us, since when we think we can do it on our own we have no need for help therefore we have no need for Christ. Until we come to the moment of grace when we come to fully understand our inability to live a Christian life on our own, without Christ's power and mercy, we continue to beat ourselves up and live in the mystery asking over and over, "Why did I do that?"
As Christians this is our struggle while we are still on earth, the struggle between the devil on the one shoulder and the angel on the other shoulder, as so many cartoons depict it - the part of us that loves to do the wrong thing, even when the other part of us knows it's a bad decision. So are we helpless to forever listen to the devil on the one shoulder? Thankfully, the answer to that is a resounding NO!
Paul wondered the same thing, which is why our reading ends, "Who will rescue me from this body of death? Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord!" As I ponder Paul's words, I sometimes think that perhaps the biggest sin that gets me over and over again is that I don't really believe Jesus can help me. I know that God has transformed me in Jesus in the waters of baptism, but I don't really believe it. I often just throw my hands up in exasperation and give in to the hopelessness that I will never be better and will forever be stuck in my brokenness.
What a crisis of faith! To think that as Christians we, for the most part, don't really believe Christ has the power to change the world one person at a time? Isn't that God's mission in Christ? Isn't that why we proclaim Christ's love to others? Isn't that why we baptize and teach? (Of course there is the after-death component, which is lovely, but doesn't help us much in the mean time.) But once again, thanks be to God through Jesus Christ that he comes to our rescue. In our moment of faith crisis, just when we have given up hope that life in Christ could be any different, we hear Christ's words to us, "Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest." What better words to offer comfort than the open invitation from Christ? Perhaps it is just at the moment of hopelessness that Christ can best speak to us, since when we think we can do it on our own we have no need for help therefore we have no need for Christ. Until we come to the moment of grace when we come to fully understand our inability to live a Christian life on our own, without Christ's power and mercy, we continue to beat ourselves up and live in the mystery asking over and over, "Why did I do that?"
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