The gospel this week continues right where left off last week, Matthew 16.21-28. As a reminder, Peter has just correctly identified Jesus as the Messiah, the Son of God. It was a moment of hope for the disciples who are constantly getting things wrong - but it was only a moment. We read this week that while Peter had the correct title, his understanding of what that title meant was a little off base.
It would seem that from Peter's vehement rebuke of Jesus' proclamation of what must happen, his idea of Messiah was different from Jesus'. At the time, many Jews were waiting for the Messiah - the Anointed One - but so was the rest of the Roman Empire. You see, under an oppressive and unjust regime most people were hoping for political salvation from the Romans, and it was said that the one to save them would be the Messiah. Peter was just reflecting the beliefs of his culture and time, much like many of us would like to be saved from the political and economic mess our own country is in. But that was not the Messiah that Christ was.
What Messiah would be born of such humble and low beginnings as one born in a stable to an unwed mother who had no wealth? Certainly not a political messiah. No, Jesus the Messiah, the son of the living God was a different sort of savior and he began to show them exactly what sort of savior that was. Jesus was the Messiah who would undergo suffering and death. Jesus was the Messiah who had followers that also must take up their crosses and deny themselves. This was obviously not what Peter expected, because the one who just moments prior had actually gotten it right was now called Satan by Jesus.
For us followers of Christ today, I wonder where we, like Peter, get it wrong and misunderstand Christ's death and resurrection? Where do we forget to take up our own crosses and deny ourselves for the sake of following Jesus? I must say that in my own life I have experienced more times than I can remember the unexpected nature of God's grace. Times and places where I would least expect, there, is God. In fact just this week I was at the hospital and had the privilege of being with a family as their father died. One of the family members asked if she could say a prayer, and none of us minded; except her prayer was going on, and on, and on... I kept looking around the room and noticing how the rest of the family was so uncomfortable. I kept watching the heart rate monitor as the life of this man slipped away. And I kept looking at this woman wishing she would just say amen! In fact, I was getting rather angry with her, that she could be so selfish as to be speaking and missing the last precious moments with this man. Except then came God's surprise. The second she (finally) said 'amen', the man's heart rate went to zero. The exact minute. And I was dumbfounded. If it had been up to me, I would have muzzled this woman, and yet, somehow, in the midst of every one's grief, sorrow, and discomfort with her agonizingly long prayer, God was there.
This encounter has left me pondering one of the mysteries from this text: Where else have I, like Peter, missed out on God's mission because of my own expectations?
25 August 2011
18 August 2011
Who do I say that I am?
Our gospel lesson for Sunday comes from Matthew 16.13-20. This is a pivotal passage in Matthew's gospel in a couple of ways. First, it is the first time Jesus is proclaimed to be the Messiah. Second, it is the turning point in Jesus' focus; from here on out he is making his way back to Jerusalem to be crucified. The passage begins with Jesus asking who people say he is. I love this encounter because I think it shows the human side of Jesus really well. Who doesn't want to know what other people think of them? Aren't we all a little curious as to how we are perceived? So Jesus just asks up front, "Who do people say that I am?" It is an interesting question. Think about the last time someone asked, "Who's that?" How did you respond? My guess is that you identified them either by who their family is, by what they do for a living, or by how you know them. For instance, at the farmer's market yesterday I met someone for the first time but she had heard of me. "Oh, you're the minister!" was her response.
So often we are identified by what we do, and that is not necessarily untrue of Peter's declaration when Jesus asks, 'who do you say that I am?' Peter identifies Jesus by who he is: the Messiah, the son of the Living God. Jesus, savior, Emmanuel - God with us, is who he is because of what he does. Peter, on the other hand, is simply that: Peter. Right after Peter declares who Jesus is, his own identity is affirmed. He is not defined by what he does, or by whose son he is, his identity comes directly from the fact that Jesus is God's son. And that is the foundation of the whole church - Jesus' identity as the Messiah of the nations, the savior, God's son, God-with-us.
In a world where people and churches are defined by what they do or by whose family they are part of, Jesus' declaration that none of that matters is part of what it means to be loosed (v 19). The same is true of churches - churches are defined by what programs they have, what kind of worship they offer, who the members are, etc., but Peter's declaration and Jesus' affirmation looses us from these identities and give us a new one: people and church in Christ. Since who we are stems from the fact that Jesus is the Messiah, we are freed from worrying about everything! We no longer have to worry about how people perceive us, or what sort of vocation we have, or what type of church we go to, or what political party we affiliate with, or...
The heart of your very existence is that Jesus is the Son of the living God, a God who wants to be involved with your every moment of life, a God who sent a savior to loose you from all that binds you, to save you. No longer do you have to worry about following the 'rules' that everyone seems to think are part of what it means to be Christian. Jesus, God made flesh, savior of the nations, has set you free! No wonder Peter spoke up so bravely when Jesus asked. It is hard to keep such a wonderful gift under wraps.
Now verse 20 can be perplexing given what I just said. Jesus sternly ordered them not to tell anyone. If we read this verse in the context of the whole passage, Jesus knew it wasn't yet time for people to receive the message that he was God's son. He still needed to make it all the way back to Jerusalem before he could be crucified, and I think he was smart enough to know that people wouldn't be very happy if he went around saying he was God's Messiah, the savior of the world. This command not to tell people must be held in tension with Jesus' final words to his disciples in Matthew 28.18-20, when he commands us to make disciples of all nations, baptizing and teaching them. Jesus has already died and risen, Jesus has already set us free, and this is a message that ought to be shouted from every street corner, at every kitchen table, and in every workplace. We have been loosed! We are seen only in Christ, our savior, God with us.
This is great news, and it nearly makes me bubble over with joy, but it still leaves me wondering: who do I say that I am?
So often we are identified by what we do, and that is not necessarily untrue of Peter's declaration when Jesus asks, 'who do you say that I am?' Peter identifies Jesus by who he is: the Messiah, the son of the Living God. Jesus, savior, Emmanuel - God with us, is who he is because of what he does. Peter, on the other hand, is simply that: Peter. Right after Peter declares who Jesus is, his own identity is affirmed. He is not defined by what he does, or by whose son he is, his identity comes directly from the fact that Jesus is God's son. And that is the foundation of the whole church - Jesus' identity as the Messiah of the nations, the savior, God's son, God-with-us.
In a world where people and churches are defined by what they do or by whose family they are part of, Jesus' declaration that none of that matters is part of what it means to be loosed (v 19). The same is true of churches - churches are defined by what programs they have, what kind of worship they offer, who the members are, etc., but Peter's declaration and Jesus' affirmation looses us from these identities and give us a new one: people and church in Christ. Since who we are stems from the fact that Jesus is the Messiah, we are freed from worrying about everything! We no longer have to worry about how people perceive us, or what sort of vocation we have, or what type of church we go to, or what political party we affiliate with, or...
The heart of your very existence is that Jesus is the Son of the living God, a God who wants to be involved with your every moment of life, a God who sent a savior to loose you from all that binds you, to save you. No longer do you have to worry about following the 'rules' that everyone seems to think are part of what it means to be Christian. Jesus, God made flesh, savior of the nations, has set you free! No wonder Peter spoke up so bravely when Jesus asked. It is hard to keep such a wonderful gift under wraps.
Now verse 20 can be perplexing given what I just said. Jesus sternly ordered them not to tell anyone. If we read this verse in the context of the whole passage, Jesus knew it wasn't yet time for people to receive the message that he was God's son. He still needed to make it all the way back to Jerusalem before he could be crucified, and I think he was smart enough to know that people wouldn't be very happy if he went around saying he was God's Messiah, the savior of the world. This command not to tell people must be held in tension with Jesus' final words to his disciples in Matthew 28.18-20, when he commands us to make disciples of all nations, baptizing and teaching them. Jesus has already died and risen, Jesus has already set us free, and this is a message that ought to be shouted from every street corner, at every kitchen table, and in every workplace. We have been loosed! We are seen only in Christ, our savior, God with us.
This is great news, and it nearly makes me bubble over with joy, but it still leaves me wondering: who do I say that I am?
11 August 2011
Do I practice what I preach?
The gospel lesson for Sunday is a scene from Matthew where Jesus teaches and then encounters a Canaanite woman. It comes from Matthew 15.10-28, although verses 10-20 are optional for us to read. I however, think that the two go together hand in hand and so have decided to do the whole thing. The teaching comes as a response to the Pharisees' question to Jesus about why his disciples break the tradition by not washing before they eat. Jesus explains (I imagine with a little bit of frustration, based on verse 9, which wasn't included in the lectionary) that it isn't what goes in to a body but what comes out that defiles; it is not following the laws of cleanliness or not, but the heart that makes one unclean. He then goes on walking and encounters a woman, a Canaanite who is unclean because she's a) a woman and b) a foreigner.
I find this text rather perplexing because it seems like either Jesus is testing the woman to see how strong her faith is, or he doesn't really understand the extent of his teaching and the woman is pushing Jesus to recognize the implications of what he teaches. My theology has a hard time believing that Jesus is testing the woman's faith. First of all, faith is a gift given by the Holy Spirit, and second of all, Peter has just walked on water right after Jesus called him 'Little Faith'. Peter didn't even believe it was Jesus to begin with and this woman begins her request calling Jesus 'Lord' so if faith is at test here the woman has already won.
That leaves the other option - Jesus has just taught about what makes one unclean versus clean and he doesn't understand his own teaching. That leaves me a little unsettled. We do believe that Jesus was human, but was he that human? That he didn't understand the implications of his own teaching? It would seem that the Canaanite woman understood even better than Jesus that God sent him for the whole world, not just for Israel. Her insistence that even though Jesus may have initially come for Israel but he is God's gift for the world is humbling. She acknowledges that even a little of Jesus' favor and mercy, like the crumbs that fall on the floor for dogs, is better than nothing and I am humbled and a bit awed by her brazen faith that takes her beyond social boundaries into a place of healing and wholeness.
We all live in social boundaries, although, as I just read in 'The Help' by Kathryn Stockett, those boundaries are all made up by us humans and they are meant to divide and destroy. This Canaanite woman's request for Jesus to heal her daughter proves that these lines really are imaginary and that Christ's mercy is bigger than any social barrier or unwritten rule. Jesus preached this by saying it is what comes from within that defiles, though it was a teaching that even he had a hard time putting into practice. I have nothing but respect for this woman who so desperately wanted her daughter healed, and as I stand in the story of faith with her, I am left wondering...
Do I practice what I preach?
I find this text rather perplexing because it seems like either Jesus is testing the woman to see how strong her faith is, or he doesn't really understand the extent of his teaching and the woman is pushing Jesus to recognize the implications of what he teaches. My theology has a hard time believing that Jesus is testing the woman's faith. First of all, faith is a gift given by the Holy Spirit, and second of all, Peter has just walked on water right after Jesus called him 'Little Faith'. Peter didn't even believe it was Jesus to begin with and this woman begins her request calling Jesus 'Lord' so if faith is at test here the woman has already won.
That leaves the other option - Jesus has just taught about what makes one unclean versus clean and he doesn't understand his own teaching. That leaves me a little unsettled. We do believe that Jesus was human, but was he that human? That he didn't understand the implications of his own teaching? It would seem that the Canaanite woman understood even better than Jesus that God sent him for the whole world, not just for Israel. Her insistence that even though Jesus may have initially come for Israel but he is God's gift for the world is humbling. She acknowledges that even a little of Jesus' favor and mercy, like the crumbs that fall on the floor for dogs, is better than nothing and I am humbled and a bit awed by her brazen faith that takes her beyond social boundaries into a place of healing and wholeness.
We all live in social boundaries, although, as I just read in 'The Help' by Kathryn Stockett, those boundaries are all made up by us humans and they are meant to divide and destroy. This Canaanite woman's request for Jesus to heal her daughter proves that these lines really are imaginary and that Christ's mercy is bigger than any social barrier or unwritten rule. Jesus preached this by saying it is what comes from within that defiles, though it was a teaching that even he had a hard time putting into practice. I have nothing but respect for this woman who so desperately wanted her daughter healed, and as I stand in the story of faith with her, I am left wondering...
Do I practice what I preach?
03 August 2011
How is God calling you out of the boat?
August is here, back-to-school sales are running, and I even saw some Halloween candy in the store yesterday (yes, those peeps consumed in October have been sitting packaged since August...). The summer is finally starting to feel like summer and not some foretaste of a fiery afterlife, the vacations are coming to a close, and schedules are getting set for the start of a new program year.
In many ways, it feels like New Years - many more new things start in September than in January. (And these new things usually end up sticking, unlike those New Years' resolutions!) Fall activities like sports, arts, and other extra-curricular events are already on the calendar. Sunday School, confirmation, and weekly worship are back on the schedule as a weekly event. At St. John we have a couple of new things on our calendar - WoW, or Worship on Wednesdays, each Wednesday from 6:00-6:40, and the after school program each week on Tuesdays from 3:00-5:30. The random, somewhat chaotic schedule of summer is giving way to the methodical, even more chaotic schedule of fall.
And in the midst of this transition we are met with our gospel lesson. We are continuing from last week with Matthew 14.22-33, and we meet a tired and worn out Jesus who finally gets some time alone to grieve, pray, and rest. He sends the crowds away satisfied, he sends the disciples away in the boat, and takes the night for himself, only to find the boat far off shore in the morning. It is the well-known story about Peter who gets out of the boat when Jesus commands him. He actually walks on water! But when he notices that he's doing something quite miraculous and the wind is howling around him he begins to sink and Jesus saves him. Jesus also asks, "You of little faith, why did you doubt?"
"You of little faith" sounds like Jesus is telling Peter he has a little amount of faith, but there is a little something lost in translation here. Instead of it being a statement on the amount of faith Peter actually has, it is in reality a term of endearment and would be translated more like, "Little Faith, why did you doubt?" Jesus also uses this term three other times in Matthew's gospel (6.30, 8.26, and 16.8) as a pet name for the disciples. It is, in my opinion, Jesus' way of reminding the disciples that they already have all the faith they need and that Jesus works through them just as they are, no strings attached, no ifs, ands, or buts.
We are the same as Peter. Each day is an opportunity for Jesus to do miraculous things through us. We may not walk on water in the middle of a storm, but God's miracles happen through us every moment, little signs of God's tremendous grace that together add up to show that God's hand is in all parts of our life. It is God working in us 'Little Faiths' each time we take a breath and think before we say something hurtful. It is God working in us each time we carve out the 10 minutes it takes to read our daily devotion, or quiet ourselves in prayer. It is God working in us as we live out our faith at work - maybe you don't curse or swear, maybe you love unconditionally, maybe you even talk about your faith or how God has made a difference in your life.
Each day is an opportunity for God to work in and through you, just as Jesus used Peter to do a miracle, so God uses you to show God's power and love in the world. And, just as Peter, Little Faith, got out of the boat, so God is encouraging you to get out of the boat. The mystery of all this is, how is God calling you out of the boat?
In many ways, it feels like New Years - many more new things start in September than in January. (And these new things usually end up sticking, unlike those New Years' resolutions!) Fall activities like sports, arts, and other extra-curricular events are already on the calendar. Sunday School, confirmation, and weekly worship are back on the schedule as a weekly event. At St. John we have a couple of new things on our calendar - WoW, or Worship on Wednesdays, each Wednesday from 6:00-6:40, and the after school program each week on Tuesdays from 3:00-5:30. The random, somewhat chaotic schedule of summer is giving way to the methodical, even more chaotic schedule of fall.
And in the midst of this transition we are met with our gospel lesson. We are continuing from last week with Matthew 14.22-33, and we meet a tired and worn out Jesus who finally gets some time alone to grieve, pray, and rest. He sends the crowds away satisfied, he sends the disciples away in the boat, and takes the night for himself, only to find the boat far off shore in the morning. It is the well-known story about Peter who gets out of the boat when Jesus commands him. He actually walks on water! But when he notices that he's doing something quite miraculous and the wind is howling around him he begins to sink and Jesus saves him. Jesus also asks, "You of little faith, why did you doubt?"
"You of little faith" sounds like Jesus is telling Peter he has a little amount of faith, but there is a little something lost in translation here. Instead of it being a statement on the amount of faith Peter actually has, it is in reality a term of endearment and would be translated more like, "Little Faith, why did you doubt?" Jesus also uses this term three other times in Matthew's gospel (6.30, 8.26, and 16.8) as a pet name for the disciples. It is, in my opinion, Jesus' way of reminding the disciples that they already have all the faith they need and that Jesus works through them just as they are, no strings attached, no ifs, ands, or buts.
We are the same as Peter. Each day is an opportunity for Jesus to do miraculous things through us. We may not walk on water in the middle of a storm, but God's miracles happen through us every moment, little signs of God's tremendous grace that together add up to show that God's hand is in all parts of our life. It is God working in us 'Little Faiths' each time we take a breath and think before we say something hurtful. It is God working in us each time we carve out the 10 minutes it takes to read our daily devotion, or quiet ourselves in prayer. It is God working in us as we live out our faith at work - maybe you don't curse or swear, maybe you love unconditionally, maybe you even talk about your faith or how God has made a difference in your life.
Each day is an opportunity for God to work in and through you, just as Jesus used Peter to do a miracle, so God uses you to show God's power and love in the world. And, just as Peter, Little Faith, got out of the boat, so God is encouraging you to get out of the boat. The mystery of all this is, how is God calling you out of the boat?
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