Jesus overturns the moneychangers' tables in the Temple courts and starts a stampede of sheep and cattle waiting to be bought with pure, image-less coins so that worshipers can sacrifice the unblemished animals as a worship offering to God. Before Jesus became OUR Temple, this was a sacrificial system that had been tarnished with corruption. Read Jesus' dramatic whip-dance in John 2: 13-22.
Although our sanctuary lobbies no longer have sheep and cattle milling around, I wonder which of our automatic-pilot rituals and prayers Jesus would overturn? Do we worship with our minds on other things instead of focusing on God and neighbor in our worship? The Ten Commandments in Exodus 20: 1-17 offer us a different way to dance as God's partner not only in worship, but in all of life. Rather than a list of "you shalt-nots" the Ten Commandments are the dance steps we learn in order to live into God's presence fully and freely.
Using a summary from Feasting on the Word, Year B, Vol 2, p 76, 78, by Craig Kocher, the life-giving possibilities of the Ten Commandments are: "No other gods before me" means money, sex, and power cannot dance as idols onto our altars. Instead of taking the Lord's name in vain, we honor, praise and give thanks to God for the gifts of the dance. When we keep sabbath we remember that all creation is a gift and our responsibility is to steward it wisely. When we honor our parents we remember that we stand on the shoulders of others because we are not independent or self made. When we say no to murder, we acknowledge that people bear God's image to and for us. When we refuse to lie, steal, or covet we build up community by speaking the truth of and to our neighbors.
When we dance freely with God and with our neighbor, we commit ourselves to the two greatest commandments: Love God with all our heart/mind/soul and love our neighbor as ourselves. God welcomes us to the dancefloor of our community.
Grace and Peace,
Pastor Shelley
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
Thursday, March 1, 2012
What's in a Name?
The Bible has different take on "what's in a name." When God re-names Abram to Abraham and changes Sarai's name to Sarah, it is to signify the everlasting covenant that God makes with this faithful but barren couple in their 90's. God says to them in Genesis 17: 1-7, 15-16: "You shall be the ancestor of a multitude of nations." (NRSV, v 4b) God too claims a new name for Godself: El Shaddai - God of the mountains - the One who created heavens and earth - God of the highest mountains and the lowest valleys - God of all creation. In this second covenant of the Hebrew Bible, El Shaddai blesses Abraham and Sarah with the promise of a child and the royal promise that Abraham and Sarah's descendants will forever be God's people."What's in a name? That which we call a rose - By any other name would smell as sweet," Juliet says to her star-crossed lover, Romeo. Here Juliet tells Romeo that a name is an artificial, meaningless convention, and that she loves the person who is called "Montague", not the Montague name and not the Montague family. Romeo, out of his passion for Juliet, rejects his family name and vows, as Juliet asks him to "deny (his) father" and instead be "new baptized" as Juliet's lover. This one short line encapsulates the central struggle and tragedy of Shakespeare's play.
It's fitting that the gospel lesson (Mark 8: 31-38) paired with this second covenant is Jesus' answer to the immediately preceding question Jesus poses to the disciples: "Who do you say that I am?" (Mk 8: 29). Jesus goes on to foretell his death and resurrection, which will define his disciples as Christ followers: "If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross..." (Mk 8: 34). What does it mean to be named a Christ follower? How does it change us?
We can begin to claim our identities as Christ followers by trying to understand what it means for Jesus to claim his identity as Messiah - a process Maya Angelou succinctly critiques in response to someone who identifies himself as Christian with "What?! Already?!"
God took the initiative with Abraham and Sarah. God names Jesus at his baptism as "Beloved Son." In baptism God claims us and names us as children of God. In covenanting with our descendants, our Messiah, and with us, God initiates the relationship with re-naming. Our challenge is to respond to our new names as Abraham and Sarah did - fall on our knees and rejoice. Our challenge also is to avoid responding as Peter did by rebuking and rejecting the servanthood sacrifices Jesus lays out for us.
What's in a name? The answer: Our very identity and relationship with our Lord.
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
Survival After the Flood and God's Promise of New Life
Lent 2012 at Trinity will be a time to ponder God-Promises - those promises God vows throughout the Hebrew Bible (our Old Testament), culminating in the ultimate promise of salvation and eternal life through the resurrection of Jesus the Christ. We will celebrate this final, climactic covenant on Easter, April 8th.
Meanwhile, in Genesis 9: 8-17, God initiates and establishes God's first covenant. After flooding the corrupt and wicked earth, saving 2 of every creature and Noah's extended family, God shoots his unstrung war bow across the sky to remind us of God's vow never to destroy the earth again. In God's act of re-creation (beginning again with a remnant) is the promise of new life.
The problem is: we continue to sin. And as we begin Lent - 40 days for contemplation to consider our wicked ways - Jesus begins his ministry with his baptism in Mark 1: 9-15. Immediately following his baptism, Jesus is driven into the wilderness, where temptation besets him. This is the same wilderness of our lives, where temptations flood us with the attractiveness of the idols and lies that we can be in control and be our own gods.
The mercy of the Lord is from everlasting to everlasting. In this permanent, eternal covenant, God's mercy trumps God's judgment. God's Promise of everlasting life, with the possibilities of new life that only God is mighty enough to grant, we find the comfort and challenges to partner with God in our kingdom wilderness. May the rainbow always remind us of the possibilities that we might bridge the gap between what is and what can be as God works through us.
Grace and Peace,
Pastor Shelley
Meanwhile, in Genesis 9: 8-17, God initiates and establishes God's first covenant. After flooding the corrupt and wicked earth, saving 2 of every creature and Noah's extended family, God shoots his unstrung war bow across the sky to remind us of God's vow never to destroy the earth again. In God's act of re-creation (beginning again with a remnant) is the promise of new life.
The problem is: we continue to sin. And as we begin Lent - 40 days for contemplation to consider our wicked ways - Jesus begins his ministry with his baptism in Mark 1: 9-15. Immediately following his baptism, Jesus is driven into the wilderness, where temptation besets him. This is the same wilderness of our lives, where temptations flood us with the attractiveness of the idols and lies that we can be in control and be our own gods.
The mercy of the Lord is from everlasting to everlasting. In this permanent, eternal covenant, God's mercy trumps God's judgment. God's Promise of everlasting life, with the possibilities of new life that only God is mighty enough to grant, we find the comfort and challenges to partner with God in our kingdom wilderness. May the rainbow always remind us of the possibilities that we might bridge the gap between what is and what can be as God works through us.
Grace and Peace,
Pastor Shelley
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
The Edge of Glory
“I'm on the edge of glory, and I'm hanging on a moment of truth / Out on the edge of glory, and I'm hanging on a moment with you...”
Have you ever witnessed something glorious? Maybe it was the birth of your first child. Maybe it was that child’s graduation from high school. Maybe it was someone who let you have that parking space up close, or let you go through the grocery line first.
Check out the glory witnessed in 2 Kings 2:1-12 and Mark 9:2-9. Three of the disciples – Peter, James, and John – are on the edge of glory in our Gospel passage this week. Jesus is transfigured – transformed, goes through a metamorphosis, becomes radiant, shining – before their very eyes. The disciples contribute nothing to the transfiguration – they are merely witnesses, absorbing what is shown and told to them up on that mountaintop, watching on the edge of glory.
Many of us, particularly those going through a spiritual wilderness, hunger for this witnessing, for a mountaintop experience, for hearing God’s voice so clearly and directly, for seeing with our eyes the transfiguration of Jesus. We hunger and thirst to just be on the edge of glory. And then, when it happens, when we are dragged to the top by Jesus, when we are finally on the edge…all we want to do is cling to that moment of truth, to hang onto that moment forever. We are frozen in terror, in awe, as we glimpse a part of the divine, a new reality. Peter, nervous and a little confused, begs Jesus to stay – to make dwelling-tabernacles for Jesus, Moses, and Elijah. They don’t understand the edge of glory – but they don’t want to leave it and return to the ordinary, mundane, day to day existence.
Chances are you’ve heard this story once or ten times before. You might think the most important part is Jesus being transfigured, or Moses or Elijah (the Law and the Prophets) appearing, or God speaking from a cloud. I would argue that the first part of verse 9 holds the most power: “ As they were coming down the mountain…” The disciples were on the edge of glory – Jesus was in the middle of it. And yet they all came down the mountain to continue the journey to the cross, the journey to death, to transforming the world through the ministry of Jesus and the witnessing of the disciples.
When you’re on the edge of glory, will you cling to that moment? Or will you travel down that mountain to continue the path of discipleship, the path of learning and struggling, the path of working for the kin-dom of God in our ordinary world?
Grace and peace,
Pastor Kate
Check out the glory witnessed in 2 Kings 2:1-12 and Mark 9:2-9. Three of the disciples – Peter, James, and John – are on the edge of glory in our Gospel passage this week. Jesus is transfigured – transformed, goes through a metamorphosis, becomes radiant, shining – before their very eyes. The disciples contribute nothing to the transfiguration – they are merely witnesses, absorbing what is shown and told to them up on that mountaintop, watching on the edge of glory.
Many of us, particularly those going through a spiritual wilderness, hunger for this witnessing, for a mountaintop experience, for hearing God’s voice so clearly and directly, for seeing with our eyes the transfiguration of Jesus. We hunger and thirst to just be on the edge of glory. And then, when it happens, when we are dragged to the top by Jesus, when we are finally on the edge…all we want to do is cling to that moment of truth, to hang onto that moment forever. We are frozen in terror, in awe, as we glimpse a part of the divine, a new reality. Peter, nervous and a little confused, begs Jesus to stay – to make dwelling-tabernacles for Jesus, Moses, and Elijah. They don’t understand the edge of glory – but they don’t want to leave it and return to the ordinary, mundane, day to day existence.
Chances are you’ve heard this story once or ten times before. You might think the most important part is Jesus being transfigured, or Moses or Elijah (the Law and the Prophets) appearing, or God speaking from a cloud. I would argue that the first part of verse 9 holds the most power: “ As they were coming down the mountain…” The disciples were on the edge of glory – Jesus was in the middle of it. And yet they all came down the mountain to continue the journey to the cross, the journey to death, to transforming the world through the ministry of Jesus and the witnessing of the disciples.
When you’re on the edge of glory, will you cling to that moment? Or will you travel down that mountain to continue the path of discipleship, the path of learning and struggling, the path of working for the kin-dom of God in our ordinary world?
Grace and peace,
Pastor Kate
Sunday, February 5, 2012
Mighty, Mystical, Mysterious Healing
Naaman, a mighty general of Aram (present day Syria) is cured of his leprosy by Israel's prophet, Elisha. That Aram and Israel are enemies makes the story intriguing. That a slave girl captured from Israel taken into captivity in Aram to serve Naaman's wife is an instigator for Naaman's healing adds to the intrigue. After misunderstandings between the two kings of Aram and Israel, the healing is effected by Naaman's servants who persuade him to wash in the Jordan River seven times according to invisible Elisha's instructions. It's a thriller story worthy of our best movie efforts. It's a story of God's providential care that extends beyond God's chosen people of Israel. Our God is an inclusive God. Read the whole story in 2 Kings 5: 1-14.
Jesus heals another leper who doesn't have the status of General Naaman, but who bows before Jesus, confessing his faith in Jesus' power to heal. The leper says to Jesus, "If you choose to heal me, you can make me clean." Jesus responds, "I do choose." With his healing the leper, unable to stop himself, goes forth proclaiming the word about Jesus throughout the countryside. Read the leper's story in Mark 1: 40-45.
Both Naaman and the leper are cured as they engage with God. For Naaman, engaging with God was hard work. Remaining in "conversation", which was threatened at several points by Naaman himself, took perseverance. The leper recognizes that Jesus has a choice and is humbly on his knees begging, recognizing the healing power of Jesus. For us to see God at work in mighty, mystical, mysterious ways also takes perseverance, humility, vulnerability, and hard work. Sometimes we set our expectations so high, that we are blind to the many miracles that come along regularly. As we engage daily with the person of Jesus and our belief in Jesus, we can move beyond debating the reality or non-reality of mighty, mystical, mysterious miracles and our expectations of what constitutes a miracle to welcoming being invited into Jesus' presence.
Grace and Peace,
Pastor Shelley
Jesus heals another leper who doesn't have the status of General Naaman, but who bows before Jesus, confessing his faith in Jesus' power to heal. The leper says to Jesus, "If you choose to heal me, you can make me clean." Jesus responds, "I do choose." With his healing the leper, unable to stop himself, goes forth proclaiming the word about Jesus throughout the countryside. Read the leper's story in Mark 1: 40-45.
Both Naaman and the leper are cured as they engage with God. For Naaman, engaging with God was hard work. Remaining in "conversation", which was threatened at several points by Naaman himself, took perseverance. The leper recognizes that Jesus has a choice and is humbly on his knees begging, recognizing the healing power of Jesus. For us to see God at work in mighty, mystical, mysterious ways also takes perseverance, humility, vulnerability, and hard work. Sometimes we set our expectations so high, that we are blind to the many miracles that come along regularly. As we engage daily with the person of Jesus and our belief in Jesus, we can move beyond debating the reality or non-reality of mighty, mystical, mysterious miracles and our expectations of what constitutes a miracle to welcoming being invited into Jesus' presence.
Grace and Peace,
Pastor Shelley
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