Signs

My wife and I were talking about signs yesterday.  Not road signs, but signs from God.  The kind of signs that are all over the place in the Christmas story - 


The sign of the virgin conceiving, that Ahaz refused to ask for, that God gave him anyway.


The sign of the angel appearing to Zechariah, who refused to believe his prophecy and was struck dumb until his son John was born.


The sign of the angel appearing to Joseph in a dream, who then got up from his dream and did what the angel told him to do.


The sign of the angel appearing to Mary, who rejoiced in faithful obedience to be the mother of our Lord.


The sign of the angels appearing to the shepherds, who got up from their fields and went to Bethlehem to see the Babe in the Manger.


We observed that there seem to be a lot of Christians looking for God to tell them or show them what His will is for them in life.  If only God would give them a sign, they think, then they would know what He has in mind for them and they would follow Him obediently.  But would they?  Would we?


We eventually decided that it would depend on the person, on the day, on the sign, maybe on other factors.  For instance, would you embrace a sign from God if it came at a time when you were bored, perhaps like the shepherds, and saw no big life change in taking a little side trip to follow the sign?


Would you embrace a sign from God if it seemed to run in a direction you were already inclined to go, like faithful Mary?


Would you embrace a sign from God if it seemed to run in an opposite direction, like Joseph who was considering that the right thing to do would be to divorce Mary?  The angel told him that the will of God was that Joseph should marry her, and we're told Joseph did so - would you do that willingly, or under protest?  


Would you embrace a sign from God if it came at a time of settled comfort, like Zechariah and Elizabeth, looking forward to life's evening of retirement and quiet ease only to find out that God had in store for them diapers and bottles and crying and running and skinned knees and climbing trees and school programs and . . . . .?


Would you protest like Ahaz, and end up with a sign from God whether you want it or not?


I'd like to think that if God gave me a sign or spoke to me directly, that I'd respond to Him in faith and eagerness, like Mary did or the shepherds.  But I doubt it.  


How about you?

The Protester

Time magazine decided that 2011 was the year of the protester.  From the protests of the "Arab Spring" to the "Occupy [insert destination here]" movement, it seems that this has been the year for long-suffering people to rise up and cast off their oppressors, whether those oppressors were bloody tyrants or crushing mortgages.  In all cases, the motivation has been "we've had enough!"

And now Christmas is upon us.  Peel away the decorations, the shopping, the carols, the cuteness, the lights.  At its heart, Christmas is the story of the Great Protester declaring "I've had enough!"


"I've had enough!" of the destruction that the Tyrant Satan has caused in My Kingdom - "I Protest!"


"I've had enough!" of the infection of sin that has sickened everything I ever made - "I Protest!"


"I've had enough!" of the fear that covers all My precious human beings - fear of one another, fear of Me, fear of almost everything - "I Protest!"


And so Jesus came to Occupy Bethlehem.  Not a huge movement - not a big crowd.  Just a tiny baby in an out-of-the-way stable.  Just His parents, just a few shepherds and sheep, just a few Wise Men.  And no riots, no chants, no sit-ins or homemade signs.  No media coverage, no confrontations, no rebellions.  Just Love.


Because Love alone is the weapon of the Great Protestor.  Love alone overcomes the Tyrant, the infection, the fear.  The Love of God alone, incarnate in the Baby Jesus, that brings freedom and joy and peace.


Look at this Baby Jesus, and see the Great Protestor come in love.  Embrace Him, and let Him tear away the Tyrant, heal the infection, calm the fear that binds you and me and everyone.  Love Him, and be free.

Prodigal

Dear MJ,


I saw a note about you today on a police log.  Your situation is an echo of a great sadness to me, and I cry for you and your family.  I can only imagine what kind of pain you must be going through.


I also saw "comments" that others had left on that same police log, and I know that some of those "comments" must have only added to your griefs and added to your hurt.


My sister in Christ, I want you to know that you are my precious sister in Jesus,  and I know that He is especially fond of you.  I know that He loves you with a love that goes beyond anything that we can imagine.  I know that He became the Baby in Bethlehem, the Crucified, and the Risen One to give you His love.  I remind you of this not to say that you owe Him.  I remind you of this to say that He knows your every pain and sorrow, that He cries for you and pours out His love for you, and that He is even now longing for you to come home to Him and let Him wrap His arms of love around you.


And I am reminding you of this so that I can tell you that you have that home at our church; that whenever you come, you are welcome; that whenever you show up you will be embraced, received, loved, forgiven - with no questions asked and no explanations required.  When you're ready to come home and eat with us the Supper that Jesus gives us all, the Supper of His love, just come.  I'm waiting - so are we all.

Rhymes with "Air"

My dad is in the hospital this week for tests.  He seems to be doing OK, and is ready to be released.  However, he's still kind of weak, so when I got there today the social worker was talking to him and my mom about a short-term care facility placement for physical therapy.  That's probably a good idea, as the physical and occupational therapists may be able to make suggestions to them about modifications to make at home, to make life a little easier for everyone.


This is the first time I've been confronted with the idea of my dad going into a nursing home, even for a brief time for physical therapy.  I knew it was a good plan for him, but the idea spoken aloud sucked all the air right out of the room.  I felt like my stomach just plunged right to the floor.  I asked to duck out of the room for a few minutes, and went down the hall to the lounge area near the elevators.  For several minutes I didn't know what to think, to say or to do.  I took out my cell phone, trying to decide who to call, trying to decide whether to call anyone at all, in reality just trying to keep the world from spinning.  Just as I thought I might break down completely, who should come strolling past me but a dear friend and fellow pastor John, on his way to visit one of his parishioners.


He sat down next to me, I cried, we talked, and he prayed with me.  Then we went in to see Dad and Carolyn again, he left after a few minutes to see his member, and I was fine.


All John was planning to do was visit his member.  He never thought he'd find me sitting in the hospital hallway.  He never thought I'd be needing someone to sit with me for a bit, to pray the prayer I didn't know how to pray, to listen to me and watch me cry a little.  I didn't know that I was praying, although I guess I was.  I didn't have John in mind, when I was wondering who I could talk to.  But God did.  He sent John in answer to the prayer I didn't know I was praying, to pray for me and with me, and to give me the comfort of the Father that I needed just then.


I can't thank you enough, Father.  Please keep hearing my prayers and sending Your answers.

River

The other day as I was in downtown Cleveland I overheard one well-dressed gentlemen ask two others, "Is that the Cleveland River?"  One of the others said, "No, the Cuyahoga."  The first one laughed and said, "Oh, that's the one that caught fire a while back, isn't it?"  They went on from there to talk about the toxicity of various rivers they had known.


Actually, it was in 1969 that the Cuyahoga River caught fire - over forty years ago.  Since then it's been cleaned up, a center of commerce and recreation in downtown Cleveland, and there's even a National Park upstream.  It's a beautiful river now.


And it's a shame that when people from outside the Cleveland area hear the name "Cuyahoga River" they automatically think of its darker days, the lowest point in its history.  They can't seem to move past that and say, "Wow, what a beautiful river!"  They're so focused on the past, what it used to be.


But that's how we all are, I think.  We're so focused on what used to be that we don't look at the present.  I think particularly of some of the Bible characters, whom we name by their original infirmities - "the Gadarene demoniac," "the man born blind," "the ten lepers," and others - as if nothing significant happened to them since they first appear in the Gospel stories.  Yet Jesus met them in their distresses and healed them, every one, so now those labels no longer apply.  Now they are "the Gadarene whom Jesus exorcised," "the man to whom Jesus gave his sight," "the ten men whom Jesus cleansed" and so on.  They praised Him for what He had done, and their lives were changed forever.


Except in the minds of the people around them, and in ours.  The people around them still wanted them to be a demoniac, a blind man, and lepers, and to deal with them in the old ways.  How often do we want to deal with the forgiven, the restored, and the healed as they used to be?  How often do we still hold their sin against them, and our resentments and fears and disgusts, too?


Yet what does Jesus now hold against them?  Only the scars in His hands, I think, as He embraces them with His love.  He can no longer see what they were, only what they have become - beautiful and precious to Him.  If we don't see that beauty that He gives them, but only their sin from long ago; if we see only the demoniac, the blind man, the leper, or the river that caught fire, we're just as ignorant of the love of Jesus as the well-dressed stranger who only knows one bit of the story.  

Happy Thanksgiving!

Sermon notes for Thanksgiving 2011


The foundation of Thanksgiving is remembering what God has done for us, especially through His Son Jesus.  But so often it seems that what we build on that foundation is not particularly thankful.  Instead, we're picky, worried, anxious, judgmental, critical and impatient.  Sometimes these have to do with the way we feel, but more often than not they have to do with the focus of our attention.


Toward the end of his letter to the Philippians Saint Paul writes, "Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable - if anything is excellent or praiseworthy - think about such things."  (Philippians 4:8 NIV)


Wow!  This is different than what I usually hear from people, but I think it points us toward thankfulness pretty well.  Listen to his words again:


Think about whatever is true - how much time do you spend fretting about things that may or may not come to pass, the opinions of others, speculations and musings and wonderings?  And where do these get you?  Into worry and anxiety about the future.  How much better would it be to spend time thinking about whatever is true - the love of God for you through His Son Jesus, for instance.


Think about whatever is noble - are you drawn to celebrity scandals, stories about crime, juicy gossip?  And after a time do you find yourself commenting on just how terrible our society has been getting?  How much better would it be to spend time observing the noble all around you - the love of God working in His people as they care for others, love others, provide for others, help others.


Think about whatever is right - do you live life like a frustrated Olympic judge, always looking for ways to "take points off" from someone or something?  Whatever you observe or participate in, are you always noticing ways it could be better?  Isn't anything ever good enough?  How frustrating that must be!  And how much better and more relaxed and more grateful might you be if you were to learn to live with, "Lord, pretty good is good enough."


Think about whatever is pure, lovely, admirable, excellent, praiseworthy - I could go on with each of these, but I hope you get the point by now.  Our anxieties and cares and worries come to us in large part because we focus on the wrong things in this world.  We don't focus on the things God has given us, the things He has blessed us with.  If we did, we might build a better structure in which to be thankful to Him:


If we delighted in what was pure we'd spend less time fretting about movies and TV and more time being thankful for His blessings.


If we delighted in what was lovely we'd spend less time turning away from the ugly in the world and more time noticing that it is His creation behind the ugliness.


If we delighted in what was admirable, the shameful might dry up and blow away, and we might rejoice in the wonder of His grace.


If we delighted in what was excellent, we might truly be delighted in the excellent instead of being disappointed in the imperfect.


If we delighted in what was praiseworthy we would turn to the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ with all praise and love, giving Him thanks in all things because He alone is truly worthy of our praise and delight and thanksgiving.

Righteousness, Innocence, Blessedness

Notes from my sermon on November 13, 2011 - Matthew 25:14-30.  For an mp3 podcast of the complete sermon, go to revcahill.podbean.com

Let's begin with some problem areas in this so-called "Parable of the Talents":

• The word "talent" was a first-century word designating a certain weight of silver.  We use the word "talent" to refer to skills or abilities that we've either learned or honed to a high level.  Often when we hear this parable with the word "talent" we immediately jump to this modern meaning, and the thrust of the interpretation then seems to be "if you don't want to end up gnashing your teeth, use your talents for God's glory (and make sure you at least double His investment in you)!"  Please note:  there's not an ounce of Gospel in this interpretation!  This Sunday, I translated "talent" as "bag of gold."
• Side note:  Because Jesus said the servant with five bags brought five more and the one with two bags brought two more, don't you wonder what happens with someone who gets five bags but only brings three more, or the one who gets two bags but only brings one more?
• The "well done, good and faithful servant" sounds too much like a Performance Review phrase, as if the master is checking these guys off from the scale "3=Well Done, 2=Satisfactory, 1=Needs Improvement, 0=Gnash those Teeth."  In fact, the Greek word is just a simple positive expletive, which might just as well be translated into American English as "Cool!" or "Sweet!" - and that's how I've translated it here.

The basic problem with the way we deal with this parable, though, is that we look at if it were a story about a boss and his employees at their annual Performance Review.  When we do that, we come up with nothing but Law - no Gospel at all.  I think the foundation to getting at the Gospel in the story is to begin by looking at the way the third ("wicked and slothful") servant perceives the master.


This servant sees the master as a tight-fisted, hard-hearted guy.  He neither loves nor respects his master; he serves the master in fear or, in this case, not at all.  


How many people see the God of the Bible that way?  As a fearsome, vengeful, smiting god?  Then they decide they don't want a god like that, and refuse to believe in Him.  How much sense does that make?  If God is truly vengeful, wouldn't it make more sense to try to play up to Him?


But the God who has revealed Himself to us in the Bible and through Jesus is not that kind of God at all.  He is, instead, a kind and loving Father-God, who (in the Lord's Prayer) invites us to consider Him as a Father dear to us because He considers us to be children dear to Him.  So we approach Him with joy and excitement and love rather than avoid Him in fear, because for Jesus' sake we are His children, not His servants.


But if we insist on hanging on to the servant-master metaphor, how then shall we serve Him?  As Martin Luther once wrote of the Apostles' Creed, ". . . in righteousness, innocence, and blessedness."  We serve Him in righteousness, knowing that for the sake of Jesus who was completely righteous the Father counts His righteousness as if it were our own; now our service to Him is also righteous and everything we do for Him is without fault, but perfect.  We serve Him in innocence, knowing that for the sake of Jesus who was completely without sin the Father looks at us and sees His children as without sin as well; now our service to Him is done by people who are perfected in His sight by Jesus.  We serve Him in blessedness, knowing that for the sake of Jesus, of whom the Father said at His baptism in the Jordan River "This is My Beloved Son, in whom I am well-pleased," our Baptism is our connection to Jesus' Baptism and so to the Father's blessing.


If we insist on hanging on to the master-servant metaphor, then, remember that our service is done perfectly because it is done in the righteousness of Christ; it is done by sinless people because it is done in the innocence of Christ; and it is done by blessed people because it is done in the Blessedness of Christ.  That's not a Performance Review - that's the way a dear Father and His dear children love each other. 

On Being . . . Who?

The other day while I was shopping I heard a voice behind me in the store say "It's OK, you can say 'hi' to him."  I turned around and there was a mom and her little daughter, both smiling at me.  The daughter was about four or five years old, with bright eyes and clearly excited with the possibility of saying "hi" to me.  Although I didn't recognize either of them, the mom quickly said "She wanted to say 'hi' to you because she saw your white beard and red jacket and thought you were Santa Claus!"


I laughed, the mom laughed, the little one laughed.  We did a little fist-bump, I asked her if she was good and she said yes, they went their way.  A few minutes later I caught a glimpse of them at the register while I was at the back of the store.  The little one waved, I waved back, the mom waved back, and I went on shopping.


When I got to the register, the clerk looked at me and said, "Oh, you must be Santa Claus!"


Back in May I shared a post that reflected on the people that looked at me and thought I was Jesus.  The other day - Santa Claus!  Is that a comedown?  A compliment?  Or just more big shoes to fill?  

Ready!

Notes on my sermon from Sunday, November 6, 2011.  Based on Matthew 25:1-13 and 1 Thessalonians 4:13-18

It seems to me that people look at this Gospel lesson about the Kingdom of Heaven ("The Parable of the Wise and Foolish Virgins") and immediately want to waste a lot of time on the questions "Who's in and who's out?" and "What do I (personally) need to do to be ready?"  It also seems to me that people look at the Thessalonians reading and immediately want to waste a lot of time discussing the (so-called) Rapture.  These discussions miss the boat and the most important aspect of these readings - the setting!


In the Parable, the guests are waiting to get into a wedding reception.  Now, think about the best wedding reception you've ever been to.  What was it like?

• Was it in a country club?  A hotel ballroom?  A VFW hall?  Outside in a grove of trees?
• Were the tables decorated fancy? Or homey?
• Did they have china plates?  Or Chinet?  Silverware?  Or plasticware?
• Did you eat chicken cordon bleu?  Or chicken BBQ?
• And how was the open bar?
• And when the wedding party was introduced, did everyone sit up to pay attention?  And when the bride and groom were introduced, did everyone stand and applaud?  And when the bride and groom came in, did everyone know that then was when the party started?

Because when we keep in mind that the Parable is about a wedding banquet, then we can keep in mind that it is about joy and anticipation for the coming of Jesus as Bridegroom, not Jesus as Judge or even King.  It is about anticipation of celebration, not judgment.  It is about joy, not dread.


And it's not about who has enough oil and who gets shut out, because for the sake of this celebration Jesus the Bridegroom Himself has given us enough to get in, enough righteousness in His blood and enough innocence in His redemption and enough blessedness in His resurrection to eternal life.  For all who believe in Jesus, the question of the lamps is really a non-issue - we get to go in to the wedding reception!


And I wonder whether the Apostles preached it this way in the early days - with excitement and anticipation and joy and celebration.  And I wonder whether that's why the Thessalonians were concerned about their dead loved ones.  If the party didn't start until the Bridegroom would arrive, and if they assumed He would arrive soon, then what about their dead loved ones who died before He showed up?  Would that mean they miss the party?


Not so!  said Saint Paul.  Because the implication of Jesus' resurrection is that all those believers who have died before the Bridegroom arrives will be raised to enter the banquet hall along with us who are alive when He comes, where we all will join the everlasting celebration together.

Shaking Souls

Revelation 18:9-13 (King James Version) 
⁹And the kings of the earth, who have committed fornication and lived deliciously with [Babylon], shall bewail her, and lament for her, when they shall see the smoke of her burning,
 ¹⁰Standing afar off for the fear of her torment, saying, Alas, alas that great city Babylon, that mighty city! for in one hour is thy judgment come.
 ¹¹And the merchants of the earth shall weep and mourn over her; for no man buyeth their merchandise any more:
 ¹²The merchandise of gold, and silver, and precious stones, and of pearls, and fine linen, and purple, and silk, and scarlet, and all thyine wood, and all manner vessels of ivory, and all manner vessels of most precious wood, and of brass, and iron, and marble,
 ¹³And cinnamon, and odours, and ointments, and frankincense, and wine, and oil, and fine flour, and wheat, and beasts, and sheep, and horses, and chariots, and slaves, and souls of men.

Last week I had the opportunity to attend an informational meeting on Human Trafficking.  Sponsored by the Medina County, Ohio, AAUW, the intent was to make the audience aware of the extent of Human Trafficking here in this area that is a "bedroom suburb" of both Cleveland and Akron.  Disturbing statistics were presented - a heartwrenching video was shown - passionate presenters spoke of work with victims, mostly of sex trafficking but also of labor trafficking here in Ohio.  Questions were asked and answered, refreshments were served, handouts were available.


Despite my rather ho-hum reporting of the event in the previous paragraph I don't want you to think that Human Trafficking is a ho-hum issue.  In a secular setting like the AAUW and the Medina Community Recreation Center the organizers did all that they could, and they did it well.  But Christians ought not simply to be informed about this issue - they ought to be enraged about it.  It is an issue that, in the words of a friend of mine, ought to "shake your soul!"


Whether traffickers or victims, we're talking about people for whom our Lord Jesus Christ gave His life - people for whom He shed His precious blood.  Luther's "He purchased and won me, not with gold or silver but with His holy, precious blood and with His innocent suffering and death" is true for every first and last human being on the face of the earth.  It's not enough to call human trafficking a problem - Christians ought to call it an affront to the Gospel.  We ought to call it a slap in the face of our gracious God.  Those who buy and sell slaves "and the souls of men" take those whom God has made His precious children through the blood of His Son Jesus and reduced them to nothing more than sheep or cattle, merchandise to be hawked in a depraved and hellish marketplace.


Let's not fool ourselves.  As comfortable as we think our life may be, even here in Medina County, Ohio, Babylon is around every corner.  But that doesn't mean we Christians hunker down, circle the wagons, and pray for Jesus to get us out of this place.  What it does mean is that we Christians, who I hope are becoming more and more like Jesus all the time, rely on His love and the empowerment of the Holy Spirit to go into our local Babylons like He came into our world, to rescue and to save all who are so precious to Him.  They are our fellow redeemed - they are our brothers and sisters - they are children of the God who wants to welcome us all home.


Find out more about how you can be involved in the fight against Human Trafficking in your community - not because it's a good thing to do, but because it shakes your soul.

"Courageous"?

Last week we saw the movie “Courageous” - about several police officers who resolve together to live as the kind of fathers God calls them to be in His Word.  On this level, it’s a good challenge to Christian men to embrace their God-pleasing vocation as fathers, to care for their families and to teach their children the fear and love of God.

The outline behind the resolution and the challenge in the story seems to be this:  God is a just judge over every person.  Since every just judge judges a person based on the wrongs they have done, this is how God will judge us also.  However, He sent Jesus to pay the penalty for our sins and accept the judgment of God in our place.  Nevertheless, since in His Word He has given clear instructions as to how He wants us to live (particularly as fathers), we should accept that we are accountable to Him for that life.  The movie suggests that one of the ways we can do that is to gather together a small group of like-minded Christians to resolve to live according to God’s instruction and to hold one another accountable to that resolution.

Here’s the problem I have with this scenario:  the film proposes that the motivation for these men (and for all fathers) to accept the challenge is founded on the metaphor of God as judge – and this metaphor cannot help but hold us to a life of accountability even after we say that Jesus has taken the judgment onto Himself.  Because that’s the way the legal system works, isn’t it?  Even if someone else has paid that traffic fine, you still have to watch the way you drive so you don’t appear before the judge again on a greater charge.  So to live this way you always have to be looking over your shoulder - unless of course you can gather an “accountability group,” in which case other people can be looking over your shoulder with you.

When the filmmakers made this film they totally missed the opportunity to show us a way better and more obvious image of God– the image of God as Father!  After all, the focus of the film was on the lives and ways of the fathers, but nowhere was there any mention at all of God as Father nor a suggestion that we might live as earthly fathers not in fear of a judge to whom we are accountable but in imitation of the Father who loves us all.

There was one scene that was just a wondrous, Gospel-soaked image that I wish the filmmakers had done more with.  In it, one of the fathers takes his teenage daughter out to dinner to a fancy restaurant where he explains to her his resolution to protect her, to cherish her, to nurture her into womanhood, and to ask for her to join him in seeking the guidance and the love of God in bringing to her the man that He ultimately has in mind for her to marry.  The dad gives her a beautiful ring as a sign of that love and promise to her, and she is just enthralled with it and with him.

How like the Father that Jesus taught!  The Father who provides for His child, who cares for her (or him), who nurtures and protects and loves that child and does everything for her because He loves her.  And the child does not need to do anything to have that love – he loves her just because she is his child.  In the movie the father asks nothing from his daughter except that she accept his fatherhood over her, and this she gladly does as she accepts the ring he gives her.  And so it is with the Father that God is, too – loving any of us just because we are His child, protecting, nurturing, and asking nothing from us except that we accept His fatherhood over us, too. 

And because He has first loved us as our Father, so we turn and love our children and our families and one another in the family of God.  This is the true path of courage.

On Reformation Sunday

My sermon for Reformation Sunday, October 30, 2011, was based on this section from Dr. Martin Luther's letter to Pope Leo X, called "On the Freedom of the Christian."

". . . The third incomparable grace of faith is this, that it unites the soul to Christ, as the wife to the husband; by which mystery, as the Apostle teaches, Christ and the soul are made one flesh. Now if they are one flesh, and if a true marriage-- nay, by far the most perfect of all marriages--is accomplished between them (for human marriages are but feeble types of this one great marriage), then it follows that all they have becomes theirs in common, as well good things as evil things; so that whatsoever Christ possesses, that the believing soul may take to itself and boast of as its own, and whatever belongs to the soul, that Christ claims as his.

"If we compare these possessions, we shall see how inestimable is the gain. Christ is full of grace, life, and salvation; the soul is full of sin, death, and condemnation. Let faith step in, and then sin, death, and hell will belong to Christ, and grace, life, and salvation to the soul. For, if he is a husband, he must needs take to himself that which is his wife's, and, at the same time, impart to his wife that which is his. For, in giving her his own body and himself, how can he but give her all that is his? And, in taking to himself the body of his wife, how can he but take to himself all that is hers?

"In this is displayed the delightful sight, not only of communion, but of a prosperous warfare, of victory, salvation, and redemption. For since Christ is God and man, and is such a person as neither has sinned, nor dies, nor is condemned,--nay, cannot sin, die, or be condemned; and since his righteousness, life, and salvation are invincible, eternal, and almighty; when, I say, such a person, by the wedding-ring of faith, takes a share in the sins, death, and hell of his wife, nay, makes them his own, and deals with them no otherwise than as if they were his, and as if he himself had sinned; and when he suffers, dies, and descends to hell, that he may overcome all things, since sin, death, and hell cannot swallow him up, they must needs be swallowed up by him in stupendous conflict. For his righteousness rises above the sins of all men; his life is more powerful than all death; his salvation is more unconquerable than all hell.

"Thus the believing soul, by the pledge of its faith in Christ, becomes free from all sin, fearless of death, safe from hell, and endowed with the eternal righteousness, life, and salvation of its husband Christ. Thus he presents to himself a glorious bride, without spot or wrinkle, cleansing her with the washing of water by the word; that is, by faith in the word of life, righteousness, and salvation. Thus he betrothes her unto himself "in faithfulness, in righteousness, and in judgment, and in lovingkindness, and in mercies." (Hosea ii. 19, 20.)

"Who then can value highly enough these royal nuptials? Who can comprehend the riches of the glory of this grace?  Christ, that rich and pious husband, takes as a wife a needy and impious harlot, redeeming her from all her evils, and supplying her with all his good things. It is impossible now that her sins should destroy her, since they have been laid upon Christ and swallowed up in Him, and since she has in her husband Christ a righteousness which she may claim as her own, and which she can set up with confidence against all her sins, against death and hell, saying: "If I have sinned, my Christ, in whom I believe, has not sinned; all mine is His, and all His is mine;" as it is written, "My beloved is mine, and I am his. (Cant. ii. 16.) This is what Paul says: "Thanks be to God, which giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ;" victory over sin and death, as he says: "The sting of death is sin, and the strength of sin is the law." (I Cor. xv. 56, 57.) "

- quoted from http://www.fordham.edu/halsall/mod/luther-freedomchristian.asp

Tashlan

In the final book of the Narnia series, "The Last Battle," some of the enemies of Aslan try to win over his friends by saying that their god, Tash, is really the same as Aslan and begin to refer to him as Tashlan.  Of course the true friends of Aslan (and the true worshipers of Tash) are not taken in, and are even offended at this bastardization.  Good for them!

I don't know if you've heard this, but this year there is an organization called JesusWeen, which appears (from their website description) to be dedicated to encouraging Christians to targeting October 31, 2011, as the date for concerted Gospel outreach in their communities.  It's touted as "the Godly alternative to Halloween", but as I mulled it over this week I became increasingly offended by the idea, for Jesus' sake.

First of all, I am aware that some Christians are becoming more and more uncomfortable with the American celebration of Halloween, when the decorations seem to focus more and more on death and the occult.  I get this.  I think that at some level this emphasis challenges some cherished idea that America is a "Christian nation," but there's more to it than that.  Certainly over the last several decades the observable marketing of Halloween has skyrocketed, and not the cute kids' party stuff, either.  So parents and well-meaning watchers of public morality are concerned about these trends and want to do something about all this.  This year, someone has finally come up with a solution:  JesusWeen, "The Godly alternative to Halloween."

One of the problems with JesusWeen is that there are already two very good Godly (= "Christian", you understand) alternatives to Halloween available, if you don't want to go the old-fashioned door-to-door litte-kids-with-candy-buckets route. 

The first is, of course, All Saints' Day (November 1), on which Christians may and should remember that the Church of Jesus Christ is not only those alive on earth who believe in Him but those who are alive in heaven with Him forever.  Somehow in all the let's-avoid-Halloween flurry people miss sight of the opportunity to celebrate the entire company of the redeemed for whom Jesus died.  That was a big deal, and worthy of celebrtion in October as well as in December and April.

The second (for Protestants and Evangelicals, at any rate) is the celebration of the Reformation, which began when Martin Luther nailed his 95 Theses about indulgences to the church door in Wittenberg on October 31, 1517.  Without going into a big history lesson here, Protestants and Evangelicals and non-denominational churches wouldn't be what or where they are today without the Reformation, so we could at least celebrate this as a birthday (oh, wait - Lutherans already do).

So Christians - if you don't want to let your kids go out mooching candy from the neighbors, and if you don't want to decorate your house with skeletons and spiders, focus on All Saints' Day or on Reformation Day.  Pretty simple, if you ask me.

That just leaves the idea of "JesusWeen."  How offensive is this to me?  Let me cout the ways (just five):

5    No matter how they explain the "Ween" on the website, "JesusWeen" is obviously a mashup of "Jesus" and "Halloween" and nobody is fooled - it's a blatant attempt to push an agenda.  (What's next - ObamaWeen?)

4     Are people who celebrate JesusWeen to be called JesusWeenies?

3     "JesusWeen" sounds like a mixed-breed term, like Tashlan, Puggle, or Schnoodle.  Since I have no idea what Tashlan, Puggles, or Schnoodles really are, I don't know what the fuss is all about.

2     Assume we'll see "JesusWeen Gear" soon - T-shirts, hats, Bible covers, and more.  Will tables be located in the Temple courtyard?

1     I can't really believe that the Jesus I know - the Jesus of love and compassion and gentleness, the Jesus who welcomes children and broken ones and sick and untouchable ones into His embracing arms - would allow His Name to be so commercialized.  I'm as offended by this as I am by TV commercials about Presidents' Day sales that have bad actors in bad costumes doing bad imitations of George Washington and Abraham Lincoln dancing around and trying to sell cheap furniture.

In the end, I will have Halloween candy to give to little ghosts and goblins who may come to my door.  At church we will have a Reformation Party on October 30.  On November 1 I will remember the saints who have gone before us into heaven by the grace of God.  I will try to remember every day that I live in the love of Jesus, and that He does not need to be combined with anything else.

There's no room for Tashlan around here.

Tiny Companions

For some reason we are visited by ladybugs every October.  I don't know where they have been all summer, but they show up around our house in these early days of Autumn.  There are quite a few of them - not like an infestation, just a small invasion.  Maybe our house and cars are warmer places for them to spend the chilly nights than the grass or the trees, so they just are more comfortable there.  That's OK with me.  I think they're cute. 

In a world where it's only too easy to get up in the morning and hear all kinds of nasty news on the TV or radio, or read it in the newspaper or the internet, it's relaxing and comforting to see a dozen or so of these little guys waking and stretching after they've spent the night on my car.  Like the lilies of the field and the birds of the air, they seem oblivious to the cares and worries of the world, and gratefully accept what the Lord gives them each day. 

I greet them with "Hi, guys!", climb into the car, and off we go.  They hang on, too, and ride with me a ways up the road, enjoying the still-warm autumn weather with me.  Eventually they'll fly off to the pursuits of the day, but in the morning they'll be back and we'll do it all again.

Beloved Vineyard

Notes on a sermon from Matthew 21:33-46

This is the parable about the "Tenant Farmers" who take over the Vineyard of the Lord and act like they own the place.  It's pretty clear that Jesus is aiming the parable at the religious leaders of His day, but it's also aimed at the religious leaders of our day (including preachers like me), warning us that the vineyard belongs to Him, not to us. 

So in the story the focus is on the Owner and the Messengers, and the Tenant Farmers who kill the Son.  But what becomes of the vineyard? 

No matter what the Tenants are doing, the vineyard is still the Beloved of God.  No matter how well or how poorly the Tenants are caring for God's vineyard, He loves it with an unbelievable love.  No matter whether the religious leaders or pastors or whoever is "in charge" are sincere and upright people or totally evil, God loves His people with a love that passes all our understanding and all our imagination.  No matter whether the people of God are well cared for by their leaders or not, they are always well-beloved by the Father whose Son gave His very life for them.

I know that sometimes the people of God suffer greatly because of the sins of their leaders, and need deep healing for that suffering and those wounds.  But deeper than those wounds is the love of God for them.  That love sustains them even through the worst from their leaders, heals them with His tender love and compassion, and lifts them up again in His care. 

The tenants come and go, but the vineyard is the Lord's Beloved forever.

"Workers in the Vineyard" - Matthew 20:1-16

Notes from a sermon on September 18, 2011

Of all of Jesus' parables, my favorite is the parable of the Prodigal Son (Luke 15), the story of a boy who took his inheritance before his father died, ran off to waste it in a distant country, then returned to grovel at his father's feet and beg to be received back (meanwhile, the dutiful older brother was there to remind the father that he had been faithful to his duties all along).  What was the father to do?  Shockingly, he welcomed home the son who had been so prodigal with his inheritance with a display of love and gratitude and generosity that went beyond the bounds even of prodigality into (dare we join Elder Brother in saying it?) unfairness!

The parable of the Workers in the Vineyard is not the Parable of the Prodigal Son, however.  It is a parable about a bunch of people who showed up to work in somebody's vineyard at different times during the day without the benefit of a union to look out for them.  At the end of the day, the vineyard owner, totally ignoring the concept of seniority, did not pay anyone fairly according to the work they had done, but paid everyone the same amount just for showing up, it seems!  Where's the shop steward when you need him?

So these are two different parables - but with the same theme.  It's as if Jesus told the Luke parable for those who would be tuned into the Hallmark Channel, and Matthew's for those who would be turned into the Wall Street Journal Report.  But the theme is the same:

God is not fair, as we count fairness.  Our definition of fairness is this:  an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.  Whether that applies to retaliation or to payment for work done, that only seems fair.  Work an hour, get paid for an hour.  Work for ten, get paid for ten.  Go off and waste all your family's money, don't expect us to welcome you back home with open arms.  "Fairness" is a business word, a transaction word, a word that means "both parties got something in this deal."

But God is not fair, as we count fairness, and that's what these stories show.  He doesn't give us what is fair - He gives us beyond what is fair!  The latecomers to the vineyard receive well above the agreement reached with the firstcomers - that's not fair, that's prodigally generous!  The prodigal son isn't given the opportunity to grovel in front of the Father - he's lifted up immediately and celebrated as the Returned One - that's not fair, that's generously prodigal! 

And that's how God deals with every one of us, for Jesus' sake.  For the sake of the One who gave everything for us - His glory, His divinity, His life - He delights now to deal with us generously, prodigally, giving us way more than we can ever ask or imagine, beyond what we can think we deserve, not because we earned it, but because He loves us.

He's just not fair - and thank You for that, Father!

Brat Patrol?

Apparently one of the big to-dos these days is the issue of restaurants that ban all children because some children have misbehaved in those restaurants in the past, irritating the adults who are dining there.  Let us be clear that the children who are at issue here are infants and young children, not school-aged children or teenagers, who are usually "better behaved."  For some, the premise still seems to be "children should be seen but not heard."

Now let me also confess that I've had a few times as a father and grandfather where the kids were "rambunctious" in restaurants, and may have been annoying to other diners if not for the presence of happy meals, playlands, and plastic furniture.  But as I think back on those times, I realize that this was not the fault of any of the children, but rather the adults at our table (including myself).

This morning at a restaurant there was a table where a mom and toddler were sitting with Grandma and Grandpa.  The toddler was toddling merrily through the aisles while the adults were having an adult conversation.  The toddler wasn't really being disruptive to anyone else, but the adults were largely oblivious to his presence.  At another table sat two adults, one of whom was in a wheelchair that stuck out a bit into the aisle.  The wheelchair wasn't really bothering anyone else, but the two adults were largely oblivious to its presence as they carried on their adult conversation as well.

And that's really the issue:  adults who expect children to act like that wheelchair so that the adults can have an "adult" conversation, without including the child who

• may have just discovered the joy of running, and like an incipient Eric Liddell is also discovering the pleasure of the Father in that running; or who
• may have just discovered the application of Boyle's law of air pressure as it applies to her own lungs, and is also discovering the meaning of Scriptures like "the voice of the Lord strips the trees bare"; or who
• may have just discovered that the Dadaists may have been on to something; or who
• may have just discovered that he has a highly discerning palate after all, and that it was actually a french fry tree that tempted Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden; or who
• would probably not have been too surprised to see Jesus leave the "adults' table" at the party to come to sit at the "kids' table," where He might have put olives on their finger tips and made gravy lakes in their mashed potatoes and blew straw wrappers at the backs of the adults' heads and generally told them how much He loved them.

All this is to say, of course, that a child is not a wheelchair or a doorknob or a thing - a nuisance or a bother or an annoyance.  Any child is a precious human being whom the Father knit together in the mother's womb, whom Jesus gave His life for, whom the Spirit is working sanctification on as they grow. 

(If I were the restaurant owner, I think I'd ban parents who bring their children to the restaurant and then ignore them as if they were nothing more than pieces of the furniture.)

Cowboys & Aliens & Preachers

I finally went to see the movie Cowboys & Aliens, and wondered afterward "what was Ron Howard thinking, adding his name to this mishegaas?"  This film seemed so much less than so many of Howard's other wonderful works (Cinderella Man, A Beautiful Mind, Apollo 13  . . .  ), and I just wondered where his mind was when he signed the contract.  Or just maybe there was some other Ron Howard who helped produce this flick?  Yeah, that must be it.  One Ron Howard produced (directed, what have you) the masterpieces; a completely different Ron Howard was responsible for the bombs - or perhaps that's what film scholars will decide a thousand years from now.

That seems to be the way some Bible scholarship works sometimes.  Take Isaiah, for instance.  Because some parts of his absolutely wondrous work are somewhat different in style and language than other parts, some have concluded that there must have been several writers posing as Isaiah.  The same with some of Paul's letters.  The styles of all the letters are not the same, therefore they cannot be from the same author, seems to be the argument.

I've always wondered about that.  The Jonathan Winters recording I have of the 23rd Psalm, for instance, is very different in style than the Jonathan Winters character from Mork and Mindy, but it's the same guy.  Anne Curry shows one side of her personality on The Today Show and a different side on Dateline, but there's no doubt she's the same person. 

And I think back over my 30+ years of preaching, in three different congregations (regularly) and in multiple other congregations as the occasion arose.  I didn't have the same style of scholarship, writing, outlining, delivery, every time I got into the pulpit.  In fact, as I think of some of those early sermons (which I do as seldom as possible!) I cringe to think that the Holy Spirit allowed those to be inflicted upon the people of God.  I hope I've come a long way in my preaching in 30 years. 

And I hope that if Isaiah preached among God's people long enough to write 66 chapters of such wondrous gospel to them, he would have changed his style here and there to fit the occasion or the audience or his own growth in the Spirit.  I would hope that after decades of preaching he would have grown some in the Spirit, and that would have been reflected in his writing.  Paul, too.  Me, too. 

As for Ron Howard and Cowboys & Aliens, well, sometimes even we preachers have to confess the eggs we lay from the pulpit.

Monkey Theology at Home and at Work

These Lutheran monkeys at the missionary compound near Vaniyambadi in India (see this blog's page on Sightings from India 2011 for more on this place) kept coming back to my mind for more exploration this week.

First:  I referred to them as Lutheran monkeys because at some point in time they had discovered the Lutheran missionary compound and taken up residence there, and now they act like they own the place; yet as far as we know there was no evidence of any kind of change or growth in their spiritual lives as a result of living in this Lutheran environment all these years. 

Not that this is true for all Lutherans by any means.  I'm just reflecting that historically this seems to be kind of the way we've defined what it is to be "Lutheran" - somehow to find your way to a Lutheran place; somehow to take up residence there; somehow to act like you own the place.  And some "Lutherans" can be that way for decades with no evidence of any kind of change or growth in their spiritual lives as a result of living in this Lutheran environment. 

I say these things as a Lutheran, but I've been told that one could substitute the words "Baptist" or "Methodist" or "Pentecostal" or "Evangelical" or whatever other adjective you like for "Lutheran" and these comments would make as much sense in other churches.

Monkey theology at home.

Second:  Another pastor recounted an incident the other day in which he was in a grocery story wearing his clerical collar when a woman asked him what date he was "born again."  When he responded that he was "born again" at his baptism as an infant, she shook her head and told him that this didn't count because he had not made a conscious decision to receive baptism. 

Leaving all the infant / adult baptism discussion aside for today, this kind of exchange makes me wonder this - is the only really important thing that we know the date on which the Lutheran monkeys took up residence in the missionary compound?  What have they been doing there since then, or isn't that important at all? 

That seems to be the attitude when people focus exclusively on "what date were you born again?"  There seems to be no interest whatever on "what have you been doing since then?  Have you been growing spiritually?  Have you been rejoicing in the love of the Father?  Have you been recognizing the forgiveness of Jesus in your life?  Have you been afire with the flame of the Spirit?"  That's hardly mentioned.  Just:  "when did you get in?"

Of course, now that I think about it that's the way folks are around town here, too.  "How long have you lived here?"  Almost twenty-two years.  End of conversation - never mind that we came with three kids who have since graduated from the local high school and from college; two have advanced degrees; all three are married; there are three grandchildren; we've worked continuously these 22 years; there's a new roof and new windows on the house, and so forth and so on.  "We've lived here almost twenty-two years" - and that's all anyone wants to here.  "I was born again on such and such a date" - thanks for telling me that - I don't need to hear anymore.

Like living in the parable of the Workers in the Vineyard (Matt 20), isn't it?  All I have to figure out in my relationship to you is this:  did you come into to the vineyard before me or after me, and legitimately or illegitimately?  Then I'll know how we'll each get paid fairly. 

Monkey theology at work.

Matthew 18:1-20

Notes from a sermon on September 4, 2011

Since this chapter has several seemingly discrete sections, suitable for tearing apart in Bible class and expanding into marketable workshops on shepherding, reconciliation, and other good Christian endeavors, it seemed to me this weekend that taken all together these sections might be bound into a little booklet called Martha Stewart's Living in the Church.  It might go something like this:

I imagined Martha behind her butcher-block counter, with her denim shirt on, her smile, her hair gently falling in a wave over part of her face, saying, "Now today I'm going to show you the best way to cut off your hand when it offends you.  First, you'll want to get one of my super-absorbent bath towels from my Martha Stewart Collection, because it's likely to get quite messy.  Then, I like to use a serrated knife rather than a cleaver because there will be quite a lot of bone and sinew to go through . . . "

And so on, through chapters on How Not to Offend Little Ones, Best Clothes to Wear While Out Looking for the Lost One, Four Simple Steps Toward Reconciliation, and so on.

Because isn't that how this chapter from Matthew's Gospel is usually dismembered - uhhh, discussed?

But start with the question the disciples asked - "Who is the greatest in the Kingdom of heaven?" - and Jesus' immediate answer - to bring a child into their midst as a focal point for his entire response - and where does that take us?

On the way home from my recent India trip I had a 15-hour airplane flight from Abu Dhabi to New York, on an aisle seat of a 4-seat row in which the other three seats were occupied by a mom with her two daughters - ages 3 and 5 years old.  Everyone I've told this to has agreed that I was probably the right guy to have in the 4th seat, because I was amused, distracted and entertained greatly the entire time, and helped once in a while, too.  And I had the opportunity to think about these children in relation to this text.

As adults we have spent a lifetime building up all kinds of walls, barriers, defenses, protective perimeters, and keep-out mechanisms that children just don't have.  That's why it's so hard for adults to go after a lost sheep, for instance - an adult would have to gear up in some way, to make sure that everything is safe for himself before he sets out.  A child would just say "Oh look, a sheep!  Let me go pet it!"  And off they would go, heedless of the risks.  That's why adults need processes and procedures for reconciliation, because those procedures and processes help to break down our own defenses and perimeters as we're making our way gingerly toward the person who has something against us.  Children don't have those defenses yet, so it's much easier for them.

Now did you ever think of Jesus in this way, too?  As an adult who never claimed for himself all the adult defenses that the rest of us have? 

As the One who said, "I could ask my Father to send legions of angels rushing to my defense right now" - but He didn't. 

As the One who looked at not one, but many lost sheep and didn't hesitate to count the cost or to gear up, but just came to get them, to get us. 

As the One who said to us all, "I would rather have nails driven through my hands than that you should be hurt by sin any more.  I would rather have spikes driven through my feet than that you should bear the burden of damnation any more.  I would rather have a crown of thorns thrust into my own head, and the blood run down into my own eyes, than see any of you in hell, ever."

As the One who came to reconcile us all to Himself,  whether one on one, or on the cross displayed to the whole world, dealing with all of us just as He would deal with the tax collectors and sinners, eating with them, visiting their tax tables, letting the prostitutes cry tears of joy and thanksgiving over His feet and wiping them with their hair, and allowing all the "righteous" people to ridicule him - just so He and the Father and the Spirit and the angels in heaven could rejoice over one who repents?

No defenses, walls, or barriers on His part, just love for those who need His love so badly.  That's what makes Him the greatest in the Kingdom of heaven.  And so I wonder if "being transformed into the likeness of Christ" includes putting aside our barriers and our defenses that we have worked a lifetime to erect, becoming more and more like children in this way so that we simply love one another as Jesus has loved us.

I know, "easier said than done."  But please don't blow it off with that trite comment and walk away.  Pray that the Holy Spirit will move you to surrender to Him and that through the mighty working of His power He will be transforming you more and more into one of those children who is like Jesus.

Secure your own mask first

While waiting in the doctor's office today I happened to pick up a magazine that had an article with 7 suggestions for teaching spirituality to children.  Number 1 was the most interesting:  "Secure your own mask first."

If you've ever flown on an airplane, you've heard this message as you're getting ready to take off.  The idea is, if the oxygen masks fall from the ceiling and you're next to someone who may need help puttting on the mask (like a child), put your own mask on first and then help them put theirs on. 

The suggestion is that the same is true with spirituality.  If you're going to teach spirituality to your children, make sure your own mask is secure first.  Take a good inventory of your own spiritual life, your disciplines and practices.  Take a good look at your relationship with Jesus.  Do this constantly, daily, with joy and love.   Don't let the teaching of spirituality to your children be a "Do as I say, not as I do" kind of thing, but lead them to the love of Jesus by your own love for Him.  Keep your own love for Him firmly in place, and you will be more effective in helping them with their love for Him.

Sightings from India 2011

I'm back from India, and I've set up a page on this blog called Sightings from India 2011 with a few pictures and some notes from my trip.  Please take a few minutes to check it out.  Thanks!

Gaps

You may have noticed a gap in "Sightings on the Way" over the past couple of weeks.  Not because I didn't see anything, but because we were busy with preparations for, attending, and relaxing after our son Matt's wedding in California.  Perhaps I'll make some observations about those days in some future entries.

I'm letting you know there will be another gap for a couple of weeks again now because I'm off to India to meet with some of our Lutheran pastors there, to encourage them, pray with them, listen to them talk about their ministries, see what I can learn from them and what we can learn together.  As the Lord wills, I'll be back here in the Blog O'Sphere around the first of September to catch you up.  Until then, God bless us everyone!

Cousins

Notes from a sermon on August 7, 2011.  Matthew 14

Jesus and John the Baptist.  The Messiah and the Forerunner.  So theological.  So formal.  So King-James-ish, the way we think of this relationship.

Jesus and John the Baptist at the Jordan river.  We almost hear Jesus (solemnly): "Hail, John the Baptist!  I come to be baptized by thee."  John (equally solemly):  "Nay, Messiah, rather shouldest I be baptized by thee than that thou shouledest be baptized by me, whom am unworthy to untie the thong of thy sandal."  Jesus:  "Nay rather, prevent me not, for thus it is the plan of God, that all righteousness shouldst be fulfilled."  And so on and so forth (yawn).

And later.  John pointing to Jesus with all prophetic solemness to Jesus as the Lamb of God.  As the One Who Must Increase.  Jesus pointing to John as the Forerunner.

And then John's death reported to Jesus.  Jesus takes the news stoicly, takes the disciples to the other side of the lake, heals a mess of people, feeds thousands, sends the disciples back, prays a while, walks on water.  The lesson?  "Surely Thou art the Son of God!"

Or not.  Maybe that's just the lesson we've learned for years from Sunday School Teachers and Pastors and Learned Professors and Theologians and People Who Have Studied the Bible and the like. 

Maybe if that's the only lesson we've learned we've missed out on a lot.

A year or so ago my now eight-year-old grandson Luke asked (out of the clear blue), "when Jesus was a kid, do you think he ever got into any trouble?  Like, did he ever jump out from behind a tree and scare anybody?"  What a delightful thought!

In Luke's town, there are quite a few cousins of varying degrees and steps of removal, some of whom are close to his age.  He sees them quite often and plays with them frequently.  Jesus and John were only six months apart, and they were cousins, so it's natural for Luke to latch on to that aspect of their relationship.  So imagine with him, and with me, if you will . . .

When John and Jesus were kids, did they hide behind bushes or trees and jump out and say "boo!" at girls?

Did their moms call them in for cookies?

Did they write their names with chalk on the sidewalk?

Did they call each other Jack and Yeshie?

Did they skip stones into the pond?

Did they catch frogs and put them into their pockets?

Were they on the same soccer team, in the same Hebrew class, liked the same music?

And when they were thirty years old and John went out to the River to preach and baptize, and Jesus went out to be baptized by him, was their conversation all that formal, like between a Forerunner and a Messiah?  Or was it between two cousins who had grown up together, this day with heads together, hands on each others' shoulders, more like "Jack, you know why I'm here."  "Yeshie, you know I'm the one that should be baptized by you."  "I know what you're saying, Jack, but you know this was always the plan."  Jack (reluctantly), "Well, OK Yeshie, but you know this is the beginning of the end for both of us.  Love you, buddy."  And into the water they go.

And then think of the comments that Jesus and John make about one another as grounded in the cousin-cousin relationship, a relationship grown and fertilized and nourished for thirty years.

And then think of the announcement to his cousin of John's terrible, horrible, cruel, senseless death.  Can we really have been so dense all these years to have thought that Jesus would have taken the news so stoically?  Wouldn't this have explained His sudden desire to get away from the crowds?  

And yet the crowds followed him, and wanted healing, and wanted feeding.  And He did what Jesus would do, what good Christians would do - He put aside His own feelings and needs and sacrificed them to help all these other people.  But I wonder whether His own heart was broken and screaming and hurting the whole day. 

And finally at the end of the day the people went home, the disciples got into the boat, and He went further up the mountain to pray.  And to cry, I'm sure - a lot.  Just Jesus and the Father, finally alone to do what Jesus had needed to do the whole day.  Pouring His heart out to the Father in grief and lament and sorrow probably for hours (that's why He didn't show up at the boat until the fourth watch) until finally, perhaps, His prayer morphed into something as simple as a breath prayer like "You are the Father; I am the Son; praise God."  One breath per phrase.  Over and over again.  Jesus receiving comfort from the Father in that love and that relationship.

Until finally, the grieving done, the relationship reaffirmed, His strength restored, He was able to go down the mountain and set out on the surface of the water, held up firmly in the hand of the Father who loved Him, who had always loved cousin Jack, who now had Jack safely in His hands forever.
In the knowledge that Jesus was indeed the Son of this wondrous Father, and perhaps in the knowledge that He Himself would be the Resurrection even for His old friend Jack, he set out across the water to give His new friend Peter a hint of that Resurrection now.