The Tower of Siloam all over again

Luke 13:4 Jesus asked, "What about those 18 people who died when the tower at Siloam fell on them? Do you think that they were more sinful than other people living in Jerusalem?"

In the not too distant past there was a certain Congressman with a somewhat unfortunate last name (as it turned out) who was caught up in a major scandal that made all the news cycles for several weeks.  Eventually, public and media pressure forced him to resign his office, and he departed in disgrace.

People all over the country were somewhat divided as to what to make of all of this.  One large segment of the population shook their heads and said "That's politicians for you."  Another large segment just ignored it all and went on with their lives.  Still another segment joined in the frenzy of feeding on the scandal, creating all kinds of jokes and rude stories in its wake.

Christians couldn't decide what to do, either.  Some wanted to point fingers and cast stones, and rail on the sinfulness and decadence of the times, or at least the person. 

Some, puzzled at the possibility that this might not really be the best response and reminded perhaps of the incident reported by Luke in his Gospel (above), decided not to point condemning fingers at the Congressman but to turn their attention instead to their own lives and characters.  They asked themselves questions like What is it that I need to repent?  What is it that I am lying about (to myself or to others)?  What is it that I would be embarassed by if others found out?  Repenting, confessing, and being assured of forgiveness, they went their way rejoicing with the joy of the pardoned.

Some of them went their way rejoicing right past the wounded and broken Congressman and his family, and no doubt rightly so.  They had followed the teaching of Jesus, looked at this news with a view toward their own repentence, and received the grace of forgiveness.  What more was required of them?  Nothing actually, I suppose.

But some among these Christians paused a bit as they went on their way.  They wondered whether their own repentence and forgiveness was indeed the end of the story, and then they remembered something else.  They remembered that their spiritual jouneys had them pointed toward the likeness of Jesus and moving toward Him, and realized that they were not finished with this phase of their transformation just yet.

And so these Christians paused in their journey to turn aside for a bit to see what they might do to aid the fallen Congressman with the grace and mercy of Jesus.  They spent time trying to discern his wounds, and the kind of healing that would be appropriate for him and his family.  They spent some time in prayer before the Holy Spirit, asking for His advice and guidance about how they might pray.  And then they prayed that Jesus would make a way to reach into these shattered lives with His forgiveness and love, rebuild the wreckage, and fill them with His grace.  They prayed for his healing.

And it is just possible that these Christians who paused in the rejoicing of the pardoned may yet see the Congressman
alongside the Tax Collector and the Demonized and the Adulteress in that crowd of people whom Jesus met in their wounding, and filled with His healing - and then they will rejoice with the angels.

Lifting the Cup



Photo courtesy Sporting News feed at America OnLine

The Boston Bruins won the Stanley Cup last night, their first championship in almost 4 decades.  As is the tradition, the Cup is presented to the team captain who hoists it aloft in jubilation for a while, then passes it on to the next player and so on through the roster.  Eventually the Cup makes it to the General Manager and others in the office.  Then, from now until the beginning of next season the players may take turns hosting the Cup in their own homes for a day, where their families can celebrate the victory with their husbands and dads. 

I like this tradition a lot.  In other sports, at the end of a championship the trophy is presented to the owner and General Manager with only a few players at the podium.  Who knows where it spends the off season - in the office?  In a glass case somewhere?  In the NHL the ones who actually sweated and bled and had the teeth knocked out of them get to celebrate with the Cup, not just the suits in the front office.

The whole tradition reminds me of another Cup.  Saint Paul would write "the cup of blessing which we bless - is it not a participation in the blood of Christ?"  The Cup of Communion - the Cup of Jesus' blood - is the Cup of His struggle over sin and death and the devil and the Cup of His victory over them.  It is the Cup that signifies that He was the one who actually sweated and bled and had the life knocked out of Him.

And He shares the Cup with all His family.  Like Stanley's Cup, the Cup of Jesus is not meant to be put on display, admired from the other side of protective glass.  It is meant to be brought out, passed around, held and used by each member of the family.  And day after day, wherever His family gathers the Cup of His victory is raised in triumph and celebration in the presence of His people.  Day after day they share in His victory as they drink from this Cup, and are united with Him in celebration.  Whether in massed worship in a magnificent cathedral or with just two or three in a hospital room, we share in His victory as we share in His Cup.

A Culture of Gloating

The Dallas Mavericks have defeated the Miami Heat in the NBA finals.  This means that the Mavericks are the NBA champions for the season just finished - except in Cleveland, Ohio, and surrounding communities.  For many folks in this part of Ohio, this news is really about the defeat of one man - LeBron James.

When James played for the Cleveland Cavaliers, he was admired (worshiped?) by many in Cleveland.  When he announced his departure to the Heat, he was reviled by just as many in Cleveland.  Many folks this past month have been cheering for the Mavericks, not because they are such great Dallas fans but because they did not want LeBron to win that championship ring he "deserted" Cleveland for.  And now he didn't win it after all, and the gloating and the jokes are flying thick and fast, coming from bars and offices, factories and even newsrooms.

Not long ago, when Osama bin Laden was killed, our country was cautioned against overt displays of celebration (so as not to rile up "our enemies," it was said).  Even on the football field these days players can be penalized for "excessive celebration."  Here in northern Ohio, though, gloating runs rampant right now - and not because "our team" won such a great victory, but because one young man, judged by many to be a "traitor," got his comeuppance.

As I wondered where this culture of gloating comes from (and as you see, it appears in a variety of forms, from sports to politics to schools to neighborhoods), I remembered that Henri Nouwen wrote that we live in a culture of competition rather than compassion. 

• Rather than seeking the good of our neighbor, we seek our own good at her expense.
• Rather than working for the success of our neighbor, we work to make sure that our success is greater than his
• Rather than admiring our neighbor's accomplishments and praising her for them, we find tiny things to pick apart
• And when our neighbor falls, rather than pick him up and help him to stand, we break into cheers and song and victory dances.

And these days it seems as though merely celebrating our neighbor's fall isn't enough for us - we have to ramp it up from celebration to scorn to gloating.  We have to rub it in, we have to ridicule, we have to ride the gloating like a tidal wave, heedless of the damage it may be causing both to our neighbor and to our own souls.

It's damaging to our own souls because gloating is not merely about "excessive celebration."  It really is about the First Commandment - it's about our sinful desire to judge everything as "good" or "evil," about our desire to be proven right after all, about our desire to appear to be as wise as God.

You may well ask, "Didn't King David celebrate his victories over his enemies?"  And I might agree.  But who is the enemy here?  Is it really LeBron James?  Or even Osama bin Laden?  As theologian and philosopher Pogo the 'Possum was fond of saying, "We have met the enemy, and he is us."

Lord, teach me the compassion of Jesus.  Let me look always to the good of my neighbor, whomever he or she may be, and encourage that good.  Teach me to celebrate only the defeat of the real enemies - sin, and death, and Satan - by the cross and resurrection of Jesus.  Amen.

The languages of the Holy Spirit

Notes on a sermon for Pentecost Sunday, June 12, 2011

I just finished a week at another Formational Prayer Seminar at Ashland Theological Seminary, and came back home to Pentecost Sunday.  At Christ the King, we also welcomed baby Everett into the family of God through the Sacrament of Holy Baptism.  These three events - the Seminar, Everett's baptism, and Pentecost - combined in my heart and sermon to think about the languages of the Holy Spirit in a different way - one I hope you can help me expand on.

When the disciples received the gift of the Holy Spirit on that first Pentecost Sunday, the people around them heard the disciples speaking in languages the crowd knew, even though the disciples were all Galileans.  I'm pretty sure that baby Everett, young as he is, doesn't really understand English yet.  So as we welcome him into God's family through the work of the Holy Spirit, what languages does the Spirit give us to communicate the love of Jesus to him?

The language of belonging.  We welcome him into our midst.  We will smile whenever he comes.  We'll ask how he's doing.  Some of us will pass him around for a bit of snuggling.  He's part of our church family now, and all our actions can tell him that.

The language of love.  We can encourage his parents to show him their love.  We watch how his big sister loves him, and encourage her to keep it up.  We bless him with loving arms and hands and voices and faces.

The language of safety.  We are determined to help his parents nurture him and keep him safe, from the dangers of this world and from spiritual dangers also.  We will pray for him, and we will bless him.

The language of significance.  As with all children who are part of the Christ the King family, he will be welcomed into the worship community, where he will learn to sing and to say "Amen" and to received the blessing of Jesus as his parents bring him along with them to the Communion rail.  He may join me at the door after the service, to greet the people as they come out.  As he grows, we'll give him other important responsibilities among us.

As he grows among us, he'll eventually learn other languages of the Holy Spirit - the language of purpose and the language of understanding - but those will come in time.

In the meantime, we pour into him these languages that the Holy Spirit has given us through our own adoption as the children of God because we truly do welcome him and value him and want him to know that he belongs here.

Besides, as he grows it won't be too long before he begins to learn the languages of anger and of frustration and of mistrust, and a whole lot of other nasty stuff.  In this beginning, though, we keep on praying that the Spirit will give him, through us, a foundation of the Spirit's languages that will enable him to grow in grace and in the love of Jesus throughout his life.

"Closed on June 2"

That's the sign I saw in front of one store as I drove home yesterday.  It's a peculiarity of living near the Amish in the next county south - every spring, all the stores that deal with the Amish are closed on a particular Thursday.  For many folks (especially those wanting to take a day trip in the sunny springtime) this is a disappointment and a puzzlement.  But not for the Amish.

They seem to be some of the last Christians in the USA who still count 40 days after Easter and observe the Feast of the Ascension of Jesus into heaven in such an obvious, culture-challenging way - let's close the shops, forget business, and spend the day focused on the end of Jesus' earthly ministry.

And why not?  Our culture pays a lot of attention to the beginning of Jesus' earthly ministry (Christmas), and to the culmination of His earthly ministry (Easter), so why not to the event that marks the beginning of His ministry from His position at the right hand of the Father? 

Well, probably because there's no profit in it.  The Ascension hasn't become commercialized, like Christmas, and it hasn't become secularized, like Easter.  It is as it always was - forty days after Easter, the day when Jesus gathered His disciples together in His presence for the last time, and was taken up from them into heaven.  No wrapping paper, no candy, no "Ascension balloons" or similar senseless souvenirs.

And for that reason it's pretty much ignored, even by Christians.  Well, probably some Catholics will have special masses today; some Lutheran churches still have Ascension services (not many).  For most Christians, as for all the culture around us, Ascension day has come and will go without notice. 

Except among the Amish, God bless them!

Ps 8, 4-6 says of Christ: "What is man, that thou visitest him? For thou hast made him but little lower than God, and crownest him with glory and honor. Thou makest him to have dominion over the works of thy hands; thou hast put all things under his feet." Here the prophet speaks to God concerning a man and marvels that God humbled, for a time, that man, when he suffered him to die, humbled him to the extent that it seemed as if God were not with him. But after a little while God exalted him, so that all things must obey him, both in heaven and on earth. To these words we must hold, to these words we must cling, in these words we must believe; for reason will not submit nor adapt itself to them, but says they are lies. Now, if all things are to be subject to this being and to fall at his feet, he must sit where he can look into the whole world, into heaven and hell and every heart; where he can see all sin and all righteousness, and can not only see all things, but can rule accordingly.
     Hence, these are majestic and powerful words. They afford the heart great comfort, so that they who believe this are filled with joy and courage and defiantly say: My Lord Jesus Christ is Lord over death, Satan, sin, righteousness, body, life, foes and friends. What shall I fear? For while my enemies stand before my very door and plan to slay me, my faith reasons thus: Christ is ascended into heaven and become Lord over all creatures, hence my enemies, too, must be subject to him and thus it is not in their power to do me harm. I challenge them to raise a finger against me or to injure a hair of my head against the will of my Lord Jesus Christ. When faith grasps and stands upon this article, it stands firm and waxes bold and defiant, so as even to say: If my Lord so wills that they, mine enemies, slay me, blessed am I; I gladly depart. Thus you will see that he is ascended into heaven, not to remain in indifference, but to exercise dominion; and all for our good, to afford us comfort and joy.
     - Martin Luther, sermon on the Ascension of Christ, 1523