Today's Reading: Matthew 24
A funny thing happens to me when I read a passage using lectio divina style. Lectio Divina is an ancient practice of slowly and meditatively reading scripture. As you read, you wait for a phrase or word to leap out at you. Once it does, you hold it, examine it and listen to what God is saying to you through it.
Today, I was fascinated by the phrase "Jesus left the temple and walked away."
I set that phrase in the floor of my mind and walked around it, looking at it from many angles.
On the surface, Jesus has finished worship and is leaving that holy space to continue his day. Perhaps he has been refreshed by being with other believers and now continues on his journey.
But then I think, how does Jesus worship if he himself is God and is the object of all worship in heaven, on earth and under the earth? I also ponder that it is not possible for Jesus to leave a holy place because his very presence makes any place holy.
Hmmm....
As I move around this phrase, I ask myself, "How can Jesus leave the temple when he himself IS the temple?" I then remember how God's vision of a place of worship is a tabernacle--a place which moves wherever God leads, a tent not set in stone. This temple cannot move. It cannot follow Jesus. It is as stuck in its traditions and falsehood as it is upon its foundation. Is Jesus leaving and walking away from the cultic center of a people, and therefore walking away from them?
Hmmm...
As I walk around this passage, I bump into Jesus' disciples who are examining their own lectio divina word. They are stuck on the temple. "Come over here, Jesus," they say. "Come over here and look at this temple, these gorgeous stones. Let's stand and ponder them awhile."
I want to laugh at them. I want to tell them they are distracted by stones and buildings. I want to tell them they have once again missed the point. Don't they see Jesus? Don't they know he is the stone, the rock of all ages? Don't they know he is the temple, the living, moving presence of God? Why do they think they need to show Jesus anything he doesn't already see? Is Jesus so dull that he needs his disciples to call his attention to anything, much less a building? Haven't they learned the things which bring awe to people are usually the very things Jesus leaves behind--walks away from?
As I pick up my phrase and now walk further in the passage, Jesus is warning me not to be deceived, not to be distracted by false teachers, false messiahs. "Walk away from them and follow me," I hear him say.
LORD, today you must teach me to recognize and leave the false.
LORD, today you must teach me to not be distracted by the things of this world.
LORD, today you must teach me to listen to your warning and to walk into your great unknown.
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Day 309: Self Conscious
Today's Reading: Mark 13
Sometimes I think of martyrdom.
I wonder, if I were arrested and tortured for my faith, would I be able to stand.
These thoughts scare me at first. I think about the pain to my body, the disgrace, the shame. I think about how weak I am; how quickly I would deny my whole Source of Meaning for a moment of relief or comfort. I think about how stupidly unwise I am; how easy it would be to trick me or ensnare me in a lie.
I become very conscious of myself--my inabilities, my frailties, my lack of courage.
I think of martyrdom because Jesus tells me and all Christians to be ready; be prepared. Am I a fool to think such a thing could happen to me, a law abiding American? Or is God warning me to be aware?
I cannot say why I think of martyrdom.
I am not an overly dramatic person, perhaps just a very realistic one.
One would think these thoughts would scare me half to death, and they do, at first. But then, in my head--in the recesses of my memory bank--is planted Jesus' promise to his disciples.
If, in the moment of trial, I can put aside my self consciousness and, by God's grace, have Holy Spirit consciousness, I need not worry. God will use His instrument--my mouth, my body, my life--upon which to play His truth.
When I think of martyrdom, I am comforted.
I have The Comforter to guard me against falling prey to the comforts of this kingdom on earth. This Comforter will bear its on testimony to my soul. This Comforter gives me peace, above my understanding.
Sometimes I think of martyrdom.
I wonder, if I were arrested and tortured for my faith, would I be able to stand.
These thoughts scare me at first. I think about the pain to my body, the disgrace, the shame. I think about how weak I am; how quickly I would deny my whole Source of Meaning for a moment of relief or comfort. I think about how stupidly unwise I am; how easy it would be to trick me or ensnare me in a lie.
I become very conscious of myself--my inabilities, my frailties, my lack of courage.
I think of martyrdom because Jesus tells me and all Christians to be ready; be prepared. Am I a fool to think such a thing could happen to me, a law abiding American? Or is God warning me to be aware?
I cannot say why I think of martyrdom.
I am not an overly dramatic person, perhaps just a very realistic one.
One would think these thoughts would scare me half to death, and they do, at first. But then, in my head--in the recesses of my memory bank--is planted Jesus' promise to his disciples.
Whenever you are arrested and brought to trial, do not worry beforehand about what to say. Just say whatever is given you at the time, for it is not you speaking, but the Holy Spirit.
If, in the moment of trial, I can put aside my self consciousness and, by God's grace, have Holy Spirit consciousness, I need not worry. God will use His instrument--my mouth, my body, my life--upon which to play His truth.
When I think of martyrdom, I am comforted.
I have The Comforter to guard me against falling prey to the comforts of this kingdom on earth. This Comforter will bear its on testimony to my soul. This Comforter gives me peace, above my understanding.
Day 308: Careful, careful, careful
Today's Reading: Matthew 23, Luke 20-21
Memo to self: Careful, careful, careful!
1. When you preach, do not beat the flock. Remember, you are preaching to yourself more strongly than to anyone else. Remember, you are a sinner. Careful, careful, careful.
2. Do not expect others to carry the load if you are not right there beside them. Remember, your own burdens have been carried by Christ and many by them. Remember, you are a servant. Careful, careful, careful.
3. Do not parade about or lord over others. Remember, keep your spirit humble by frequent private visits with God. Remember, you are just one of the multitude of believing priests. Careful, careful, careful.
4. Crucify your pride; you are no better than anyone. Remember to take the lowest seat and seek the last place. Remember, the glory is not yours, it is God's. Careful, careful, careful.
5. Beware of titles; use them only when necessary. Remember, you are no better because of your education or ordination. Remember, you belong to God. Careful, careful, careful.
6. Watch out for the bragging tongue. Remember your Teacher, your Messiah. Remember, you are to boast only in him. Careful, careful, careful.
Memo to self: Careful, careful, careful!
1. When you preach, do not beat the flock. Remember, you are preaching to yourself more strongly than to anyone else. Remember, you are a sinner. Careful, careful, careful.
2. Do not expect others to carry the load if you are not right there beside them. Remember, your own burdens have been carried by Christ and many by them. Remember, you are a servant. Careful, careful, careful.
3. Do not parade about or lord over others. Remember, keep your spirit humble by frequent private visits with God. Remember, you are just one of the multitude of believing priests. Careful, careful, careful.
4. Crucify your pride; you are no better than anyone. Remember to take the lowest seat and seek the last place. Remember, the glory is not yours, it is God's. Careful, careful, careful.
5. Beware of titles; use them only when necessary. Remember, you are no better because of your education or ordination. Remember, you belong to God. Careful, careful, careful.
6. Watch out for the bragging tongue. Remember your Teacher, your Messiah. Remember, you are to boast only in him. Careful, careful, careful.
Day 307: Why do they hate you, Jesus?
Today's Reading: Matthew 22, Mark 12
Why do they hate you, Jesus Dear?
Why do they set for you a snare?
Why do they question the Son of God?
Why do they hate you, Jesus?
Is it because you're so very kind?
Is it because you draw the line?
Is it because you're the Son of God?
Why do they hate you, Jesus?
Is it because you welcome the child?
Is it because with the sinner you're mild?
Is it because you're the Son of God?
Why do they hate you, Jesus?
Perhaps it's because the stories you tell.
Perhaps it's because with the lepers you dwell.
Perhaps it's because you're the Son of God.
Why do they hate you, Jesus?
Maybe your eyes see too much truth.
Maybe your words leave their lying lips mute.
Maybe they can't bear the Son of God.
Why do they hate you, Jesus?
I think the cause is you bring them fear.
You challenge the value of all they hold dear.
They cannot bear you, O Son of God.
That's why they hate you, Jesus.
Your presence alone is too much for them.
Your purpose exposes their every whim.
They want to destroy you, O Son of God.
They really hate you, Jesus.
Your sword of truth cuts them to the quick
They plot and they ploy in order to trick
The all seeing and knowing Son of God.
Why don't you hate them, Jesus?
Do you not hate their sneering eyes?
Do you not hate their accusing lies?
How can you stand them, O Son of God?
Why don't you hate them, Jesus?
How can your garment of blood cover all?
Why do you anguish to cancel the fall?
How can this be, O true Son of God?
Why do you love us, Jesus?
Why do they hate you, Jesus Dear?
Why do they set for you a snare?
Why do they question the Son of God?
Why do they hate you, Jesus?
Is it because you're so very kind?
Is it because you draw the line?
Is it because you're the Son of God?
Why do they hate you, Jesus?
Is it because you welcome the child?
Is it because with the sinner you're mild?
Is it because you're the Son of God?
Why do they hate you, Jesus?
Perhaps it's because the stories you tell.
Perhaps it's because with the lepers you dwell.
Perhaps it's because you're the Son of God.
Why do they hate you, Jesus?
Maybe your eyes see too much truth.
Maybe your words leave their lying lips mute.
Maybe they can't bear the Son of God.
Why do they hate you, Jesus?
I think the cause is you bring them fear.
You challenge the value of all they hold dear.
They cannot bear you, O Son of God.
That's why they hate you, Jesus.
Your presence alone is too much for them.
Your purpose exposes their every whim.
They want to destroy you, O Son of God.
They really hate you, Jesus.
Your sword of truth cuts them to the quick
They plot and they ploy in order to trick
The all seeing and knowing Son of God.
Why don't you hate them, Jesus?
Do you not hate their sneering eyes?
Do you not hate their accusing lies?
How can you stand them, O Son of God?
Why don't you hate them, Jesus?
How can your garment of blood cover all?
Why do you anguish to cancel the fall?
How can this be, O true Son of God?
Why do you love us, Jesus?
Day 306: Save us!
Today's Reading: Mark 11, John 12
I have noticed something about myself. Sometimes, when singing national anthems or patriotic songs, I am so swept up in the music, the emotion, the tradition, the regal-ness of the moment, I miss the words I am singing. The words become a part of the rote ritual. Because of the swelling of the heart brought upon by the moment, I miss the meaning. I love the moment; I love the unity of the crowd, the vocal chorus of a thousand voices, the joy of being a part of the larger whole.
I wonder if this is how the woman or the man or the little child upon the shoulder of her father felt as they waved the palm flags over their heads and cried, "Hosanna!" Was it a sunny day? Was it a perfect day for the parade? Were they tired of the dullness of life and longing for a festival? Was someone selling olives and figs to raise money for the synagogue or local children's sports group? Were town musicians on hand to keep the crowd merry and entertained? Were young maids vying to be crowned "Palm Princess?"
Does anyone now or did anyone then see the sacrifice about to be made by the one at the very center of the street? Did they hear the prayer of their own word, "Hosanna!--save us, now!" Did anyone even have a clue as to their deep need and the great cost to meet that need?
Just as we see soldiers in dress uniform marching to the beat of the drum and the music of the band and think, "O how handsome! O how wonderful!" and do not consider toward what they are marching, I believe the crowd on that first Palm Sunday had no idea what was before the Man they were heralding.
Soon, the soldiers will load the boats or the planes and be taken into the fray of the battle. Soon, the Christ will load the cross and be the target of all of Satan's fury and fiery arrows.
We smile and cheer and sing our songs, and cannot imagine what lies ahead. We do not comprehend the cost of the requested salvation.
I have noticed something about myself. Sometimes, when singing national anthems or patriotic songs, I am so swept up in the music, the emotion, the tradition, the regal-ness of the moment, I miss the words I am singing. The words become a part of the rote ritual. Because of the swelling of the heart brought upon by the moment, I miss the meaning. I love the moment; I love the unity of the crowd, the vocal chorus of a thousand voices, the joy of being a part of the larger whole.
I wonder if this is how the woman or the man or the little child upon the shoulder of her father felt as they waved the palm flags over their heads and cried, "Hosanna!" Was it a sunny day? Was it a perfect day for the parade? Were they tired of the dullness of life and longing for a festival? Was someone selling olives and figs to raise money for the synagogue or local children's sports group? Were town musicians on hand to keep the crowd merry and entertained? Were young maids vying to be crowned "Palm Princess?"
Does anyone now or did anyone then see the sacrifice about to be made by the one at the very center of the street? Did they hear the prayer of their own word, "Hosanna!--save us, now!" Did anyone even have a clue as to their deep need and the great cost to meet that need?
Just as we see soldiers in dress uniform marching to the beat of the drum and the music of the band and think, "O how handsome! O how wonderful!" and do not consider toward what they are marching, I believe the crowd on that first Palm Sunday had no idea what was before the Man they were heralding.
Soon, the soldiers will load the boats or the planes and be taken into the fray of the battle. Soon, the Christ will load the cross and be the target of all of Satan's fury and fiery arrows.
We smile and cheer and sing our songs, and cannot imagine what lies ahead. We do not comprehend the cost of the requested salvation.
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Day 305: The little donkey
Today's Reading: Luke 18:15-19:48
I woke this morning at the dawn
And put my muddy boots upon
My feet and trudged out to the barn
To feed my gentle donkey.
Her foal, a frisky little thing,
Nudged at her teet, the milk to bring,
I brought her oats, she thought I king!
I stroked my gentle donkey.
Each day, this ritual performed
Each day, inside our musty barn
Each day, upon each chilly morn
Tending my gentle donkey.
One day a knock came at my door
Two men I had not seen before
Two men now seeking to implore
About my gentle donkey.
They looked her up, they looked her down
And then upon the colt's fair crown
They pat his back, his belly round
Wanting my gentle donkey.
"This young unbridled buck will do."
I asked, "For what?" And "Why?" And "Who?"
"It's what the LORD requires of you."
They said, about my donkey.
From time beginning was the plan
For this young buck to bear the Man
Upon whom all Creation stands
Who'll ride my little donkey.
And so the donkey was not mine
But created for this time
When all of life will sing the rhyme--
The King upon His donkey.
The reins I put into his hand.
Such joy to think me in the plan
To raise, and then be in the band
Led by this little donkey.
O LORD, you are so good and fair
To let me in your kingdom share
By tending and by giving care
To yours--Your little donkey.
I woke this morning at the dawn
And put my muddy boots upon
My feet and trudged out to the barn
To feed my gentle donkey.
Her foal, a frisky little thing,
Nudged at her teet, the milk to bring,
I brought her oats, she thought I king!
I stroked my gentle donkey.
Each day, this ritual performed
Each day, inside our musty barn
Each day, upon each chilly morn
Tending my gentle donkey.
One day a knock came at my door
Two men I had not seen before
Two men now seeking to implore
About my gentle donkey.
They looked her up, they looked her down
And then upon the colt's fair crown
They pat his back, his belly round
Wanting my gentle donkey.
"This young unbridled buck will do."
I asked, "For what?" And "Why?" And "Who?"
"It's what the LORD requires of you."
They said, about my donkey.
From time beginning was the plan
For this young buck to bear the Man
Upon whom all Creation stands
Who'll ride my little donkey.
And so the donkey was not mine
But created for this time
When all of life will sing the rhyme--
The King upon His donkey.
The reins I put into his hand.
Such joy to think me in the plan
To raise, and then be in the band
Led by this little donkey.
O LORD, you are so good and fair
To let me in your kingdom share
By tending and by giving care
To yours--Your little donkey.
Monday, November 1, 2010
Day 304: My favorite parable!
Today's Reading: Matthew 20-21
What's your favorite parable? For many, the parable of the Prodigal Son gets top bid. Other's who love the twenty-third Psalm vote for the parable of the Good Shepherd. The parable of the workers in the vineyard is my very most favorite one of all.
To me as one who has "worked in the vineyard" since the early morning, it gives great hope and intense joy to think it is never too late here on this earth to turn to Jesus. What absolutely gorgeous grace!
Many get upset with this parable, as if working in the fields of the LORD was a labor not filled with joy. To me, being a Christian and walking with the LORD with the Holy Spirit to guide me has been the most abundant life I can imagine! Oh, that everyone could feel such contentment and joy their whole lives long.
And as far as heaven goes, I say, the more the merrier! Why would anyone who loves the LORD want to complain about more people receiving mercy, just like me. Grace is an amazing thing---the more Christ shares, the more there is.
So here's to the 9:00, Noon, 3:00, 6:00 and late evening entrants into the vineyard. I say, welcome, and pass them a glass of wine!
My Father says:
My house must be filled; Come in!
The table is spread; Come in!
You who are hungry for righteousness--Come in!
What's your favorite parable? For many, the parable of the Prodigal Son gets top bid. Other's who love the twenty-third Psalm vote for the parable of the Good Shepherd. The parable of the workers in the vineyard is my very most favorite one of all.
To me as one who has "worked in the vineyard" since the early morning, it gives great hope and intense joy to think it is never too late here on this earth to turn to Jesus. What absolutely gorgeous grace!
Many get upset with this parable, as if working in the fields of the LORD was a labor not filled with joy. To me, being a Christian and walking with the LORD with the Holy Spirit to guide me has been the most abundant life I can imagine! Oh, that everyone could feel such contentment and joy their whole lives long.
And as far as heaven goes, I say, the more the merrier! Why would anyone who loves the LORD want to complain about more people receiving mercy, just like me. Grace is an amazing thing---the more Christ shares, the more there is.
So here's to the 9:00, Noon, 3:00, 6:00 and late evening entrants into the vineyard. I say, welcome, and pass them a glass of wine!
My Father says:
My house must be filled; Come in!
The table is spread; Come in!
You who are hungry for righteousness--Come in!
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