Jesus Wept

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Today’s readings (click below to open in new tab/window):
Psalms 51; 148, Job 29:1, 31:24-40, Acts 15:12-21, John 11:30-44


Anyone who grew up attending Sunday school has almost certainly been asked, at some point, to select and memorize a favorite Bible verse to share with the class. If the teacher isn’t savvy enough to exclude it, there’s always the one kid who picks John 11:35. In many (most?) translations, it’s the shortest verse in the Bible: “Jesus wept.”

When did Jesus weep? He wept when his friends were mourning the death of Lazarus. They kept insisting that he would have survived if Jesus had only gotten to Bethany sooner. Why did Jesus weep? We could suppose it was because Lazarus was his friend too, but Jesus had known for days that Lazarus was dead – and that he would bring him back from the grave. The story might suggest he was weeping in solidarity with his friends, but when the scripture says Jesus “was disturbed and greatly moved,” the original Greek points not to sadness but to indignation. Could it be that Jesus wept because he was frustrated and infuriated that after all the time he’d spent with them, those closest to him still understood neither who he was nor the life God offered through him? A Jesus who weeps because he grieves with us is a comforting image, but in this case it just isn’t so.

The weeping of an angry Jesus may at first seem disappointing or even unsettling. On reflection, what seemed like a humanizing, relatable moment may begin to feel like condemnation. Upon further consideration though, how can we not be touched by the idea that God deeply desires a relationship with us on a level that is so primal our inability to conceive of it frustrates Christ to tears? At one time or another all of us have been frustrated, also sometimes to tears, by a loved one who just seems lost. We want them to be whole and well. Christ loves us so much that he doesn’t just want to cry with us, but to help us understand how God’s love can lift us from this vale of tears to a place of peace.

Comfort: God’s love for you – for each of us – is beyond measure.

Challenge: Sometimes it is also beyond understanding.

Prayer: Merciful and Gracious God, thank you for the love you give me. Even when it is greater than I can understand – greater than I can believe I deserve – I remain grateful. Amen.

Discussion: Even death could not separate Lazarus from the love of Christ. Do you ever feel like you’ve stepped outside the boundaries of God’s love?

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The Future is Now

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Today’s readings (click below to open in new tab/window):
Psalms 97; 147:12-20, Job 29:1, 31:1-23, Acts 15:1-11, John 11:17-29


“The future is now.”

That’s what Jesus was trying to tell his friend Martha when she was grieving for her brother Lazarus. If only he had arrived earlier, she believed Jesus would have saved his life. When Jesus told her “Your brother will rise again,” she assumed he was referring to the resurrection in a distant future. Even after he said “I am the resurrection and the life,” she still didn’t quite get it: Jesus had every intention of bringing Lazarus back from the grave.

Christians spend a lot of time focusing on the afterlife. A lot. Of time. In many ways it makes sense – eternity is a long time and we don’t want to mess it up. But like Martha, we can lose sight of the here and now. It’s not just our faith that lives in the future; we spend a lot of time dismissing the present. We’ll start a diet “after the holidays” even if that holiday is Arbor Day. We’ll schedule that long vacation after our careers slow down a little. We’ll join that Bible study after we get our lives in order. That kind of thinking is a trap, because we train ourselves to believe nothing starts today.

Martha wouldn’t understand the resurrection was standing next to her until Lazarus crawled out of his tomb.  We should know better, but the promise of eternal life in the present moment can seem too good to be true. Jesus says otherwise. Do we think we need to improve ourselves before God can bless us? Before God can use us? If we believe that all good things come from God, why do we think we need to put Him off until we’ve laid all the groundwork? Aren’t we actually telling God … not yet?

The future really is now. Christ is among us. You are being called to rise up from underneath all that is burying you. You may have to shake off the dirt, but take that first step. Breathe the fresh air. Step into the life God has ready for you; Christ has already delivered your future.

For more thoughts on today’s passage from John 11, see It Takes a Village to Raise a Lazarus
For more thoughts on today’s passage from Acts 15, see Entrance Exams

Comfort: God is ready for you.

Challenge: Believe you are ready for God.

Prayer: Eternal God, teach me to find new life in the present, and to trust you with my future. Amen.

Discussion: What have you been putting off?

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Welcome to the Disreputable Brood

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Today’s readings (click below to open in new tab/window):
Psalms 119:49-72, Job 30:1–31, Acts 14:19-28. John 11:1-16


While describing his miserable lot, Job says the children of men he “would have disdained to set with the dogs” of his flock are now mocking him. He calls them a “senseless, disreputable brood” and offers as evidence the difficult lives they have led since being “driven out from society.” However, despite his own struggles, he does not seem to empathize with them. He claims to have “wept for those in trouble” and “grieved for the poor,” but his sympathies have definite limits. If irony were money his wealth would have been restored.

We can be a lot like Job. When bad things happen to us, we call it unfair. When bad things happen to other people, especially because of their own choices, part of us wants to believe things would have been different for us. Job’s friends insist he must be guilty of something partly because they are terrified to contemplate a world where they might suffer the same lot. In a less obvious way even young Elihu, who does not find Job guilty of anything, separates himself from Job by claiming Job’s suffering must be meant to instruct him in some special way. Not one of them accepts that fortune and misfortune are blind to virtue.

We don’t like to admit virtue is largely a matter of circumstance. While there are a few people of extraordinary character who rise above terrible experiences, and a few who are evil despite almost ideal upbringings, most of us are in large part who we were raised to be. We can’t honestly claim we are good (or better) in and of ourselves. A universe that favored the virtuous would actually be a universe that favored the lucky. God loves us all equally – lucky and unlucky, righteous and unrighteous – whether we are Job or the disreputable brood.

Why strive to be virtuous at all then? Because we seek a right relationship with God at all times. Not to earn God’s love or grace which are given freely, but to experience the eternal life – even in times of suffering – promised to us by Jesus.

Comfort: God understands and loves us all.

Challenge: Share a meal or cup of coffee with someone who is going through a bad time. Do not pity or advise them – just be there.

Prayer: God of earth and seed, plant empathy in my heart. Amen.

Discussion: Have you ever gotten into a debate that generated a lot of heat and little or no light?

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Right Thinking / Wrong Headed

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Today’s readings (click below to open in new tab/window):
Psalms 42; 146, Job 29:1-20, Acts 14:1-18, John 10:31-42


Jesus replied, “I have shown you many good works from the Father. For which of these are you going to stone me?” The Jews answered, “It is not a good work for which we are going to stone you, but for blasphemy.”
– John 10:32-33

No matter what power Jesus displayed, it was his words the Jewish leaders feared most. Maybe this was because their own power depended on strict adherence to the letter of the law, and not its spirit. They could handle transgressions against the specific rules, but a revolution in thinking was a serious threat to their power. Unfortunately, this attitude survives in some of our churches even today.

While the two great commandments are simply to love God and our neighbors, some churches more strongly emphasize specific beliefs, or right thinking. An insistence on right thinking is another form of legalism which betrays God’s command to love. Over the centuries Christians have been forced to accepted certain creeds or face rejection by the church. Many schisms – and denominations – are directly attributable to differences in theological opinions that have little if anything to do with loving God and our neighbors. Trinitarian vs. Unitarian; transubstantiation vs. consubstantiation; predestination vs. election; the list goes on and on. Christianity might be easier if we all thought alike, but we don’t – and aren’t required to!

Schisms are less common today – as we have already been divided along some pretty fine lines – but we still struggle with problems caused by an insistence on right thinking. When we don’t like the way another church thinks, we can be quick to dismiss the good it may do. We may withhold support from worthwhile projects because we don’t like a church’s liberal or conservative stance. This temptation is understandable, but who really pays the price for our stand, no matter how principled we believe it to be? Even when differences in thought result in persecution and enmity, we must remember we are called to love our enemies. We all naturally believe our own thinking is right, but none of us is as right as Christ.

Comfort: Grace doesn’t depend on being right.

Challenge: Consider what types of thinking keep you from loving.

Prayer: God of sky and waters, wash away divisions among your people. Amen.

Discussion: What creeds or doctrines have you questioned or challenged?

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Shaking the Dust

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Today’s readings (click below to open in new tab/window):
Psalms 5; 145,Job 32:1-10, 32:19-33:1, 33:19-28, Acts 13:44-52, John 10:19-30


One of the toughest parts of being a Christian is knowing when to quit. Not quitting Christianity of course, but quitting the things we think Good Christians™ are supposed to do.

Christ teaches us to turn the other cheek, forgive someone seventy-times-seven times, loan money without expectation of repayment, and give away our extra coat to someone in need. How tempting it is to rationalize away these instructions, and quit them too soon for “her own good” or “holding him accountable.” This attitude puts a burden of worthiness on the recipient of our mercies, and mercies that cost us nothing – neither pride nor wealth – are no real mercy.

Or we can become Good Christian™ doormats and allow others to exploit our intention to follow Christ. We quit too late, and what we thought was mercy is revealed to be enabling behavior, or perhaps someone’s insistence we be kind (“I thought you were a Christian”) shames us into being dupes.

Being “wise as serpents and innocent as doves” is a difficult balancing act.

Paul and Barnabas provide a solid example of establishing proper boundaries. When the Jews in Antioch rejected them, the Apostles left town and shook the dust from their shoes – a symbolic gesture for giving up on a place and its people. They’d done as Christ asked, but weren’t about to waste time banging their heads (or feet) against a wall.

We are called to be servants to one another, but not the kind of servants who hand the master a glass of milk they know has gone sour just because he insists on it. Rather, we are called to be servants who know when to tell the truth even if it’s difficult, and when to put the needs of others ahead of our own. Sacrificial love is not self-destructive love: we give away the extra coat no matter how much we want it, but Christ did not ask us to give away our only coat and freeze to death. When we lay down our lives for our friends, we do not die for them, but live for them.

Comfort: Do what you can, not what you can’t.

Challenge: Few of us are social workers, so it can sometimes be hard to determine how much help is the right amount. Develop a list of trusted people you can call on to help you through such times.

Prayer: God of mercy, may my heart and actions be a reflection of your love. Amen.

Discussion: When have you felt good about serving someone?

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Invitation: Garlic Bread

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Several years ago I was part of a mission trip to New Orleans, where we helped with the rebuilding effort in the Ninth Ward after Hurricane Katrina. A few Northern Indiana area churches drove down together, and we stayed at a mission station with another, larger group from Tennessee. The different churches rotated through some of the housekeeping activities: cleaning the bathrooms, preparing meals, doing laundry, and evening worship. Worship always involved communion, so the meal shoppers made sure bread was available.

Even the best schedules can fall apart, and one day the worship team members (all youth) were stuck at a work site an hour longer than they had planned. As the lasagna finished baking, they quickly pulled together a short but meaningful order of worship and selected some hymns. While we were cleaning up after the meal, a whisper traveled from table to table: there had been a mix-up, and all the bread had been basted in garlic and butter for the meal. There was no time to run to the Winn-Dixie before worship. What to do?

One of the young people suggested using the garlic bread. “Hey, Jesus used what was on the table,” he said. So that was what they did. Now in the Disciples of Christ we often distribute communion by intinction, which means the person takes bread and then dips it into the cup before eating it. At youth camp they call it rip-and-dip, or chunk-and-dunk.

As it turns out, garlic bread dipped in grape juice is less than appetizing. Not terrible, but weird and mildly unpleasant. Not things one generally associates with communion. No one said anything at the time, but as the evening wore on, several people began to grumble about how “disrespectful” it had been for the worship group to use garlic bread. One of the adults decided they needed to have a “talk” with the youth about how inappropriate their selection had been. As he offered his opinion, the kids looked deflated and started to apologize until one of the pastors interrupted him. “Excuse me,” she said, “these kids worked really hard today to make sure someone could get back in their home as early as possible. Not everything has to be someone’s fault. The communion wasn’t ideal, but perhaps we should focus on why we’re all here. And make sure we have bread for tomorrow.”

We have this idea that the holy should be pretty and palatable. But the sweaty work those kids did that day was holy. The stink they gave off because they decided to use their limited time to plan worship instead of showering … was holy. When we commune, all we can ever bring is what’s available to us. Some of us have the luxury of buying new whatever we need, and others find the holy in what is on the table, because God has provided it. When we say: “what you have to bring isn’t up to snuff,” what we are really saying is: “I refuse to see the holy in you.”

I’ll take weird garlicky communion that’s offered in love, over bland chunks that confuse respectability for holiness, every time. When we come to Christ’s table, we bring our holy and unholy selves. Maybe some of us do a better job of keeping the holy out front where everyone can see it, but that’s just window dressing. When we don’t like what someone brings to the table, that’s not a challenge to change them – it’s a challenge to change ourselves. And if meeting the needs of a community means we sometimes taste and smell bad … perhaps we should focus on why we’re all here. And make sure we have bread for tomorrow.

May the Peace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you all.

Plea Bargain

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Today’s readings (click below to open in new tab/window):
Psalms 103; 150, Job 25:1-6, Job 27:1-6, Revelation 14:1-7, 13, Matthew 5:13-20


Plea bargaining is a common but controversial practice. On one hand, it increases efficiency in an overburdened criminal justice system, and results in convictions that otherwise might not happen. On the other, many people believe plea bargaining results in unfair sentencing, an erosion of constitutional rights, and coerced confessions of (sometimes innocent) people who are too frightened and/or poor to demand a fair trial with adequate representation. Plea bargaining is a balance between getting things done, and getting things right. It forces us to ask whether an increased conviction rate is worth a decrease in fairness – or the right measure at all.

Job’s friend Bildad wanted him to plea bargain with God. Essentially he said: “Everybody’s guilty of something. Just admit your wrongdoing and this will all go away.” Job, rightly convinced of his own innocence, wasn’t having it: “[M]y lips will not speak falsehood, and my tongue will not utter deceit. Far be it from me to say that you are right; until I die I will not put away my integrity from me.” In the end, Job is justified; he is badly abused, but his righteousness remains unblemished.

When Jesus said he came not to abolish the law, but to fulfill it, he was preparing for the ultimate plea bargain. Guilty of nothing, he knowingly and willingly took our sin to the cross. Not just some of our sin – all of it. If we are willing to yoke our fate to his, to follow him through both destruction and glory, and to recognize our freedom is not of our own doing, the law no longer has power over us.

Very often God’s justice is an upside-down reflection of human justice. Rather than increasing the conviction rate, Christ’s sacrificial plea bargain reduced it to zero. Efficiency was measured not in condemnations, but in salvation. Unlike Job, we are all guilty of something. Let’s honor Christ’s sacrifice by admitting to every bit of it, by wringing out every drop of forgiveness and new life he offers. Let us beat our swords into plowshares, and prison bars into gates of welcome.

(for additional thoughts on today’s text from Matthew 5, see Lightly Salted)

Comfort: Jesus has already paid the price for your freedom.

Challenge: Forgiveness and freedom are meant to be passed along. Take some action to help address injustices in your own community.

Prayer: Lord of Heaven and Earth, I love you with all my heart, mind, and soul. Give me strength to love my neighbor as myself, and to love myself well. Amen.

Discussion: Watch this video on plea bargaining. What are your thoughts?

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Our Shepherd’s Voice

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Today’s readings (click below to open in new tab/window):
Psalms 63; 149, Job 22:1-4, 22:21-23:7, Acts 13:26-43, John 10:1-18


In his book Imaginary Jesus, author Matt Mikalatos provides many humorous examples of our tendency to re-create Jesus in our own image. From Liberal Social Services Jesus, to Truth Telling Conservative Jesus, we populate our spiritual lives with images of Jesus that reinforce our own inclinations. The apostles walked, spoke, and broke bread with Jesus every day, yet even they could misunderstand him; let’s not be too hasty to be sure we’ve got it right.

Jesus said: “I am the good shepherd. I know my own, and my own know me.” Sheep are safest when they stay within shouting distance, where the familiar voice of their shepherd can call them away from danger. Sheep are not especially bright however, and can be lured away by thieves and distractions. In our modern world, we must discern among the many competing voices claiming to speak for our shepherd. Jesus-peddlers who promise prosperity, bigots who preach hate of the “other,” legalists who reduce faith to a simple formula of do’s and don’ts – these types and more falsely appeal to our baser nature in the name of Jesus. Are we listening for our true shepherd, or are we listening for voices that tell us what we want to hear? A voice that never tells us we’re going the wrong way, that never causes us discomfort or inconvenience, that disapproves of all the people we do, is not the voice of a loving shepherd.

Through prayer and study we become familiar with our shepherd’s voice. We learn to trust him when he calls us away from pastures that seem lush but are prowled by wolves, and when he calls us down paths that seem treacherous but lead to abundance. Abraham followed the voice of his shepherd God even when it asked him to do the incomprehensible. Jacob recognized the voice of his shepherd even though it spoke to him in a dream. If they hadn’t been attuned to listening for their true shepherd, they could have missed these important messages. The voice of Jesus speaks words of both safety and challenge, of love and correction.

Comfort: Our shepherd is always calling us home.

Challenge: Many voices – sometimes even our own – falsely or mistakenly claim to speak for Jesus. Listen carefully.

Prayer: Creator and Shepherd, thank you for the safety of your fold. I will listen for your voice and yours alone. Amen.

Discussion: Have you ever realized the voice you were following was the wrong one? How did the true voice call you back home?

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Blind Faith

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Today’s readings (click below to open in new tab/window):
Psalms 84; 148, Job 19:1-7, 14-27, Acts 13:13-25, John 9:18-41


Author G.K. Chesterton asked why anyone would attempt to defend Christianity, since to defend a thing is to discredit it. What might he have made of the hundreds of books dedicated to apologetics which fill the shelves of almost any Christian bookstore? Of course we want to be able to talk intelligently about our faith, but is the truth of our faith ever adequately expressed in argument, no matter how well-reasoned?

When the man cured of blindness testified to the Pharisees about the impact Jesus had on his life, he didn’t construct a theological argument. He stated the simple truth: “I was blind, now I see.” Not much arguing with that statement, is there? The obvious changes faith has produced in our lives communicate the Good News more effectively than any appeal to reason or logic. Each of us has a different spin on the blind man’s truth. Maybe it’s “I was addicted, now I am recovering.” Or “I was in despair, now I am full of hope.” Or “I was angry, now I am at peace.” The reality of our story is its own defense.

A history professor once told me history shows us rationalism is not the only way of knowing about the world. In a culture demanding we reason our way to faith, this thought frees us from the need to understand everything in terms of pure intellect. This doesn’t mean science is out the window and superstition rules, but it does help us accept the untestable truth that putting our faith in God forever alters our lives.

Just as a strong faith doesn’t depend on a steady supply of supernatural signs, it also doesn’t rely on an unshakable foundation of logical proofs. They are two sides of the same coin. A lack of either should not derail our faith journey. The signposts that best help us find our way are the changes we experience in our own lives and see in the lives of others.

Perhaps another thought from Chesterton best summarizes today’s reflection: “Let your religion be less of a theory and more of a love affair.”

Comfort: Reason is compatible with faith, but faith does not depend on it.

Challenge: When you discuss the Christian faith, have confidence your own experience is a powerful testimony for the Gospel.

Prayer: God of life, thank you for the mysteries and realities of faith. Amen.

Discussion: Have you struggled to reconcile reason and faith?

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There’s none so blind as they that won’t see…

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Today’s readings (click below to open in new tab/window):
Psalms 116; 147:12-20, Job 16:16-22, 17:1, 17:13-16, Acts 13:1-12, John 9:1-17


Every summer we take our nephews camping. The campground’s many roads loop back on one another, so there are multiple ways to get places. One afternoon the younger nephew insisted we were taking the long way back to camp and kept trying to pull me down another road. I pointed toward our site: “Look, Jack, our tent is right there.” He said: “I don’t see it.” We did this twice more until I looked down and saw he’d shut his eyes tight.

Sight and blindness are important metaphors in the Bible. In today’s passage from John, we encounter a blind man who prompts Jesus to break Mosaic law and perform a healing on the Sabbath – a reminder that faith binds us to mercy, not legalism. In Acts, Saul and Barnabas meet Bar-Jesus, a Jewish magician and false prophet in the city of Paphos. Saul condemns Bar-Jesus for “making crooked the straight paths of the Lord” and the Spirit strikes the magician temporarily blind. His refusal to see the truth – and his attempt to lead others down the wrong road – put him in a debilitated state. If this seems harsh, remember Saul himself was struck blind by the Spirit before he accepted Christ, so what seems like a curse may have been a cure.

We’re all blind to something, especially our own shortcomings. Like the disciples asking whose sin caused the man’s blindness – his own or his parents – we want to point fingers. Certainly neither the man nor his parents were without sin (who is?) but Jesus focused on how God could transform the present situation. Jesus used spit and dirt to begin the healing process, but the man had to walk himself to a pool to wash the mud off. When we want to make ourselves whole, we need to have faith God does not limit us to the darkness of the past, but guides us to a brighter future. We may have to get our hands dirty with therapy, soul-searching, and hard decisions, but as the old hymn promises, the lost will be found and the blind will see.

(for another take on today’s reading from John, see Spit, Mud, and Healing)

Comfort: God is waiting to make you whole.

Challenge: You’re going to have to do some of the work.

Prayer: God of healing, granter of mercies, I seek the wholeness you offer. Amen.

Discussion: The title of today’s post is from Jonathan Swift’s Polite Conversation. What are some things you’ve tried not to see?

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