redemption

Ambassadors in Chains

/ JJS / 6 Comments

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Today’s readings:
Psalms 24; 150, Isaiah 11:1-9, Ephesians 6:10-20, John 3:16-21

Today we enter the fourth and final week of Advent. We look forward to celebrating the end our period of waiting. The date is on our calendars this and every year. And yet …

Does it feel like we live more in an ongoing Advent world than in a post-Christmas world? Yes, Christ has come and yes, we sing hymns of triumph but does the world seem like it’s been redeemed? Does it act like it?  God’s justice, while undeniable, seems to unfurl not so much from “glory to glory” as with “fits and starts.” The expansion of the Kingdom is a long, irregular process revealed in God’s time, which only on rare and happy occasions – perhaps we call them miracles – happens to coincide with our time. Yet Advent always concludes with Christmas.

When Paul wrote to the Ephesians from his imprisonment, he called himself as “an ambassador in chains.” Though he no longer considered himself under the Law, Paul still did not see himself as above the rules – the rules of decency, fairness, and love. The revolution he helped lead was one of peace and mercy. The body count was decidedly one-sided. While the powers-that-be were not constrained by love, Paul preached nothing but. Though playing by the rules – accepting our chains – puts us at a distinct disadvantage in the short term, the Kingdom for which we are also ambassadors demands a solid foundation. Force, coercion, and deceit are sand; even the Gospel crumbles when built upon them.

In our zeal to spread the Kingdom everywhere, Christianity has too often assumed the language and tactics of the empire we once confronted. We attempt to impose that which can’t even exist unless it is freely accepted. Winning people to Christ is not the same thing as using overwhelming force to make them act like “Christians.” Perhaps those chains exist because without them, we are dangerous to ourselves and others.

In many traditions, the fourth candle of the Advent wreath symbolizes love. Since Christ’s victory is already complete, we don’t need to worry about more victory. The best way to honor it is to share his love.

Comfort: Christ’s victory has already been won.

Challenge: Meditate on how you represent your faith to others. Is it an invitation or a demand?

Prayer: God of mercies, I seek to serve your Kingdom. Amen.

Discussion: Can you think of any modern examples of the church acting like the empire?

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Moving Target

/ JJS / 2 Comments

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Today’s readings (click below to open in new tab/window):
Psalms 54; 146, Ecclesiastes 2:16-26, Galatians 1:18-2:10, Matthew 13:53-58

The church is an easy target. As a human institution making the bold claim to represent Christ on earth, we paint that target on our own backs. Internal squabbling, failure to live up to our own standards, and outright corruption opens us to criticism from, well, everyone.

Because we are human we are often hypocrites, and because we are Christian we are charged with combating religious hypocrisy. Unfortunately our historical response to criticism of that paradox has been to double down on our own righteousness, thereby making the target ever broader. Calls to return to vague “traditional values” may feel satisfying to internal hardliners, but for those who are outside the church looking in, it only reinforces their perception of hypocrisy.

That’s not to say we shouldn’t strive for Godly lives. Of course we should! But when we fail and are called out for it, our response should be to look inward as mature people of faith, not to lash outward like children shifting blame.

If we are introspective (rather than defensive) about the health of the body of Christ, we just might conclude the honest and humble response to criticism is admitting we have always fallen short of our ideals. In his letter to the Galatians, Paul addresses a church that is only twenty years old. Already there is infighting between Paul and Peter over Gentile inclusion. Rival (he calls them false) interpreters of scripture and doctrine have infiltrated Galatia. He has to refute claims that he lacks the endorsement of Peter, James and other Apostles. A mere two decades in, the church was providing much of the same fodder for criticism it does today.

Maybe the church should be a target. Our promise is not that we are righteous, but that we are forgiven. Honest criticism can be the swift kick in the back door we need to remind ourselves. We need to own the infighting, particularly around matters of justice. A homogenized church at peace with itself is stagnant; a church in conversation with itself – even heated conversation – is making room for the Spirit to be heard. Intentionally or not, the message we send is: “We are better.” Nobody believes that, nor should they. The story we need to tell is: “We don’t claim to be better, but God’s loving mercy redeems us.” When that is the story we also tell ourselves, it becomes true.

Comfort: Being honest about our failings is a testament to God’s love.

Challenge: When you hear criticism, of the church or otherwise, take time for introspection before defending yourself.

Prayer: God of forgiveness, teach me to tell the story of your love. Amen.

Discussion: What hypocrisies of the church bother you the most? Where do you find productive places to discuss your concerns?

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Mercy in the Middle

/ JJS / 3 Comments

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Today’s readings (click below to open in new tab/window):
Psalms 102; 27; 147:12-20, Habakuk 3:1-10 (11-15) 16-18, Philippians 3:12-21, John 17:1-8

One of singer Amy Grant’s most powerful songs is “Ask Me,” the true story of a young girl who experiences sexual abuse in her home. The arc of the song is hopeful, but not naive. Ms. Grant follows in the footsteps of psalmists and prophets struggling to understand where God could be in the middle of terrible trials. Lent is the perfect time for us to ask these questions, to mourn the state of the world. This season reminds us why we need the savior to enter God’s creation again and again.

Psalm 102 uses striking images to illustrate its author’s misery. He eats ash and drinks tears. His bones burn like a furnace. His heart withers like grass. His enemies taunt him until he is helpless as a little bird on a rooftop. Psalm 27 is the plea of someone whose enemies devour his flesh and exhale violence. The prophet Habakuk has visions of war and famine. Yet in the midst of these terrible events, all these writers cry out to the Lord. Habakuk says despite all the horrors around him, “I will rejoice in the LORD; I will exult in the God of my salvation.”

Faith does not require us to pretend we are okay with everything in our lives. When parents or children fall seriously ill, when civilians are bombed, when we lose a job, when we struggle with depression, when natural disasters destroy communities … God does not require us to meekly accept it. We can rant and rail to God about injustice and pain because – as Ms. Grant sings – “He’s in the middle of [our] pain, in the middle of [our] shame.”

Sometimes life stinks, and God knows it. Psalmists, prophets, and terrified little girls survive not by pretending God makes everything OK, but by finding the peace that comes through suffering authentically in God’s presence. Christ is God’s incarnate presence in a grieving world. He doesn’t come to meet uncomplaining cheerleaders, but to share in our suffering and redeem it through his own. Embrace the brokenness of yourself and the world, for that is where peace begins.

Comfort: God is always with you, even when your suffering makes him seem far away.

Challenge: Throughout Lent, look for opportunities to let someone share their struggles with you. Don’t try to fix it – just be present.

Prayer: Gracious and merciful God, thank you for suffering with me through my struggles. Please help me to lean on your mercies when my difficulties seem overwhelming. As I bare my soul to you, share your peace with me so others may see it also. Amen.

Discussion: This reflection is on specific readings, but chances are no matter when you read this you are aware of some unfolding tragedy. How are you responding to it?

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Fail to Succeed

/ JJS / Leave a comment

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Today’s readings (click to open in new tab/window):
Psalms 5; 145, Proverbs 27:1-6, 10-12, Philippians 2:1-13, John 18:15-18, 25-27

Bodybuilders know the secret to success is failure. A muscle grows bigger and stronger only when it is worked until it fails. They reach for more than they know they can do, because they know the reward will be a stronger body. Every successful workout teaches them the limit of their strength.

Most of us are not experts at judging our own limits, physical or spiritual. When pressed we overestimate or underestimate our abilities. Many people who have gone through a crisis with a parent or child have said: “I didn’t know I could do it until I had to!”

Peter didn’t understand his own limits. Shortly before his crucifixion, Jesus predicted Peter would deny him three times. Of course Peter insisted he would never deny Jesus, but once the rubber hit the road Peter’s fear was greater than his faith. We can shake our heads at Peter, and insist just as hard as he did that we would not have been so faithless, but the truth is we don’t know. We have the advantage of knowing how it all turns out, but for Peter and the other disciples, Jesus’s death brought terror and confusion.

And yet … Jesus also predicted Peter would be the rock upon which he built his church. Jesus didn’t pick someone with a perfect faith, because that someone doesn’t exist. Later when Jesus appeared to the disciples after his resurrection, he asked Peter three times: “Do you love me?” For each failure, Jesus offered an opportunity for redemption.

Attempting only what we know is possible is not faith, it is fear. To grow our faith, we must be willing to test its limits – to trust God to carry us through things we don’t think we can do. When things don’t work out, remember Peter.

God knows we will fail. He can use each of those failures to make us better: more humble, more compassionate, less judgmental. We may need some recovery time – bodybuilders typically wait 24-48 hours before working the same muscles again – but after we recover we know our faith is stronger than it was before.

Comfort: Failure is always an option. Through God, so is redemption.

Challenge: Pick something you’ve been afraid to try, and trust God to see you through it. Even if you fail at it, God will be with you to dust you off.

Prayer: Thank you, O Lord, for the challenges which strengthen me. Amen.

Discussion: Have you ever been stronger than you thought you could be? If so, what or whom do you credit?

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Idols of Virtue

/ JJS / Leave a comment

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Today’s readings (click below to open in new tab/window):
Psalms 104; 149, 1 Kings 18:41-19:8, Philippians 3:17-4:7, Matthew 3:13-17

John the Baptist was the antithesis of the scribes and Pharisees in both his message and his appearance. Rather than the elaborate and expensive garments favored by the religious elite of his day, he wore a rough, inexpensive, and probably itchy garment made of camel’s hair. When he wasn’t fasting, he ate locusts and honey. His commitment to humility and simplicity was a physical representation of his message of baptism and repentance. It’s no surprise that when Jesus came to him and asked to be baptized, John humbly objected, saying “I need to be baptized by you, and do you come to me?” When Jesus said “Let it be so now; for it is proper for us in this way to fulfill all righteousness” he consented.

Though he briefly questioned Jesus’ instructions, John was more committed to Christ than to humility.

Can we always say the same? Maybe it’s not humility we turn into an idol. Maybe it’s tithing. Or virginity. Temperance. Or – in an oddly paradoxical progressive twist – moralizing against the foibles of Christian culture (guilty).

Such spiritual disciplines can be excellent means of exploring and expressing our faith – many of them are even direct commandments – but we must remember they are tools and not currency; they do not buy us God’s favor – rather, they help us build an understanding  of God’s goodness and our relationship with our creator. We must remember they are tools and not weapons; when Christ and Paul talk to us about what is right and wrong it is so we can change our own hearts, not so we can aim those words at others who fail to fall in line.  Currency and weapons, even in a spiritual sense, are seductive idols; they offer us a false sense of control and power when we should be seeking to surrender.

So are we free to do whatever we wish? Of course not. But our moral successes and failures do not save us; Christ already did that. We can accept or reject that redemption, but we can’t diminish or improve upon it. Be generous. Be chaste. Be sober. But be these things out of grateful obedience, not because you think they can save you.

Comfort: Jesus has already done the work of your redemption. 

Challenge: Meditate on whether your spiritual impulses are motivated by gratitude or fear.

Prayer: God of Mercy, thank you for Christ the Redeemer. Amen. 

Discussion: When do you feel like you let God down?

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Beautifully Broken

/ JJS / Leave a comment

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Today’s readings (click below to open in new tab/window):
Psalms 84; 148, Isaiah 55:1-13, Galatians 5:16-24, Mark 9:2-13

Christians have an image problem. Like any other group in the age of the 24-hour news cycle, our most extreme and attention-grabbing brothers and sisters make the news and tell our story … whether we’d like them to or not. When a tiny church comprised of a handful of family members pickets military funerals to protest homosexuality, they make national headlines for years. A “family-values” politician caught in an affair becomes a media spectacle and fodder for those who would point out Christian hypocrisy. These types of public relations problems are not unique to Christians, or even religious groups. The public is fascinated with scandals, especially when they involve someone who has portrayed him- or herself as a “righteous” person.

Paul seems to draw distinct lines between the drunken, quarrelsome fornicators who will not inherit the kingdom of God, and the joyful, generous peacemakers who will. We want to heed his words: for good or ill, the behaviors he describes do have consequences in our lives and relationships with God and each other. As Christians we can feel pressure to appear as if we have all the good qualities and none of the bad. In reality, we have the same faults and foibles as everyone else, and when we pretend otherwise, people can practically smell the insincerity. Humbly acknowledging our own flaws doesn’t diminish our witness. To the contrary it tells the true story of grace: not that we become perfect, but that we accept God’s love despite our imperfections.

Acknowledging our flaws doesn’t mean we should settle for them. As we grow in our faith, our behaviors and attitudes will reflect that growth. When someone is thoroughly grounded in her or his faith, other struggling people – believers and non-believers alike – feel comfortable enough with that person to be truthful. To love like Christ loves, we must recognize a person’s brokenness without defining them by it. Let’s do our part to fix that image problem by showing the world following Christ means being humble and truthful. As Christ’s broken body heals the world, our broken and contrite hearts do also.

Comfort: God loves you broken, but doesn’t leave you broken.

Challenge: Resist the urge to make yourself look good. Instead try to be faithful.

Prayer: Thank you God for the love, forgiveness, and healing found in your grace. Amen.

Discussion: Common wisdom says we despise in others the flaws we struggle with ourselves. Do you find this to be true?

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