Hear the word of the Lord:
He left that place and came to his hometown,
and his disciples followed him.
On the sabbath he began to teach in the synagogue,
and many who heard him were astounded.
They said, "Where did this man get all this?
What is this wisdom that has been given to him?
What deeds of power are being done by his hands!
Is not this the carpenter, the son of Mary and brother of
James and Joses and Judas and Simon,
and are not his sisters here with us?"
And they took offense at him.
Then Jesus said to them, "Prophets are not without honor,
except in their hometown, and among their own kin,
and in their own house."
And he could do no deed of power there,
except that he laid his hands on a few sick people and cured them.
And he was amazed at their unbelief.
Have you ever wondered why this is true,
“Prophets are not without honor,
except in their hometown?” I know that I have.
It is so counterintuitive that, honestly, I used to doubt it.
Not anymore.
When you think about it, it makes sense.
These people know Jesus. They know his folks, and his brothers
and sisters still live right there in town.
A couple of them probably have tables, or chairs,
or yokes for their oxen that Jesus has made.
When he reads from the scriptures in the synagogue,
Jesus reads from the same text, and he stands in the same place,
looking substantially the same as he did just a few years ago.
Yet he sounds so different. Can you imagine what they think?
We know this place.
We know this person.
We know this book.
We even know these words.
But we’ve never heard these words put together like this.
Not ever.
The people of God at Nazareth know their Torah.
They know it so well that they have an answer for every hard text.
Now this Jesus comes and reads this text totally differently.
What kind of new way is he reading the Prophets?
How can he disregard the old way of reading he was taught?
Where does he get this stuff?
They are partly right; the old readings of the prophets were true.
What they fail to take into account is a change in context.
Their interpretation was true before Jesus started his ministry.
Before this, Jesus, the ultimate fulfillment of those prophecies
was still in the future. Not anymore. God is here in the flesh.
Can we imagine what it might be like to read about someone,
to look for someone your whole life, and miss him when he comes?
The people in Nazareth know him too well to recognize
who he really is.
I wonder what we miss when we fail to listen to the ways that
our children read the scriptures? Think about that.
On the other hand, can we imagine the frustration of Jesus?
His own people didn’t know him, didn’t recognize who he really was.
Now they’ve become people that he can’t recognize either.
Where is the giant of faith alongside of whom he used to chant,
“Shema, Israel – Adonai elohenu, adonai ehad.”
Where are the loving souls who embraced him when he was young,
praising him, “You read so well from the Torah today!”
No wonder Jesus is heartbroken; no wonder he is powerless
to do any miracles here; here, home, an oasis of faith turned desert.
Jesus is amazed, but for all the wrong reasons.
So, because this community will not hear its own child,
that child leaves them to go teach those who will listen,
those who will believe. The blessing that could have been theirs,
will now be given to others. If you don’t think it’s good news,
then it’s not gospel to you; it's tragedy.
A community that will not honor the prophetic voice
of its children loses:
Its children,
The honor that it has before God,
The prophetic voice that connects it with truth.
Think about it.
Blessings,
Ron
Mark 6:1-6 – NRSV
Showing posts with label home. Show all posts
Showing posts with label home. Show all posts
Monday, July 6, 2009
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Time to spread our wings ...
There is a song we have sung many times in many places. It is a song that meant a lot to some dear saints I have known. Some of them sang it from the day that it first was sung in our churches:
I’ll Fly Away
Albert E. Brumley
Some glad morning when this life is o’er,
I’ll fly away;
To a home on God’s celestial shore,
I’ll fly away.
When the shadows of this life have grown,
I’ll fly away;
Like a bird from prison bars has flown,
I’ll fly away.
Just a few more weary days and then,
I’ll fly away;
To a land where joys shall never end,
I’ll fly away.
I’ll fly away, O glory, I’ll fly away;
When I die, Hallelujah, by and by,
I’ll fly away.
Now, I have to tell you that I have always been fond of this song because of the people with whom I have sung it, and the places where we sang it. But lately, that fondness is more for sentimental feelings than theological reasons. What’s the problem?
Life seemed pretty grim nearly everywhere in 1932, the year that Albert wrote this song. There was a Depression, and it seemed to people that the efforts of humanity were futile. The Modern future that seemed so bright just a couple of decades previously had taken a severe beating from a World War, and then came a world-wide economic disaster. Over the next decade, things would get much worse before getting any better. If there was any hope, it didn’t appear to be on this planet, but in the next world.
Consequently, this world became something to endure: life, shadows, prison bars, and weary days. Even in pain or poverty, is this how God means for us to see this world? Are these the feelings that we are meant to experience in these difficult days and circumstances? Is our hope merely for the final coming of Jesus? I think not.
Our future is not when this life is over, it is not when the shadows have lengthened into those of the Psalmist’s valley, it is not after a few more weary days. Our future is our next instant, our next moment in time. The future is not however many days, months or years from now that God takes us to heaven, but the end of this paragraph.
Our hope is that the power of God working through his people can make the world a little better today so that tomorrow starts off from a better place. Such a place will require constant tending, but hope tells us that there is a way for things to be better. It may not be better everywhere, but with our hope and action, and God’s approval and providence, it is possible for it to be better here, soon.
Yes, the kingdom of God has come, and the church is the vanguard of it. But it is not yet completely here. We are called to be co-workers in that kingdom, not spectators. It is our job to bring a little more of the kingdom into this world day by day. We will never complete the job in our lifetime, but surely redeeming humanity and this planet is something that was intended to be our lives’ work, and not a mess to be left entirely for God to clean up in the “end times.”
Yes, I believe that God has a home on his celestial shore, but I also believe that he has one in Hollis, Oklahoma. It may not seem like heaven all of the time to all of its inhabitants, but our job is to make it the closest approximation that we can with the time and the resources that God has given to us. Heaven won’t have prison bars, but neither does this; we have the free will to choose ways to be a people who love and nurture needy children for the glory of God. He has given us freedom to work, and worship, and yes, even to play so as to delight in that freedom and glorify him with it. Yes, joys will never end in heaven, but we ought to find plenty of them here. We should be doing a little more than taste-testing the delights of paradise.
O, I’ll fly away one of these days, but that means that I had better learn how to spread my wings now. I don’t want to wait until I’m shoved out of the nest to see what they feel like.
Grace and peace,
Ron
I’ll Fly Away
Albert E. Brumley
Some glad morning when this life is o’er,
I’ll fly away;
To a home on God’s celestial shore,
I’ll fly away.
When the shadows of this life have grown,
I’ll fly away;
Like a bird from prison bars has flown,
I’ll fly away.
Just a few more weary days and then,
I’ll fly away;
To a land where joys shall never end,
I’ll fly away.
I’ll fly away, O glory, I’ll fly away;
When I die, Hallelujah, by and by,
I’ll fly away.
Now, I have to tell you that I have always been fond of this song because of the people with whom I have sung it, and the places where we sang it. But lately, that fondness is more for sentimental feelings than theological reasons. What’s the problem?
Life seemed pretty grim nearly everywhere in 1932, the year that Albert wrote this song. There was a Depression, and it seemed to people that the efforts of humanity were futile. The Modern future that seemed so bright just a couple of decades previously had taken a severe beating from a World War, and then came a world-wide economic disaster. Over the next decade, things would get much worse before getting any better. If there was any hope, it didn’t appear to be on this planet, but in the next world.
Consequently, this world became something to endure: life, shadows, prison bars, and weary days. Even in pain or poverty, is this how God means for us to see this world? Are these the feelings that we are meant to experience in these difficult days and circumstances? Is our hope merely for the final coming of Jesus? I think not.
Our future is not when this life is over, it is not when the shadows have lengthened into those of the Psalmist’s valley, it is not after a few more weary days. Our future is our next instant, our next moment in time. The future is not however many days, months or years from now that God takes us to heaven, but the end of this paragraph.
Our hope is that the power of God working through his people can make the world a little better today so that tomorrow starts off from a better place. Such a place will require constant tending, but hope tells us that there is a way for things to be better. It may not be better everywhere, but with our hope and action, and God’s approval and providence, it is possible for it to be better here, soon.
Yes, the kingdom of God has come, and the church is the vanguard of it. But it is not yet completely here. We are called to be co-workers in that kingdom, not spectators. It is our job to bring a little more of the kingdom into this world day by day. We will never complete the job in our lifetime, but surely redeeming humanity and this planet is something that was intended to be our lives’ work, and not a mess to be left entirely for God to clean up in the “end times.”
Yes, I believe that God has a home on his celestial shore, but I also believe that he has one in Hollis, Oklahoma. It may not seem like heaven all of the time to all of its inhabitants, but our job is to make it the closest approximation that we can with the time and the resources that God has given to us. Heaven won’t have prison bars, but neither does this; we have the free will to choose ways to be a people who love and nurture needy children for the glory of God. He has given us freedom to work, and worship, and yes, even to play so as to delight in that freedom and glorify him with it. Yes, joys will never end in heaven, but we ought to find plenty of them here. We should be doing a little more than taste-testing the delights of paradise.
O, I’ll fly away one of these days, but that means that I had better learn how to spread my wings now. I don’t want to wait until I’m shoved out of the nest to see what they feel like.
Grace and peace,
Ron
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
We will not keep silent . . .
Nearly 20 years ago, Ann and I drove up from our home in Richardson, Texas, to visit my folks. On Sunday morning, we went to visit the church at which I had grown up. It was good to see those whom we had known for so long, and those with whom we had shared so much.
All was well until we started to sing. From behind me to my left, I could hear the voice of one with whom I had grown up; the kind of friend who always has been, and always will be, a sister to both of us. From behind me to my right, I could hear the voice of a woman who is like my second mother, and who is like another mother to Ann. The words and the music and the singers marched us in step right back Home. Ann and I had not ever been so “at home” and “homesick” at the same time in our entire lives.
Our hearts were overflowing;
We were compelled by joy to sing;
We could not keep silent.
We Will Not Keep Silent
We are people who must sing you,
for the sake of our very lives.
You are a God who must be sung by us,
for the sake of your majesty and honor.
And so we thank you,
for lyrics that push us past our reasons,
for melodies that break open our givens,
for cadences that locate us home,
beyond all our safe places,
for tones and tunes that open our lives beyond control,
and our futures beyond despair.
We thank you for long parade of mothers and fathers
who have sung you deep and true;
We thank you for the good company
of artists, poets, musicians, [and] cantors . . .
that sing for us and with us, toward you.
We are witnesses to your mercy and splendor;
We will not keep silent . . . ever again.
Amen
- Walter Brueggemann
Who are the mothers and fathers, the parade of people who have sung God deep and true? Who are those with whom we sing when we sing God’s praises, when we will not keep silent?
Then Moses and the Israelites sang this song to the Lord:
"I will sing to the Lord, for he has triumphed gloriously;
horse and rider he has thrown into the sea.
The Lord is my strength and my might,
and he has become my salvation;
this is my God, and I will praise him,
my father's God, and I will exalt him.
The Lord is a warrior; the Lord is his name.”
And Miriam sang to them:
"Sing to the Lord, for he has triumphed gloriously;
horse and rider he has thrown into the sea."
- Ex 15
Then Deborah and Barak son of Abinoam sang on that day, saying:
"When locks are long in Israel,
when the people offer themselves willingly — bless the Lord!
Hear, O kings; give ear, O princes; to the Lord I will sing,
I will make melody to the Lord, the God of Israel.
- Jdg 5
David spoke to the Lord the words of this song on the day when the Lord delivered him from the hand of all his enemies, and from the hand of Saul. He said:
For this I will extol you, O Lord, among the nations,
and sing praises to your name.
He is a tower of salvation for his king,
and shows steadfast love to his anointed,
to David and his descendants forever.
- 2 Sa 22
Then on that day David first appointed the singing of praises to the Lord by Asaph and his kindred . . .
Let the heavens be glad, and let the earth rejoice,
and let them say among the nations, "The Lord is king!"
Let the sea roar, and all that fills it;
let the field exult, and everything in it.
Then shall the trees of the forest sing for joy before the Lord,
for he comes to judge the earth.
O give thanks to the Lord, for he is good;
for his steadfast love endures forever.
- 1 Ch 16
May you find the joy,
May you feel the peace,
May you know the love,
That helps you feel at Home.
That makes your heart overflow with song.
All was well until we started to sing. From behind me to my left, I could hear the voice of one with whom I had grown up; the kind of friend who always has been, and always will be, a sister to both of us. From behind me to my right, I could hear the voice of a woman who is like my second mother, and who is like another mother to Ann. The words and the music and the singers marched us in step right back Home. Ann and I had not ever been so “at home” and “homesick” at the same time in our entire lives.
Our hearts were overflowing;
We were compelled by joy to sing;
We could not keep silent.
We Will Not Keep Silent
We are people who must sing you,
for the sake of our very lives.
You are a God who must be sung by us,
for the sake of your majesty and honor.
And so we thank you,
for lyrics that push us past our reasons,
for melodies that break open our givens,
for cadences that locate us home,
beyond all our safe places,
for tones and tunes that open our lives beyond control,
and our futures beyond despair.
We thank you for long parade of mothers and fathers
who have sung you deep and true;
We thank you for the good company
of artists, poets, musicians, [and] cantors . . .
that sing for us and with us, toward you.
We are witnesses to your mercy and splendor;
We will not keep silent . . . ever again.
Amen
- Walter Brueggemann
Who are the mothers and fathers, the parade of people who have sung God deep and true? Who are those with whom we sing when we sing God’s praises, when we will not keep silent?
Then Moses and the Israelites sang this song to the Lord:
"I will sing to the Lord, for he has triumphed gloriously;
horse and rider he has thrown into the sea.
The Lord is my strength and my might,
and he has become my salvation;
this is my God, and I will praise him,
my father's God, and I will exalt him.
The Lord is a warrior; the Lord is his name.”
And Miriam sang to them:
"Sing to the Lord, for he has triumphed gloriously;
horse and rider he has thrown into the sea."
- Ex 15
Then Deborah and Barak son of Abinoam sang on that day, saying:
"When locks are long in Israel,
when the people offer themselves willingly — bless the Lord!
Hear, O kings; give ear, O princes; to the Lord I will sing,
I will make melody to the Lord, the God of Israel.
- Jdg 5
David spoke to the Lord the words of this song on the day when the Lord delivered him from the hand of all his enemies, and from the hand of Saul. He said:
For this I will extol you, O Lord, among the nations,
and sing praises to your name.
He is a tower of salvation for his king,
and shows steadfast love to his anointed,
to David and his descendants forever.
- 2 Sa 22
Then on that day David first appointed the singing of praises to the Lord by Asaph and his kindred . . .
Let the heavens be glad, and let the earth rejoice,
and let them say among the nations, "The Lord is king!"
Let the sea roar, and all that fills it;
let the field exult, and everything in it.
Then shall the trees of the forest sing for joy before the Lord,
for he comes to judge the earth.
O give thanks to the Lord, for he is good;
for his steadfast love endures forever.
- 1 Ch 16
May you find the joy,
May you feel the peace,
May you know the love,
That helps you feel at Home.
That makes your heart overflow with song.
Grace and peace,
Ron
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