Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Like rain that falls ...
If we are to be like our king, what kind of people ought we to be?
Psalm 72:1-7, 10-14
Give the king your justice, O God,
and your righteousness to a king's son.
May he judge your people with righteousness,
and your poor with justice.
May the mountains yield prosperity for the people,
and the hills, in righteousness.
May he defend the cause of the poor of the people,
give deliverance to the needy, and crush the oppressor.
May he live while the sun endures,
and as long as the moon,
throughout all generations.
May he be like rain that falls on the mown grass,
like showers that water the earth.
In his days may righteousness flourish and peace abound,
until the moon is no more.
May the kings of Tarshish and of the isles render him tribute,
may the kings of Sheba and Seba bring gifts.
May all kings fall down before him, all nations give him service.
For he delivers the needy when they call,
the poor and those who have no helper.
He has pity on the weak and the needy,
and saves the lives of the needy.
From oppression and violence he redeems their life;
and precious is their blood in his sight.
Grace and peace,
Ron
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Establish justice ...
Amos 5:6-7, 10-15
Seek the LORD and live,
or he will break out against the house of Joseph like fire,
and it will devour Bethel, with no one to quench it.
Ah, you that turn justice to wormwood,
and bring righteousness to the ground!
They hate the one who reproves in the gate,
and they abhor the one who speaks the truth.
Therefore because you trample on the poor
and take from them levies of grain,
you have built houses of hewn stone,
but you shall not live in them;
you have planted pleasant vineyards,
but you shall not drink their wine.
For I know how many are your transgressions,
and how great are your sins-- you who afflict the righteous,
who take a bribe, and push aside the needy in the gate.
Therefore the prudent will keep silent in such a time;
for it is an evil time.
Seek good and not evil, that you may live;
and so the LORD, the God of hosts,
will be with you, just as you have said.
Hate evil and love good, and establish justice in the gate;
it may be that the LORD, the God of hosts,
will be gracious to the remnant of Joseph.
Monday, August 31, 2009
In your tent ...
O Lord, who may abide in your tent?
Who may dwell on your holy hill?
Those who walk blamelessly, and do what is right,
and speak the truth from their heart;
who do not slander with their tongue,
and do no evil to their friends,
nor take up a reproach against their neighbors;
in whose eyes the wicked are despised,
but who honor those who fear the Lord;
who stand by their oath even to their hurt;
who do not lend money at interest,
and do not take a bribe against the innocent.
Those who do these things shall never be moved.
What image do you see when you read about the tent of the Lord here? Do you think of the tabernacle, its careful construction, its sparse but beautiful furnishings, its unusual size for a tent meant for the desert?
Or perhaps the talk of the “holy hill” makes you picture Jerusalem, the stunning white stone of the temple, the carefully tended lamps within and fires without, the many faithful who gather in its courtyards to worship the one true and living God?
It may be that your picture is very precise, and that you imagine the days of Jerusalem, recently conquered by David, his new palace of cedar on one ridge near the tent that shelters the ark, awaiting the day that God will allow Solomon to build the temple.
Any of these are possible, but I have another image, too. The tent is a caravan tent, perched on the leeward side of a large sand dune. It is large, well-traveled tent, the kind that belongs to a prince. Inside there is this amazing collection of people reclined at the table with that prince, surprisingly diverse. They are not only Arab and Jewish, or even Syrian or Ethiopian, but but also others who appear to come from around the globe. Unlike the tents of so many sultans, both men and women, young and old lean into the low table, abundantly supplied with a simple, yet beautiful, meal. I do not yet know all of their stories, yet I already sense that these are people whose amazing lives are intimately connected with the life of the host.
I know that I have been invited into this tent, but then I remember how those who dwell there are described: “Those who walk blamelessly, and do what is right.” As much as I celebrate the invitation, I cannot say that my walk is blameless, nor that what I do is always right. The first words out of my mouth are a prayer, instinctively a plea to the host: “Lord Jesus Christ, son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner.”
I want to be at this table.
I want to walk blamelessly, and do what is right,
I want to be known as one who speaks the truth from my heart;
And who will not slander with my tongue,
I want it to be unbelievable that I would do any evil to my friends,
or take up a reproach against my neighbors;
I want it to be known that in my eyes wickedness is despised,
but that I honor those who fear the Lord;
that I respect those who stand by their oath even to their hurt;
that my friends do not lend money at interest,
or take bribes against the innocent.
Perhaps some of these things are true because of my virtue; perhaps others are true because I have not perceived the opportunity to violate them. Yet can I say that all of them are true?
In all of these things, it is the power of my host, my elder brother, Jesus Christ, that makes it possible for me to be in this tent, to recline at this table as if I belong here. The God who makes that which is not as if it were makes the righteousness that I have not as if it were real. So I do the best I can. I say my twelve-worded prayer more times a day that you might imagine. I depend upon my host to make my place at the table, because I understand, after so many decades, that it is his declaration, and not my deserving, that brings me to share dessert with the amazing people circled in this desert tent.
Come, abide in his tent.
Ron
Psalm 15 – NRSV
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Pictures of God
Then what becomes of boasting? It is excluded. By what law? By that of works? No, but by the law of faith. For we hold that a person is justified by faith apart from works prescribed by the law. Or is God the God of Jews only? Is he not the God of Gentiles also? Yes, of Gentiles also, since God is one; and he will justify the circumcised on the ground of faith and the uncircumcised through that same faith. Do we then overthrow the law by this faith? By no means! On the contrary, we uphold the law.
Romans 3:21-31 NRSV
How can we know God? How can we know what God looks like? How he would behave? Paul tells that God and his righteousness have been revealed in Jesus Christ. So if we want to construct a mental image of God, we could use the Bible, or theology, or the various materials of worship. Yet, more simply, if we look at Jesus we see God. God in the flesh. When Paul writes Colossians, he tells us that “He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation ... For in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell” (Col 1:15,20 NRSV).
We know this; some of us will think that this is even intuitively obvious. But is this how we actually think? When we imagine God the Father, don’t we all too frequently tend to act as if the parental side of the Trinity has a totally different personality? A different demeanor? The Judge. The Traffic Cop. The Wrathful Warrior. The Landowner uprooting dead trees. How do we justify this? How do we maintain this in opposition to Scripture?
I think it is because all too frequently we tend to project our earthly fathers onto the face of God, however good or however bad this father image is. Obviously if our father is godly this is somewhat helpful if occasionally confusing. If our father is not godly, then we are going to have to be particularly careful about how we image God. Otherwise, this tendency causes us to engage in a serious if unintentional piece of idolatry – substituting the image of something or someone else for God. Truth stands in opposition to this idea. Jesus is the only, the true “image of the invisible God.”
If “Jesus loves me, this I know,” why don’t we believe this about the Father, even when the Bible tells us so? “For God [the Father] so loved the world ….” If Jesus wants to redeem us, can we not see that God wants to do the same? If Jesus is merciful, is this not a perfect picture of the Father’s mercy? Since Jesus is faithful, will not God be? Ultimately since Jesus is righteous as God is righteous, he makes it possible for us to have a relationship with God the Father and a healthy image of that Father who made himself visible in the form of Jesus. When you’ve seen Jesus, you’ve seen the Father.
So is it our job to go around showing people pictures of Jesus so that they can know what God looks like? Yes, exactly so. We don’t have a photo of him in our wallet, or our computer, or even on our Facebook pages. His image is to be revealed in our demeanor, our lips, our hands, and our feet. So perhaps the reason that many people struggle to believe in God is not that we have yet to construct some “superproof,” some apologetic that can convince any and everyone. Perhaps the problem is that we, his imagers, need to present a clearer picture of Jesus. In focus. Consistent even in the little details. Not smudged. Surely this is something that can only be done by the power and grace of God.
Being conformed to the image of Christ, the mind of Jesus, is the calling of a lifetime. It is our calling today.
Grace and peace,
Ron
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
Spiritual food
Toward the end of one of the most intriguing narratives in the gospel of John, Jesus speaks some curious words. Although exhausted, he has been talking with the Samaritan woman at Jacob’s well at Sychar while his disciples go into town to buy some food. This shopping trip takes a while, so the disciples expect Jesus to be as famished as they are when they return to the well:
. . . . . . the disciples were urging him, "Rabbi, eat something."
So the disciples said to one another, "Surely no one has brought him something to eat?"
Jesus said to them, “My food is to do the will of him who sent me and to complete his work.”
Jn 4:31-34
Now, even though Jesus confuses the disciples, John makes it obvious to us that the Father must have filled Jesus with some sort of spiritual food. This idea of “spiritual filling” makes us think about the words from Jesus’ sermon:
“Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.” - Mt 5:6
Consider the wisdom of Gregory of Nyssa as he explains these words of Jesus. Hear how the virtue that makes up righteousness can satisfy us:
To me, this saying seems to mean that none of the things pursued for the sake of pleasure in this life satisfies those who pursue them . . . Are not all pleasures that are accomplished through the body fleeting, since they do not remain for long with those who have attained them? . . . Only the pursuit of virtue that is planted with us is firm and lasting. For a person who aims his life straight at the higher things—such as prudence, temperance, [or] piety toward the divine—does not in those virtuous actions obtain transitory and unstable enjoyment but enjoyment that is firm, enduring, and extends to all of one’s life.
Why is this so? Because one can always do these things and there is no time throughout our lives that produces a satiety of doing good. For prudence, purity, unchangeableness in every good, and avoidance of the bad can be done at all times. As long as one longs for virtue, one’s enjoyment grow through its practice. For those who give themselves over to improper desires, even if their soul is always attentive to licentiousness, the pleasure does not last indefinitely. Satiety puts a stop to the gluttonous enjoyment of food and when thirst is quenched, so is the pleasure of drink. It is the same with other things; once the desire for please has been quenched by its satisfaction, a certain interval of time must pass before the desire for pleasure is again called forth.
On the other hand, when the possession of virtue is firmly established within someone, it is not limited by time or satiety. It always provides those who live by it a pure, ever-new, and flourishing experience of its own good things. . . . The possession of virtue follows the desire for virtue, and this ingrained goodness brings unceasing enjoyment to the soul. . . . Virtue is both the work of those who live uprightly and the reward for virtuous deeds.
On the Beatitudes, 4
To hunger or thirst after righteousness is to desire virtue. To desire a particular virtue is to value it, which is the first step toward possessing it. The practice of a specific connected discipline begins to develop the virtue in us. Such practice requires us to displace the opposing vice, as well as the connected fears. After we practice the virtue long enough for it to become a habit, we acquire a taste for it, a taste that can be satisfied by more of the same. Gregory explains this to us, and Jesus demonstrates.
If, for example, we desire the virtue of peacemaking (Mt 6:10), then not only must we give up anger (or sarcasm, impatience, or incaution), we must also put aside our fear and avoidance of conflict in order to come close enough to bring reconciliation. When God uses us to make peace enough times, he fills us with the joy of knowing that we are truly behaving like children of God. That joy will overflow into the lives of other people. Remember the woman at the well? Jesus told her, "Everyone who drinks of this water will be thirsty again, but those who drink of the water that I will give them will never be thirsty. The water that I will give will become in them a spring of water gushing up to eternal life." Jn 4:13-15
Ron