Manna and Quail and Loaves and Fishes and Rice and Beans and...

Let’s take a slow walk through an incredibly important event as the people of Israel were making their way from Egypt toward their homeland (Exodus 16:1-34 – NLT).

Then the whole community of Israel set out from Elim and journeyed into the wilderness of Sin, between Elim and Mount Sinai. They arrived there on the fifteenth day of the second month, one month after leaving the land of Egypt. 2 There, too, the whole community of Israel complained about Moses and Aaron.

3 “If only the Lord had killed us back in Egypt,” they moaned. “There we sat around pots filled with meat and ate all the bread we wanted. But now you have brought us into this wilderness to starve us all to death.”

Note: Anxiousness messes with us.

Question: How does it mess with hungry travelers?

Pete’s thoughts…  When we are anxious, we’re not our healthy selves.  We act out in a number of ways.  We get angry quicker, or we withdraw, or we get hyper and restless.  Sometimes we unintentionally get ourselves into messes because we do not recognize that we are in an anxious space.  We behave in ways we otherwise would not, and things go south.  Perhaps if we remind ourselves that when we are under excessive stress we are not at our best, we will be more mindful of our behavior.

4 Then the Lord said to Moses, “Look, I’m going to rain down food from heaven for you. Each day the people can go out and pick up as much food as they need for that day. I will test them in this to see whether or not they will follow my instructions. 5 On the sixth day they will gather food, and when they prepare it, there will be twice as much as usual.”

Note: God didn’t scold people for their anxiety-induced behavior.

Question: How should we treat people who are living with anxiety?

Pete’s thoughts…  Related to the previous thoughts on anxiousness, I wonder what might happen if, when seeing a person acting out in ways not typical for them, we would choose to wonder if they may be under undue stress.  How would things be different if we open up an umbrella of grace with people instead of reacting back with equal and opposite force?  It says so much about the character and nature of God – so surprising for many, I bet – that God acts with grace after taking context into consideration.  Let’s follow suit.

6 So Moses and Aaron said to all the people of Israel, “By evening you will realize it was the Lord who brought you out of the land of Egypt.7 In the morning you will see the glory of the Lord, because he has heard your complaints, which are against him, not against us. What have we done that you should complain about us?” 8 Then Moses added, “The Lord will give you meat to eat in the evening and bread to satisfy you in the morning, for he has heard all your complaints against him. What have we done? Yes, your complaints are against the Lord, not against us.”

9 Then Moses said to Aaron, “Announce this to the entire community of Israel: ‘Present yourselves before the Lord, for he has heard your complaining.’” 10 And as Aaron spoke to the whole community of Israel, they looked out toward the wilderness. There they could see the awesome glory of the Lord in the cloud.

11 Then the Lord said to Moses, 12 “I have heard the Israelites’ complaints. Now tell them, ‘In the evening you will have meat to eat, and in the morning you will have all the bread you want. Then you will know that I am the Lord your God.’”

Note: Being heard matters.  Being heard matters.  Being heard matters.  Being heard matters.

Question: When we deal with stressed people, how well do we communicate that we hear them?

Pete’s thoughts…  Recently a friend was sharing an insight he had learned after being married many years and also being a father to daughters.  “Women don’t want the men in their life to fix their problems – they really want us to listen.  My wife tells me that from time to time.”  Which means on occasion my friend shifted from listening mode to fixing mode.  God is quoted as saying “I heard you” four times within a brief amount of time.  How hard do we try to listen for understanding – to the point where those we talk with would say they felt heard?

13 That evening vast numbers of quail flew in and covered the camp. And the next morning the area around the camp was wet with dew. 14 When the dew evaporated, a flaky substance as fine as frost blanketed the ground. 15 The Israelites were puzzled when they saw it. “What is it?” they asked each other. They had no idea what it was.

And Moses told them, “It is the food the Lord has given you to eat.16 These are the Lord’s instructions: Each household should gather as much as it needs. Pick up two quarts for each person in your tent.”

17 So the people of Israel did as they were told. Some gathered a lot, some only a little. 18 But when they measured it out, everyone had just enough. Those who gathered a lot had nothing left over, and those who gathered only a little had enough. Each family had just what it needed.

19 Then Moses told them, “Do not keep any of it until morning.” 20 But some of them didn’t listen and kept some of it until morning. But by then it was full of maggots and had a terrible smell. Moses was very angry with them.

Note: The bread of God cannot be hoarded.

Question: Which faith system orders your steps, Egypt’s or Israel’s?

Pete’s thoughts…  Bible scholar Leander Keck offered a keen observation worth sharing on this: “They want to establish a surplus, to develop a zone of self-sufficiency. The people in the wilderness immediately try to replicate the ways of Egypt by storing up and hoarding out of anxiety and greed. However, this bread (bread of another kind given by God) cannot be stored up. The narrator takes pains to underscore that stored-up, surplus bread is useless. Bread that reflects self-sufficient anxiety and greed will have no food value for Israel, so that the bread of disobedience breeds worms, turns sour, and melts.”  Of course, it’s not just literal bread to which this applies.  When we hoard love and grace, a similar results occurs.  I once told a highly knowledgeable Christian that he was spiritually constipated.  He knew all about love and grace, but hadn’t shared it with anybody.  Instead of being marked by beauty, he was bitter.  Even with love and grace, it rots if we don’t share it.

21 After this the people gathered the food morning by morning, each family according to its need. And as the sun became hot, the flakes they had not picked up melted and disappeared. 22 On the sixth day, they gathered twice as much as usual—four quarts for each person instead of two. Then all the leaders of the community came and asked Moses for an explanation. 23 He told them, “This is what the Lord commanded: Tomorrow will be a day of complete rest, a holy Sabbath day set apart for the Lord. So bake or boil as much as you want today, and set aside what is left for tomorrow.”

24 So they put some aside until morning, just as Moses had commanded. And in the morning the leftover food was wholesome and good, without maggots or odor. 25 Moses said, “Eat this food today, for today is a Sabbath day dedicated to the Lord. There will be no food on the ground today. 26 You may gather the food for six days, but the seventh day is the Sabbath. There will be no food on the ground that day.”

27 Some of the people went out anyway on the seventh day, but they found no food. 28 The Lord asked Moses, “How long will these people refuse to obey my commands and instructions? 29 They must realize that the Sabbath is the Lord’s gift to you. That is why he gives you a two-day supply on the sixth day, so there will be enough for two days. On the Sabbath day you must each stay in your place. Do not go out to pick up food on the seventh day.” 30 So the people did not gather any food on the seventh day.

Note: Sabbath is a gift to protect, not a law that enslaves.

Question: How are you protecting Sabbath in your life?

Pete’s thoughts…  We need space and time to just rest with people who matter to us.  To build relationship.  To reconnect.  To be loved and to love.  But we live as if that was a lie.  We over extend ourselves, using up every second with whatever urgent issue arises.  We are left with fragmented lives filled with not-quite-whole relationships with the people we love the most.  To enjoy the gift of Sabbath requires time and intent to make it happen.  It is a gift – let’s unwrap it.

31 The Israelites called the food manna. It was white like coriander seed, and it tasted like honey wafers.

32 Then Moses said, “This is what the Lord has commanded: Fill a two-quart container with manna to preserve it for your descendants. Then later generations will be able to see the food I gave you in the wilderness when I set you free from Egypt.”

33 Moses said to Aaron, “Get a jar and fill it with two quarts of manna. Then put it in a sacred place before the Lord to preserve it for all future generations.” 34 Aaron did just as the Lord had commanded Moses. He eventually placed it in the Ark of the Covenant—in front of the stone tablets inscribed with the terms of the covenant. 35 So the people of Israel ate manna for forty years until they arrived at the land where they would settle. They ate manna until they came to the border of the land of Canaan.

Note: Passing on the story matters.

Question: How are you sharing the story with those in your sphere?

Pete’s thoughts… This chapter of the Exodus came with and object lesson, a physical reminder of all that the manna represented.  What reminders to you have before you to keep things fresh, and to point to so that others might learn of your hope as well?

 

Bonus themes:

Note: God transformed the wilderness… and still does.

Question: Are we stuck in our certainty that or wilderness is devoid of life?

Pete’s thoughts… It is very easy to be so consumed by our difficult seasons that all we can see is darkness.  If we will be mindful, however, our wilderness times can become the richest times of our lives.  If you are in a wilderness period right now, mine it for all it’s worth, because there are gemstones under your feet.  I will help you if you need help to see them.  (Mining is work – but it’s worth it).

Note: Jesus fed 5,000+ from next to nothing.

Question: What dots would people connect between these two feeding stories?

Pete’s thoughts… When Jesus fed the 5,000+ from next to nothing, people would have immediately associated it with this manna story.  The biggest take-home was that what Jesus was bringing was from God, given to the listeners in a literal wilderness of space and time.  God showed up, and there was enough for everyone.

Note: The Apostle Paul referenced this manna passage in 2 Corinthians 8:8-15.

Question: How does Paul’s charge to the first century faithful speak to us today?

Pete’sthoughts… It is alittle embarrassing that we’re 20 centuries removed from Paul’s instruction, yet we still struggle with it as if we were the first audience.  We live in a wealthy part of the world.  We need to share as we are able.  The culture will call us to spend our money on tomorrow’s garage sale items or to hoard our money “just in case”, but we can all be better stewards.  There is enough in the world for everyone’s need; there is never enough for everyone’s greed.

And a final thought from Leander Keck:

It is not accidental that at the end of the miracle of the bread, Mark reports that they “did not understand about the loaves” (6:52 NRSV). They did not understand because “their hearts were hardened.” It is a high irony that in an allusion to the manna story, it is now the disciples, not the people of Pharaoh, who have “hard hearts.” Hard hearts make us rely on our own capacity and our own bread. In the end, they render all of these stories of alternative bread too dangerous and too outrageous for consideration. As a result, the bread practices of Pharaoh continue to prevail among us. In the presence of those practices, this community continues to watch the jar, tell the story, and imagine another bread that is taken and given, blessed and broken.

There is a lot in this passage to chew on.  What will you incorporate from it going forward?

The Oldest Song We Can Sing

The first line I read in my research on this particular passage went something like this: this is one of the most profound poems from the Jewish faith in the entire Bible.  That got my attention.

The reason it is so significant is because it restates the Jewish understanding of God so clearly, harkening back to the creation poem in Genesis chapter one, where out of the waters of chaos God brought forth life.  Now, in this poem (Exodus 15:1-21), God used the water of chaos to defeat Pharaoh’s army in order to save the people of Israel.  In the poem, Moses makes one thing abundantly clear: this was all God’s doing, born out of God’s love for the oppressed Israelites.  Pharaoh, the self-identified demigod who ruled the world’s super power of that time was no match for God.  Ant, meet shoe.

There are times in life when it seems the presence and power of God are undeniable, when we stand in awe of God.  Sometimes being immersed in creation draws our attention to the Creator.  Or when a baby is born.  Or when deep love is abundantly displayed in some profound way.  Or when it feels like God has intervened in some special way.  There are many stories from WWII where it seems like God’s hand showed up and caused a gun to jamb, or a leader to not advance troops, which allowed for life to go on.

I’ve experienced physical healing, what I claim was divine intervention.  I prayed, and the pain left and soon after my ailment healed after years of failed treatment.  I experienced divine intervention after a car wreck.  After such experiences, I sang pretty loud songs of praise to God.

Sometimes we experience God intervening in other ways, seemingly aligning stars for a particular reason.  My family experienced this in July at a camping trip which brought us into deeper relationship with a couple we’d met weeks before.  All of us were wondering if God somehow orchestrated this coincidence, and wondered why God might bother.  Note: I don’t generally play this card, and wouldn’t except that the likelihood of all of this happening was so small we simply couldn’t shake the thought that somehow God was in it.  When these types of things happen, it feels natural to be grateful to God.

At other times it is not so easy to sing, because we sense God’s lack of intervention.  Our prayers don’t get answered the way we hoped.  The gun didn’t jamb when it was pointed at a loved one.  The wreck took life.  Sometimes “it” hits the fan and spreads it everywhere.  We look for someone to blame.  Sometimes it’s us. Sometimes it’s someone else.  Sometimes it’s a destructive system.  Sometimes it’s Mother Nature.  Sometimes it sure feels like God could have intervened.  I bet there were some Jews on the victory side of the sea who, while they were delighted at God’s defeat of Pharaoh’s army, wept, wishing God had acted sooner, before their sons were thrown into the Nile, or their loved one died from beatings because they didn’t meet their quota of bricks.

I bet everyone has been impacted by the pain cancer has caused.  I know I have grieved the loss of many lives taken by this indiscriminate foe.  And how many millions of Jews died because the war ended too late?  How many tens of thousands of Japanese were immediately incinerated or slowly, excruciatingly painfully killed from radiation because the threat of a nuclear bomb wasn’t taken seriously, and because we dropped it.  How many people today are stuck in human trafficking, being exploited for their work or their sexuality?  Love to stream porn?  Do you really think all those different women are hoping to be porn stars?  Wake up!  The greatest likelihood is that they are on camera under threat. 

In these times, it’s hard to sing a song about God’s immense power to deliver us from evil.  So we turn to other songs in the Bible.  Like Psalm 42 and Psalm 44.  These are good songs for excrement-filled days.  If my coarse language here offends you, perhaps you haven’t actually had one yet.  Sometimes vulgarity allows for appropriate expression.  Isn’t it good to know the Bible itself gives us permission to vent?

So, where are we then?  Seems a little wanting to sing praise to God for being omnipotent, omniscient and omnipresent when it feels like God didn’t quite have enough in the tank, or made a poor choice, or just plain didn’t show up where needed.

The Jewish people were no strangers to oppression.  Most of their existence as a people has been on the receiving end of someone’s hatred.  In all of history, they haven’t truly ruled their own land for much longer than the United States has hers.  Think about that.  In 4,000 years of history, they’ve had their hands on their own steering wheel (speaking in geopolitical terms) for a few hundred years.  Their glory days were during the reign of David and Solomon.  That was around 1,000 BCE.  Not long after Solomon reigned, everything fell apart.  They have faced one challenge after another forever.  Why do they still sing praise to God?

The Jewish faith (which is the foundation for Christian faith) believedGod to be constantly good, constantly active, and constantly loving.  God cannot be otherwise.  God’s choice to redeem Israel in the exodus from Egypt had nothing to do with Israel’s holiness or DNA.  The move had everything to do with God’s unchangeable character of love.  For ancient Jews, reading the story of Adam and Eve reminded them that life is sometimes “excrementy”.  Sometimes it feels like a snake in the grass is the source.  Sometimes it’s people we love and are supposed to love us back -  they defecate on it.  And sometimes we’re the ones who do the defecating.  That’s a whole lot of excrement!  Maybe that’s why the Garden grew so much fruit!  The Garden story reminds us that life is sometimes awful for a wide range of reasons, not the least of which is our own individual arrogance and quest for greater power, even equality with God.  We’re told from the get-go to expect life to be like that.  But this Jewish story also tells of their generation-after-generation experience of God as One who is loving despite our shortcomings and outright defiant rejection; One who comes to heal, restore, instruct, and help move forward.  This is the nature of God, our Ground of Being, Ultimate Reality: Love.

This great, eternal truth is very good news – the same Good News Jesus proclaimed as a corrective to a too-narrowly defined legalistic interpretation of the Jewish faith at that time by the Sadducees who were in charge.  The Good News is this: no matter how excrementy things get, the end of the story is the goodness of God.   I’m not talking about some wimpy, cop-out, denial of and checking out of reality while we wait for heaven.  I’m talking about living through the grit and shit knowing that it does not mean the absence of God, but in fact simply is an expression of the reality of life.  But a reality that need not and should not define us.  Our ultimateidentity is in the person of God, who is with us through and through, supporting and sustaining us even as we wade through the cesspools of life.  When we choose to praise God for this hope which rings eternal, it is an act of honest, strong defiance against that which would have us think less of ourselves, the cosmos, and God.  Praising God even in the midst of the shitstorm is an act of giving the finger to cancer, to evil, to tyranny, to all that tries to go against what is eternally good.  It is a statement declaring that we choose to be defined by our identity in God and nothing less.  This allows us to move forward not with strength instead of fear, joy instead of mourning, because that which gives us life is eternal and cannot be compromised by the light and momentary troubles we may experience here and now.

While such a metaphor may offend our modern sensibilities, the whole claim of rescue, deliverance, and salvation depends on the reality that God can do for us what we cannot do for ourselves. It is as though the utterance of Yahweh’s name is a defiant challenge to any power that might try to undo the liberation and force the singer back into bondage. The singer anticipates the Pauline assertion: “I am not ashamed of the gospel” (Rom 1:16 NRSV). This singer is not embarrassed to take a strong stand for the future in this affirmation. The singer is buoyant and delighted at the new possibilities the reality of this God makes possible. The remainder of the poem explicates this passionate faith and sure confidence… It is the liturgic remembering and hoping of every community of the oppressed that catches a glimpse of freedom and authorizes liturgical (and eschatological) exaggeration to say, “Free at last!” When the song is sung, clearly this is not yet “at last.” The community at worship, however, can dare such exaggeration, because its hope is more powerful and more compelling than any present circumstance. – New Interpreter’s Bible

May we choose to recognize the majesty of God not only when it is so obvious, but especially when it is not, that we may be beacons of hope as we sing the song that cannot be silenced and must be sung: Where, o death, is your victory?  Where, o death, is your sting?

Why are we doing this faith stuff, again?

Joseph was long gone.  So was the Pharaoh who made him second in command over Egypt.  Time changes everything.  At the end of Joseph’s days, the people of Israel (his dad’s extended family) were welcomed into the foreign country with open arms.  A few generations later, the Israelites (who worked hard and no doubt contributed to the country’s bottom line) were viewed as a threat to Egypt’s national stability.  The king treated them harshly with slave labor, but they kept on reproducing.  Giving in to the fear, Pharaoh gave an unthinkable order.

The king of Egypt had a talk with the two Hebrew midwives; one was named Shiphrah and the other Puah. He said, "When you deliver the Hebrew women, look at the sex of the baby. If it's a boy, kill him; if it's a girl, let her live."
     But the midwives had far too much respect for God and didn't do what the king of Egypt ordered; they let the boy babies live. The king of Egypt called in the midwives. "Why didn't you obey my orders? You've let those babies live!"
     The midwives answered Pharaoh, "The Hebrew women aren't like the Egyptian women; they're vigorous. Before the midwife can get there, they've already had the baby."
     God was pleased with the midwives. The people continued to increase in number—a very strong people. And because the midwives honored God, God gave them families of their own.
     So Pharaoh issued a general order to all his people: "Every boy that is born, drown him in the Nile. But let the girls live." – Exodus 1:15-22 (The Message)

A couple of questions come to mind for me at this point.  The Pharaoh did not remember, did not know, or did not care about the history of the Jewish people.  I wonder if anyone told him about Joseph’s influence, or if the Pharaoh Joseph worked for simply got the credit for saving Egypt from famine?  So, one question that comes to mind is this: what are some historical moments we do not want our children and grandchildren to forget, lest they forget history and therefore become more inclined to repeat it?

On another note, we are introduced to Shiphrah and Puah, two Hebrew women who were as courageous as Pharaoh was horrific.  They put their lives at risk to ensure that Jewish boys lived.  When held accountable, they played into Pharaoh’s ignorance that fueled his fear.  “Hebrew women are champions when it comes to pushing out babies…”  Reminds me of tales of Brer Rabbit from American slavery days.  Brer Rabbit was a fictitious folklore hero who outwitted those who tried to trap and kill him.  African slaves, knowing that their masters thought them to be lazy and dimwitted, used the prejudice to their advantage at times.  Ingenious creativity in the face of terror that protected life as best as possible.  A question that comes to mind for me at a time in our country that is so divided is this: how are we creatively doing our part to insure that endangered people are allowed to truly live?

The story builds…

A man from the family of Levi married a Levite woman. The woman became pregnant and had a son. She saw there was something special about him and hid him. She hid him for three months. When she couldn't hide him any longer she got a little basket-boat made of papyrus, waterproofed it with tar and pitch, and placed the child in it. Then she set it afloat in the reeds at the edge of the Nile.
     The baby's older sister found herself a vantage point a little way off and watched to see what would happen to him. Pharaoh's daughter came down to the Nile to bathe; her maidens strolled on the bank. She saw the basket-boat floating in the reeds and sent her maid to get it. She opened it and saw the child—a baby crying! Her heart went out to him. She said, "This must be one of the Hebrew babies."
     Then his sister was before her: "Do you want me to go and get a nursing mother from the Hebrews so she can nurse the baby for you?"
     Pharaoh's daughter said, "Yes. Go." The girl went and called the child's mother.
     Pharaoh's daughter told her, "Take this baby and nurse him for me. I'll pay you." The woman took the child and nursed him.
     After the child was weaned, she presented him to Pharaoh's daughter who adopted him as her son. She named him Moses (Pulled-Out), saying, "I pulled him out of the water." – Exodus 2:1-10 (The Message)

A story that was generally awful just got very personal for a particular Jewish woman.  This wasn’t just some child, this was her child, and she was not about to let her baby drown.  So, she did what people do when they realize they are up against the wall – she did whatever it took to save her son.  A calculated risk all the way around.  If she got caught, she could be killed.  If the baby got discovered by the wrong person, he could be drowned.  If the baby was found by a crocodile, well…  Serious risk. 

Of course, the story went well.  The baby was discovered by a sympathetic princess who wanted a pet, I guess?  Or was this willful disobedience against her Pharaoh-brother born out of compassion?  Very curious.  All of this was witnessed by the boy’s sister, who arranged for her own mother to be the nurse maid.  Clever.  But risky.

I wonder if we would be so creative and courageous if we knew the stakes were so high.  Of course, for most of us in these parts of the world, such a threat seems incomprehensible and extremely unlikely.  But if we were faced with such a foe, if our own flesh and blood were on the line or our kin or our country, I think most of us would act with great bravery and sacrifice willingly.  What would you be willing to do if you knew there existed a real threat that endangered your life and the life of those most important to you?

There is a Pharaoh that threatens.  I don’t think it’s Kim Jong-un, although I think he’s nuts and might just do something incredibly stupid that will hurt many people (he has already ruled in ways that hurt North Koreans – why stop there?).  I don’t think it’s ISIS, either.  They are nuts for sure, so deeply committed to their version of radical, fundamentalist Islam.  I don’t think it’s Trump, or our Congress, even though I think they are each pathetic in their own way and continue to underwhelm us all.

There is a threat that I think seeks to undermine our lifeline, our capacity to really live life as it was meant to be lived.  The Bible actually speaks into it from cover to cover.  The name of our foe may change over time – Pharaoh one day, Nebuchadnezzar the next – but their game plan is essentially unchanged.  Our Jewish ancestors knew that their way of engaging life as people of God was being threatened.  Their culture was built around the belief that God was with them wherever they went, and that basing life on the faithfulness and goodness of God was what would lead toward a truly blessed life corporately and individually.  That is the message of Jesus, too.  He spoke of competing kingdoms – the Kingdom of God and the kingdoms of this world – as being in sharp contrast to one another.  He said bold things about the need to decide which one we would follow, and that only one would lead to life.  Not many find it.  When we try to grasp our individual lives with clenched, white-knuckled fists, Jesus says we will lose it.  Yet when we release our lives, entrusting our ethos to the way of Jesus (the Kingdom of God), we find the life we are looking for.

The Church in the United States is in decline.  An increasing number of people don’t care, and may in fact want to see the Church’s demise accelerate.  I think for many, however, the Church as a whole seems unnecessary for people who are spiritual but not religious.  Why do we even need the Church, anyway?  We can get whatever spiritual input we want from a wide range of websites, podcasts, books, etc., many of which offer excellent content?

Believe me, I think a significant reason the Church has lost so much favor over the years is the Church’s fault.  The Church has been arrogant, unbending on the wrong things, failures at standing for the best things, and has become a political pawn on both the left and right side of the aisle.  This is a terrible tragedy, because the purpose of the Church is to proclaim the teachings of Jesus which called us to see the difference between the Kingdom of God and the kingdoms of this world and decide which one would receive our pledge of allegiance.

The kingdom of this world we are intimately familiar with today proclaims from all sectors that the pursuit of personal happiness and success is ours to pursue.  It’s even written into our country’s founding documents.  Go after the life you want, on your terms, defined by you – the American dream.  Our entertainment celebrates it, our capitalistic economy counts on it, our politicians craft speeches that tap into it, our military protects it on a global level.  God is an accessory in our plot to enjoy life.  So long as we feel inner peace when we need it, we’re good.  But this is not the Way Jesus lived or taught.  And while it may give us moments of serenity, it is not the real deal.  It is a false way, and given the multitude who are on it, a highway.  Jesus said that the way is wide and many are on it – that way that leads to destruction.  Not life.

The Way of Jesus, however, is narrow, and few find it.  Why? Because it’s not the norm.  It walks to the beat of a different drummer who doesn’t play familiar rhythms.  The Way of Jesus is foreign and uncomfortable and even unwelcome because it challenges us to think beyond ourselves, to rely on and center ourselves on our identity as entwined and animated by God, which leads us to see others as equally valued and therefore worthy of our respect and inclusion.  This way is radically different than one focused almost solely on our personal, private pursuits to satisfy and build our own puny kingdoms.  It feels like death.  Yet Jesus says it is the way to life.

Influenced by the false kingdom, we think of church as an accessory item that we may or may not adorn, depending on any number of factors.  Instead of being a place where we are reminded of the Kingdom of God and what it means to live under it’s influence, it’s value is measured with the criteria of the culture – if it’s not doing anything for me, I have no patience for it.

If we really believe that this faith thing is legitimate, then we must behave as if were so.  We must muster the courage that the four women in the first chapter and a half of Exodus displayed.  It will need to be creative, it will be different, it will feel risky because it isn’t mainstream, and it just might save a lot of people from literal and figurative death.

What kinds of behaviors need to change?  We live in a spiritually attuned culture that treats God as an on-call therapist – that’s the kingdom of our world.  This Kingdom of God, however, demands that our connection to the Divine be the central, driving, animating force in our lives. We live in a radically individualized culture – that’s the way of this kingdom of our world.  The Kingdom of God calls for community.  The kingdom of our world seeks self-preservation at all costs.  The Kingdom of God, however, is service-of-others oriented, proclaiming that true greatness comes from being a servant, even a slave to the needs of others. Somehow we find our deepest needs met as we base our lives on God’s love and learn to love others well.

How are you creatively countering the culture of this world with the culture of the Kingdom of God? 

How are you fostering a life that is truly centered on a vibrant relationship with God?

How are you engaging others on the Way in genuine community?

How are you serving others in your midst because they are inherently valuable as brothers and sisters created by the same God?

Your Family: Define or Inform You?

In this teaching offered by Sam Altis, we engage the story of Joseph at the end of the Bible's book of Genesis.  Joseph had lots of reasons to perpetuate a nasty family system.  Instead, he chose to break the cycle.  Instead of being defined by the family that deeply influenced him, he chose how his future decisions would be informed.  Are you defined or simply informed by the family system that formed  you?

Striving Toward Heneni

Please enjoy the following weird story from our Bible...

The same night he got up and took his two wives, his two maids, and his eleven children, and crossed the ford of the Jabbok. He took them and sent them across the stream, and likewise everything that he had. Jacob was left alone; and a man wrestled with him until daybreak. When the man saw that he did not prevail against Jacob, he struck him on the hip socket; and Jacob’s hip was put out of joint as he wrestled with him. Then he said, “Let me go, for the day is breaking.” But Jacob said, “I will not let you go, unless you bless me.” So he said to him, “What is your name?” And he said, “Jacob.” Then the man said, “You shall no longer be called Jacob, but Israel, for you have striven with God and with humans, and have prevailed.” Then Jacob asked him, “Please tell me your name.” But he said, “Why is it that you ask my name?” And there he blessed him. So Jacob called the place Peniel, saying, “For I have seen God face to face, and yet my life is preserved.” The sun rose upon him as he passed Penuel, limping because of his hip. – Genesis 32:22-32 (NRSV)

After many years of keeping his distance, Jacob was about to meet his brother Esau again.  As you may recall, Jacob swindled Esau out of his birthright by preying on his vulnerability as well as their father’s blindness in order to get that more-than-twice-as-powerful position as the blessed first born.  Jacob was used to running.  He ran away from his equally slick father.  Now Jacob was all alone.  Everything that mattered to him was on the other side of the river.  The next morning would be a new day (which could have very well been his last).  It was a terrible night.  Jacob experienced a wrestling match that took him from dusk until dawn.  It was the most pivotal night in his life to that point.  Who would Jacob choose to be in the morning?  Would he cross the river, or take his exit as he had so often in his past?

This is a story about striving.

The Hebrew word in question here can sometimes be translated as struggle, or even wrestle, but the most accurate seems to be “striving”, which is defined as: “make great efforts to achieve or obtain something” (Oxford English Dictionary).  This is not a casual exercise.  This is where you leave everything on the mat, as if your life depended on it.

In the story, this isn’t a dream.  The story is passed down that an actual incarnation of God in human form showed up, unannounced.  Furthermore, this person took the initiative – Jacob did not invite him to his campsite.  This seems to be a recurring theme about this God the Jewish people are talking about – this God doesn’t stay in the heavens, but comes down among us.  And this God doesn’t come down to ruin our lives or sleep with our brothers and sisters – this God comes to bring something good to us.

There were likely a range of reasons Jacob chose to sleep alone on the other side of the river that night.  One handy reality was that if he chose to slip away into the night, never to be seen again, he could.  I think a big part of this strife in darkness was that this was to become one of his defining moments.  He did not know what the next day would bring.  Death, perhaps.  Surely a part of him had to consider giving up on the dream, of God’s dream, for his life.  I think that, more than anything else, is what the striving was about.  Would he become the man he was meant to become, or cower once more, tricking his way out this mess and begin yet again as the trickster who knew how to make a deal and work the system.

If you cannot relate to this, I wonder if you’ve ever had a deep, reflective thought in your life.  Perhaps you’ve skated throughout life never wondering about who you are or who you are becoming.  Sometimes we don’t want to wonder because it can be a painful experience.  Denial feels easier, and is easier, for a time.  We can binge on Netflix and avoid personal reflection for a long time.

But shallow living catches up to us eventually.  We were made for love and depth.  When we avoid those things, we will struggle – strive – with despair.  We will face the mirror at some point (even if for a brief moment) and realize that we may have missed Life.  In those moments, I believe the presence of God enters the room to strive with us.  Not to beat us down for being idiots, but to strive with us in the sense of helping us overcome that which keeps us from Life itself.

Sometimes what keeps us from life itself is shame. 

ü  Or guilt. 

ü  Or fear. 

ü  Or anger.

ü  Or sorrow.

ü  Or the company we keep.

ü  Or our depression.

ü  Or… 

Lots of things can keep us from life.  Lots of things distract us from seeing and seeking Life itself.  Surely Jacob could check all these boxes.  Especially when we are alone and are quiet (his campground didn’t have Wi-Fi), we can be flooded with these “adversaries”.  Sometimes it may even feel like it is God who is bringing the battle.  But I don’t think that’s the case.

It seems to me that God is much more interested in blessing than cursing.  Accountability comes for all of us, of course, but only when the Life of God is held high to give us something to contrast our lives with.  God has no need to judge – we’ve got that down to a science.

What God does do really well, however, is come alongside and whisper (or sometimes shout) words of hope and blessing to us.  Words of love and encouragement about who we are and who we can become.  I think Jacob faced his demons that night and was tempted to retreat.  But God was there in the flesh to strive with Jacob through the night, calling him forward, calling him into the morning light, a new day, a new chapter in which he would see the promises come to fruition.

When morning came, there was no clear winner.  Jacob got a new name – one which would become the name for an entire nation of people – the Hebrew people – the cross over people – the people who strive with God in order to cross over rivers into myriad Promised Lands. 

And Jacob also got a limp.  An injury that would remind him of the striving.  Don’t mistake this as some form of punishment to turn God into a jerk and Jacob a needless victim.  On the contrary, I am confident Jacob was grateful for the limp, because as far as everybody thought at that time, to see God face to face meant certain death.  Jacob was alive and moving forward toward promise.  His limp would forever cause him to be grateful, not bitter.  He saw God in a new way by the dawn and put a word to it.  That’s how these things usually go: we strive with God by our side, and we discover a new level of beauty that perhaps we didn’t see before, and it adds to our language about this incredible One we seek and serve.  Of course, the paradox is that we are sought and served more than we seek and serve…

Where are you camping in your life right now?  What does it mean for you to cross the river?  What are you striving against?  Do you realize that God strives with you toward your best, most true self?  You have a teammate with you to help you along the way.  God is not your foe as it sometimes may seem.  God is your champion. 

Another interesting tidbit...  The story ends without the Stranger leaving.  Some scholars think this is a hint that God never left Jacob’s side, especially as he faced his brother in the very next scene.  Perhaps God has never left you, either.

But wait, there’s more!  This was the second of three visions experienced by Jacob.  When the third vision comes, Jacob’s response is different than the first two.  In the first vision, Jacob’s reaction was “Wow!”, and in the second was a wrestling match.  The third time around, when Jacob realizes he is experiencing the Divine, his response is, “Heneni!”  Heneni is a Hebrew word that shows up only a handful of times in the Hebrew Bible.  It translates, “Here am I.”  Jacob, toward the end of his life, finally matured into a person who trusted the nature and character of God so much that his response was simply, “I’m in.” 

Don’t wait until the end of your life to get to Heneni.  Strive toward Heneni now, because life is short and Life awaits. 

Jacob's Ladder: Above and Beside

Jacob was on the run when God came to him in a dream (Genesis 28:10-19).  He and his mother Rebekah had just won the chess game with Esau and his father, Isaac.  Esau, known for being a skilled hunter, having just figured out he got swindled out of half of his inheritance and all of the long-term benefits associated with being the first born son, was, to say the least, pissed.  That’s why Jacob was running: there was likely a target on his back!

After a solid day of fleeing for his life, he finally decided to set up camp for the night.  No glamping here, he found a rock for his head and called it good.  As he slept, he experienced an extremely powerful dream where he saw a ladder/stairway leading up to heaven, with angels ascending and descending upon it.  None of the angels addressed him.  Rather, God addressed Jacob directly, assuring him that the same covenant that had been made with his grandfather, Abraham, was carrying over to Jacob.  That’s the story in a nutshell.  Pretty awesome, huh?

Unfortunately, the awesomeness of the story is easily lost on us because we don’t live in the ancient world.  If we did, we would be shocked at this story.  Let’s unpack this puppy…

God was above.  In ancient cosmology (and for many yet today), people believed that the gods dwelled in the heavens far above the earth.  These gods were somewhat regional, looking over certain geographical areas, which meant you had to know where you were so that you knew which god you needed to appease.  Messenger-angels would communicate between heaven and earth at certain holy places – often in groves of trees or high places.  The idea about high places: you’re more likely to be closer to the gods if you are literally closer to the gods – the higher the better.  A ladder-portal reaching to the heavens was a sensible (albeit fantastic) dream.

Above and beside.  Scholars have enjoyed some debate over where to place God in this story.  That’s why some translations depict God speaking from the heavens, and others have God come alongside Jacob in the dream.  I like The Message translation because Eugene Peterson just makes it a both-and reality, because it is.  For the ancient mind stuck in the aforementioned cosmological worldview, however, this was really astonishing: the gods stay in heaven where they belong, they don’t come up close and personal.  The “besideness” of God in this story was part of the radically different way of thinking about God from the Jewish tradition.  We are more comfortable with this idea in our present age.  Maybe too comfortable.  Maybe we take the presence of God for granted to the point where God seems as distant as the ancient view where God stayed in heaven.

How would you live differently if you knew that the full presence of God was completely available to you 24/7?  The Good News is that this is true.  So perhaps we might need to rethink any notion of living apart from God.

Another hidden thing right in front of our faces is the fact that in the story, God initiates everything, and God pronounces that the covenant has been passed to Jacob – blessing – without condition.  Usually, people beg and plead for the gods to pay even a little attention.  In this story, however, God makes the move forward Jacob, speaking Good News to him. 

Don’t miss this other obvious thing: Jacob was a trickster.  Because we know the rest of the story, we know he is very shrewd in his business dealings.  He just committed a great offense against his father and brother.  Yet there is no confession preceding God’s coming, speaking, or blessing.  As much as we love and hate the idea of earning our keep with God, that is a lie.  God is unconditionally loving and graceful toward us, ready to bless us as we pursue the Way that leads to Life (which is the Way witnessed in Jesus).  To choose to get on that path (again) is itself repentance, a turning from one way to a better Way.  All of this emanates from God who is ultimate love.  As John noted in his New Testament letter, we love because God loved us first.  It has to be this way, otherwise there is no grace at all.  Deal with it = you are loved.  Build your life on it, in fact.  The voice of God continues to invite you into your next resurrection.  The choice is yours – the offer stands forever.  But the choice comes with a stretch, which may be why you are reluctant to accept the invitation.

Beside and Above.  I think sometimes we are so comfortable with God’s omnipresence that we forget the majesty of the One we’re talking about.  We think about God’s presence being here with us in Napa, NorCal, the West Coast, the United States, and the all over the world.  But the Presence is also light years away, wherever creation continues to unfold.  The One who invites us to the Way has just a wee bit more perspective on things than you and me.  God’s Way is rooted in the essence and energy of life itself, which is why when we find ourselves living in it, we feel like we’ve been born again (and again and again and again and…).  We are tapping into the Source of Life itself.  The perpetual invitation calls us deeper and deeper, which is in significant contrast to our more shallow, self-centered, nationalistic, power hungry, greed oriented life that is so prevalent.  The Way that leads to life is a very different way, requiring different steps than those promoted by our culture.  A choice with a big stretch.  Discomfort as we learn new moves.  Yet so worth it.  Listen to Paul on this:

All around us we observe a pregnant creation. The difficult times of pain throughout the world are simply birth pangs. But it's not only around us; it's within us. The Spirit of God is arousing us within. We're also feeling the birth pangs. These sterile and barren bodies of ours are yearning for full deliverance. That is why waiting does not diminish us, any more than waiting diminishes a pregnant mother. We are enlarged in the waiting. We, of course, don't see what is enlarging us. But the longer we wait, the larger we become, and the more joyful our expectancy. (Romans 8:12-25)

God is everywhere, even alongside of you.  Loving you as you sit there in your dirty diaper.  Ready to clean you up and get you going again.  Promising to never leave you.  Calling you forward to new ways of life that is actually Life.  Better.  Bigger.  More beautiful. 

Your invitation awaits.  You are responding – is it the response you want?

Something's Growing

The story of Isaac, Rebekah, Esau and Jacob is absolutely rich (Genesis 25:19-34).  The details given let us know that the story was meant to be fodder for lots of discussion around the campfires and dinner tables of old, and here we are considering it again today.  That’s a good sign that we’ve tripped onto an epic story.  And it is.

              Isaac, now married for some undisclosed period of time (long enough to know he and Rebekah are having fertility issues), prays for help.  God answers his cry and their attempts at getting pregnant take shape, even though they are, like Abraham and Sarah, on the older side (Isaac is 60 when they conceive).  The longer the pregnancy goes, the harder it is for Rebekah.  So hard, in fact, that she cries out to God in agony, wishing she were dead!  God hears her cry and explains why her pregnancy is particularly uncomfortable: she’s carrying twins.  (Aside: note that this is yet another time in this foundational story of Judaism where God responds to a woman’s cry.  That’s significant in a patriarchal age when women were treated as property and had little social voice.)  Making matters worse, Rebekah learns that the two children she iscarrying are competitive, even wrestling in utero, and when the delivery comes, Jacob is holding the heel of his hairy brother.  The stage is set – two brothers who struggle from the get-go.

              More critical details are provided in this introduction to these two boys who will largely define how Israel thinks of themselves and the world around them.  Dad prefers Esau, Mom prefers Jacob.  Esau is a skilled outdoorsman, bringing home lots of game, and Jacob is the student who prefers to stick around the office of the family business.  He likes to cook, too, and does a good job of it with Esau’s spoils.  As soon as readers stop and pay even a little attention to these details, they must be caught up in it.  Because readers were born at some point and understand the dynamics created if favorites are clearly known.  If we don’t have firsthand experience, we have seen it.  These details beg some questions.

              How would favoritism potentially be recognized by each kid?  Imagine it for a while.  How do they know they are favorites?  How might that feel?  How would it be recognized by onlookers outside the family?  How might that impact how they treat these two boys?  How does being a favorite (or not) mess with a kid’s identity, self-worth, and vision?  What kind of foundation is created when favoritism is present?

              One result is competition.  Esau is technically the firstborn (by five minutes), and is Dad’s favorite.  That puts him on the top of the food chain.  Whether or not he knows it is somewhat irrelevant because Jacob definitely knows it – he’s felt it all his life.  And he doesn’t like it.  And with the help of Mom, he is going to change it.

              “The quickest way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.”  This is statistically accurate (and not just for men).  My wife lured me into her web with Beef Stroganoff.  I was a goner.  Esau came in from a hunting expedition tired and hungry.  Jacob was ready with his famous Lentil Stew.  Esau let his hunger override his mind and control his mouth.  Before he knew it, he took an oath relinquishing his pole position to Jacob.  My guess is he didn’t really take it seriously.  Didn’t matter – the deed was done.  Another piece of the drama to chew on that begs more questions.

              What does this scene tell us about the character of Esau and Jacob, that one would treat something so precious as to give it up so flippantly, and that the other would orchestrate such a deceptive transaction (which was a set up for the much more deviant move to come later with Isaac)?  How is this story an allusion to all the stories that are coming later that include rival tribes?  What does it say about core character issues not just with Jacob, but with Israel herself, which is what he represents?  Better refill your drink and get some more chips – there is a lot to process here!

              Good literature does exactly what we see here.  One reason classic books are classic is because the author has done a good job setting things up in the beginning, and works them out throughout the story.  That’s what we are invited to work with here – much more than a simple check box to help us know that Jacob somehow became the patriarch of what would become the Jewish nation.  Of course, if we are slowing down enough to sit with a text like this, our gaze will eventually turn to ourselves and our world.

              Have you spent much time processing how your beginning story has informed the whole of your story?  Are you aware that you never really outgrow your story, that it is woven into the fabric of who you are and will continue to be?  Or have you stuffed it away, hidden it in a closet or swept it under a rug, thinking that if you ignore it, your origin story will have little effect on you?  You may not be paying any attention to it at all, thinking you’re off the hook.  Nope.  You have been shaped by your story of origin.  You may not realize it, but it has been informing your thoughts, feelings and behavior your entire life.  And it will continue to do so for the remainder of your life.  That’s a fact.  How your origin story informs the rest of your story depends on what you’re willing to do with it.  Everyone is born to human parents, which means everyone has experienced some form of mess.  Your mess may be different than my mess, but it’s all relative, all still a mess, and each of us is invited to be aware of our mess and determine if we want that mess to create more messes in our life.

              When we are aware of the mess inherent in our origin story (and the good, beautiful stuff, too), we then have the opportunity to integrate it into our lives to help us grow into who we want to become.  Everything belongs in our story (thanks, Richard Rohr).  This simple truth doesn’t make the bad stuff we’ve experienced okay, it just simply reminds us that we are complex, composite creatures that have been shaped by innumerable forces from our first breath forward.  Our faith provides some hopeful help, here, because what we see as this origin story unfolds is a God who comes alongside to help work things out, to help us in our struggle, to do something redemptive even with the pain we’ve all been through.  Not to destroy us, but to help us become more alive and free than we thought our story could allow.

              This is why the writer of Psalm 119 had to write the longest Psalm about the Way of God: actually worked!  It’s why Paul talked about the futility of rule-keeping legalism in favor of walking in the Way of the Spirit – relationship with God – in his letter to the church in Rome.  Over the centuries, ghis Ground of Being we refer to as God has been drawing us in, inviting us to root ourselves in the Spirit-infused Way of life that heals and restores not only ourselves, but serves to bring healing wherever we go.  This, of course, begs some questions.

              Are you aware of this Way of God that leads to life?  Are you aware of how it may be similar or different than the way a lot of the world operates?  Are you learning more and more about the Way so that you can be on it and in it?

              Jesus knew that simply hearing about the Way wasn’t enough to make a significant difference in life.  The seeds of the Way need to be cultivated if we ever want to see fruit.  Paying attention to how we cultivate that seed matters.  In his parable of the soils, Jesus speaks plainly about why some people hear the Good News of the Way of God but see little impact – their soil is not conducive to growth.  Knowing that soil matters might help us be less judging toward others, especially if we know that we are not always in control of the fertility of the soil we find ourselves in.  On the other hand, once we know that soil matters, we can do our part to ensure that the soil of our lives is as fertile as possible so that we might experience life in its fullness.  Fruit enough for ourselves and plenty of others.  This, of course, begs more questions.

What is your soil like?  How are cultivating it?  What sort of growth are you looking for – what kind of “plant” or you wanting to cultivate?

              A friend of mine once said that he and his wife try to parent their children so as to limit the amount of therapy they’ll need in the future.  Another friend of mine, when we talk of everyday goofs as well as deeper, uglier stuff we do that naturally affect our children and those around us says, “Well, write that down for the therapist!”  More reflection on who we are and who we are becoming is something that benefits everyone – ourselves, who we immediately impact, and far, far beyond what we can imagine.  One practice from the distant past that is rooted in our biblical story is the Prayer of Examen.  In this time of prayerful, daily reflection (lasting 15-20 minutes), we invite God to help us see ourselves more clearly so that we can pay attention to who we are and who we are becoming.  I invite you to try this on for size this week.  Pick at time toward the end of your day (I like the end of my work day), and move through this process from Ignatius (or use this video to guide you).  It just might help cultivate the soil in such a way that who you really can be might grow and flourish.

Decisions, Decisions

Genesis 24 is all about decisions. And it’s long, really long. It sort of feels long and drawn out like a lot of decisions in life. Here’s a frequent conversation Kaylan and I have. Maybe you can relate.
“Where do want to eat?”
“How about pizza?”
“Eh…what about tacos?”
“Nope. Thai?”
Fast forward 45 minutes, and we’ve driven around Napa three times, and somehow always end up at In N Out. 
I can’t promise that Genesis 24 will solve all of your date night decisions, but I think it does point us in some helpful directions. So take a look at it. I’m not going to include it all here, because it’s roughly the length of the dictionary. Here’s the cliff notes.
Abraham realizes Isaac needs a wife, so he calls in his most trusted servant. He makes him place his hand on Abraham’s…man parts…I’ll explain later. The he has him promise he’ll go back to where Abraham is from and find a wife for Isaac. 
His servant promises and heads out. When he arrives, he sits by a well, where the young women would be going to get water. He thinks to himself, “Whoever offers me and my camels water might be the right type of person.” Lo and behold, a woman named Rebekah comes up and does just that. 
After some quick conversation, the servant is welcomed to Rebekah’s family’s home. It doesn’t take long before he admits to the family why he’s there, and everyone (including Rebekah) agrees that marrying Isaac is good idea. After working out the details, Rebekah returns with the servant, sees Isaac, they marry, grow to love each other, and the rest is history. No Tinder or Christian Mingle needed.
So, then how does this help us think about decisions today, thousands of years later? We shouldn’t take it (or a lot of things in the Bible) as a template. Instead, we should look at what the story is moving towards, and have our decision move in the same way. When we look at the context of the story, we find that certain parts of it are pretty radical for their time, and point in a certain direction. So, let’s check out three ways this happens.
Moving Away from a Fatalistic View of God   
The decision in this story is really important. You can tell that by the weird “put your hand on my man parts” piece. It sounds really odd to us, but at that time, it was sort of like saying “Swear on your kids.” I wouldn’t recommend trying to bring that tradition back.
Even though this is a really big decision, this is one of the only stories in the surrounding context of Genesis that doesn’t include God’s direct intervention. If you look at the stories around it, God is always talking to someone or telling them to do something. In this story, Abraham just acts, and hopes that God will show up in that action. He doesn’t claim any divine authority, or wait for a divine word. 
There’s a good reason for this. Scholars generally agree that this is one of the last stories added to the narrative of Genesis, and because of this it reflects a different understanding of God. It was probably included after Israel had seen some stuff – slavery, exile, war and a host of other tragedies. This had to have shaped their view of God. It’s always harder to say anything is God’s will once you’ve seen enough hardship. They still trusted that God would show up. They just weren’t claiming to know what that would look like.
Here’s where this comes into play for us today. Thousands of years later, we still tend to have a pretty fatalistic view of God. When it comes to big decisions, we often get anxious wondering if we’ve strayed from God’s path for us. I think this story is trying to lead us into greater freedom when it comes to decisions. 
We often think of God’s work in our lives like a set of train tracks that we have to stay on if we want to get to the good things God has. It’s fatalistic. If we stray, life may spin out of control. But that metaphor doesn’t really work for this story. It’s more like wandering down a really wide path, and trusting that God can use our exploration to lead is somewhere worthwhile. 
Before Kaylan and I got engaged, we went through this incredibly angst-filled period where we tried to figure out if it was God’s will for us to get married. You know what? We never figured it out. We knew we loved and admired each other, wanted the same things out of life, and ended up taking the leap. Seven years later, it has been the best decision I’ve ever made, and the one that has taught me the most about God. I don’t think there’s some sort of perfect path. Life is filled with lots of great paths, and God is on all of them. Choose one with freedom and confidence. 
Moving Towards Divine Values
This story offers freedom. It also offers us guidance, mainly by pointing us in the direction that God seems to be moving. When trying to find a wife for Isaac, the servant seems to do something superstitious. He lays out a sort of divine test: “Who will offer me water?” In reality, this wasn’t superstitious at all. He’s trying to identify values – hospitality, openness to strangers, generosity. These are the same values that the narrative of Genesis identifies with God. He’s looking for someone who seems to get what God is about, and is shaping their life in a similar way. 
For us, then, we don’t get a narrow path of God’s will, but we do get a direction. The Bible contains movement. It’s movement towards love, wholeness, hospitality, grace, humility and much more. It’s what we sometimes call shalom. The Hebrew word that means completeness – the entire embodiment of divine love. 
So if you’re looking for guidance in a decision, the biggest question to ask is. “Is this moving in the same direction as God?” If an action moves us towards shalom, then run towards it with freedom. If not, maybe think twice about it.
When Kaylan and I were moving from Los Angeles to Indianapolis, I began looking for a job that would support us while she was in grad school. We were looking, and even prayed for, a couple specific things. We had an amount we needed me to make for us to get by, and we needed it to be close to our apartment because we only had one car. Within a few weeks, I had a job offer that met both of those requirements. We felt like our prayers were answered.
Then I started asking some questions about what type of values the job embodied. First, it was at a for-profit college. Not all for-profit colleges are bad, but many have garnered a reputation for taking advantage of students to make money (think Trump University). Next, I looked at the nature of the job. It was labeled as a student services job, but as they described it, the objective was to keep the students enrolled and paying tuition. Finally, they noted that most of their students fell into a lower socio-economic bracket. The job seemed to be doing whatever it took to keep people in poverty paying for an education that was semi-accredited. 
All of a sudden, I realized this job wasn’t moving the same direction as God. What initially seemed like an answer to prayer now seemed like a potential injustice. So I turned it down. I’d like to say another great paying job popped up right away, but it didn’t. We were really poor for a year while I pieced together work. And I’ve never regretted it. 
Moving Toward Empowerment
There’s one particular value that this story is begging us to consider when we make decisions. It’s the value of empowerment, specifically of those our society pushes to the margins. Abraham, for all of his flaws, does something pretty revolutionary in this story. He gives Rebekah the final say on marriage. From the start, Abraham tells his servant that if the woman doesn’t want to marry Isaac, she shouldn’t. At this point in history, women were basically considered property. Abraham could have essentially purchased a wife for Isaac, but he didn’t. He let the person with the least amount of power in the story have the final say. And she turns out to be the hero.
She’s the one who embodies God’s hospitality. She’s the one who has the faith to leave home, just like Abraham did, and travel far away in pursuit of God. She becomes the matriarch of the family. 
So when we’re making decisions, this story asks us to consider how our actions empower those that society gives the least amount of power to. Because they likely are the ones who understand God best. I haven’t lived in Napa long, but it doesn’t take long to see who are often offered the least amount of access to power. A few come to mind – migrant workers, homeless individuals, people of color, people with mental illness. This story, and really all of Scripture, asks us to shape our decisions around empowering those who haven’t been. Not because we’re doing them a favor or because we have some savior complex, but because when we don’t, we’re completely missing God.
I hope this story offers you freedom when you make decisions. I hope it points you in the direction of divine love. I hope it causes you to empower others with your choices. Maybe most importantly, I hope it assures you that whichever path you take, God is on it with you, nudging you, and all of us, toward wholeness. 
 

Abraham and Isaac and Supreyes

CrossWalking Guide

July 2, 2017

Thanks for joining in today!  Please keep this guide near your cereal bowl or bathroom mirror – wherever you’ll see it easily – so that what happens today goes deeper in the tomorrows ahead.  If you’relooking for the teaching summary, keep scrolling…

Welcoming Song: Learnin’ to Fly

Welcome and Announcements

You are invited.  We choose to enter into this space knowing that God is present and desiring to move in, through and with us toward restoration and renewal.  For the whole world.  For strained relationships.  For communities.  For families.  For individuals.  Joining God in this resurrection venture is a choice that comes with a stretch.  A choice to make the most of this space right here, right now. 

What is your choice?  Will you join in today?  Are you willing to stretch?

Song: He Brings Me Love

Centering Meditation.  Read the following Psalm.  Have you ever felt like this?  Which parts?  How are you feeling today?

Psalm 13 (NLT)

O Lord, how long will you forget me? Forever?
How long will you look the other way?
How long must I struggle with anguish in my soul,
with sorrow in my heart every day?
How long will my enemy have the upper hand?
Turn and answer me, O Lord my God!
Restore the sparkle to my eyes, or I will die.
Don’t let my enemies gloat, saying, “We have defeated him!”
Don’t let them rejoice at my downfall.
But I trust in your unfailing love.
I will rejoice because you have rescued me.
I will sing to the Lord
because he is good to me.

Meditation Prayer. Sometimes, O God, it seems as though we’re all alone, like nobody cares. Sometimes we hear others laughing at us hurting our feelings making us feel unimportant or worthless. Yet you have promised always to be with us. Help us to remember that promise and to be strengthened by it. Amen.

Meditation Song: Reunion

The Focal Text | Genesis 22:1-14 (NLT)

After all this, God tested Abraham. God said, "Abraham!"
     "Yes?" answered Abraham. "I'm listening."
     He said, "Take your dear son Isaac whom you love and go to the land of Moriah. Sacrifice him there as a burnt offering on one of the mountains that I'll point out to you."
     Abraham got up early in the morning and saddled his donkey. He took two of his young servants and his son Isaac. He had split wood for the burnt offering. He set out for the place God had directed him. On the third day he looked up and saw the place in the distance. Abraham told his two young servants, "Stay here with the donkey. The boy and I are going over there to worship; then we'll come back to you."
     Abraham took the wood for the burnt offering and gave it to Isaac his son to carry. He carried the flint and the knife. The two of them went off together.
     Isaac said to Abraham his father, "Father?"
     "Yes, my son."
     "We have flint and wood, but where's the sheep for the burnt offering?"
     Abraham said, "Son, God will see to it that there's a sheep for the burnt offering." And they kept on walking together.
     They arrived at the place to which God had directed him. Abraham built an altar. He laid out the wood. Then he tied up Isaac and laid him on the wood. Abraham reached out and took the knife to kill his son.
     Just then an angel of God called to him out of Heaven, "Abraham! Abraham!"
     "Yes, I'm listening."
     "Don't lay a hand on that boy! Don't touch him! Now I know how fearlessly you fear God; you didn't hesitate to place your son, your dear son, on the altar for me."
Abraham looked up. He saw a ram caught by its horns in the thicket. Abraham took the ram and sacrificed it as a burnt offering instead of his son.
     Abraham named that place God-Yireh (God-Sees-to-It). That's where we get the saying, "On the mountain of God, he sees to it."

Table Talk.  What surprises you about this passage?  What bothers you?  What inspires you?  Some people want to walk away from the faith because of this passage – why do you think that is?

The Teaching | Abraham and Isaac: Surprise Supreyes

We tend to focus our gaze on the fact that God was requiring Abraham to sacrifice Isaac.  When we do, the whole point of the story shifts to seeing God as a tyrant who puts his people through the paces, asking them to do horrible things as tests of faith.  When we keep our eyes fixed on this part of the story, every fear in us of God acting as a great judge is affirmed, and we walk around in terror, hoping not to make eye contact with God lest God call us to the same.

But this is not what the original hearers of the story would have zoned in on, because, while such a request would be grounds for putting God in prison today, it was normal and expected then.  Human sacrifice was the ultimate display of paying homage to God.  It had been done countless times through history as a means to keep the weather good and the crops coming.

What was so compelling in this story, then?  The fact that God stopped the execution and provided a ram instead of Isaac would have caused every person in antiquity to stop what they were doing and drop their jaw.  Gods don’t do such things.  Gods need to be appeased because we are so annoying.  Gods require more and more from us to keep them happy and us alive.  Gods do not do anything for humanity from a place of generosity or grace.  Gods demand human sacrifice – they do not call them off.  God not only calling it off, but providing a way out and God’s “expense”, and then ending the practice of human sacrifice?  That was front page news.  It was so astounding that most people would even call it fake news.  Yet it is the foundation of the new faith tradition begun in and through imperfect, completely contextualized Abraham and Sarah.

We are hardwired, it seems, to look for lightning bolts from God.  What if our assumptions about God at our core are wrong?  What if we’ve missed the real point of the story?  What if we assume God will surprise us with something good?  How might that shape our perception of reality?  How might that shape our capacity to see what God is actually up to?  Perhaps that is the great new thing that Abraham’s new faith tradition was really about.  How might things be different if we are constantly on the lookout for God to be good, providing an abundance of beauty and possibility?  What if we train our eyes to expect to be surprised by God’s goodness?  That would change everything.

Table Talk.  What seems to be sticking with you from our time together today?  What’s a take home message for you?  What might God be calling us to do in response to what’s happening here?

Offering Song: The Prayer I Used to Pray.  During this song, take a moment to place any offering, prayer request, comments and Clue In into the tins on the tables.  Thank you for your support!  CrossWalk can’t without your generosity.  Thanks for your prayer requests!  We consider it an honor to serve you in lifting your request to God.  Thanks for your comments!  CrossWalk is an ongoing experiment seeking to serve God toward resurrection/restoration/renewal – feedback helps us serve smarter!  Thanks for your Clue In!  If we don’t know who you are, it’s really tough to support you.  Thanks for being here today!

Notes, thoughts, doodles…

Video Block
Double-click here to add a video by URL or embed code. Learn more

Seeing

Try this to get more out of the blog this week by reviewing these elements we practiced together on Sunday.

Choosing to Be Present to the Presence of God.  The very nature of God is life and love.  Restoring, renewing, resurrecting – all these words reflect what God is up to in the world today.  Shalom – a holistic wellness, wholeness of peace in ourselves and in the world – has always been the True North that is God and guides God’s followers.  Joining God in this venture is a choice.  A choice to be present to the Presence of God which constantly encourages us forward to greater expressions of grace, love, and life.  This means you have a choice every day to be open or not to God.  What is your choice today?

This Weeks Focal Text | Genesis 21:8-21 (NLT):

When Isaac grew up and was about to be weaned, Abraham prepared a huge feast to celebrate the occasion. But Sarah saw Ishmael—the son of Abraham and her Egyptian servant Hagar—making fun of her son, Isaac. So she turned to Abraham and demanded, “Get rid of that slave woman and her son. He is not going to share the inheritance with my son, Isaac. I won’t have it!”
     This upset Abraham very much because Ishmael was his son. But God told Abraham, “Do not be upset over the boy and your servant. Do whatever Sarah tells you, for Isaac is the son through whom your descendants will be counted. But I will also make a nation of the descendants of Hagar’s son because he is your son, too.”
So Abraham got up early the next morning, prepared food and a container of water, and strapped them on Hagar’s shoulders. Then he sent her away with their son, and she wandered aimlessly in the wilderness of Beersheba.
     When the water was gone, she put the boy in the shade of a bush. Then she went and sat down by herself about a hundred yards away. “I don’t want to watch the boy die,” she said, as she burst into tears.
     But God heard the boy crying, and the angel of God called to Hagar from heaven, “Hagar, what’s wrong? Do not be afraid! God has heard the boy crying as he lies there. Go to him and comfort him, for I will make a great nation from his descendants.”
     Then God opened Hagar’s eyes, and she saw a well full of water. She quickly filled her water container and gave the boy a drink.
     And God was with the boy as he grew up in the wilderness. He became a skillful archer, and he settled in the wilderness of Paran. His mother arranged for him to marry a woman from the land of Egypt.

Being Honest with Ourselves and God.  What is your heart crying out about today?  Take some time and meditate on this question.  Don’t hold back – you are not going to offend God with sloppy communication in the pursuit of honesty.  Sometimes expletives are highly appropriate in prayer.  Let ‘er rip.  God is mature and graceful enough to hear you out.

Getting your thoughts out.  What are your initial reactions to the text we’re going to look at more deeply today?  What questions do you have?  What is surprising?  What is upsetting?  On another note, who is our world holds power?  Who in our world dwell on the lower rungs of the ladder of power?

The Teaching and Response.  As you read the summarized teaching below, keep the following questions running in the back of your mind.  What’s your take home from this teaching?  What seems to be sticking with you as you reflect on this week’s teaching?  Why do you think that is?  Could God be using this to invite you in some way toward greater shalom personally and/or in community?  What choices are you making to stretch toward the resurrection God is calling you toward?

The story of Hagar and Ishmael leaving Abraham’s camp is better understood in the bigger story in which it sits.  Before Hagar was Abraham’s wife and mother of his first son, she was Sara’s servant/slave.  Her marriage was not born out of love, but was thrust upon her as a mean to bear a child for Abraham.   Perhaps this was not uncommon in the ancient world – that does not make it right or good.  She got pregnant.  Now she was empowered, and apparently she knew it given the report of Sara about her gloating.  Is it reasonable to think that Hagar had attitude toward Sara?  Of course.  She was human, and victimized at that.  But Sara was still Queen of Abraham’s castle, and sent her packing. 

Hagar had the baby, and the baby was named Ishmael, which translates “God hears.”  After some period of time, Sara finally got pregnant in her old age as predicted.  When Isaac (“laughter”) was born, Sara became concerned about his fate: how would he be treated by Hagar, by Ishmael, by Abraham?  Her concern may have led to paranoia: were Abraham and Ishmael making fun of little Isaac?  Was that merely a taste of what was to come?  So she pulled rank, pushing Abraham to send Hagar and Ishmael away.  When Abraham sent them away, he didn’t send them with much, which was awful on his part.  Gaining her freedom may seem like a gift at first glance, but in that culture at that time it very likely meant that as a free woman no longer married to Abraham, her son Ishmael was no longer considered his heir.  In one awful moment, she went from being enslaved yet safe, to free and extremely vulnerable.  Was Sara’s reaction harsh?  Was Abraham’s stinginess appalling?  Yes.  Inexcusably so.  They were human beings, it seems, which means they were messy, imperfect, screw ups.  Yet still key characters in an unfolding story God was trying to craft with willing participants.  As one commentator noted, “God works with individuals on the scene; God does not perfect people before deciding to work through them.”  And so the story continued.

Pushed into the wilderness with little in the way of provisions, Hagar and Ishmael suffer.  In her grief, Hagar is confident that she will die.  At her lowest, she distances herself from Ishmael so she doesn’t have to see him die, at which point she experiences God speaking to her from heaven:

“Hagar, what’s wrong? Do not be afraid! God has heard the boy crying as he lies there. Go to him and comfort him, for I will make a great nation from his descendants.”
Then God opened Hagar’s eyes, and she saw a well full of water. She quickly filled her water container and gave the boy a drink.
And God was with the boy as he grew up in the wilderness. He became a skillful archer, and he settled in the wilderness of Paran. His mother arranged for him to marry a woman from the land of Egypt. – Genesis 21:17-21 (NLT)

This is a beautiful and instructive and surprisingly broad picture of God being shared in this Jewish-oriented text that in general doesn’t have much respect for Ishmael’s line.  God doesn’t hasten Hagar and Ishmael’s death – God instead opens Hagar’s eyes to what she needs to survive, and encourages her with a promise for their future.  Do you realize what a big deal this is?  Sit with it until you do.  This brief passage says much about the breadth of God’s grace for all people regardless of the awful treatment they receive from those who feel especially empowered or chosen by God (Sara and Abraham).  God is bigger and more beautiful.  The nature of God, the Spirit of God is life, restoration, renewal, hope, resurrection.  This story is a story of hope for all the Hagars and Ishmaels of the world. Biblical scholar Phyllis Trible speaks eloquently about Hagar’s becoming many things to many people (see chap. 16):

“Most especially, all sorts of rejected women find their stories in her. She is the faithful maid exploited, the black woman used by the male and abused by the female of the ruling class, the surrogate mother, the resident alien without legal recourse, the other woman, the runaway youth, the religious fleeing from affliction, the pregnant young woman alone, the expelled wife, the divorced mother with child, the shopping bag lady carrying bread and water, the homeless woman, the indigent relying upon handouts from the power structures, the welfare mother, and the self-effacing female whose own identity shrinks in service to others.”

Hagar was blind to the water very near her.  God showed up to help her see.  If you are a Hagar or Ishmael and feel wronged by life, the systems you were born into, etc., the Spirit of God is with you to help you see that you are valued and loved, and that there is hope.  You are not as alone or hopeless as you think.  Cry out to God with all you’ve got, and then be still and listen for God to speak in various ways words of hope and provision.

Biblical scholar Leander Keck notes that

“the text does affirm that God chooses the line of Isaac, not that of Ishmael. This is a strong claim, and it occasions a sharper question for Isaac’s descendants than if the treatment had been more “even-handed.” What one does with the Ishmaels of this world in the face of the claims for Isaac comes front and center. Abraham was chosen so that all families might be blessed through him. This means that the children of Abraham who are also the children of Isaac are so to comport themselves that blessing rather than curse comes upon the nations.” – New Interpreter’s Bible

We who are more like the Sarahs and Abrahams of the world (and we likely don’t know that we are) need to pay attention to this story, because they absolutely blew it.  They were harsh to say the least, and probably felt justified because they were the chosen ones.  Thank God that their harshness was not reflective of God.  Whether we justify our malicious behavior with nationalism or religion or both, we must choose to be conscious of how God treats the worlds Hagars and Ishmaels decide if we are going to be the people of God or not.  One way is harsh.  The other is graceful.  Which way are you going to choose?  Who are you going to be?

Getting your reactions out. What’s your take home from this experience today?

A Prayer of Hope: Loving God, you are father and mother of us all. You love us as only a caring parent can, with a love that challenges all the difficulties around us and embraces us in arms that never let us go. As you have cared for outcasts like Hagar and Ishmael, so can we know that you will always love us. When we want to use family and friends as an excuse not to serve you, help us remember that loving others is a key way to love you; yet we must not see people as an excuse to avoid the difficulties of life that you sometimes set before us. Help us to love family and friends unconditionally, and thus to love you unconditionally, never placing one above another. And as we love others, help us to appreciate how much we are loved by you, our Creator God. Amen.

Hope and Hospitality

On Father’s Day, it seems appropriate to look a story about a father. Actually, it’s a story about one of the most famous fathers: father Abraham…you know the jingle if you ever endured Sunday School as a child. But, as we’ll see, the point of the story isn’t really about being a dad. It’s about faith, and what it looks like when life hasn’t gone the way we want it to. 
The story is in Genesis 18:1-15. It’s long, so hang in there. 
The Lord appeared to Abraham at the oaks of Mamre while he sat at the entrance of his tent in the day’s heat. 2 He looked up and suddenly saw three men standing near him. As soon as he saw them, he ran from his tent entrance to greet them and bowed deeply. 3 He said, “Sirs, if you would be so kind, don’t just pass by your servant. 4 Let a little water be brought so you may wash your feet and refresh yourselves under the tree. 5 Let me offer you a little bread so you will feel stronger, and after that you may leave your servant and go on your way—since you have visited your servant.”
They responded, “Fine. Do just as you have said.”
6 So Abraham hurried to Sarah at his tent and said, “Hurry! Knead three seahs of the finest flour and make some baked goods!” 7 Abraham ran to the cattle, took a healthy young calf, and gave it to a young servant, who prepared it quickly. 8 Then Abraham took butter, milk, and the calf that had been prepared, put the food in front of them, and stood under the tree near them as they ate.
9 They said to him, “Where’s your wife Sarah?”
And he said, “Right here in the tent.”
10 Then one of the men said, “I will definitely return to you about this time next year. Then your wife Sarah will have a son!”
Sarah was listening at the tent door behind him. 11 Now Abraham and Sarah were both very old. Sarah was no longer menstruating. 12 So Sarah laughed to herself, thinking, I’m no longer able to have children and my husband’s old.
13 The Lord said to Abraham, “Why did Sarah laugh and say, ‘Me give birth? At my age?’ 14 Is anything too difficult for the Lord? When I return to you about this time next year, Sarah will have a son.”
15 Sarah lied and said, “I didn’t laugh,” because she was frightened.
But he said, “No, you laughed.”

If you fast forward to chapter 21, you find Sarah does indeed, in her old age, have a baby. Crazy stuff. 
To get the weight and point of the story though, we need to back up. Reading it outside of its context makes it feel like a nice, quick miracle. But that’s not really what it was. If you go back, you find that Abraham was promised this kid a lonnnnnnnnng time ago. And the kid was supposed to bless the entire world. Abraham believes God and then waits. And waits. And waits. To the point that he and Sarah are way too old to have a baby. By the time we get to our story, life hasn’t gone the way it was supposed to. It seems like God didn’t show up as scheduled. 
We get the same message when we see who would’ve been hearing this story. This story was probably told around campfires and at dinner tables for generations. Eventually, it was written down, probably while Israel, the people reading it, were under the control of an oppressive foreign government. God had promised them some things too. Land. Freedom. Prosperity. All for the good of others. But God wasn’t showing up for them either. They would’ve read this story, and felt the weight of Abraham and Sarah’s pain. They knew what it was like to have life slowly grind the hope out of you. 
That’s what this story is about: what faith looks like when God isn’t showing up, and hasn’t for a long time. 
Paul looks at Abraham’s faith in this story and sees something interesting: resurrection. Check out Romans 4:17, So Abraham is our father in the eyes of God in whom he had faith, the God who gives life to the dead and calls things that don’t exist into existence. 
Just before this, Paul spends a whole chapter raving about Abraham’s faith. He holds him up as the model for faith, particularly for the type of faith that leads to resurrection, to experiencing “the God who gives life to the dead and calls things that don’t exist into existence.” If Paul sees this type of faith in Abraham, then we should take a closer look at his faith, because I’m guessing, at one time or another, you’ve felt like God didn’t show up. 
Normally we talk about faith in terms of unwavering trust- believing that God will show up, even when God hasn’t for a long time. But if Abraham is our prime example of faith, then that can’t be what faith is. Just take a look at his track record when it comes to trusting God. 
Somewhere along the line, he and Sarah get impatient with God, have him sleep with one of their young servants (an abuse of power), and have a child with her. It’s also pretty clear that they become cynical along the way. Sarah just straight up laughs at these messengers when they say she’s going to have a baby. And then, even after our story, Abraham accidentally almost lets Sarah marry another man. If this is the example of unwavering faith, then I think you and I are doing alright. More importantly, I think the story is trying to lead us to a different understanding of faith. 
What did Abraham and Sarah do that was so great? Well, you have to keep reading Genesis 18 to get a better picture. Right after the three messengers in our story leave Abraham and Sarah, they go to a place you might have heard of: Sodom and Gomorrah. When they get there, the men of the town gang up and try to rape them. Often, when people read this story, they see Sodom and Gomorrah’s problem as same-sex relationships. But that’s not at all what the story is about. In fact, Ezekiel just tells us directly what their problem was. 
Ezekiel 16:49-50 This is the sin of your sister Sodom: She and her daughters were proud, had plenty to eat, and enjoyed peace and prosperity; but she didn’t help the poor and the needy.  They became haughty and did detestable things in front of me, and I turned away from them as soon as I saw it.
Sodom’s problem wasn’t that they engaged in same-sex relationships. It’s that they were selfish, hoarded their resources, and refused to give to those who needed it. And you see this in Genesis 18. Instead of welcoming these three messengers, they try to rape them – the ultimate sign of control and hostility. The same-sex relationship isn’t the point. Their selfishness and lack of hospitality is. 
Now contrast this with Abraham’s reaction to these three men. As soon as he sees them walk by, he bows to them (a common sign of respect), welcomes them in, washes their feet, and sets a feast out for them (killing a calf for them was an extravagant gesture). 
Now, he didn’t know them from Adam, and life hadn’t panned out the way it was supposed to. Abraham and Sarah had every excuse to become bitter and hostile in their old age, to let these men pass by without a word. But they didn’t. Even when God wasn’t showing up, they opened their lives and home to strangers, and they met God in it. That, according to this story, is what faith is.
We’re meant to look at this story side by side with Sodom and Gomorrah and see how drastically different these three men are treated, and then follow Abraham’s example of radical faith and hospitality. 
Faith isn’t some sort of perfect trust or unwavering hope in God. Abraham and Sarah wavered all over the place. Instead, faith is continuing to be open to and welcome those we encounter in our journeys, even when life hasn’t turned out the way we think it should. Faith is choosing to offer the same inclusive love that God offers, even if we haven’t seen God for a while. 
And, on the other side of it, we just might experience resurrection. Not because God is rewarding us for good behavior, but because we’re aligning ourselves with the divine flow of love and hospitality that’s always at work in the world. We’re wading into a river that’s deeper and stronger than us. And it flows toward resurrection. 
So if life hasn’t turned out the way you hoped, it’s ok to doubt and question God, but as you do, stay open, welcoming and loving to those you encounter, and just like Abraham, you may eventually run into “the God who gives life to the dead and calls things that don’t exist into existence.”
 

Blown Minds, Warmed Hearts, Refined Lives

Blown Minds, Warmed Hearts, Refined Lives

When the spectacular arrival of the Holy Spirit dawned on the disciples and other believers in Jerusalem, minds were blown.  First, because it was a spectacle of epic proportions: the sound of wind without the breeze, the image of fire atop heads while unlearned languages came forth from the tongues within.  Tongues of fire begat newly-abled fluent tongues to speak to those visiting from afar.  How could your mind not be blown?

But the second reason minds were blown is what the dramatic scene itself communicated.  The Holy Spirit’s greeting wasn’t simply in Aramaic – the language the Jewish people knew well.  Essentially, every language was heard that day, a multilingual miracle using many disciples to communicate to many people gathered round.  God was speaking to everybody in their native tongue.  This implied that God wasn’t beyond speaking to people where they were in ways that they could understand.  It also meant that all those people hearing the testimony about God’s creation were people God deemed worthy of hearing.

I met a foster parent recently who recognized their special role in caring for foster children.  Children needing a foster home are coming from a difficult environment.  Sometimes those kids haven’t been told that they are loved and that they have inherent value.  This particular parent wanted to do everything in his power to correct that – because when our inherent value is communicated to us, it really does blow our minds.  It blew my mind when I woke up to it, too.  Have you awakened to this yet?  Or are you still asleep?

While minds were being blown, we can be sure hearts were being warmed.  Except for limited moments while engaged in ministry when Jesus’ disciples were endowed with the Spirit to minister miraculously in Jesus’ name, the Holy Spirit was for special characters in God’s narrative.  Not fisherman from Hillbillyville.  Definitely not tax former collectors.  Yet on this day, many of Jesus’ followers received the Spirit in a powerful way.  Message received?  God was no longer limiting the Spirit to a select few.  Now all access was granted to those who believed. That’s a heart warmer for sure.  Jesus was gone, and they still mattered.  Because we can look ahead in the story, we also know that the Spirit was given to future believers, too, regardless of previously held limitations.

When we awaken to what God is doing in the world, our hearts warm because we realize God’s love isn’t just for us, but it big enough for everybody.  When we look in the mirror and marvel at the fact that God loves us in spite of our shortcomings – and perhaps more importantly because of our shortcomings – our awakening is humbling.  What’s more humbling is the fact that this love extends even to your idiot cousin.  And your coworker who is in perpetual Monday morning mode.  And your classmate who is pretty sure his stuff doesn’t smell.  And the parent who physically abandoned you, or was emotionally unavailable, or even molested you.  And the drunk driver who killed your loved one.  And the Barack Obama.  And Donald Trump.  And Vladimir Putin.  And Kim Jun Un.  And Bashar al-Assad.  And members or Isis who become suicide bombers, crowd-plowing truck drivers, and pilots who steer planes into World Trade Centers.  And undocumented immigrants.  And black people.  And homeless people.  Every person ever created is loved by God as much as you and as much as anyone else.  When we wake up to this fact, our hearts are so warmed we are changed in our perspective.  It doesn’t make their horrors go away, but it does make us more humane in how we view them and address them.

A lot of people experienced an incredible display of the inbreaking of God.  Pretty cool.  All those people would have felt the breath of God that day – minds blown and hearts warmed – and would have likely lived in hope for the rest of their lives.  But something else equally beautiful happened as well.

In the last few verses of Acts 2, we discover that the wind-infused pyrotechnics show resulted in more than people feeling inner peace and hope:

All the believers devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching, and to fellowship, and to sharing in meals (including the Lord’s Supper), and to prayer.

A deep sense of awe came over them all, and the apostles performed many miraculous signs and wonders. And all the believers met together in one place and shared everything they had. They sold their property and possessions and shared the money with those in need. They worshiped together at the Temple each day, met in homes for the Lord’s Supper, and shared their meals with great joy and generosity— all the while praising God and enjoying the goodwill of all the people. And each day the Lord added to their fellowship those who were being saved.

The experience of Pentecost didn’t remain a personal faith thing alone.  Nope, this was a life changer.  Minds were blown.  Hearts were warmed.  And lives were refined.  Fire and wind have the capacity to burn off impurities and clear out debris.  The experience of God breaking into life changed the lives of many people.  They changed their lives to make room for ongoing learning, serving each other, hanging out together, and prayer.    This led to more good stuff – the Spirit worked powerfully through the Apostles, and everybody shared their stuff with each other.  They sold things so that they could help somebody else out. 

Humanity, at its core, hasn’t changed all that much.  We all still struggle between self-centeredness and other centeredness, between greed and generosity.  Somehow, when people experienced God up close and personal on that day, a shift took place.  “There is always enough for everyone’s need; there is never enough for everyone’s greed.”  Pentecost acted as a refiner’s fire for people like us who struggle with selfishness.  They became generous.

Oskar Schindler woke up and saved 1200+ Jewish people from extermination.  Mother Theresa woke up and served the poorest of the poor in Calcutta.  A friend of mine woke up (one of a series of awakenings in his life) and invested in at-risk children in Kenya instead of a fancy new car for himself.  Another friend of mine woke up a couple of weeks ago realizing that our kids in Africa would trade anything to have our problems, and cut a check for $2000 to help their cause.  Many friends have awakened to what CrossWalk is doing in the world and have giving generously to update our facility so that we can continue to be a space of Good News more effectively – a stage in the Courtyard, a remodeled kitchen, a rehung bell, money to remodel the façade, buy new chairs – the list is huge!  Money spent not for themselves, but for the hope of what we can offer the community.  Of course, time is perhaps the other great commodity we have to offer, and in many of the projects I mentioned, there are people donating untold, unseen, and unsung hours to make it happen.

In a consumer-driven culture that can’t help but determine decisions based on “what’s in it for me”, time and money given for selfless purposes is incredible.  Not just time to work on stuff, but to be together, to learn, to support.  All signs of being awakened or waking up.

And a final piece of good news.  Some of you may long for some tangible experience of the spirit.  You are waiting for the sound of wind and tongues of fire.  But it could just be that the way you begin to experience that is through the behavior that aligns ourselves with God – stuff in the final scene of Acts 2.  Join God in what God is doing, and you are much more likely to catch the breeze that will blow your mind, you’ll more likely sense the flame that can warm your heart, and in the process you will find your life refined into the footsteps of Jesus who totally nailed it.

In today’s dramatic reading, the Apostle Peter asked some penetrating questions:

Are you open to the Spirit speaking to you and living in you? (Pause between each question.) Do you let the Spirit act and speak courageously through you in compassionate and daring ways? Do you forgive yourself and others when mistakes are made? Do you bring hope and new dreams into the lives of others? Do you share in the passions of Jesus for a world of justice and love?   All these things are possible for you. What it means for you, for your church, and for the world is your joyous challenge to discover!

Have you experienced God in some way?  How have you allowed that to impact your life in tangible ways?  Do you realize that the experiences of God are there to call us home?  To align us more with the footsteps of Jesus?  If you’ve settled simply for inner peace, the good news is that there is much, much more for you to experience, and it comes when your life gets refined, when you allow God to remove the impurities and debris that accumulates when we are focused on ourselves.

Comparalyzed

I'm telling you the very truth now: When you were young you dressed yourself and went wherever you wished, but when you get old you'll have to stretch out your hands while someone else dresses you and takes you where you don't want to go." He said this to hint at the kind of death by which Peter would glorify God. And then he commanded, "Follow me."
Turning his head, Peter noticed the disciple Jesus loved following right behind. When Peter noticed him, he asked Jesus, "Master, what's going to happen to him?"
Jesus said, "If I want him to live until I come again, what's that to you? You—follow me.” – John 21:18-22 (The Message)

You have to love Peter.  He is so very human like us.  Immediately following his latest declaration of unwavering devotion and love, he finds himself stuttering in the face of reality once more.  The issue that nailed him is one that nails everyone I know, including myself.  He very naturally found himself comparing himself to someone else as a means of determining his lot.  What about John?  How’s he going to die?  Is he going to be martyred, too?  If not, is that fair?  His human tendency to compare himself to others paralyzed him momentarily.  He was comparalyzed.

Comparing ourselves to others is not in and of itself a problem.  Social comparison is a studied issue.  Comparison helps us form our identities as individuals and people groups.  Sometimes, however, we may find ourselves comparing ourselves to others in a way to messes with us in ugly ways, especially if we have a sense that our culture values some qualities more than others, or if there is some sort of social competition involved.

Have you ever compared yourself with others in such a way that you were negatively affected?

Perhaps I’m the only one, but I have been comparalyzed along many lines.  Comparing myself unfavorablywith others along the lines of physical appearance, relational health, and personal success are just three areas that have paralyzed me in one way or another.  Sometimes the paralysis comes because I feel like a total loser, assessing myself as worse off than others.  Sometimes the paralysis comes because of arrogance: I assess myself as better in some way than another. Both stall me out in their respective ways.

Of course, I’m not alone in this at all.  How many women are merciless toward themselves regarding their physical appearance based on comparison with whatever happens to be the current cultural definition of beauty?  How many men feel inadequate because they aren’t where they thought they should be in terms of success?

Theodore Roosevelt famously quipped, “Comparison is the thief of joy.”  Eventually, Peter came around and saw his martyrdom as a great honor rather than a rip off.  Legend has it that when it came time for his execution by crucifixion, he requested to be hung upside down so as not to be equated with Jesus.  No more complaints about John by that time.  Peter worked out his marching orders, growing through it, even, as we see reflected in his letter to the churches much later in his life:

Friends, when life gets really difficult, don't jump to the conclusion that God isn't on the job. Instead, be glad that you are in the very thick of what Christ experienced. This is a spiritual refining process, with glory just around the corner.  If you're abused because of Christ, count yourself fortunate. It's the Spirit of God and his glory in you that brought you to the notice of others. If they're on you because you broke the law or disturbed the peace, that's a different matter. But if it's because you're a Christian, don't give it a second thought. Be proud of the distinguished status reflected in that name! – 1 Peter 4:12-16 (The Message)

Regardless of who we are or how we are shaped, we can learn from this teaching moment between Jesus and Peter.  As Leader Keck noted:

It is in the post-resurrection community’s love for Jesus that he continues to be fully known. To love Jesus is to know Jesus, because, as Jesus’ words to Peter make clear, to love Jesus is to shape one’s life according to Jesus’ life… When Peter three times answers, “Yes, I love you,” he is not simply giving lip service to his love for Jesus, but is in essence pledging his life. Peter is who Jesus calls his followers to be, a disciple who puts no limits on his love, who will, like Jesus, love “to the end”.

When we compare ourselves with others, we fail to appreciate our unique story, our inherent value,  and our potential.  The context of the biblical story we’re looking at is a beachside breakfast hosted by Jesus.  It all began with Jesus giving advice about fishing that led to an enormous haul.  Such a catch required everyone’s help to pull it in.  Everyone mattered and was needed.  When they made it to shore, Jesus had breakfast waiting for them.  All of them.  Everyone was fed.  All of them mattered and each of them needed to eat, which Jesus provided.  We know that most of the 12 disciples were martyred, save two.  Judas took his own life, and John died of old age on the island of Patmos.  We know what happened to some of the followers of Jesus – most we do not.  When we stop for a moment and think about, we realize that the overwhelming majority of the people who have helped propagate the Good News are unknown and unsung.  Yet they were absolutely critical for bringing in the haul of fish who took that bait of the Gospel and chose to follow Jesus.

It's one thing to compare yourself to others to help distinguish your strengths and distinctive qualities.  But beyond that, we’re better off just focusing on how God has uniquely shaped us and called us to our task.  Jesus’ response to Peter wassimply, “You – follow me!”  You are called.  You are gifted.  You are amazing.  You are necessary.  You are needed.  You make a difference.  So be you.  Keep your eyes on what God is doing in and through you.

To help this idea stick, please enjoy this uplifting Ted Talk, and have a lollipop kind of day.

Be yourself.  Everyone else is already taken. – Oscar Wilde

But let each one test his own work, and then his reason to boast will be in himself alone and not in his neighbor. – Galatians 6:4 (ESV)

Come to Jesus Meeting

Some personal stories in our lives we remember because they are so beautiful.  Some we cannot forget because they are so powerful.  Jesus’ disciple, Peter, could not forget the exchange he and Jesus had after breakfast that day.  This would be the third time Jesus appeared alive again to the disciples after he had been killed.  Peter was beyond excited to see Jesus once again.  Little did he know things were about to get really uncomfortable.  He could not have known how critical it was for him – and the future of the Church – that it did.  Here is what is recorded in John’s Gospel:

When they had finished breakfast, Jesus said to Simon Peter, “Simon son of John, do you love me more than these?” He said to him, “Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Feed my lambs.” A second time he said to him, “Simon son of John, do you love me?” He said to him, “Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Tend my sheep.” He said to him the third time, “Simon son of John, do you love me?” Peter felt hurt because he said to him the third time, “Do you love me?” And he said to him, “Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Feed my sheep.” – John 21:15-17 (NRSV)

Simon Peter, or Simon son of John?  My parents, sisters and brother have called me “Peter” since I was born.  For the most part, except for when I am getting formally introduced, the only time I hear myself called “Peter” is when it comes out of their mouths.  When I am with them, I am Peter.  I became Pete in eighth grade.  It wasn’t something I chose.  It just happened.  It was Alex’s doing.  Alex Claypool was probably the most popular guy in school.  Think Ferris Beuhler.  He played trombone, as did I, and we sat next to each other every day in band class.  We became friends.  He called me Pete.  Since he happened to be a demigod at Okemos Middle School, everyone else fell in line with his decree.  Since then, pretty much everybody has called me “Pete.”  But then my sister Ann married a great guy named Ken.  Ken switches it up.  Sometimes he calls me Pete instead of Peter in family gatherings.  It seriously jacks with me.  But I like it, because I need to blend the two together.  The reason I share this with you is to help point out something obvious to me: when Jesus called his disciple “son of John”, you can be completely confident that Peter’s ears perked up.  That was his family name, not his friend-of-Jesus name.

The first time we hear the son of John name is at the beginning of Peter’s journey with Jesus:

Then Andrew brought Simon to meet Jesus. Looking intently at Simon, Jesus said, “Your name is Simon, son of John—but you will be called Cephas” (which means “Peter”). – John 1:42 (NLT)

Simon was what his parents, sisters and brothers called him.  Jesus gave him a new name – and an altered identity – when he began calling him Peter.  I wonder what Peter’s initial reaction was to be called that name from his beginnings as a disciple.  Upon reflection, I imagine he realized that by calling him Simon, something greater was being communicated.  It was.  What was about to ensue was a conversation to help both Jesus and Peter determine who Peter really was, and who Peter would choose to become.  Bear in mind that Peter’s dark moment – when he denied even knowing Jesus the night Jesus was arrested – had not yet been addressed.  Everybody knew that.  There was unfinished business that needed to be addressed.  Starting the conversation by calling him Simon called into question his status as a disciple.  It may have been just Peter and Jesus around the campfire, but I have a hunch there may have been listening ears nearby.

Do you love me more than these?  As it sometimes happens, when Jesus asked this question, Peter was no doubt flooded with thoughts.  Everything in Peter wants to declare allegiance, of course, yet the “more than these” adds a different dimension.  Jesus is most likely referring to the others disciples.  What he is really asking is this: do you love me more than they love me?  That might seem like an odd question, like a child asking their parents who they love more (BTW, if my siblings are paying attention, it’s me).  Jesus asked it, however, because of how Peter behaved in the past regarding his devotion.  Around the dinner table with other disciples present, in a moment of adoration (and a little desperation), Peter essentially blurted out that he would die for Jesus (John 13:34-48).  I bet more than a few of the other followers were thinking, what a brown noser! That’s fair.  And it’s why Jesus is asking the question about his devotion in this way.  In light of the fact that this would-be-martyr couldn’t even handle a guilty-by-association test, would he still be willing to make such a claim?  Is he still a disciple?

As they sit by the campfire, Peter assures Jesus of his devotion.  Jesus gives an instruction: feed my lambs.  Jesus asks the same question again, but this time drops the reference about loving him more than the others love him – no more comparing – do you love me or what?  Peter says yes again.  Once again, Jesus instructs essentially the same thing: tend my sheep.  A third time Jesus asks the same question.  Peter clues in.  The last time he was asked about his relationship to Jesus around a campfire three times in succession things did not go so well.

We don’t generally seek out such moments as this when we are faced to see ourselves in the mirror with such clarifying light.  Peter’s past, present and future all came together in this confluence of confessional symbolism.  His name.  Fire which warms but also sheds light, and also burns.  Love and devotion questioned in light of everything that’s happened.  Who are you?  Who do you choose to be?  Simon son of John or Simon Peter?  The choice was Peter’s to make.  One was to go back to life before Jesus.  One was to be resurrected to being a wholly devoted follower once more.  A choice that would require a stretch.  A stretch for his life in the future.  A stretch of humility in this moment.

We all have the choice to stay put, to even try to go back.  But let’s recognize that it is a choice. We may kid ourselves thinking there isn’t a choice because we haven’t consciously made a choice, but that is a choice in and of itself!  Choose to be Simon son of John if you want.  But if you want to move forward, that’s a choice, too, and the stretch is tough yet incredibly worth it.

To affirm that you love Jesus and are still devoted means you come to grips with where you’ve been and where you are.  This was an accountability moment.  Who have you been?  What have you done?  How are your words of devotion matched up with your behavior?  It’s no accident that Jesus’ instruction to Peter at each affirming was to do something tangible – feed my sheep – and not write another praise song.  Real life change, genuine transformation yields fruit in the form of changed behavior.  How many people shout out deep devotion to God yet have never devoted any time to serving someone else, or for connecting deeply with God, or growing in understanding, or giving financially to the work God is doing in the place you call your home church?  Jesus’ refrain rings again and again: do you love me or what?  Prove it!

This is a literal come to Jesus story, for sure.  You may be glad that you haven’t messed up so badly that you require such a meeting.  Think again.  Not about being a screw up (we all are), but about such a meeting.  In my experience, this kind of hold-a-mirror-to-my-face is pretty normal.  We may not like it at first, but in time, it is a great gift.  When we choose to connect with God on deeper levels that a quick shout-out prayer in the shower or an occasional prayer while stuck in traffic, we can expect the Spirit of God to bring to our attention this kind of stuff.  Questions about who we are, what we’re about, and what it means for moving forward are normal and good.  And essential if we actually want to grow and see a difference in the world.  My hunch is that while Peter may have felt incredibly uncomfortable in that moment, he cherished it, and looked forward to the next visit around the campfire where he could see himself clearly once more.

Are you ready for a campfire talk with God?  What name will God use to get your attention?  How might God craft the love and devotion question for your particular situation?  What instructional invitation might God put in front of you?  These are questions that, with the help of the Spirit, foster in us a quality of life marked by depth and abundance.  The kind of life we all yearn for.  The kind of life that joins God in the effort to move the work of resurrection forward.  Which, of course, is what God has been about since the beginning.

The Worst Resurrection Story

John 21:1-14 might be the worst resurrection story. I know I’m probably not supposed to say that, but I think it’s true. Right before it, you get Jesus breathing the Holy Spirit on his followers, which is a pretty big deal. Right after it, you get this emotional reconciliation with Peter. And sandwiched in between is this:


Later, Jesus himself appeared again to his disciples at the Sea of Tiberias. This is how it happened: 2 Simon Peter, Thomas (called Didymus), Nathanael from Cana in Galilee, Zebedee’s sons, and two other disciples were together. 3 Simon Peter told them, “I’m going fishing.”
They said, “We’ll go with you.” They set out in a boat, but throughout the night they caught nothing. 4 Early in the morning, Jesus stood on the shore, but the disciples didn’t realize it was Jesus.
5 Jesus called to them, “Children, have you caught anything to eat?”
They answered him, “No.”
6 He said, “Cast your net on the right side of the boat and you will find some.”
So they did, and there were so many fish that they couldn’t haul in the net. 7 Then the disciple whom Jesus loved said to Peter, “It’s the Lord!” When Simon Peter heard it was the Lord, he wrapped his coat around himself (for he was naked) and jumped into the water. 8 The other disciples followed in the boat, dragging the net full of fish, for they weren’t far from shore, only about one hundred yards.
9 When they landed, they saw a fire there, with fish on it, and some bread. 10 Jesus said to them, “Bring some of the fish that you’ve just caught.” 11 Simon Peter got up and pulled the net to shore. It was full of large fish, one hundred fifty-three of them. Yet the net hadn’t torn, even with so many fish. 12 Jesus said to them, “Come and have breakfast.” None of the disciples could bring themselves to ask him, “Who are you?” They knew it was the Lord. 13 Jesus came, took the bread, and gave it to them. He did the same with the fish. 14 This was now the third time Jesus appeared to his disciples after he was raised from the dead.


 A fishing trip followed by breakfast. Why would the writer include this? It’s fairly unremarkable, so much so that scholars debate even calling it a miracle. If you’re writing a book about someone’s life, chapter twenty would’ve been a great place to wrap up, but that doesn’t happen, so apparently there’s something worth discovering here about resurrection.
In an attempt to find meaning in this oddly placed text, preachers and scholars have been incredibly judgmental of this fishing trip, suggesting that it somehow represented the disciples’ failure to live into the vision Jesus had for them. But I don’t think we need to judge their fishing adventure so harshly. In reality, they probably just needed to eat. They probably survived off of the generosity of others for the three years of Jesus’ ministry, and there’s a good chance that was drying up. 


So rather than judge it, I think we need to let this story be a little mundane, and see where it takes us. Let’s start at the beginning. John says Jesus “revealed” himself to the disciples (the translation above uses "appeared", but "revealed" is probably more accurate). That term had some background to it. In a lot of Jewish circles, when resurrection was revealed and experienced, it would be a huge deal. In fact, many thought it would be the end of the world. It was supposed to be centered in Jerusalem, and God would bring judgment and justice that finally set things right. It would be an undeniably flashy event that all of creation would see. 
But that’s not how resurrection is revealed here. Instead, resurrection is revealed in the middle of nowhere, to no fanfare, on an early morning fishing trip. Resurrection isn’t what we thought. It’s not always flashy and life-changing. Sometimes it’s slow and barely noticed. It happens in the simple moments of our life, when we choose to orient our life in the direction of love, forgiveness, generosity and hope. Don’t miss all of the small resurrection moments waiting for a big one. Resurrection is available here and now, in every moment of our lives. As George Beasley-Murray said, “"The end of all things had come into history, not as its conclusion, but for its remaking." 


When we read on, we find out even more about this. Jesus reveals himself in some really interesting acts to the disciples that teach us something about resurrection. First, we find that they don’t even recognize him initially. They just think he’s some guy yelling at them with fishing advice. They only recognize him when they catch a ridiculous amount of fish. Again, there’s some context here. There was this common expectation that when the messiah came, life would be more abundant. Check out this quote about the messianic age from around the same time:


The earth will also yield its fruits ten thousand fold. And on one vine will be a thousand branches, and one branch will produce a thousand clusters, and one cluster will produce a thousand grapes, and one grape will produce a cor of wine. And those who are hungry will enjoy themselves, and moreover, see marvels every day…because these are they who have arrived at the consummation of time. – 2 Baruch 29:5-8


Again, Jesus is reorienting their expectations. The messiah is here now. Life is already abundant. There’s no more waiting for a future reality when everything will be better. See life as it was meant to be. 


So now that Jesus has his followers’ attention, they hurry to shore to meet him, and find him again in a strange place: around a fire, cooking for them. Cooking wasn’t exactly a messianic activity. It was, in a sexist culture, reserved for women or their servants. But in this triumphal, messianic moment, Jesus is lowering himself in service, providing them a much needed meal. 
Jesus and resurrection are revealed in service, provision and generosity. If we want to see and experience resurrection today, then we follow suit. Now, this isn’t some begrudging, draining generosity. It comes from a place of abundance. When the disciples roll up and see Jesus has cooked them breakfast, they’re then still asked to give up some of their catch. They’ve labored all night, are starving and exhausted, just hauled in the biggest catch of their lives, and now need to hold it loosely. Give it up. Because there is enough. If resurrection wakes us up to the abundance around us, then it also asks us to give it away, because it was never ours to hold onto in the first place. 


As Americans, we don’t get this very well. We’re individualistic and think we’ve earned everything we have, so it’s our right to keep it. But other cultures don’t think this way. Have you ever heard of the term “Indian giver”? It’s meant to be a slight at Native Americans, but it actually indicts us. In many Native American tribes, there was a tradition of giving a gift when you visited someone. Later, when that person visited someone else, they would pass the gift on to them. Eventually, it would make its way back to the original giver to be passed on again. It was a gift to be enjoyed by everyone, and not possessed by anyone. But when Europeans received a gift like this, they added it to their possessions. Then, when Native Americans expected them to pass it on, they would get angry at them and call them “Indian givers.” It has been suggested that a better term would have been “American taker.” 


This is what Jesus is trying to draw us into: the cycle of giving and receiving that fosters resurrection. But we have a tendency to hold on tightly to our things. Even science is beginning to show how silly this is. Physics is showing us that the universe is not made of up things to be kept, but interactions and relationships to be had. At our core, we aren’t finite matter, but an ongoing pattern of relationships between quirks, molecules and atoms. And the whole universe is this way. 


Physicist Carlo Rovelli explains it this way. We think of life in terms of things and events. A rock is a thing. A kiss is an event. But, with enough time and perspective, we find the even a rock is an occurrence. Over the span of a billion years, a rock appears just to be a collision of sand that sticks together for a “brief” time, just as a kiss is the coming together of two people for a brief time. How silly then to hold on so tightly to our cars, paper bills and collections?

All this to say, Jesus is inviting us into this universal divine dance, that doesn’t see the world as possessions to be had, but relationships to enter into. Relationships we can shape with generosity, service and love. Relationships that can foster resurrection. And this can happen every day, in the seemingly mundane, just as it did 2000 years ago over breakfast.