A Certain Man

“Now a certain man was ill. . .” Isn’t that a fascinating way to start the story???

A certain man? Just some guy.

A college professor of mine suggested that Lazarus was the “beloved disciple” of the Gospel of John. That sorta makes sense to me. At least I’ve always liked that suggestion (I doubt there’s ever any “making sense” of the Gospel of John.)

And so I suspect that John is setting us up here with that “certain man” stuff. 

This is the Beloved Disciple who is ill - sick unto death - and there will be conversation, there will be tears, and there will be resurrection (or at least a great foreshadowing of resurrection.) There will be the gifting of life, which will give rise to Jesus’ death. 

The Beloved Disciple. I think that - in the end - the Beloved Disciple is not to be determined as one or another guy. I think that the hearer - you and each person who hears the proclamation of these stories - is to see him or herself as the Beloved Disciple.

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Three years ago, I preached on this text, and after worship, some members of our congregation joined with others in the community, to search for a beloved member of our Church who, in his dementia, had driven his car down a wrong road, gotten stuck in snow, and wandered off. It had been a few days, and the weather had been such that there was very little hope that we would find him alive. 

With the reality of death so close at hand, with such a sad loss in all its stark . . . death-ness . . . the story of Lazarus rang out.

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I don’t know where I got this, but I preached it in a sermon, so it must be true. Lazarus might well mean “God Has Helped”

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The Beloved Disciple.

YOU beloved by God.

You - who have known the entombment of your hopes, your dreams, your loves. 

You, who have been helped by God. 

You. Hear that call.

“Lazarus come out!”

You are the beloved disciple whom God calls out of death and into life. Whom God forgives and calls and sends. 

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Our friends body was found later that day. It was terribly sad, and we had a very nice funeral. 

And, I believe, that wasn't the last word for him.

The One Campaign

No, I am not preaching on Sunday.
And, yes, I am gloating about that.
I think, that if I were proclaiming this text, I'd focus on that wonderful line
"One thing I do know. . . "

Who's Thirsty?

Woman at the Well - 

I wonder if that sort of title doesn’t cause us to miss the actual story. 

Simply writing that causes me to have to look at the story again. 

The longest conversation in the Gospels, there is much here, isn’t there. At the Festival of Homiletics 3 years ago, Tom Long preached on this text.

He did a nice thing - first asking if, when Jesus asked her to give him a drink - if he was asking a trick question. “Many of the commentators think that it was.” he says a number of times, a number of ways.

As he works through - he suggests that it is no trick question, but, instead, is Chrsit’s request for care - for his thirst - and the needs of the least and the lost in our world.

Finally - he reflects on how water figures prominently in the Gospel of John - with water of life gushing from Jesus’ side in the crucifiction.

One more thing. 

David Lose seems to be moving toward Martin Marty status, with so much published, one wonders if most every thought that occurs to him makes it to print.

On Huffpo - he has a column reflecting on Sunday’s text, and I liked it better than his piece on workingpreacher. It is titled “Misogyny, Moralism & the Woman at the Well” and it is a good read. 

He concludes with these paragraphs:

A second reason preachers cast this woman in the role of prostitute is that it plays into the belief that Christianity, and religion generally, is chiefly about morality. Treating the Bible as one long, if peculiar, Goofus and Gallant cartoon, we read every story we find in terms of sin and forgiveness, moral depravity and repentance. But this story is not about immorality; it's about identity. In the previous scene, Jesus was encountered by a male Jewish religious authority who could not comprehend who or what Jesus was. In this scene, he encounters the polar opposite, and perhaps precisely because she is at the other end of the power spectrum, she recognizes not just who Jesus is but what he offers - dignity. Jesus invites her to not be defined by her circumstances and offers her an identity that lifts her above her tragedy. And she accepts, playing a unique role in Jesus' ministry as she is the first character in John's gospel to seek out others to tell them about Jesus.

If preachers can rise above the misogyny and moralism that characterizes too much Christian theology, they have the opportunity to tell this woman's story for what it is: a story of the transforming power of love and the capacity to receive and live into a new identity. By doing so, preachers won't just be talking about this woman any more, they'll also be talking to and about us. And that's a sermon I, for one, would like to hear.

 Heck, that's a sermon I'd like to preach. Perhaps engaging in a conversation with this One, we might find our own identity transformed. Might be a good first step in proclaiming that sermon David would like to hear.

How God Will Be Known

John 3

hmmmmmm

I am not sure what to do with John chapter 3 (or pretty much anything in this Gospel), but as I consider it, I think of this line by Douglas John Hall in The Cross in Our Context (a great read in the theology of the cross, "the thin tradition.") 

Faith, if it is faith in the God reveled in "Jesus Christ and him crucified," is a journey toward the world; if it is said that such a definition confuses God with God's creation, confuses theocentrism with geocentrism, one must answer, as a Christian, that that confusion seems to have been introduced by God himself, who will be loved only as one who loves the world (John 3:16)." pg 55

Not Ideal

Matthew 4:1-11

After Jesus was baptized, he was led up by the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted by the devil. He fasted forty days and forty nights, and afterwards he was famished. The tempter came and said to him, "If you are the Son of God, command these stones to become loaves of bread." But he answered, "It is written, ‘One does not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God.’"

Then the devil took him to the holy city and placed him on the pinnacle of the temple, saying to him, "If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down; for it is written, ‘He will command his angels concerning you,’ and ‘On their hands they will bear you up, so that you will not dash your foot against a stone.’" Jesus said to him, "Again it is written, ‘Do not put the Lord your God to the test.’"

Again, the devil took him to a very high mountain and showed him all the kingdoms of the world and their splendor; and he said to him, "All these I will give you, if you will fall down and worship me." Jesus said to him, "Away with you, Satan! for it is written, ‘Worship the Lord your God, and serve only him.’"

Then the devil left him, and suddenly angels came and waited on him.

Early in our marriage - seeing that many families waste a lot of time trying to decide who is to blame for this or that problem, I said to my beloved: “Let’s not do that. Let’s not argue over who to blame. Let’s not waste time trying to decide who is at fault for things. Let’s just blame you.” 

This has worked out well for me.

I was trying to read a piece with a promising title for this Sunday. Tempting Fate. Looks good. Too long.

Goes off for some time on the blaming of Eve - Paul leaving Eve out of the equation; which she suggests Eve might not mind. . . 

Probably. But can Adam handle it?

I always say that one thing about the temptations of Jesus in the desert is that they don’t seem that tempting. Was the Devil really going all out?

I have been looking at David Lose’s book - Making Sense of the Christian Faith - our class will meet at noon on Wednesdays during Lent, drop in if you are in the neighborhood - and I really like his take on “original insecurity.” 

He does a riff on this in his Dear Working Preacher piece this week. 

That the original sin flows out of a sense that one is incomplete, that one needs more than they have, that all questions must be settled that all must feel just so. This, is inviting to me. Understanding the core sin of human being as idolatry - we see that our idol might well be an image of a “perfect life.” Where all questions are answered, where everything is settled, and where we have absolutely no sense of needing ANYTHING. 

Lose quotes a line I’ve never seen by Luther (without telling us where Luther said or wrote it, but I’m not complaining) “Martin Luther. . . once said he thought “ideals were from the devil.”” (Making Sense of the Xian Faith - page 70)

It’s tempting to go from here with a sermon on this text.

Ash Wednesday - Already?

I’m not really one who reads and understands poetry. My appreciation of poetry is more like some beautiful sight you drive by regularly - and on rare occasions look over and notice. 
So I wonder, why Ash Wednesday is a day I do stop and look for a good bit of poetry for this day? 

Hmmmm

I found a “Lectionary Haikus” page. Not as funny as I hoped! One good thing about it, was that it didn't inspire me to try to write my own haikus. I can see that if I got started writing Ash Wednesday haikus - it would be, to quote Wormtongue from Lord of the Rings, an ill wind that blew no good.

On the non-poetry front - while still using words wonderfully BBT has a nice pice from Xian Century - 1996 titled: “Remaining Human”

here’s a few good lines

In many churches, Lent begins with a sooty forehead, as believers kneel for the Ash Wednesday reminder that we  are dust, and to dust we shall return. It is not meant to depress or frighten us, but simply to remind us who we are: human beings, mortals, not God. 

The second story has a different ending. It starts out very scary, with Jesus and the devil engaged in a verbal duel and the devil quoting scripture like a preacher. (Let that be a lesson to all of us: just because someone knows the Bible "chapter and verse" does not mean that person is up to any good.) 

These days we seem to believe that crossing over the line [that is, sin] is about doing things that make us less than admirable human beings. Lent comes along and we give up things that are bad for us or take on things that are good for us, as if the most serious temptations in life were to drink too much scotch or eat too much fat or stay in bed on Sunday morning. But I do not think that is what these stories are about. I do not think they are about the temptation not to be a good human being. I think they are about the temptation not to be a human being at all. 

As far as I can tell, what Adam and Jesus are both tempted by is the chance to play God. In Adam's case, it was the chance to break out of his dependence on God and know both good and evil for himself. In Jesus' case, it was the chance to feed every hunger, to be superman, to control all the kingdoms of the earth. God never offers those things, incidentally — Satan is the only one who offers them, with a thousand strings attached.  

And an Ash Wednesday poem for you. 

(you don’t have to understand it - I sure don’t)

Marked by Ashes - Walter Brueggemann

Ruler of the Night, Guarantor of the day . . .

This day — a gift from you.

This day — like none other you have ever given, or we have ever received.

This Wednesday dazzles us with gift and newness and possibility.

This Wednesday burdens us with the tasks of the day, for we are already halfway home

     halfway back to committees and memos,

     halfway back to calls and appointments,

     halfway on to next Sunday,

     halfway back, half frazzled, half expectant,

     half turned toward you, half rather not.

This Wednesday is a long way from Ash Wednesday,

   but all our Wednesdays are marked by ashes —

     we begin this day with that taste of ash in our mouth:

       of failed hope and broken promises,

       of forgotten children and frightened women,

     we ourselves are ashes to ashes, dust to dust;

     we can taste our mortality as we roll the ash around on our tongues.

We are able to ponder our ashness with

   some confidence, only because our every Wednesday of ashes

   anticipates your Easter victory over that dry, flaky taste of death.

On this Wednesday, we submit our ashen way to you —

   you Easter parade of newness.

   Before the sun sets, take our Wednesday and Easter us,

     Easter us to joy and energy and courage and freedom;

     Easter us that we may be fearless for your truth.

   Come here and Easter our Wednesday with

     mercy and justice and peace and generosity.

We pray as we wait for the Risen One who comes soon.

What's The Meaning of All of This?

TRANSFIGURATION

The Working Preacher sermon brainwave podcast was pretty dang good this week. Willimon sat in with the usual suspects. Good banter. Some great insights. Willimon made the nice point - that - in some ways - to ask what this story “means” is the wrong question. 

I am struck by the fact that so often this text gets read as “you can’t stay up on the mountain” sort of deal. But, interestingly, the experience on the mountain is not all that clear. What the heck does it mean? 

Nobody knows. . . 

It is - however - sorta cool - sorta odd.

I’ve preached a variation of “can’t stay up on the mountain top. It is that Jesus makes all of life holy - all of life lived in the presence and wonder of God and God’s life giving grace.

I think of the song by Peter Mayer - Holy Now

you can listen on youtube.

HOLY NOW by Peter Mayer

(there’s this really nice jazz version by some funky singer. . .)

The song opens with this verse

When I was a boy each week 

On Sunday we would go to church

And pay attention to the priest 

He would read the holy word

And consecrate the holy bread 

And everyone would kneel and bow

Today the only difference is 

Everything is holy now

Everything, Everything, Everything is holy now

Indeed, everything is holy. (Except for all the evil things that aren’t holy, I guess...)