Walking in Integrity

 

My morning meditations today (August 26, 2019) have prompted me to consider, yearn for and renew my embrace of the simplicity of a fully integrated life and to appreciate how my aspiration to keep focused on Jesus has restored my equilibrium through many wobbles for many years. These reflections took me back to two books that were formative for me as a young adult seeking to walk with Jesus. Dietrich Bonhoeffer’s Christ the Center (written in German in 1933 published in English in 1966) and Mark Link’s He Is the Still Point of the Turning World (1971). I am also reminded of Jesus’ words to Martha in Luke 10:41-42 “You are worried and distracted by many things; there is need of only one thing.”

 

Yes, in my career starting in Christian education and concluding as a pastor, many things competed to worry and distract me from Jesus. These days as my priority is caring for my wife of 50 years, Candy,  on her Alzheimer's journey and supporting her 92 year old father who recently moved from Minnesota to Wisconsin, focusing of Jesus is essential to handling those things with joy. I make no claim of spiritual prowess, only gratitude for the powerful gravity of love that has kept drawing me back to Jesus at the center of everything else.

 

So here are the lines from my meditation and prayer today.

 

Psalm 26:1,11

I have walked in my integrity.

I walk in my integrity.

 

Psalm 56:13

That I may walk before God in the light of life.

 

Psalm 86:11

Teach me your way, O Lord, that I may walk in your truth; give me an undivided heart to revere your name.

 

Psalm 116:7

Return, O my soul, to your rest, for the Lord has dealt bountifully with you.

 

Psalm 146:2

I will sing praises to my God all my life long.

 

Luke 14:11

All who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.

Reading the Apocrypha

Yesterday, August 21, 2019, I finished my front to back read through of the Apocrypha. That affirmed my summary from having previously read scattered pieces. These writing encourage faithful living in times of pressure and persecution of the community of faith. They are examples of singing the Lord’s song in a foreign land (Psalm 137:4). For the most part they were written by and for a Jewish audience in a time of being pressured by pagan overlords to abandon not only their faith but their culture and conform to that of their oppressors, often Greek. Certainly not in some literalistic sense, but used appropriately, they could encourage the followers of Jesus to be faithful in hostile or compromising settings.

I found some of the material to be boring and confusing. I made no effort to keep track of the assorted pagan villains or Jewish traitors and heroes. Nor did I try to identify correlations to general history. Some of the material is brutally and graphically violent and cruel (e.g. Judith, 4 Maccabees). Some of the stories are fascinating and entertaining, even humorous (e.g. Bel and the Dragon). Some speak to modern issues such as sexual harassment and discounting of women (e.g. Susanna). Some reflect the accepted thinking of the time that we would find objectionable today (e.g. The Wisdom of Solomon). As I read 2 Esdras I couldn’t avoid comparing it to Revelation and wonder if and how it might have influenced New Testament apocalyptic thinking. But behind all of these assorted themes, a deep piety and courage of faith shines through.

One recurrent theme is that the eating of pork or meat that had been offered to idols was the test that was frequently presented to oppressed Jews. Based on Acts 10 and 1 Corinthians 8, this might seem to Christians to have been trivial, but it was the sign of switching loyalty to the new culture and empire as well as new religion, forsaking the God of Israel. Perhaps somewhat akin to the early Christians being forced to burn incense to the Roman Emperor. It was a pledge of allegiance to not just a hostile government but to false gods. Where opposition to Christianity is overt and official, the symbols of allegiance may be obvious (e.g. totalitarian regimes of both left and right, some Muslim, Hindu, Buddhist contexts). However where generic Judeo-Christian civil religion masquerades as legitimate faith the symbols of allegiance may be more subtle and perhaps more dangerous.

I read the Apocrypha for my ongoing education, and I am glad I did. I will not get involved in the debates about canonicity or historicity of any of this material. Nor will I sort out theological discussions about questionable doctrines drawn from selected passages. I am neither recommending nor discouraging reading of the Apocrypha by Christians of any stripe. Some things will make you shake your head, and others encourage your discipleship. If you read it, you will become a better informed person and gain some appreciation of the world into which Jesus came and the New Testament was written.

prayer against the Church’s divisions

In my lectio divina this week on the Gospel for Sunday from Luke 12:49-56, I continue to ponder how to interpret the present time in light of Jesus’ strong language about bringing division. I know the Church has known many times of serious division, but we seem to be in a time when virulent division in the society is infecting and fragmenting the Church. Can this be the kind of division Jesus spoke about? Jesus seemed to suggest we should know how to interpret the present time. Yet, I have not discerned any clarity. Then, in my prayers this morning, which I start with an Epistle prayer before moving to the Psalms, I was jolted by this line from the prayer in Romans 15:5. “May the God of steadfastness and encouragement grant you to live in harmony with one another, in accordance with Christ Jesus.” Can I consider that praying such a prayer against the Church’s divisions expresses interpreting the present time?

Love Song?

The apparent hymn of judgment in Isaiah 5 when justice becomes bloodshed and righteousness a cry (v. 7), is introduced as a love song (v. 1) apparently sung by God for the beloved community. Several times Scripture affirms that God chastises in love. Good human parents also seek to discipline their children in love rather than anger. Nevertheless, casting the hymn of the vineyard (also see Psalm 80) as a love song feels incongruous. On my own contemplative journey I have had a sample of intimacy with God as the ultimate lover. So this week I am exploring how God's loving discipline continues to shape me. I am realizing more and more that my prayers are not so much my love song to God as listening for God's love song to me and all who are walking with Jesus.

Weaned Child in God's Lap

For many years I have associated this drawing of Sein with a Child on her Lap by van Gogh (ca. 1882-3) with Psalm 131:2. "I have calmed and quieted my soul, like a weaned child with its mother." For me, the troubled lives of van Gogh and Sein make this all the more poignant.

Psalm 131 concluded my Psalm prayers for today, and I felt prompted to use that line from verse 2 as the anchor for my centering prayer this morning.

I also felt prompted to print out the drawing and use it as an icon (window) through which I could look at God and God's relationship with me.

In my centering prayer I typically interlace my fingers as Sein is doing and rest my hands in my lap, but in the last couple of weeks I have been aware of tension in my fingers when I do that, so have slipped my hands apart and just rested one on the other in my lap. Looking through Sein's fingers, I sensed that God is the one holding onto me. The child is not hanging onto Sein, but has arms wrapped comfortably around her waist. As I looked through the child's arms, I envisioned myself snuggling close to God, confident in God's grasp on me, enabling me to relax and release tension.

As I looked through the child's eyes, I focused my attention on the spiritual reality of God's face, both intense and comfortable. As I looked through Sein's gaze at the child, I received the gentle, loving gaze of God on me. No expectation except to be present to each other.

At Lauds this morning I sang "How Firm a Foundation" and these lines reverberated in my centering prayer. "You who for refuge to Jesus have fled" and "The soul that on Jesus still leans for repose." For those of you who have heard me sing, please don't laugh. I sing a hymn aloud first thing every morning, trusting that God takes joy in the praise and is able to translate the tune into something beautiful.

My Psalm prayers this morning started with Psalm 11, which concludes in verse 7 "The upright shall behold his face." I make no claim of being upright enough to deserve to behold God's face, except by the grace of Christ. However, I do believe I had a glimpse of it in the way my centering prayer, prayer Psalms, and Lauds hymn converged this morning.

Isaiah’s Cry for Justice to Replace Religiosity

Though often attributed to The Talmud, here is the correct citation. Shapiro, Wisdom of the Sages, 41. Paraphrase of Rabbi Rami Shapiro’s interpretive translation of Rabbi Tarfon’s work on the Pirle Avpot 2:30. The text is commentary of Micah 6:8.

The lectionary lesson from the Hebrew Scriptures for Sunday, August 11, 2019, is Isaiah 1:1,10-20. That Isaiah’s pivotal prophecy that came in a time of prosperity and religious fervor opens with such harsh criticism seems tellingly significant to me. As though a crowning insult, verse 10 identifies Judah with Sodom and Gomorrah. Through both Old and New Testaments, Sodom represents the nadir of sin, which continues to be used today to condemn sin in our time and our country.

Reflecting on this passage this week in the wake of recent mass shootings and the contentious political climate has given me pause. In verse 17 Isaiah pleads with Judah to “Learn to do good; seek justice, rescue the oppressed, defend the orphan, plead for the widow.” This seems completely consistent with how Ezekiel 16:49 described the sin of Sodom. “This was the guilt of your sister Sodom: she and her daughters had pride, excess of food, and prosperous ease, but did not aid the poor and needy.”

Isaiah does not set this call for justice against a failure of personal morality or deficient theology but against full-blown community worship and piety. Presented as the word of the Lord, Isaiah railed against multitudes of sacrifices and offerings, called convocations, solemn assemblies, and appointed festivals. “Even though you make many prayers, I will not listen; your hands are full of blood.” (v. 15)

For some time I have been concerned that the divisiveness and hostility in our country’s social and political climate is infecting the Church. I have suggested that unity of the spirit in the bond of peace (Ephesians 4:30) is under siege. http://nstolpepilgrim.blogspot.com/2018/07/under-siege-unity-of-spirit-in-bond-of.html Reflecting on this opening to Isaiah’s prophecy has brought to mind the kinds of things I am aware of being addressed and debated in US church circles today. While there are exceptions to be sure, my impression is that a lot more time and energy are going into things other than justice for the weak. I have difficulty not grouping issues such as debating worship and music styles with the things Isaiah said wearied God.

Please understand, I do believe that theology, worship, and personal morality (including sexuality) matter. But as I consider this from Isaiah, I can’t help but wonder if those are not convenient ways of avoiding the discomfort of addressing the difficult challenges of justice. One of those challenges is that it would put Christians and their congregations at odds with popular opinion and the dominant power brokers and trend setters in our society. Hence my concern that we learn from what the Confessing Church faced in Germany in the 1930s. Yes, they were courageous but not always clear in either perception or response. We may not always be clear either, but I think Isaiah’s call for justice speaks powerfully and pointedly to our own time.

This introduction to the pinnacle of Hebrew prophecy is not some sort of cherry picked exception. It is rooted in the Mosaic Law and is at the core of the entire corpus of the Hebrew prophets, on which Jesus built his teaching and ministry. This is perhaps best summarized by Micah 6:8. “He has told you, O mortal, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?”

Verse 18 has gnawed at my meditations this week. I learned it as a Sunday school memory verse from the King James Version. “Come now, and let us reason together, saith the Lord: though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool.” The application was generally aimed at personal morality: not lying, not stealing, not having sex outside of marriage, but I have no recollection of it being applied to the issues of justice for the weak and poor, which is the context in Isaiah. I will allow that my youthful memory is faulty and I just missed hearing that.

I am also struck that the NRSV translates the first phrase as “Come now, let us argue it out.” This seems a lot stronger to me than “reason together,” though in 1611 it may have had that force. Nevertheless, the image of God arguing with us about the call to justice for the weak and poor is pointedly relevant to our time. Do we not evade God’s call to justice with our churchy arguments about worship, theology, and even personal morality?

I don’t want to get too far afield with this, but based directly on the biblical texts, using Sodom as an argument in the current debates about sexuality, especially homosexuality, misses the point. The sexual part of the Sodom story in Genesis 19 is about violent gang rape to humiliate outsiders. There is plenty of other biblical material to process in the realm of sexual love and righteousness that deserves careful attention from those who advocate any particular position on homosexuality and more. I’m not going to explore that here, but suggest that by using the Sodom story in those debates we are avoiding the emphasis on justice that is clear in Scripture.