Next Sunday (November 24, 2019) is Christ the King Sunday
for those following the liturgical calendar. It is something of a seam in the
rhythm of the year – culminating one year’s passage and engendering the
longings of Advent. The reading from the Hebrew Scriptures this year is
Jeremiah 23:1-6. I am just starting to soak in this passage, but verse 6 struck
a chord in my heart. I know this came as a word of encouragement in the context
of Judah’s distress in Exile. I know that the righteous branch of David carries
Messianic significance. Either way, this does not refer specifically to any
transitory political or government leader of the US or any other country. Nevertheless,
speaking for myself as one who aspires to follow Jesus, I feel a deep longing
in my soul to be led by those who deal wisely and execute justice and
righteousness. And when I got to oratio in my lectio divina this morning, my
prayer became an enormous lament for how far away my own country is from
wisdom, justice, and righteousness.
Please don’t diminish that to any of the current lightening rod political
issues of the moment, nor dismiss it by relegating it to what is impossible
until Jesus returns. Juxtaposed with the Gospel for Christ the King Sunday in
Luke 23:33-43 that connects Jesus’ crucifixion with his identity as “King of
the Jews,” (certainly posted on his cross as Roman mockery not just of Jesus
but the Jewish people), I expect my lament to grow increasingly profound as the
week progresses. By the time Advent comes, I expect I will already be crying “Come,
O Come, Emmanuel!”
By faith Abraham obeyed when he was called to set out for a place that he was to receive as an inheritance; and he set out, not knowing where he was going. By faith he stayed for a time in the land he had been promised, as in a foreign land, living in tents, as did Isaac and Jacob, who were heirs with him of the same promise. For he looked forward to the city that has foundations, whose architect and builder is God. Hebrews 11:8-10 NRSV
Monday, November 18, 2019
Friday, November 15, 2019
Majestic Ride for Truth and Right
Psalm 45
celebrates the marriage of an archetypical ancient Hebrew king. The imagery
goes well beyond David or Solomon. It is addressed in the second person (you)
to the king, and the language interweaves the king and God seamlessly. Seen
through New Testament eyes, it takes on Messianic significance, and may be
construed as pointing to the ecstatic love between Christ and the Church as the
bride at the Wedding Supper of the Lamb.
Now, I am not
interested in sorting out all of the possibilities and pitfalls of interpreting
this Psalm, but as I let it prompt my prayers this morning against the backdrop
of the current proceedings in Washington, a couple of lines caught my
attention. First, verse 7 asserts that this king’s “royal scepter is a scepter
of equity” in the hand of one who “loves righteousness and hates wickedness.” I
am certainly do not expect, nor do I think it would be healthy, that people in
the US government be my brand (or any) of Christian. But as I prayed this
morning, this line prompted me to pray that people in positions of public
leadership would have integrity, authenticity, transparency as they advocate
for all people (especially the weak, poor, struggling, and marginalized) to
receive justice, peace, prosperity, and compassion. Regardless of political
philosophy, I also pray for those who serve in government (elected, appointed,
or hired staff) to be competent. As I discussed this with God this morning, I
found my prayer becoming a lament.
With the daily details
emerging from the proceedings in Washington, I was originally drawn to verse 4.
“In your majesty ride on victoriously for the cause of truth and to defend the
right.” I do not believe this Psalm celebrates anything and everything done by
anyone in a position similar to an ancient Hebrew king. Rather, clear promotion
and protection of truth and right are what can legitimately be celebrated. So
this morning I told God (I know that sounds presumptuous) that regardless of
political posturing, I want to see truth and right emerge from the current
proceedings in Washington.
Still praying
my lament, I moved on to Psalm 75 and was jolted by verses 7-8. I conclude by
letting them stand on their own. “It is God who executes judgment, putting down
one and lifting up another. For in the hand of the Lord there is a
cup with foaming wine, well mixed; he will pour a draught from it, and all the
wicked of the earth shall drain it down to the dregs.”
Tuesday, November 5, 2019
To God All of Them are Alive
As I have begun
my lectio divina on Jesus’ answer to
the Sadducees about the resurrection in Luke 20:27-39, I have noticed contrasts
with the versions in Matthew 22:23-33 and Mark 12:18-27 that have prompted my
contemplation of the deep mystery of God’s self-revelation and the hope of
resurrection. Other things in Haggai 2:1-9 and 2 Thessalonians 2:1-12 are also
stirring in my soul. This looks to be a week of rich, if unsettling, pondering.
Luke recorded only Jesus’ answer to the
Sadducees and omitted his rebuke. Matthew wrote, “You are wrong, because you
know neither the scriptures nor the power of God.” (v. 29) Mark recorded
it this way, “Is not this the reason you are wrong, that you know neither the
scriptures nor the power of God? … You are quite wrong.” (vv. 24,27) Matthew framed it
as a statement; Mark as a question; and Luke omitted it. I am not interested in
attempting to harmonize an apparent discrepancy nor reconstruct Jesus’ actual
words (not English; they were almost certainly spoken in Aramaic and translated
into Greek by Matthew, Mark, and Luke. Rather, I am searching my own soul for
how well I know the scriptures and power of God. I am not talking about knowing
the content of scripture and its proper interpretation (such as the Spanish
word saber) but of intimate knowledge
(such as the use of “know” to mean sexual intercourse in the Hebrew Scriptures
or the Spanish word conocer).
After reflecting on this, I came to my prayer
from the New Testament Epistles for today in Ephesians 1:15-23 with its prayer
to know the immeasurable greatness of God’s power put to work by raising Christ
from the dead. (vv. 19-20). My prayer took the form of opening up to God my
growing relinquishment of specific literalistic images of the widely varied metaphors
in scripture for the resurrection on the last day and what to expect in the
transition from this life to the next.
That brought me back to Luke’s unique
rendition of Jesus’ conclusion of his answer to the Sadducees. Matthew (v. 32) and
Mark (v. 27) use the familiar, God “is not God of the dead, but of the living.”
But Luke’s version (v. 38) prompted me to reflect even more deeply on what it
may mean for those who have gone before us, as we will all go, to be alive to God.
“Now he is God not of the dead, but of the living; for to him all of them are
alive.” This took me to the line from the funeral liturgy prayer of
confession. “We forget that all life comes from you and that to you all life
returns.” Does this imply something outside of the familiar boundaries of time,
not just an endless extension of time? Does this imply our/my existence is
intrinsic to God's being in much more than a perfunctory "of course?” Oh
the limitations of human language!
I have long been and continue to be one
who affirms “the resurrection to eternal life” rather than the pagan, dualistic
denial of the goodness of God’s material creation implied in “the immortality
of the soul.” We are not bodies who have souls, nor are we souls who are
trapped in bodies. The hope of the resurrection affirms our human wholeness (body
and soul if you will, though that language betrays dualism more akin to Greek
philosophy than biblical witness).
With the highly individualistic culture
in the West, perhaps most virulent in the US, we crave individual, personal
awareness in the life to come. Though they are few, some such as Jesus’ answer
here that cites Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, suggest our personal identity
persists and we are not simply absorbed into the cosmos. (The conjuring of Samuel
in 1 Samuel 28:12-20 and the story of Lazarus in Luke 16:22-31 would seem to
hint at this.) Yet the images of the last day are not individually welcoming
embraces from Jesus, as popular as current art and song imagine, but as vast
multitudes gathered for the marriage supper of the Lamb from every tribe and
tongue and nation in communal praise. I am not expecting this week’s lectio divina to sort out into some
definitive resolution of the literal expectation for the resurrection on the
last day. More and more I am convinced pursuing that leads us astray from a
proper perspective on the resurrection. Rather I am hoping my meditations will enrich
probing the profundity of this mystery. I confess some discomfort and perplexity.
At the same time, I am praying to know the immeasurable greatness of God’s
power put to work by raising Christ from the dead.
Another interesting contrast in the three versions of Jesus' answer to the Sadducees about the resurrection is the reaction to Jesus. Matthew 22:33 reports that the crowds were astounded. Luke 20:39-40 reports that some of the scribes said that Jesus had "spoken well". I expect those were those who disagreed with the Sadducees about the resurrection already, but then Luke added that "they no longer dared to ask him another question." So Matthew reported the crowd; Luke reported the scribes; and Mark reported no reaction.
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