Contemplative Sauntering - John Muir

 

I am headed for a 3 day silent retreat June 10-12 and find this perspective promising.

Annie Dillard and churches returning to business as usual

 As the pandemic seems to be easing in the US (or at least responses to it), and everyone wants to get back to normal ASAP, I think churches are particularly vulnerable to the danger of returning to business as usual. I have long loved this quote from Annie Dillard and find it powerfully relevant right now, not just with regards to the pandemic but also with how the malignant polarization of US society has infected the churches.

Annie Dillard: “On the whole, I do not find Christians, outside of the catacombs, sufficiently sensible of conditions. Does anyone have the foggiest idea what sort of power we so blithely invoke? Or, as I suspect, does no one believe a word of it? The churches are children playing on the floor with their chemistry sets, mixing up a batch of TNT to kill a Sunday morning. It is madness to wear ladies’ straw hats and velvet hats to church; we should all be wearing crash helmets. Ushers should issue life preservers and signal flares; they should lash us to our pews. For the sleeping god may wake someday and take offense, or the waking god may draw us out to where we can never return. ” Teaching a Stone to Talk

Peace in the Face of Violence

I have observed before that I am thankful that I have not been the pastor for a congregation of God’s people in this past tumultuous year or so. I have great respect and pray for those who are seeking to guide and nurture those in their care with faith, hope, and love.

Violence is certainly not new, but it has received considerable public attention lately, perhaps peaking with the storming of the US Capitol on January 6, 2021. This week that attention has come to a crescendo in the US Senate. So as I began my prayer Psalms this morning, I was stunned and stopped by Psalm 11:5.

“The Lord tests the righteous and the wicked, and his soul hates the lover of violence.”

Oh how much I needed to conclude my prayers by curling up in God’s lap as a small child with its mother, as portrayed in Psalm 131:2.

“I have calmed and quieted my soul, like a weaned child with its mother; my soul is like the weaned child that is with me.”

I have again posted Vincent VanGogh’s drawing of Sien with Child on Her Lap, which for years has served as an icon for me using Psalm 131:2 as the anchor for my centering prayer.

That’s the Way to Go!

Now that I’ve got my lectio divina attention focused on Jesus’ transfiguration, I have been thinking about Moses and Elijah as the ones to meet Jesus on the Mount of Transfiguration. Yes, of course, the Law and the Prophets. As I reflected on this I considered that they both departed this life at God’s direct intervention, perhaps akin in some way to Jesus’ ascension. Then I remembered Enoch who was noted for not dying conventionally. I haven’t proposed any hypothesis about the significance of this. Maybe that will come through the week, or maybe it is just my curiosity and of no great significance.

Genesis 5:24 Enoch walked with God; then he was no more, because God took him.

 Deuteronomy 34:5-6 Then Moses, the servant of the Lord, died there in the land of Moab, at the Lord’s command. He was buried in a valley in the land of Moab, opposite Beth-peor, but no one knows his burial place to this day.

 2 Kings 2:11 As they continued walking and talking, a chariot of fire and horses of fire separated the two of them, and Elijah ascended in a whirlwind into heaven.

 

One Final Request

I wrote this for used by First Christian Church of Midwest City, Oklahoma who I served as interim pastor a few years ago. It will also go in Milwaukee Mennonite Church's Monday Morning Devotionals this Lent.

The two criminals who were executed with Jesus each made one final request. The first said, “Are you not the Messiah? Save yourself and us!” (Luke 23:39) The second asked, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” (Luke 23:42) Jesus seemed to have let the second one’s rebuke stand, and he made this well-known response, “Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in Paradise.” (Luke 23:43)

During Lent we ponder our finitude and mortality, which may prompt us to make an ultimate request of Jesus. Listen for what Jesus tells you as you contemplate his words from the cross. 

Scholars have speculated on where Jesus was and what he was doing between his death on the cross and his resurrection on Easter. From Jesus’ response, some have suggested Jesus may have been in heaven enjoying fellowship with his crucifixion partner. Theologians consider several other possibilities. Instead of sorting that out, consider Jesus’ personal response to your ultimate requests. Jesus undoubtedly spoke in Aramaic, which Luke translated into Greek, which has been translated into English for us. Rather than proving a theological point, consider how a simple change of English punctuation opens a way for us to listen personally to Jesus.

Just move the comma from before “today” to after. What changes if you listen to Jesus’ response to your ultimate request this way? “Truly I tell you today, you will be with me in Paradise.” 

What may Jesus be telling you today in response to your ultimate request? The first criminal mockingly asked Jesus to release them from their excruciating execution, presumably to pick up with life where he left off when he was arrested. The second asked Jesus to remember him when Jesus came into his Kingdom without specifying a schedule. Jesus responded with the immediacy of “Today!” 

The substance of Jesus’ promise was “You will be with me.” As you think through your ultimate request, Jesus promises you will be with him, not delayed for a distant paradise, but you are with him today. He assures you today that you will be with him on your path from today forward. This echoes Psalm 23:4 “Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I fear no evil; for you are with me.” Jesus' ultimate desire is that where he is, “there you may be also.” (John 14:3)

Supreme Humility

 With the new week, I moved one week in the lectionary schedule without realizing that Ash Wednesday was the next week, and this is the last Sunday after Epiphany, Transfiguration Sunday. So I have updated my lectio divina, but I am continuing to benefit from reflecting on the healing of Naaman in 2 Kings 5. I am not at all suggesting that God slipped my brain so I would get this, but having done so, it is a reminder to me to tend to my personal humility.

 Yesterday I observed that the young (nameless in the text) girl who was captured as booty in war and made the slave of the wife of the commander of the army of Aram, was a magnificent example of living out Jesus principle of loving enemies (though, of course, Jesus had not yet spoken those words, but they are embedded in the Torah). In her obscurity, she is also an icon of godly humility, in contrast with Naaman and the kings of Aram and Israel.

 2 Kings 5:1 described Naaman, the commander of the army of the king of Aram, as a great man and mighty warrior in high favor with his master. Even though the guidance to seek healing through the prophet in Samaria came from a lowly source, Naaman and the King of Aram go to the King of Israel rather than the prophet. Arrogant power people thinking they can actually get something by demand and bribe. Of course, the king of Israel knows he cannot effect this healing, but he ignored Elisha, though he was obviously known to the king.

 The text does not say how Elisha knew what had happened and that the king of Israel had torn his clothes. Some have suggested that God revealed this too him, which may be possible, but the text says that Elisha “heard” of it. (v. 8) When Naaman’s entourage, horses and chariots and loot, stop in front of Elisha’s house, he refuses to play to the hubris of the power people but sends his servant out with simple if humiliating instructions. Wash seven times in the Jordan River.

 Naaman is insulted at the suggestion of washing in the Jordan River rather than the great rivers of Damascus. He is insulted not just that Elisha does not come out to greet such an important person, but that he does not perform a dramatic ceremony. He storms off in a huff. It takes humble servants, who with gentle encouragement get him to give it a “why not?” try. This is not an act of faith, yet it is effective.

 Maybe more incredulous than insulted when Elisha refused the grand reward in person. Now Naaman professes allegiance, if not what we would call faith, to the God of Israel. Takes a load of Israel dirt back to Damascus so he can worship the God of Israel on Israel soil. Elisha does not instruct him that this superstition is not necessary and even gives permission for him to bow when with the king of Aram worshipping their god Rimmon. Any trace of either Aram or Israel exceptionalism is dismissed.

 In much the same vein, the text (v. 1) indicates that the Lord gave Aram victory over Israel through Naaman. So viewed from God’s perspective, even the highest claims for power and pride are signs of the reality of humility.

 Not that it is all that unusual, but in recent months we have seen a lot of pride and power strutting on the public stage. And even those of us who eschew it are susceptible to the subtle pride of thinking we can exempt ourselves. So as my lectio divina this week moves on from a mental slip, I am instructed to be alert to slipping into the reverse arrogance of rejecting it in others while missing it in myself.

 

 

Servant Girl “Spoils of War”

 

I am just starting my week of lectio divina on the story of Elisha’s healing of Naaman in 2 Kings 5:1-14. (The whole story goes for the whole chapter.) Today my attention was riveted on the young girl captured when Aram raided Israel. Her age isn’t specified, but I am guessing pre-puberty or she would have been considered a young woman and perhaps sexually available to Naaman. (The text makes no mention of that, but sex trafficking as a part of war is hardly new.)

 The first thing that strikes me is how empathetic she was to Naaman and how comfortable she felt talking to his wife. After all, she was their slave, at best. Besides, she was far from home. Yet, she expressed concern for Naaman’s health. I am thinking she is a role model for loving enemies as Jesus taught. (Matthew 5:44; Luke 6:27,35)

 The second thing that caught my attention is that despite being young and female, she was very aware of the prophet in Samaria. As the story unfolds, he is identified as Elisha. She had great confidence that he had the God-given power to heal Naaman, and a confidence that with the opportunity, he would do it. Apparently she believed Elisha also practiced the ethic of loving enemies.

 And thirdly, she was convincing enough that Naaman’s wife told him, who told the king of Aram, who gave it enough credibility to send a letter and large bribe to the King of Israel. No surprise that one power person would appeal to another power person and miss entirely the real power of humility of both the servant girl and Elisha (who didn’t even come out to see Naaman). I think I’ll wait for at least another day before reflecting on the centrality of humility in this story.