Spokane Friends Meeting

Waylaid On the Road to Righteousness.

A Japanese Christian wrote of the experience of his country before and then a precisely 8:16 on the morning of August 6^th, 1945.  In 1941 the Emperor of Japan declared war on the United States and its allies.  At first the war effort made of Japan a bee hive of economic activity.  Next it endured an inferno of unrelenting of bombings.  And then, in a flash of a hundred suns, everything stopped.  He went on to write that an unexpected halt is a religious experience if it occasions a discontinuity between who a person thinks themselves and who they think themselves to be become; a moment of crisis, a moment of truth.

I am indebted to Eric Barreto to see how Luke introduces to us Saul of Tarsus.  When first we hear of him Luke tells us that he was standing guard over the coats of those who  stoned Stephen and not as a merely passive witness. No, he “approved of their killing him”. Saul’s reputation grows to that of the arch-persecutor intent on “ravaging the church … dragging off both men and women,” to prison and even death. Acts, as we know, was written by a Christian for other Christians. That is, Luke’s readers know the story of Saul and how the movie ends! But by introducing him in this way, Luke establishes the dramatic halt and the discontinuity that redirects Saul’s life.  This is foundational how we understand God’s graceful but not always subtle or easy pull on our lives.

Acts 9:1-20

Meanwhile Saul, still breathing threats and murder against the disciples of the Lord, went to the high priest ²and asked him for letters to the synagogues at Damascus, so that if he found any who belonged to the Way, men or women, he might bring them bound to Jerusalem. ³Now as he was going along and approaching Damascus, suddenly a light from heaven flashed around him. ⁴He fell to the ground and heard a voice saying to him, “Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?” ⁵He asked, “Who are you, Lord?” The reply came, “I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting. ⁶But get up and enter the city, and you will be told what you are to do.” ⁷The men who were traveling with him stood speechless because they heard the voice but saw no one. ⁸Saul got up from the ground, and though his eyes were open, he could see nothing; so they led him by the hand and brought him into Damascus.⁹For three days he was without sight, and neither ate nor drank.

¹⁰Now there was a disciple in Damascus named Ananias. The Lord said to him in a vision, “Ananias.” He answered, “Here I am, Lord.” ¹¹The Lord said to him, “Get up and go to the street called Straight, and at the house of Judas look for a man of Tarsus named Saul. At this moment he is praying, ¹²and he has seen in a vision a man named Ananias come in and lay his hands on him so that he might regain his sight.” ¹³But Ananias answered, “Lord, I have heard from many about this man, how much evil he has done to your saints in Jerusalem; ¹⁴and here he has authority from the chief priests to bind all who invoke your name.” ¹⁵But the Lord said to him, “Go, for he is an instrument whom I have chosen to bring my name before Gentiles and kings and before the people of Israel; ¹⁶I myself will show him how much he must suffer for the sake of my name.” ¹⁷So Ananias went and entered the house. He laid his hands on Saul and said, “Brother Saul, the Lord Jesus, who appeared to you on your way here, has sent me so that you may regain your sight and be filled with the Holy Spirit.” ¹⁸And immediately something like scales fell from his eyes, and his sight was restored. Then he got up and was baptized, ¹⁹and after taking some food, he regained his strength. For several days he was with the disciples in Damascus, ²⁰and immediately he began to proclaim Jesus in the synagogues, saying, “He is the Son of God.”

To see this as a simple account of Saul’s conversion is to miss half the story. Saul does not just turn away from a previous way of life; more importantly, he is called, commissioned to walk in a wholly new “Way” like the experience of Isaiah or one of the twelve.  The point is emphasized by the fact that within this story there is another calling.

In Damascus there was a follower of the way named Ananias. Ananias is spoken to by the voice of the Lord and is called to visit a house where the feared man from Tarsus named Saul had taken lodging.   I think it would be fair to characterize Ananias’ response to God’s call on his life as:  “You’ve got to be kidding.  I’ve heard about this man and all the harm he’s done to your people…” The risk of even being in Saul’s presence could be a death sentence!  It reminded me of a photo I saw on Facebook of a chicken walking by a Kentucky Fried Chicken sign.  The caption read “Yeah though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death…” But the Lord is unrelenting and reveals to Ananias in one brief sentence the nature of Saul’s call and the form Paul’s ministry will take in the remaining chapters of Acts. Luke says “He will bring the gospel to kings and Gentiles alike. And he will suffer for the sake of the gospel.”  He also reveals what is central to the gospel. The good news is expansive and broad. It reaches to the widest edges of the world seeking the lost, but God also turns to the powerful of the world and demands justice, grace, and peace. Regardless I can’t help but imagine Ananias praying the 23^rd Psalm as he approached the where Saul was said to be staying.

It will be much later, in Antioch, before the faithful followers are first called “Christians.” Prior to this time the movement was known as followers of “The Way.” “The Way” is a powerful metaphor for the early church and for us. Instead of being identified by a set of beliefs, these faithful communities were known by their character in the world. Christian faith was a way of life and one that impelled individuals and communities to leave the safe confines of home and places of worship to walk on the road God had set out. “The Way” suggests that faith is a living, active way of life.

As Saul travels the 150 miles from Jerusalem toward Damascus he is struck by a heavenly light and addressed by a heavenly voice. This voice belongs to none other than Jesus. What an excellent reminder that Jesus is never absent from our lives. Jesus asks Saul why he has sought to persecute him. Jesus’ instructions to Saul are specific yet ambiguous. Go into the city, and there you will discover what you need to do.

We do not simply “know” about our vocation as we would an itinerary on a travel schedule. Much less do we choose it! Instead vocation is something that happens to us. It is an experience, an uninvited breaking in that upsets all our plans and expectations. There are four things common to God’s call on people’s lives. First, the idea of a call implies an agent outside of ourselves. We do not simply “choose” a course of action, rather we respond to a summons.  Second, the summons is often counter to our idea of what we want to  about. Abraham doubted that God’s covenant with him could be fulfilled. Moses complained that the Israelites, to whom he was sent by God, had never listened to him. Jeremiah not only resisted his call, but continued to complain that God had overpowered him and placed him in an impossibly difficult circumstance, even protesting that God’s call had made him “like a gentle lamb led to the slaughter”. Jonah fled in the opposite direction from Nineveh and Jesus prayed to be delivered from his ‘cup’.

A calling, in almost every case, involves hardships.  Jeremiah, Ezekiel, and Paul all found themselves under threat of death by their community. In Jesus’ case it was carried out. He called others to follow the way of the cross. Paul’s vocation is accompanied by physical ailments, imprisonment, beatings, and exile.  And finally, from the point of view of answering the summons, the greatest danger appears not in willful resistance, but in the possibility of being diverted or distracted from the goal. The last petition in Jesus’ model prayer is an acknowledgement of the power of distraction.  He prayed, “lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.”

Imagine for a moment that this is the week of Saul’s arrival at Damascus. By this time Saul’s reputation as the ringleader of the movement to make Christianity extinct has preceded him. A devout Hellenistic Jew, of the tribe of Benjamin, born in Tarsus of Cilicia, Saul was a member of the Pharisees and was taught by none other than Gamaliel.  But Saul did not agree with his teacher on how “followers of the way” should be treated.  Merely arresting, convicting and punishing those in Jerusalem wouldn’t satisfy; he wanted to rid the earth of this movement and its followers.  As a missionary of righteousness Saul went to other cities where he sought to arrest the followers of Jesus and return them to Jerusalem for punishment. Damascus was only one such city. Word was out that Saul would soon be arriving.

Suppose you were one of those followers of this new path and had just arrived in Damascus, and you had learned the whereabouts of a group of believers.  Prompted by the news that Saul was soon to arrive, with the authorization of the chief priests and the Sanhedrin to arrest and extradite the followers of The Way this Meeting of Friends of Jesus had gathered for a time of prayer.  For what do you imagine they would have prayed at this special prayer meeting?  Do you imagine anyone prayed that this Saul might be converted? I could believe someone might have prayed that Saul be somehow divinely “terminated.” I can imagine that those who gathered to pray would have prayed for the protection of the church in Damascus and for the safety of individuals and the most visible Christians. No one, it would seem, was even thinking of what God was about to do.

And quite likely there would have been another group meeting on the evening before Saul arrived in Damascus—those who did not believe in Jesus as their Messiah, and who eagerly sought the eradication of the church in their city. They may have been compiling a list of suspected followers of the Way.

What a shock Saul’s conversion must have been to both groups! To the church, Saul turned out to be a friend, a fellow-believer, in fact, a flaming evangelist, who proclaimed Christ more clearly and powerfully than anyone had previously done in Damascus. And the second group, who were waiting for Saul to come and help them deal with the followers of “the Way,” were about to discover that Saul had changed sides, perhaps bringing other members of the opposition along with him. Saul’s arrival took the wind out of their sails by his response to God.

Understanding the significance of the call of Christ on one’s life is of great importance. Luke repeats Paul’s story three times in the rest of Acts. It is a story not just of what Christians know about the early days of the church but how this and other stories can enlighten our understanding of how God recruits and directs God’s work in the world. Are we reminded not to exclude our supposed enemies from the work God might do in the world? How might these stories of the call on a dusty road to Damascus or from the safety of a caring community open us to new ministries and challenge people to consider if their zeal for righteousness, like Saul’s, has been misdirected and even destructive. Does it encourage us to expect God to call us to do difficult things and go to unexpected and risky places? As Christ called Saul and Ananias, is there a possibility that you too are resisting that voice in your own life?

Resurrection faith came slow to most of the disciples. But when it did come it changed everything.  They recognized the incredible scope and enormous implications of the biblical witness that when God raised Jesus from the dead God was creating a new reality; overthrowing death, sin, and all that would oppress us; and declaring once and for all that life is more powerful than death and love more enduring that tragedy. The Christian faith isn’t an evidence based practice. It can’t be proven. It can’t be documented or tabulated.

John ‘s Easter Narrative:

Early on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene came to the tomb and saw that the stone had been removed from the tomb. ²So she ran and went to Simon Peter and the other disciple, the one whom Jesus loved, and said to them, “They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we do not know where they have laid  him.” ³Then Peter and the other disciple set out and went toward the tomb. ⁴The two were running together, but the other disciple outran Peter and reached the tomb first. ⁵He bent down to look in and saw the linen wrappings lying there, but he did not go in. ⁶Then Simon Peter came, following him, and went into the tomb. He saw the linen wrappings lying there, ⁷and the cloth that had been on Jesus’ head, not lying with the linen wrappings but rolled up in a place by itself. ⁸Then the other disciple, who reached the tomb first, also went in, and he saw and believed; ⁹for as yet they did not understand the scripture, that he must rise from the dead. ¹⁰Then the disciples returned to their homes.

Luke’s Easter Narrative
But on the first day of the week, at early dawn, they came to the tomb, taking the spices that they had prepared. ²They found the stone rolled away from the tomb, ³but when they went in, they did not find the body. ⁴While they were perplexed about this, suddenly two men in dazzling clothes stood beside them. ⁵The women were terrified and bowed their faces to the ground, but the men said to them, “Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here, but has risen. ⁶Remember how he told you, while he was still in Galilee, ⁷that the Son of Man must be handed over to sinners, and be crucified, and on the third day rise again.” ⁸Then they remembered his words, ⁹and returning from the tomb, they told all this to the eleven and to all the rest. ¹⁰Now it was Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary the mother of James, and the other women with them who told this to the apostles. ¹¹But these words seemed to them an idle tale, and they did not believe them. ¹²But Peter got up and ran to the tomb; stooping and looking in, he saw the linen cloths by themselves; then he went home, amazed at what had happened.

One of the common elements of the resurrection story shared by all the Gospels is that even though Jesus predicted his death and resurrection, several times, no one expects the resurrection. No one greets the news that God has raised Jesus from the grave and defeated death and the devil by saying, “Praise God!” When they hear that their friend and Lord has been raised to life no one shouts “Hallelujah”. Upon hearing the news that death itself could not hold captive the Lord of Glory, absolutely no one says, “I knew it – just like he said!”

No one expects resurrection and no one, quite frankly, believes it, at first. In Luke the women come to the tomb expecting to anoint Jesus’ dead body. That is, they have no expectation that he has been raised. In fact, only when they are reminded by the “two men in dazzling clothes,” do they recall Jesus’ promise.  They run back to tell the rest of the disciples…who greet their tale with utter skepticism. In fact, Luke says that those who received the testimony of the women regarded their message as an “idle tale.” That’s actually a very gentle translation of the Greek work leros. That word, you see, is the root of our word “delirious.” So in short, they thought what the women said was crazy, nuts, utter nonsense.

And, quite frankly, who could blame them? I mean, resurrection isn’t simply a claim that Jesus’ body was resuscitated; it’s the claim that God invaded human history in order to create an entirely new reality. Which, quite frankly, can be frightening.  Someone once said “if the dead don’t stay dead, what can you count on?” Resurrection, seen this way, breaks all the rules, and while most of us will admit that the old rules aren’t perfect – and sometimes are downright awful – at least we know them. In their predictability they are at least comforting. And resurrection upsets all of that.

It throws us off balance, upsets our apple cart, and convulses our neat and orderly lives into irrationality. Which is why I think that if you don’t find resurrection at least a little hard to believe, most likely you aren’t taking it very seriously!

I suspect that most of us have heard the Easter story so often it hardly makes us blink, let alone quake with wonder and surprise. Which is rather sad, when you think about it, because this promise, as difficult as it may be to believe is huge, and when it sinks in and lays hold of you, absolutely everything looks a little different. For those of us who simply accept the resurrection as a piece of our faith but without really thinking about it, I’d like to encourage you to allow the wonder of God’s activity in the resurrection to break in upon you in a new way. Spend some time reflecting on the incredible nature of resurrection. It could provide a powerful experience for you.

But I also want to say that when you think seriously about the resurrection, and you find it a little hard to believe, you are in really good company.  You have that in common with all of Jesus’ closest followers. Which means that maybe we should admit that we in the church have mischaracterized the nature of religious faith. While we may want to leave the impression that perfect faith conquers all doubt, biblical authors believed that faith and doubt are actually woven quite closely together. Doubt, questions, even downright skepticism – these aren’t the opposite of faith, but rather an essential ingredient. Faith, after all, isn’t knowledge and it’s not proof. Faith, as the author to the Letter to the Hebrews reminds us, “is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen” (11:1). And perhaps Easter Sunday is as good a time as any to give God thanks for the gift of faith, the ability not to understand the mystery of the resurrection but to be inspired to hope and believe that it is true.

What makes believing in the resurrection difficult for you? We’ve never experienced anything like it in our lifetime. What about the natural order? We all say that the two givens in life are death and taxes.  What hampers belief for you and me were also the reasons why Jesus’ disciples from that first Easter sunrise have had good reason to wonder and even doubt.  But try asking yourself what would be possible if it were true, like: Death does not have the final word. Love and life are stronger than fear and death. We can expect to see again those we’ve loved and lost. God has a future in store for each and all of us. Anything is possible with God.

I saw something that was new to me in re-reading the Resurrection narratives. In each of the Gospels we learn of a very special place,  the house where Jesus commemorated the Passover with his followers and what we’ve general accepted as the large upper room where Jesus broke bread and shared the fruit of the vine with those gathered.  According to John this is where Jesus washed his disciples feet and voices what we’ve come to know as his high priestly prayer. Tradition tells us that it was to that room to which Jesus followers fled after the crucifixion ‘behind locked doors, for fear of the Jews’.  How fearful they all were.

In John’s Gospel Simon Peter and John were called from the security of that gathering of fearful followers by Mary Magdalene.  In Luke’s version it was Peter who went to the tomb after hearing the report of the women. In both instances after their experience of the empty tomb they did not return to the upper room.  The text says they went to their own homes. There is no mention in the text of Peter or John being among those who remained cloistered out of fear in the upper room.  The resurrected Jesus came and stood among them. He countered their fear by saying – twice- “Peace be with you!”  He empowered with his own Spirit and then commissioned them to go fearlessly into the world with his message of forgiveness.

Resurrection faith came slow to most of the disciples. But when it did come it changed everything.  They recognized the incredible scope and enormous implications of the biblical witness that when God raised Jesus from the dead God was creating a new reality; overthrowing death, sin, and all that would oppress us; and declaring once and for all that life is more powerful than death and love more enduring that tragedy. The Christian faith isn’t an evidence based practice. It can’t be proven. It can’t be documented or tabulated.

After four unsuccessful years of seeking spiritual guidance George Fox received the opening from the Lord that ‘to be bred at Oxford or Cambridge’ was not sufficient to fit a man to be a minister of Christ…,” and he heard a voice which said “There is one, even Christ Jesus, that can speak to thy condition.” And when he heard it he wrote that his ‘heart did leap for joy’.

Nothing can free us from that awful fear that drains the joy out of our lives except our own experience of meeting the living Christ.  As much as we may love and proclaim our belief in this old story it stays that, a much loved story that fails to address our timidity and fear.  It is only the experience of Mary and the women, and the men on the road to Emmaus and that of Peter and John and those emancipated from the fear filled upper room who dared to trust what they had experienced of Jesus that allows us to break out of our fearfulness and carry Jesus’ message of forgiveness into the world.

Celebrate

It was big show biz news this last week — Harrison Ford, Carrie Fisher and Mark Hamill are returning for ‘Star Wars: Episode 7’. In how many of our memories resides the fantastic flight of Luke Skywalker, who with the help of Hans Solo, and without computer assistance releases his proton torpedos so that just before the Death Star can fire its’ planet annilihilating ray it is blown to smithereens and thus freeing the rebel alliance from the domination of the Galactic Empire! That was in Star Wars Episode IV, the first one, which was released in May of 1977.  Remember how at the end of the movie the countless rows of warriors, the triumphant remnant of the brave rebellion force, were standing at attention in a great cathedral like hall while the heroes are honored by the princess and the great celebration that followed?

In 1979 Robert Jewett wrote a piece that said that that scene celebrated a theme that unites popular entertainment and popular religion. He pointed out that in both popular religion and popular entertainment such a grand celebration can occur only after the apocalyptic battle is won.

One of the most enduring images indelibly stamped in the minds of most Christians is Leonardo da Vinci’s “The Last Supper”.  It is a somber and formal painting of six male disciples with various expressions on their faces sitting on either side of Jesus.  In most churches where I have observed the Eucharist being served it is similarly a solemn, somber and to some degree guilt ridden liturgical rite.  What is noticeably missing is the joyous atmosphere of early Christianity which continued the sometimes raucous celebrations of Jesus and his disciples. Jesus’ followers connected God’s kingdom with a feast.  The image of the banquet connects Jesus with the words of the prophet Isaiah.  Isaiah 25:6-8.

6On this mountain the Lord of hosts will make for all peoples a feast of rich food, a feast of well-aged wines, of rich food filled with marrow, of well-aged wines strained clear. 7And he will destroy on this mountain the shroud that is cast over all peoples, the sheet that is spread over all nations; he will swallow up death forever. 8Then the Lord God will wipe away the tears from all faces, and the disgrace of his people he will take away from all the earth, for the Lord has spoken.

In Jesus’ life and ministry the thing that seemed to outraged people the most was that in opposition to the popular religion of his time, and ours, Jesus brought the banquet described by Isaiah wherever he went, most interestingly into the homes of two people on opposite sides of a very divided Israel: Simon the Pharisee and Zacchaeus the tax collector.  As a result he was accused of being a glutton, a drunkard and a friend to tax collectors and sinners.  He was asked why his followers didn’t fast.  For the Pharisees and for John the Baptist fasting was to atone for the sins of Israel that had brought destruction and degradation.  The idea was that if by repenting the wrath of God could be avoided then the messianic age might begin in which God would vanquish their enemies and the fasting could turn to feasting and celebration.  But to celebrate now, before the victory, was presumptuous and subversive.  Jesus’ strategy was simple but profound: celebrate God’s presence now in the messianic banquet, prior to the destruction of evil, and evil will be transformed by the celebration itself.

Jesus said to the Roman soldier in Matthew 8  “Not even in Israel have I found such faith.  I tell you, many will come from east and west and sit at table with Abraham, Isaac and Jacob in the kingdom of heaven.  The enemy peoples from the ends of the earth, previously excluded from eating with the Jews because of legal restrictions and a long tradition of enmity, would be invited to the messianic table.  The messianic banquet was to be a feast of enemies.  The feast is for ‘all peoples’.  The sheet spread over all nations, the shroud cast over all peoples is the wall of nationalism, a barrier to understanding which separates people from neighbors and from God.  Once eliminated communion results around the Messiah’s table.  Given the rich foods and wines prophesied by Isaiah it would make for quite a party.

Look at what Jesus did as told Luke 7.  For what ever reason Jesus accepted the invitation to the home of Simon the Pharisee.  We often miss the point that the story isn’t about the immoral woman who anoints Jesus with precious oil, wetted his feet with her penitential tears and kissed them and dried them with her hair as outrageous a spectacle  as that was.  It is about Simon the Pharisee who had been less than hospitable to Jesus as a guest in his home. Pharisees, to give the Jewish people a sense of God in their daily lives, developed a series of rules to interpret the Torah in the context of changing situations.  They developed a clear cut norm for every situation in life.  But, according to Jesus their many rules and demand for strict adherence to them ruined the spirit of the law.   One rabbinic saying representative of first-century Judaism is: Joy in this world is not perfect; but in the future our joy will be perfect.”  That is, when the Messiah has vanquished his enemies and ours, (which to the Pharisees meant run the Romans out of their country) then unreserved celebration will be possible.  Another statement from the same time is: “ It is joy before God when those who anger Him vanish from the world.”

Look at what Jesus did as told in Luke 19.  He didn’t denounce Zacchaeus or support the Zealot’s campaign of ritual assassination for him and his family.  No.  He invited himself into the rich man’s home for the messianic banquet. Of course the crowd murmured at his accepting this sinner who by collaborating with the Romans he was considered a traitor. The popular approach was to first destroy evil in a military campaign and then plan a victory celebration.  With Zacchaeus, Jesus’ approach enabled a voluntary transformation that military might could never have achieved. Feeling unconditionally accepted and assured a place among the people of God Zacchaeus’ defenses collapsed and he began a life of caring for his previously exploited fellow countrymen.  Jesus’ strategy was simple but profound: celebrate God’s presence now in the messianic banquet, prior to the destruction of evil, and evil will be transformed by the celebration itself.

Instead of stirring up the populace through prophetic demonstrations and apocalyptic proclamations to gain a following as did messianic pretenders, Jesus took a very different approach to calling his disciples.  It was different from the master-pupil relationship preferred by the rabbis. Rather than simply attracting followers from whom brilliant students could be selected as the Pharisee masters did, Jesus chose his disciples.  He called them, one by one.  When you look carefully at who Jesus called to be at the center of his ministry you would be hard put to not see that his intention was to guarantee that the celebration of the messianic banquet would be a genuine feast of enemies.

A more contentious group could be hardly imagined.  Matthew, identified as Levi, was a tax collector and collaborator with the Roman provincial administration; the four fishermen, Peter, Andrew, James and John were of the working class so called ‘people of the land’ viewed by the religious establishment as sinners and by the bureaucrats as troublemakers.  Two were associated with the Zealots, Simon the Canannaean, a technical term for revolutionary and that other one with the strange sounding second name ‘sicarius’ meaning assassin. There was the disciple who came from a family with Hellenistic aspirations that’s why they gave him the Greek surname Philip.  And finally there were Thomas and Thaddaeus both identified with Judas the son of James and Bartholomew, an upstanding middle class figure most likely referred to in John 1:45.

The groups from which these men came hated each other.  The Zealots and the bureaucrats were engaged in a brutal struggle of assassination, purge and ambush.  It is likely that the ‘middle of the roaders’ despised the extremists on both sides.  One thing is certain: people who were representatives of these groups would never have voluntarily joined with one another in common meals or common causes.  They had to be called, impelled, to risk crossing the walls of exclusion.  Their very selection by Jesus bears the distinctive stamp of his idea about how the Isaiah 25 prophecy would be fulfilled.  He wanted a truly inclusive feast bringing together mortal enemies around a single table emblematic of the reconciliation that marks the Kingdom of God.

Celebration brakes down the inhibitions imposed by piety.  Unconditional acceptance was experienced with all its shocking power.  They ate together.  They shared a common purse.  And this unlikely group traveled from town to town in an amazing pilgrimage.  One day they would eat with sinners and outcasts, the next with Pharisees and the next with wealthy members of the political establishment.  They went to weddings feasts and shared simple meals on the hillside.

The real miracle is that even after Jesus’ arrest, trial and crucifixion – before that first Easter sunrise – they had reconvened. A spirit of unconditional acceptance and forgiveness that was greater than all their differences had taken hold of them.  And we are them today.  It is not our similarities that holds us together.  It is not our common pilgrimage.  It is that we each have been chosen by Christ,. called to join in this unmistakable feast of enemies.  Jesus’ strategy is simple but profound: celebrate God’s presence now in the messianic banquet, prior to the destruction of evil, and evil will be transformed by the celebration itself.

Psalm 143

When you take the time to study not so much the reign of David but David himself you come to see how, when it came to family relationships he was an abject failure.  But it is no wonder given what we know of his relationship with his own parents.   Midrash mythology has offered various theories about David’s childhood.  In the text there is no mention at all of his mother and being the youngest and least important son of Jesse’s family the only evidence of any relationship with his father was his ordering David to enter a field of battle to take food to  of his older three brothers.  Most scholars agree that David penned this psalm during a rebellion against him that was fueled by his twisted relationship with his son Absalom.

David had a number of sons, four of whom became conspicuous in the history of Israel, Amnon, Absalom, Adoniah, and of course Solomon. David’s first-born and presumed heir to the throne was Amnon. We are told in 2 Samuel 13 that David also had a beautiful daughter, Tamar, by another of his wives.  Amnon became obsessed with his half sister to the point of being physically ill. Guilefully he convinced the King to have Tamar come to his bedroom ostensibly to feed him in his illness.  He raped her.  Her full brother, David’s son Absalom, was beside himself with rage. And David refused to acknowledge the crime. Absalom smouldered for two years, waiting for his father to do something.  When it came time to shear the sheep, Absalom invited all his brothers to a feast on the frontier.  On a predetermined signal from Absolom his servants slaughtered Amnon. Fearing punishment Absalom fled to his mother’s family in Geshur. For five years David, unable to forgive Absalom, would not see him. Absalom grew to hate his father.

Absalom considered himself heir to the throne given that Amnon, the first born son, was dead.  Secretly he planned an insurrection. With 200 men he launched his revolt in Hebron and the people there joined him.

When word of this reached David he was crushed.  Instead of going on the defensive, with his entire household, servants, and followers, David abandoned the strong hold of Jerusalem.  Mourning, weeping and barefoot, with his mantle drawn over his head he walked up Mount Olivet.  His whole following, hiding their weeping faces, did the same. When David learned that his chief counselor Ahitophel had joined Absalom and gave the rebellion the weight of his name and experience his sorrow and despondency found new depths.

As David continued his retreat from Jerusalem many he thought to be his allies lied to him, street people threw stones and insults at him.  Meanwhile his son Absalom and his growing army were welcomed into Jerusalem.  Of course, if you read further you will learn the rest of the story and how it all turns out — but for now, this is where we find David as he writes this 143^rd psalm.  The enemies who have prevailed against are actually led by his own flesh and blood. And those in whom he had placed his greatest trust, the people for whom he had been champion, had joined ranks against him.  David knew full well that he had been wrong in not having dealt with Amnon’s violation of his Tamar.  He knew that his five year refusal to reconcile with Absalom meant that he had no claim to be found just in God’s sight.  Knowing that he had no worthiness of his own on which to rely he turns to God’s compassion. Now listen to David as he prays.

¹Hear my prayer, O Lord; give ear to my supplications in your faithfulness; answer me in your righteousness.

²Do not enter into judgment with your servant, for no one living is righteous before you.

³For the enemy has pursued me, crushing my life to the ground, making me sit in darkness like those long dead.

⁴Therefore my spirit faints within me; my heart within me is appalled.

⁵I remember the days of old, I think about all your deeds, I meditate on the works of your hands.

⁶I stretch out my hands to you; my soul thirsts for you like a parched land. Selah

⁷Answer me quickly, O Lord; my spirit fails. Do not hide your face from me, or I shall be like those who go down to the Pit.

⁸Let me hear of your steadfast love in the morning, for in you I put my trust. Teach me the way I should go, for to you I lift up my soul.

⁹Save me, O Lord, from my enemies; I have fled to you for refuge.

¹⁰Teach me to do your will, for you are my God. Let your good spirit lead me on a level path.

¹¹For your name’s sake, O Lord, preserve my life. In your righteousness bring me out of trouble.

¹²In your steadfast love cut off my enemies, and destroy all my adversaries, for I am your servant.

Mature spirituality requires a good memory. The prophets of the Old Testament were forever admonishing the people to “remember” the merciful deeds of the Lord. Sacred Scripture became the corporate memory of the Jewish people.  Relying on Scripture gave them the assurance that, despite their feeble day-to-day memories, they would never forget the goodness of God. For them, the story of God’s dealings with Israel, their salvation history, is less a record of what God did and more a portrait of who God is. David’s soul is parched but he remembers God’s promise, spoken through Isaiah, to make parched land flourish and deserts to become like gardens.  He recalls how God is characterized in the story of the Moses receiving the Ten Commandments that we read in Exodus 34:6 “a God of loving-kindness and mercy … extending compassion … forgiving iniquity, transgression and sin.”  It is this God that David remembers in his despondency and it is to this God that David turns.

In the eighth verse of Psalm 143 we find the simple phrase “Let me hear of your steadfast love in the morning,…”  In the Hebrew the Rabbis could see that it could mean several things.  It could simply mean ‘Let me hear of your steadfast love soon’. It could mean “Let me hear of your steadfast love each morning’.  “In the morning could also be translated ‘when the troubles have run their course’.  But best, at least to my mind, was the sense that it is a period of darkness, a night time of the soul, which prepares us to hear of God’s steadfast love.   

David’s prayer is blunt and refreshingly human. “Rescue me,” he prays. Don’t let me fall into the pit of depression; “put an end to my foes,” he pleads, “for I am your servant.”   The psalm actually begins and ends with that idea “I am your servant.”  David believes that one who has the status of God’s faithful servant, one who serves God loyally and devotedly, can expect God to come to his assistance for a master is required to protect his servant.  Knowing his place in his relationship with God, knowing that as a servant he belongs to God apparently gives him the right to ask for God’s protection; to cling to God, and hide within God robes.  The challenge to David is whether he can truly claim such status.  Can we too expect the Lord, like a good big brother, to go out and dispatch the bullies who threaten us?

David acknowledges that: “My misfortune flows from my sin; so forgive me, Lord, and deliver me from this distress”.  It is a simple formula that has never been annulled: we, too, can—in fact we must—turn unashamedly to God and say, ”I am your unworthy servant, O God, but in your goodness save me; save me from my sins and from the malice of my foes.” David wants to do better and he seeks the guidance of God’s Spirit. He prays “Show me the path I should walk” and “Teach me to do your will…”.

This isn’t the first time David prays such a prayer.  You find it as well in Psalm 7 and 24, 25 and others.  Show me the path and teach me to do your will are two different things.  One is to pray for discernment the other is to pray for the willingness to consistently do what we know to do. So with David we too pray: Show me the path I should walk” and “Teach me to do your will….  William Littleboy, a early twentieth century British Friend wrote: “The fact is that … we habitually over-emphasize the place of the emotions in the spiritual life. We speak as if love (in the sense of conscious affection), rapture, overflowing peace were in themselves the essential characteristics of life in Christ rather than the attitude of the soul toward God indicated by the qualities of faith and obedience.  To be a Christian consists not in feeling, but in following; not in ecstasy, but in obedience.”

Dare we pray with David: “Let me hear of your steadfast love in the morning, for in you I put my trust. Teach me the way I should go, for to you I lift up my soul ,… for I am your servant. ?

Psalm 51 is a much loved Psalm.  We especially revere a few specific verses. ¹⁰Create in me a clean heart, O God, and put a new and right spirit within me.  ⁷Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean; wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow. ¹⁷The sacrifice acceptable to God is a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise.

The traditional introduction to this Psalm makes it one of a few with an explicit reference to the context in which it was written.  The opening verse found in the Complete Jewish Bible reads: For the leader. A psalm of David, ² when Natan the prophet came to him after his affair with Bat-Sheva. Understanding this Psalm requires that we are aware of the situation out of which it grew, both David’s folly and Nathan’s obedience.

There was an article in a recent edition of the Spokesman-Review challenging the facts of the capture and release of American  hostages by Iran in 1981 as portrayed in the movie Argo.  This Spokanite had been intimately involved in the situation at the time and felt that the movie did a disservice to the Canadians.  As the movie Argo demonstrates, what claims to be historically accurate is only so from one person’s point of view. History, we come to understand, is, in fact, always someone else’s story told from someone else’s perspective.

In a similar vein historians have weighed in on the recent movie Lincoln.  The screen writers say that what is portrayed is “enormously accurate. “What we’re describing absolutely happened.” A scholarly historian Eric Foner commented on what he felt was the films inadequacy:  “The emancipation of the slaves is a long, complicated, historical process. It’s not the work of one man, no matter how great he was”.

I can’t help but wonder how history will account for the origination and ultimate outcome of across the board reductions in Federal spending now taking place.  There are already debates over where it originated and who should get the credit or blame.

A simple reading would be that David broke the sixth and seventh commandments in committing adultery with Bathsheba and then in trying to cover up that sin by ordering the murder of her husband. I think a more accurate view is that in this incident David broke every one of the ten commandments.  Nathan presents David’s own story to him in a hypothetical way, asking the king’s judgment. The ploy worked and David unwittingly declared his own crimes to be worthy of death.  David left himself nowhere to hide.  He readily admits his guilt and accepts responsibility. We live in more sterile and politically correct times than did the psalmist. Today, eyes would roll if we voiced such a prayer as this that dares tell God what to do. Notice the number of imperatives within the first six lines: “hear my prayer,” “let my cry come,” “do not hide your face,” “turn your ear to me.” But the more striking difference between then and now is not the audacity of the psalmist but his willingness to admit his sin and abandon all excuses. The psalmist begs for mercy, and that requires an admission of sin. Mercy he receives.  He begs to be spared the consequences that flow from all his sins, that would not be so.

Psalm 51

¹Have mercy on me, O God, according to your steadfast love; according to your abundant mercy blot out my transgressions.

²Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin.

³For I know my transgressions, and my sin is ever before me.

⁴Against you, you alone, have I sinned, and done what is evil in your sight, so that you are justified in your sentence and blameless when you pass judgment. ⁵Indeed, I was born guilty, a sinner when my mother conceived me. ⁶You desire truth in the inward being; therefore teach me wisdom in my secret heart.⁷Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean; wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow.⁸Let me hear joy and gladness; let the bones that you have crushed rejoice.

⁹Hide your face from my sins, and blot out all my iniquities.¹⁰Create in me a clean heart, O God, and put a new and right spirit within me.

¹¹Do not cast me away from your presence, and do not take your holy spirit from me. ¹²Restore to me the joy of your salvation, and sustain in me a willing spirit.¹³Then I will teach transgressors your ways, and sinners will return to you.¹⁴Deliver me from bloodshed, O God, O God of my salvation, and my tongue will sing aloud of your deliverance.

¹⁵O Lord, open my lips, and my mouth will declare your praise.

¹⁶For you have no delight in sacrifice; if I were to give a burnt offering, you would not be pleased.¹⁷The sacrifice acceptable to God is a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise. ¹⁸Do good to Zion in your good pleasure; rebuild the walls of Jerusalem, ¹⁹then you will delight in right sacrifices, in burnt offerings and whole burnt offerings; then bulls will be offered on your altar.

We can’t overlook the role Nathan plays.  For Nathan to be obedient to the call on his life to confront his King with a hard truth took a great deal of courage.  The call to “speak truth to power,” referring to the responsibility of challenging leaders by bringing Gospel values to the policy makers and the marketplace is not new.  Being part of the advantaged and entitled majority and having been well represented by the authorities it is painfully difficult to advocate for the those unjustly treated.  Do you see this as part of your Christian responsibility? How might you “speak truth to power” in your life or work?

David’s prayer consists of a number of noteworthy elements, most prominently, perhaps, the emphasis on the theme of “cleansing.”  He begs not merely for forgiveness, that he escape punishment, but also that he be “laundered” and “purified” from his sin. He asks for purification with “hyssop” which refers to the purification process required of a leper before they could enter the Temple.  David recognizes that his misdeed not only renders him worthy of punishment, but also leaves an indelible impression upon his soul; it hampers his ability to reach greater spiritual heights, just as the leper’s condition bars him from entering the Temple.  He calls on God for not only forgiveness, but for purification, for the complete eradication of the sin’s effects from his being so that he can continue his life of sanctity and Godliness.  He prays “Create for me a pure heart, O God, and renew within me a proper spirit.  Do not cast me away from You, and do not take from me Your sacred spirit.”

For me, one of the most disturbing verses of this Psalm reads: ⁴Against you, you alone, have I sinned, and done what is evil in your sight, so that you are justified in your sentence and blameless when you pass judgment.  My problem is that David didn’t just sin against God – he sinned against Bathsheba and her family; against the child of their union, he sinned against Uriah, both in the loss of his life but in taking from him his wife and denying him his rightful progeny.  He sinned against his people, not unlike some of our present day elected officials and representatives of faith communities when they conduct themselves in shameful ways. Sometimes I think David got off easy. It reminds me of how Dietrich Bonhoeffer characterized cheap grace. “Cheap grace is the grace we bestow on ourselves. Cheap grace is the preaching of forgiveness without requiring repentance….

What saves that for me is that toward the end of this Psalm, David proclaims that God is interested less in sacrificial offerings than in sincere, wholehearted repentance: “The offerings of God are a broken spirit, a broken and sorrowful heart – God will not reject”.  This was extremely important to the Jewish community once the Temple was destroyed.  Even in the absence of the Temple sinners can earn atonement and God’s favor through the process of repentance – the one “sacrifice” that the Almighty will never reject.

David understood full well the prominent place he would hold in Jewish history and that everything he did and what happened to him would be carefully studied for generations to come.  He embraces the classic expression of God’s mercy and forgiveness in Exodus 34:6: “A God of loving-kindness and mercy… extending compassion … forgiving iniquity, transgression and sin.”  So, David asks God to accept his repentance and in so doing establish a hopeful precedent for all who follow in the future.

This story reveals a contrast between King Saul and David.  Saul hadn’t succumbed to temptations of the flesh; he stopped trusting God. To guarantee his future he turned to divination and to mediums. As a result God “repented” of choosing Saul as king. Having lost God’s confidence and hearing of his son’s death, Saul despairs and falls on his own sword. David when confronted by God’s prophet Nathan falls to his knees and begs God’s mercy. David illustrates our belief that God will forgive any sin for which we’re truly sorry.

Following the humiliation of Nathan’s revelation David composed this stirring prayer begging the Almighty to forgive his wrong doing. It begins: “Have mercy, God, in accordance with your merciful love.” From the start, David, does two things at once: he admits his sinfulness and chooses to rely on God’s mercy. He doesn’t rely on previous good deeds or on any extenuating circumstances. He is guilty, and he knows only God’s mercy can save him.

Still David’s sin will have far-reaching consequences. One is the death of the child conceived in his liaison with Bathsheba. The nation will also pay for the crimes of their king just as today children often suffer for the sins of their parents, employees for the sins of their bosses, and citizens and members of worshipping communities for the sins of their leaders.
It is said that when he was dying Augustine asked that the Psalms be hung from the wall facing his bed. Famous for his years of flagrant sinning, Augustine sought the comfort of the Psalms as he prepared to meet God face to face. The Psalms ought to give us courage and confidence as we reflect on our own lives and on the struggles, sins, and “enemies” that afflict us. They teach us to plead without restraint, to hold nothing back in begging for God’s mercy. I’m “skin and bones,” the psalmist says or as in Psalm 102 “I am like a desert owl, like an owl among the ruins” whose mournful cry and solitary life make it the very emblem of desolation.  Such talk is not born of arrogance or overconfidence, but from a deep conviction that God is merciful and loves us like a parent.

Wouldn’t it be grand to have such a relationship with God that we’d dare be so bold as David:  to remind God to be more gentle with us in God’s discipline; to remind God of God’s promise to not abandon us in times of distress and to even prevail on God to not take God’s own good time to come to our aid. Continue reading →

As a preface to Paul’s love poem in 1st Corinthians he concludes chapter 12 declaring “I can show you a more excellent way”.  Verse 8 of Psalm 32 says something very similar. “I will instruct you and teach you the way you should go; I will counsel you with my eye upon you”. While the early verses of the Psalm could be described as having the character of a testimonial the remaining verses are instructive and include a great sermon illustration.
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Psalm 6 A Prayer in Time of Trouble

A part of us clings to the naïve notion that God’s love for us is tied to our behavior: good behavior earns God’s love and acceptance; bad behavior means divine rejection. That’s a diabolical lie and the psalmist knows it! Finally, with eyes wide open, David readily admits his sin and begs God’s mercy anyway. Sin darkens human vision and alienates the soul from God, from self, and from others. Sin’s greatest danger is its ability to make us doubt God’s love and willingness to forgive. Continue reading →

Thinking about Ash Wednesday 

Yes, we are dust, but we are earthly dust, springing from a divine creative adventure. Dust is good.  It is the place of fecundity, of moist dark soil. We are frail, but we are also part of this holy adventure reflecting God’s love.  Like Jacob, this event offers us an opportunity to pause, notice, wake up, and discover that “God is in this place” and now we know it! It invites us to take a “beauty break,” to repent, turning around, and see this awe-filled, precarious world in which we live. And that will always embrace our relationships with others, others who should be sharing with us the good things of God’s creation.

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Paul’s discussion about love isn’t sentimental.  But what he says about love sounds a bit lofty, elevated, almost perfect.  And that’s odd because he’s talking to a congregation that was arguing about food, about worship, about, well, everything.  He stops in the middle of his effort to bring order into their anxiety and sense of chaos and writes a poem about love…

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