Maundy Thursday, 2022 - Do You Understand?

Surely, the Twelve were accustomed to Jesus doing the unexpected. He had always followed his own inner GPS and colored outside the lines. He knowingly and intentionally broke the rules of his religiously shaped culture. He refused to pander to the religious leaders or play political games. It was part of why they followed him. But this time he went too far!!

That evening, without a word of warning, he wrapped a towel around his waist and filled a basin with water. He then went wordlessly from one to the next, unlacing their sandals and gently washing the dust of the day from their dirty, sweaty feet, drying them with the towel tied around his waist. It was the work of a servant — the household slave — not their rabbi!

Washing feet was a part of the cultural expectations of the day. As guests gathered for a dinner party, the host provided this service as part of his welcome. It was a way of transitioning from the journey and the day’s demands into the relaxed fellowship of the dinner party. It was a soothing practice that did more than remove the dust and sweat from the feet. It helped them relax and unwind. The host provided this service to his guests, but he did not do the foot washing himself. It was the work of his servant, his household slave.

A slave occupied one of the lowest positions in the social structure of their society. He or she had no power, no standing, no voice. She had no value outside of the tasks she performed. He was a human machine doing an assigned task for which he had been trained. He (or she) had no personal identity outside the role of a slave.

That night, Jesus took on the role of the household slave — the role of a servant.

It was Peter — dear old Peter — who said out loud what everyone was thinking. “What in the blazes do you think you’re doing? You’re not going wash my feet!”

What Jesus said back to Peter was spot on! “You do not know now what I am doing” (John 13:7). Peter could not understand … and he wasn’t the only one! None of them understood what Jesus was doing. All they knew was it was highly inappropriate and it made them extremely uncomfortable.

The Twelve did not, could not understand what Jesus was doing because they were thinking from the perspective of the ego-centric self with its merit-based thinking. Merit-based thinking, which produces the ego-centric self, is our default way of thinking. It is thinking that is based upon merit. Its language is the language of deserving. In this way of thinking, the ego-centric self ties its sense of identity to how well it measures up to some set of expectations. Its value is tied to its standing in the hierarchy of relationships. That’s why what Jesus was doing was so offensive to them. Their rabbi, their leader — the one at the top of their hierarchal relationship system — was doing the work of one who was at the very bottom of that hierarchy.

“Do you know what I have done to you?” (John 13:12). Obviously, they did. He had washed their feet. And, obviously, they did not. They did not understand.

In washing their feet, Jesus was washing away more than the dirt and sweat. He was washing away the way they thought and, along with it, the sense of identity and value they had constructed based upon that merit-based, measuring-up way of thinking. He was teaching them a new way of thinking and living — one that turned their old way of thinking and living upside down. He was teaching them a new identity — one rooted in their relationship with God and in God’s love, not in how well they measured up or where they stood in the hierarchy, i.e., the ego-centric self. He was teaching them to love.

When Jesus took on the role of the servant that evening, it was not the first time. It was not a role he took on for just that event or that evening. It was his essential nature. Jesus lived out of a servant spirit. He lived out of love (John 13:3). Jesus lived as a servant because self-giving, servant love was and is the nature of God.

What Jesus did that night — washing the feet of his disciples — was to give them an unforgettable image of what it means to be his follower. Being a follower of Jesus is to die to the ego-centric self with its merit-based thinking and living. It is to embrace a new way of thinking and living. It is to claim a new identity, one rooted in the love of God. To be a follower of Jesus is to be a servant. It is to love as Jesus loved.

“I give you a new commandment, that you love one another” (John 13:34). The ego-centric self, rooted in merit-based thinking, cannot genuinely love. All it can do is compare and compete as to how well it is measuring up in comparison to others.

This Maundy Thursday, may we understand what the disciples could not! May we understand the way of the servant.

Palm Sunday, 2022 - A Sermon in Four Part Harmony

 

How do you communicate something the other doesn’t want to hear? Refuses to hear? Can’t hear? 

Such was the challenge Jesus faced as he entered Jerusalem for the Passover celebration. It seemed that no one — not the crowds that flocked to him, especially not the religious leaders who opposed him, not even his disciples — had understood what he had been teaching about God and the Kingdom. Knowing he would be crucified by the end of the week, he planned and implemented four events that would proclaim the truth he knew — four actions that could not be ignored or forgotten. In doing so, he adopted the pattern used by the prophets Jeremiah and Ezekiel. He acted out his sermons. These acted-out sermons embodied the truth he proclaimed but could not, would not be heard.  They provided images that would be remembered and reflected on.

The four acted-out sermons were the royal entry on Sunday (Mark 11), the cleansing of the Temple on Monday (according to Mark 11:12-19) followed by the teaching in the Temple during the week, the washing of the disciples’ feet (John 13), and the reinterpretation of the Passover meal (Mark 14:17-26). Each event proclaimed the same truth from a different perspective — as though in four part harmony. Still today, we remember these four sermons. Hopefully, we reflect on them so that we may hear and embrace the truth they proclaimed.

Jesus’s acted-out sermons reflected his refusal to give up on or abandon those who could not and would not hear. He continued to give to them even as they refused what he had to give. As the gospel of John puts it, “He loved them to the end” (John 13:1). These acted-out sermons offered the possibility that his truth could be heard and embraced sometime in the future.

Jesus’s faithful love, expressed in these four acted-out sermons, raises for me the question, “Why do we not want to hear, why do we refuse to hear the truth Jesus taught about God and the Kingdom?” I find the answer to my question in the gospel of Matthew. Jesus, referencing the prophet Isaiah, explained why he taught in parables — which were another attempt to help people hear what they could not and would not hear.

‘You will indeed listen, but never understand, and you will indeed look, but never perceive. For this people’s heart has grown dull, and their ears are hard of hearing, and they have shut their eyes; so that they might not look with their eyes, and listen with their ears, and understand with their heart and turn— and I would heal them’ (Matthew 13:14-15).

Jesus used parables, as he did the acted-out sermons, in an attempt to get around the resistance to what he taught. The people’s hearts were unresponsive to truth – dull. They could not hear with their ears or see with their eyes. Using the text from Isaiah, Jesus explained the reason for their resistance: “so that they might not look with their eyes, and listen with their ears, and understand with their heart and turn.” They refused to hear because they did not want to change — turn.

Our resistance to truth is part of our resistance to change.

We have built our lives and our identities on what we believe. When something or someone challenges what we believe, it threatens how we live our lives along with our sense of identity — our understanding of who we are. Embracing “the new” as truth disrupts what is — our understanding of life, how we live our lives, our understanding of who we are based on our beliefs.

The ways of the Kingdom that Jesus taught are at odds with the way of thinking in which we were trained. Relationships in the Kingdom are based on grace and forgiveness. Relationships in the world are based upon merit-based thinking. We get what we deserve. We give what we believe the other deserves. In the Kingdom, all are viewed and valued, accepted and embraced as beloved children of God. The merit-based thinking of the world produces hierarchal relationships (better than-less than) and us-them divisions. In the Kingdom, power is used to serve. It is used in life-giving ways that nurtures the other toward emotional-relational-spiritual maturity. The merit-based thinking of the world taught us to use our power in self-serving ways. We were trained to use power against others for our own advantage. The merit-based thinking of the world taught us that our identity was inseparably tied to our achievements and success, to our standing in the hierarchy, and to how we compare to others.

Embracing the truth Jesus taught about God and the Kingdom turns our thinking and our living upside down. It puts us out of step with the society and culture that taught us who we were and how we were supposed to live. The truth Jesus taught produces radical change. It changes how we think and what we value. It changes how we live, including how we use our time and our material wealth. The truth Jesus taught changes who we understand ourselves to be and how we view others.

Change is hard. It requires turning loose of the old and familiar as we embrace that which is new and different. It requires a willingness to learn and grow. It requires thinking that involves unlearning while we are learning to think differently. It requires us to jettison old attitudes and prejudices as the Spirit engrains the servant spirit of Christ in our hearts. Change requires intentionality and effort. It requires maturity reflected in the strength to be out of step with and at odds with those around us. It requires a strength we draw from the Spirit.

As we begin another Holy Week, we again encounter Jesus’s four acted-out parables. They invite us to remember and to reflect. They invite us to learn again the truth Jesus taught in four-part harmony. They invite us to be transformed by the truth he taught. They invite us to change.

 

5th Sunday of Lent, 2022 - Fools for Christ

 "We are fools for Christ” (1 Corinthians 4:10).

Paul experienced what many pastors, including myself, have experienced. He had gotten crossways with some of the people at Corinth. They were at odds with him, criticizing him and resisting his leadership. As a result, the body was divided. Conflict kept the members at odds, not only with Paul, but with one another. Each faction believed they were right and, therefore better than those who believed differently.

Paul wrote what we know as 1 Corinthians to address the issues that had the congregation in turmoil. He addressed the issues by addressing the thinking that fueled them. The conflict was fueled by thinking that Paul called “the wisdom of this age” (1 Corinthians 2:6). This wisdom was at odds with the wisdom of God (1 Corinthians 2:7) which the Spirit teaches (1 Corinthians 2:13).

Paul’s words remind us that every church conflict is fueled by and kept alive by members who live out of the wisdom of the world rather than by the Spirit-guided wisdom of God. The wisdom of the world operates out of a self-serving, me-centered spirit. It runs on anxiety, not knowing how to negotiate the differences that are an inherent part of life and society. The wisdom of the world is us-them thinking. It creates power struggles that lead to winners and losers. It produces conflict that results in division and polarization.

Paul indicated that those in the church who engage in conflict are following the wisdom of the world. They are spiritually immature (1 Corinthians 3:1-4), living out of their innate self-serving nature, i.e., the flesh (1 Corinthians 3:3). They cannot understand the ways of God which the Spirit teaches (1 Corinthians 2:14). The ways of God are foolish in their minds (1 Corinthians 2:14).

In dealing with the Corinthians, Paul refused to engage the ways of the world. He refused to exalt himself as right or as better than them. He refused to give up on them, abandoning them as hopeless. He refused to use his power to attack them. He refused to use his position as an apostle to lord it over them, demanding submission. Rather, he continued to engage them, teaching them and calling them to think with the wisdom of God. He sought to help them, using the conflict as an occasion for learning and growth. He lived out of a servant heart.

In other words, he followed the ways of God that looked foolish if you are trying to win an argument. He choose to be a fool for Christ (1 Corinthians 4:10).

 

4th Sunday of Lent, 2022 - More Foolishness

“Insanity is doing the same thing, over and over again, and expecting a different result.” This quote, attributed to Albert Einstein, lies at the heart of the AA movement. It proclaims the seemingly not-so-obvious truth that if we want a different result, we have to change what we are doing. The problem is we humans don’t like change. We prefer the familiarity of what we know over the uncertainty of the unknown — even when what we know does not work or is not satisfying.

Change involves challenge. It requires thinking and learning. It requires us to adapt in light of our new understanding. Change requires intentionality and the exercise of our will. It involves the imagination that can envision something better and the courage to pursue it. Change requires us to be self-responsible. It requires emotional and spiritual maturity.

It seems we humans prefer the comfort of what is over the challenge of what could be. We deflect any sense of responsibility for what is by blaming someone else for our situation.

Our aversion to change ignores the abilities God gave us to create change — our imagination to envision what could be, our ability to evaluate and draw conclusions, our creativity that allows us to design and plan, our will that allows us to choose and act. God created us with the capacity to make change happen. Our aversion to change denies the image of God that lies at the core of our being.

It seems to me our resistance to change is a spiritual issue. It is a refusal to participate in life as God designed it. God created us with the capacity to grow. Life is essentially a progression through stages of development. As we grow, we leave behind one stage of life to move into a more mature stage in which life is more fulfilling as well as more challenging. The essence of the spiritual journey is putting off the old and putting on the new (Ephesians 4:21-24, Colossians 3:9b-11) by means of learning to think differently. Paul said we are transformed by the renewing of the mind (Romans 12:2). That new way of thinking leads us beyond our conformity to the way the world trained us to think and live (Romans 12:2a). Resisting change is resisting the growth for which we were created and the maturity God desires for us. We could go so far as to say resisting change is Sin.

Change begins with acknowledging what is. It starts with taking an honest look at what is — evaluation and assessment. The willingness to change is fueled by the recognition of a need for change. Until we identity the need for change, we will resist it. The willingness to change is also fueled by a vision of and desire for what could be. When dissatisfaction with what is is coupled with a vision and desire for what could be, change becomes possible.  

The prophets Isaiah and Micah penned a vision of a time when the nations of the world would change (Isaiah 2:1-4; Micah 4:1-4). The nations would turn to Jerusalem, the dwelling place of God, to learn the ways of God.

            Come, let us go up to the mountain of the LORD,

            to the house of the God of Jacob;

            that he may teach us his ways

            and that we may walk in his paths” (Isaiah 2:2).

As they learned the ways of God and put them into practice, they would

            beat their swords into plowshares,

            and their spears into pruning hooks;

            nation shall not lift up sword against nation;

            neither shall they learn war any more” (Isaiah 2:4).

The ways of God would move the nations beyond their innate us-them thinking and their fear of the other. With their thinking shaped by the ways of God, they would move beyond scarcity thinking in which there was not enough for everyone. They would no longer use their power against the other, seeking to destroy them and claiming for themselves what the other possessed. Their resources and energies would no longer be invested in the tools of war. Instead, they would be invested in tools for cultivating and harvesting the earth’s resources.

I have often wondered what prompted the nations to turn to God to learn the ways of God. The answer I keep coming back to is they finally realized that what they were doing wasn’t working. “Hmm. That didn’t work. I don’t think I’ll do that again.”

But, then, we humans don’t like change. We prefer to keep doing the same things over and over because they are familiar and comfortable, even when they don’t work.  

Insanity is doing the same thing, over and over again, and expecting a different result.

I keep longing for and believing in the day Isaiah envisioned — when the nations of the world will turn to God to learn the ways of God, when they will abandon the ways of war, when they will invest their resources, energies, and creativity in producing enough for everyone to have all they need to live without want.

But, then, perhaps my longing and believing is just more foolishness. If it is, it is the foolishness of God. So I guess I’ll just keep on being a fool for Christ (1 Corinthians 4:10). 

3rd Sunday of Lent, 2022 - Foolishness

 “For the message about the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God,” 1 Corinthians 1:18.

Foolishness — that which doesn’t make any sense, that which doesn’t work, that which is so outside the norm that it makes the other laugh or scoff, that which looks and sounds crazy. Only a fool — one without any sense or understanding — would do such a thing.

The ways of God, symbolized by the cross, look like foolishness in the eyes of the world. The cross expresses self-giving love. It portrays the ultimate self-sacrifice for the good of another — the way of the servant. It demonstrates the refusal to use power to harm or destroy the other, even to defend or protect oneself. It displays love for one’s enemy, refusing to exclude, reject, give up on, or abandon anyone. It proclaims forgiveness that extends even to those killing him while they are killing him. In the eyes of the world, the grace the cross represents doesn’t make sense. There is no way it can work. It sounds so ludicrous, no one gives it a chance. It is nothing but foolishness.

While the cross looks like foolishness in the eyes of the world, the cross reflects the foolishness of the world. It is the end result of how the world thinks and operates. The underlying spirit of the world is an anxiety-driven, what’s-in-it-for-me, self-serving spirit. It is a competitive spirit that views the other as a threat — one who will destroy me, one who will take what is mine. Its us-them thinking creates polarization as we only associate with those like us while segregating ourselves from those who are not like us. The world operates out of merit-based thinking that is quick to judge and condemn those who are different from us. The cross is the ultimate expression of how the world uses power — over, down against another for personal benefit at the other’s expense. The anxiety that drives the way the world thinks leads us to use our power to protect ourselves, our identity, our status and standing, and our way of life from those who are different, going so far as to destroy them if necessary. The ways of the world produces the cross.

The ways of the world do not work. The what’s-in-it-for-me spirit pits individuals and groups and nations against one another. Its us-them thinking produces polarization and division, conflict and war. The inherent “I’m right, you’re wrong” mentality allows us to scapegoat those we consider “less than” and underserving. Position and power are exploited for personal gain at the expense of others. Profit is generated on the backs of those who labor. The underlying anxiety that drives the world’s thinking leads to the amassing and hoarding of wealth while multitudes of others suffer want of the basic necessities of life. The world’s way of thinking and operating only works for those who have access to power and wealth.

In the eyes of the world, the cross looks like foolishness. In the eyes of God, the ways of the world look like foolishness.

2nd Sunday of Lent, 2022 - The Foolishness of the Cross

There is perhaps no greater symbol of the Christian faith than the cross. Christians of all stripes identify with the cross. Even non-Christians associate the cross with Jesus and Christianity 

The cross is the primary symbol of our faith. It occupies a prominent place in our sanctuaries. We use it to adorn our homes. We wear it as jewelry and use its image on our clothing. We put it on our vehicles to identify ourselves as Christians.

Throughout Christian history, the cross has pointed to Jesus as a reminder of his death and resurrection. What other symbol captures the heart of the Christian faith as does the cross?

Like much of Jesus’s message, we have domesticated the cross. We have sanitized its image. We have tamed its message. We have made it palatable so that it is easy to swallow.  We forget that, in Jesus’s day, the cross was a scandal. It was a cruel, painful instrument of execution for those who dared to defy the power of Rome or challenge her ways. It produced a slow, excruciatingly painful death. It was a form of torture.

Crucifixions were always done just outside the gates of the city, on a major road entering the city. They were a graphic reminder to all who saw — and you couldn’t not see it — of what Rome would do to any refused to submit to her authority. Crucifixion portrayed complete and utter defeat at the hand of the dominant political power. It was commonly accompanied by public ridicule and abuse that added the proverbial “insult to injury.” It stripped the crucified of any value or dignity or identity other than that of a convicted criminal. It delivered ultimate humiliation and defeat as it inflicted suffering that caused death.  

Paul said the message of the cross, when viewed from the world’s perspective, was foolishness (1 Corinthians 1:18). In a world that valued power, it represented powerlessness. In a world that valued winning, it represented defeat. In a world that operated out of a look-out-for-ole-#1 spirit, it represented failure. The cross stood for everything the world despised and hated. Yet, it proclaimed the power and wisdom of God (1 Corinthians 1:18, 24).

The cross stands as a constant reminder that the ways of the world are at odds with the ways of God. “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways my ways, says the LORD” (Isaiah 55:8). The cross is a reminder that we, as the followers of Jesus, think from a different perspective. It is a reminder that we are called to a different way of living. 

As we walk this Lenten journey, take time to meditate on the cross. Allow it to once again be for you the power and wisdom of God. 

1st Sunday of Lent, 2022 - Temptation

The traditional lesson from the gospels for this first Sunday of Lent is the temptations of Jesus in the wilderness after his baptism. Luke’s account of the temptations is found in Luke 4:1-13. 

Temptation — it is a normal part of our human condition. It is something we all experience. It is something Jesus experienced. Temptation implies choice — the ability to choose between options. In each of the three temptations recorded in the gospel, Jesus is presented with a choice of what to do. Temptation also implies some kind of standard of right and wrong. When we are tempted, we experience the desire to abandon that which we know is right in order to follow that which is viewed as wrong.

This description of temptation implies that overcoming temptation is a matter of willpower. We only “give into” temptation because of a lack of willpower. What we need to resist temptation is greater resolve and more self-effort. I believe this understanding of dealing with temptation is simplistic and wrong. It reflects the thinking of the ego-centric self. More importantly, it ignores the deeper issue of our human condition. It has too much confidence in self-effort.

The reality of our human condition is that we often fail to measure up to the right we know to do. The apostle Paul wrote of this common struggle in his letter to the churches of Rome. “I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate. … I can will what is right, but I cannot do it. For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I do” (Romans 7:15, 18b-19). Paul did not describe his struggle as a lack of resolve or willpower. Rather, he said his struggle pointed to a deeper issue — a sin problem. “Sin dwells in me” (Romans 7:17, 20).

Paul understood sin to be a power that held him captive. “I see in my members another law at war with the law of my mind, making me captive to the law of sin that dwells in my members” (Romans 7:23). “I am a slave to the law of sin” (Romans 7:25). In Paul’s mind, sin was more than the violation of some standard or wrong behavior. Sin was a disease, a virus that infected the soul. Wrong behavior, the inability to do the right things I know to do — sins — are the symptoms of this deeper issue.

Resolve, willpower, self-effort are rendered powerless against both the disease and its symptoms — Sin and sins. Something more is needed — the transforming power of the Spirit of God.

“There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. For the law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus has set you free from the law of sin and of death. For God has done what the law, weakened by the flesh, could not do, by sending his own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh, and to deal with sin, he condemned sin in the flesh so that the just requirement pf the law might be fulfilled in us, who walk not according to the flesh but according to the Spirit” (Romans 8:1-4).

The law, Paul said, could only tell us how to live. It could not give us the ability to do so. Jesus and the Spirit cleanse our hearts of the virus of Sin. Through the power of the Spirit, we are able to do the good we know to do and want to do.

Any experience of temptation is a reminder of our spiritual condition. It is also a reminder of the power that is ours in Christ Jesus through the Spirit. The Spirit and the Spirit’s power are the only way we can “overcome” temptation. Temptation is a call to turn again to the Spirit for the power to do what we cannot do in our own strength.

We see this reality in the temptation experience of Jesus recorded in Luke 4. Jesus was “full of the Spirit” and “led by the Spirit” (Luke 4:1-2) when he was tempted. I believe the Spirit guided Jesus and empowered him as he dealt with his temptations. The Spirit guided him to see beyond what appeared to be a logical idea — use your power to turn stones into bread to satisfy your hunger — to the deeper, underlying issue: how will you use the power God has entrusted to you? The Spirit gave him the clarity about the inseparable tie between the means and the end. The Spirit helped him recognize the devil’s misuse and twisting of scripture. The Spirit gave him his understanding of scripture and guided him in using scripture to respond to the choices he was presented.

The Lenten journey and the disciplines we embrace as we walk it are more than an exercise in willpower and resolve. They are a reminder of our human condition. They are an invitation to, once again, live in glad dependency upon the Spirit for the power to do what we cannot do in our own strength.