Author: Robert Cornwall

Judgment Day — Lectionary Reflection for Pentecost 6C (Amos 8)

Amos8:1-12 New Revised Standard Version (NRSV)
 
8 This is what the Lord God showed me—a basket of summer fruit. 2 He said, “Amos, what do you see?” And I said, “A basket of summer fruit.” Then the Lord said to me,
“The end has come upon my people Israel;
I will never again pass them by.
3 The songs of the temple shall become wailings in that day,”
says the Lord God;
“the dead bodies shall be many,
cast out in every place. Be silent!”
4 Hear this, you that trample on the needy,
and bring to ruin the poor of the land,
5 saying, “When will the new moon be over
so that we may sell grain;
and the sabbath,
so that we may offer wheat for sale?
We will make the ephah small and the shekel great,
and practice deceit with false balances,
6 buying the poor for silver
and the needy for a pair of sandals,
and selling the sweepings of the wheat.”
7 The Lord has sworn by the pride of Jacob:
Surely I will never forget any of their deeds.
8 Shall not the land tremble on this account,
and everyone mourn who lives in it,
and all of it rise like the Nile,
and be tossed about and sink again, like the Nile of Egypt?
9 On that day, says the Lord God,
I will make the sun go down at noon,
and darken the earth in broad daylight.
10 I will turn your feasts into mourning,
and all your songs into lamentation;
I will bring sackcloth on all loins,
and baldness on every head;
I will make it like the mourning for an only son,
and the end of it like a bitter day.
11 The time is surely coming, says the Lord God,
when I will send a famine on the land;
not a famine of bread, or a thirst for water,
but of hearing the words of the Lord.
12 They shall wander from sea to sea,
and from north to east;
they shall run to and fro, seeking the word of the Lord,
but they shall not find it.
 
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            There are men, women, and children held in cages at the southern border. Many are refugees fleeing violence in their homelands. The polls suggest that a majority of white Protestants do not believe that the United States has any responsibility for refugees. What might Scripture say to this polling? What might the prophet Amos have to say to us who claim to be servants of God? The first reading for the sixth Sunday after Pentecost takes us back to Amos. In the previous reflection, I examined Amos’ encounter with the religious establishment in the northern kingdom of Israel as revealed in Amos 7. He was told by the priest to go back home and take care of things there. You see, Amos came from the southern kingdom of Judah, a kingdom that was a vassal to the richer and more powerful northern neighbor. The folks in the north didn’t care for Amos’ message. Now we come to chapter 8. Amos will not be silenced. He becomes even more pointed in his word of judgment. Of course, Amos doesn’t claim to be a prophet. He’s just a farmer sent on a mission. This isn’t his profession. It’s not his day job. He’d rather be back home tending to his farm. But God had other plans. God had a message and Amos is the chosen messenger. Isn’t that like God, to choose the unexpected person to deliver the message? Prophet after prophet asked who am I that you would send me. Jesus came out of a small town in a backwater area to reveal the truths of God to humanity.

 

            God has a message for the people of Israel: “the end has come.” In a passage that begins with the image of the abundance of summer fruit ends with a word about famine (of the Word of God). Throughout the passage, the message is clear: Things might look good at the moment, but judgment day is on the horizon. At the moment things were going well economically in Israel under Jeroboam II, the greatest of the northern kingdom’s monarchs. While Jeroboam and his friends were doing well, it apparently came at the expense of the people. God is not impressed. Judgment is at hand. The songs of the temple, which were probably songs of praise, will become songs of grief. Wailing will be the predominant voice in the temple—the one that would not welcome Amos into its midst.

 

            Scripture doesn’t prescribe a political system. We who live in the United States experience a very different context from what was experienced in the centuries in which Scripture emerged, including the Book of Amos. Israel under Jeroboam II wasn’t a democracy. Instead, monarchies, oligarchies, tribal chieftains, and empires provided the context for these messages. Prophets would speak to these realities, holding the powers of the day to account. They most often spoke on behalf of those whom Jesus in Matthew 25 called “the least of these.”

 

            The Word of the Lord came to Amos, who delivered to the political and religious leadership in Israel has a definite economic tenor: “Hear this, you that trample on the needy, and bring to ruin the poor of the land,” judgment is coming. You will seek a word from the Lord, and you will not find it. You will grow frustrated, but the reality is, you’ve set something in motion that you don’t seem willing to stop. Instead, you monkey with the financial system, so it benefits the powerful at the expense of the people. Some of us might remember the financial debacle of 2008. Amos declared: you buy “the poor for silver and the needy for a pair of sandals.” The rich get richer and the poor get poorer. It’s not a recent thing. It’s been going on for millennia. The Word of the Lord consistently calls the perpetrators of injustice to account.

 

            The declaration that comes to Israel is apocalyptic in nature: “On that day, says the Lord God, I will make the sun go down at noon, and darken the earth in broad daylight.” On that day God will turn their “feasts into mourning, and all [their] songs into lamentation.” The day of judgment will come. The day might look bright at the moment, but the clouds are on the horizon. A day of bitterness is coming, so be prepared. Famine is on the horizon, but not one involving bread. It’s a famine of silence. God is finished speaking to Israel. They’ll run to and fro seeking guidance, but it will be too late. Prophets have come and gone, and they have been ignored. So, God is finished with them. They have chosen their pathway and they will suffer the consequences.

 

The word of God revealed through Amos is not a happy one. I would rather hear a word of grace. I want to be comforted. Words of judgment are difficult to hear (and to be made the center of a sermon). The question is, do we need to hear words like this to get our attention. Things were going well for the northern kingdom at that moment, but dangerous times were ahead. Within a few decades, this nation will disappear from history.

 

How should we hear this word, we who embrace the premise that God is love? How does judgment factor in? God appears in Amos as a rather angry figure. It’s justified, but it’s unsettling. But perhaps love for creation requires a bit of anger on God’s part.  So, we come back to that poll that suggests that a majority of white Christians, haven’t been paying attention to the prophetic words that are present in Scripture. Now, that might be due to silence on the part of the preachers. Martin Luther King responded to white preachers who told him to take it slow and easy. Don’t be so forceful in your message. Dr. King responded to their counsel from the Birmingham jail. Could it be that many in the churches are no longer attentive to the word of God? Is there a famine of the Word in our midst? It’s not that the prophetic word has been silenced, it’s just that we tend not to listen.

 

The way I understand prophetic ministry—in its biblical context—is that the future is not predetermined. Israel could change its ways. It could listen. It could turn (think of Jonah’s message to Nineveh, which though fictional is a good reminder that repentance forestalls judgment).  The question is, will it/we listen before the prophetic voice goes silent? Will we? 

           

Picture attribution: Caillebotte, Gustave, 1848-1894. Fruit Displayed on a Stand, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. http://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=50942 [retrieved July 15, 2019]. Original source: http://www.mfa.org/.

 

Not Measuring Up? — A Lectionary Reflection for Pentecost 5C (Amos 7)

Amos the Herdsman – Amiens Cathedral
 
Amos 7:7-17 New Revised Standard Version (NRSV)
 
7 This is what he showed me: the Lord was standing beside a wall built with a plumb line, with a plumb line in his hand. 8 And the Lord said to me, “Amos, what do you see?” And I said, “A plumb line.” Then the Lord said,
“See, I am setting a plumb line
in the midst of my people Israel;
I will never again pass them by;
9 the high places of Isaac shall be made desolate,
and the sanctuaries of Israel shall be laid waste,
and I will rise against the house of Jeroboam with the sword.”
10 Then Amaziah, the priest of Bethel, sent to King Jeroboam of Israel, saying, “Amos has conspired against you in the very center of the house of Israel; the land is not able to bear all his words. 11 For thus Amos has said,
‘Jeroboam shall die by the sword,
and Israel must go into exile
away from his land.’”

12 And Amaziah said to Amos, “O seer, go, flee away to the land of Judah, earn your bread there, and prophesy there; 13 but never again prophesy at Bethel, for it is the king’s sanctuary, and it is a temple of the kingdom.”
14 Then Amos answered Amaziah, “I am no prophet, nor a prophet’s son; but I am a herdsman, and a dresser of sycamore trees, 15 and the Lord took me from following the flock, and the Lord said to me, ‘Go, prophesy to my people Israel.’

 

16 “Now therefore hear the word of the Lord.
You say, ‘Do not prophesy against Israel,
and do not preach against the house of Isaac.’

17 Therefore thus says the Lord:
‘Your wife shall become a prostitute in the city,
and your sons and your daughters shall fall by the sword,
and your land shall be parceled out by line;
you yourself shall die in an unclean land,
and Israel shall surely go into exile away from its land.’”
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                The prophet Amos wasn’t what you would call a “court preacher.” He wasn’t employed by the monarchy or the religious establishment. In other words, he wasn’t a spiritual advisor to the king. As far as the monarchy and the religious leaders were concerned, he was a nuisance who brought to the land unwelcome messages. He made people feel uncomfortable. And Amos didn’t seem to care. Besides, he came to Israel from down south, from the rural community of Tekoa in Judah. According to Amos, God sent him to speak words of judgment against Jeroboam II and his regime that ruled over the northern kingdom of Israel, despite the fact that he came out of a vassal kingdom. Why bother with him. He was just a disgruntled neighbor, from a less powerful and important realm. When Amos came north, he encountered a nation that was its height. This was the reign of Jeroboam II (r. 786-746 BCE), one of the most powerful and successful monarchs in Israel’s history. So, why bother with this troublemaker?  

 

Sometimes we preachers want to think of ourselves as the spiritual descendants of a prophet like Amos, but I doubt the moniker fits most of us. He was too much like the guy standing at the corner with the sandwich board declaring that the end is near at hand. No, there must be a better model for us than him. Yet, here we are, with Amos standing before us, bringing what he says is another message from God. He offers Jeroboam a word from God about a plumb line.

Plumb lines, which were strings with weights attached, that was used to make sure the walls of the building were built straight and true from top to bottom. If they weren’t, the typical two-story house of that region would collapse. You don’t want that. Jeroboam and his kingdom might seem to be prospering. The stock market might be on the upswing. Employment numbers are good. The military is strong. The nation’s enemies are being kept at bay. Yet, here’s the Word of the Lord—you’re not measuring up. If you don’t get your act together you will soon collapse. History is on the side of Amos. Jeroboam might die with Israel at its height, but a quarter century later the Assyrian’s would march in and lay waste to the nation. The people of Israel and Judah might be related. They were neighbors. But they were also rivals. One nation survived (at least for a time) and the other disappeared from the map.

Amos delivered his message to an unreceptive audience. The priest at Bethel, the capital of the northern kingdom, a man by the name of Amaziah, told Amos to go home. Go earn a living elsewhere. This was the king’s sanctuary. It was his temple. He set the rules. There is a principle that was widely used in the period after the Reformation as differing religious entities took root in Europe. The principle goes by the name of Erastianism. The idea is that the religion of the king is the religion of the people—consider that Henry VIII and his successors (to this day) declared themselves the Head of the Church. That’s what Amaziah was trying to communicate to Amos. Go home. Your message is a foreign one. It doesn’t fit with what the king has decreed. Besides, the king is successful. He’s rich. He’s powerful. As for Amaziah, he represented a religious elite that supported and sustained a system that oppressed the people. The word of God was that he would get his just desserts.

Amos is not your typical preacher. As I said, he’s a bit like that street preacher with his sandwich board. He’s parked outside the Temple, annoying everyone who comes into contact with him. When Amaziah tells to go home and prophesy elsewhere (earn your living somewhere else), Amos simply says:  “I am no prophet, nor a prophet’s son; but I am a herdsman, and a dresser of sycamore trees, and the Lord took me from following the flock, and the Lord said to me, ‘Go, prophesy to my people Israel.’” He told the priest that he was just a simple farmer, a layperson, who didn’t want to come north. It wasn’t his idea. No one was paying him for this. In fact, he had to leave behind his fields and flocks to make the journey.  But when God said go, he went. He was standing there before the temple because God said: “Go, prophesy to my people Israel.”

                Amaziah told Amos to go away, don’t prophesy here. But Amos persisted. He delivered the message God had given him for Israel and for Amaziah. What is the message? Your land will be taken. Your people will die by the sword or go into exile. Things might look good right now, but before you know it, things will turn bad. Why?  Because you’re not following the ways of God. While the passage doesn’t spell things out, we will get there. It has something to do with justice.

                Speaking truth to power isn’t easy. It can be dangerous. Think about St. Oscar Romero, the martyred Archbishop of San Salvador, El Salvador, who was murdered while saying the mass in his chapel because he dared to oppose the political leadership that was oppressing the people. Now, he was a religious leader and not a layperson. But others have taken up the mantle of speaking truth to power. Lay people can be the most effective voices for justice. That is true here. Amos draws attention to the injustices of the day, injustices that had caught the attention of God.

What are we called to do? Amos heard the call and heeded it, even though he didn’t have any prophetic credentials. He was a farmer, not a preacher or a theologian. It’s not that we preachers and theologians don’t have our place, but the voice of God can and does come through the voice of the people. As for the religious leaders, we out to be circumspect. When we become the mouthpieces of an oppressive regime or when we justify unjust acts—the detention of refugee children in overcrowded and filthy camps—what might God have to say? How do we measure up?    

 Picture Attribution:  Amos the Herdsman, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. http://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=29259 [retrieved July 8, 2019].

 

A Dip in the River – A Lectionary Reflection for Pentecost 4C (2 Kings 5)

2 Kings 5:1-17 New Revised Standard Version (NRSV)
 

5 Naaman, commander of the army of the king of Aram, was a great man and in high favor with his master, because by him the Lord had given victory to Aram. The man, though a mighty warrior, suffered from leprosy. 2 Now the Arameans on one of their raids had taken a young girl captive from the land of Israel, and she served Naaman’s wife. 3 She said to her mistress, “If only my lord were with the prophet who is in Samaria! He would cure him of his leprosy.” 4 So Naaman went in and told his lord just what the girl from the land of Israel had said. 5 And the king of Aram said, “Go then, and I will send along a letter to the king of Israel.” 

He went, taking with him ten talents of silver, six thousand shekels of gold, and ten sets of garments. 6 He brought the letter to the king of Israel, which read, “When this letter reaches you, know that I have sent to you my servant Naaman, that you may cure him of his leprosy.” 7 When the king of Israel read the letter, he tore his clothes and said, “Am I God, to give death or life, that this man sends word to me to cure a man of his leprosy? Just look and see how he is trying to pick a quarrel with me.” 
8 But when Elisha the man of God heard that the king of Israel had torn his clothes, he sent a message to the king, “Why have you torn your clothes? Let him come to me, that he may learn that there is a prophet in Israel.” 9 So Naaman came with his horses and chariots, and halted at the entrance of Elisha’s house. 10 Elisha sent a messenger to him, saying, “Go, wash in the Jordan seven times, and your flesh shall be restored and you shall be clean.” 11 But Naaman became angry and went away, saying, “I thought that for me he would surely come out, and stand and call on the name of the Lord his God, and would wave his hand over the spot, and cure the leprosy! 12 Are not Abanaand Pharpar, the rivers of Damascus, better than all the waters of Israel? Could I not wash in them, and be clean?” He turned and went away in a rage. 13 But his servants approached and said to him, “Father, if the prophet had commanded you to do something difficult, would you not have done it? How much more, when all he said to you was, ‘Wash, and be clean’?” 14 So he went down and immersed himself seven times in the Jordan, according to the word of the man of God; his flesh was restored like the flesh of a young boy, and he was clean. 
15 Then he returned to the man of God, he and all his company; he came and stood before him and said, “Now I know that there is no God in all the earth except in Israel; please accept a present from your servant.” 16 But he said, “As the Lord lives, whom I serve, I will accept nothing!” He urged him to accept, but he refused. 17 Then Naaman said, “If not, please let two mule-loads of earth be given to your servant; for your servant will no longer offer burnt offering or sacrifice to any god except the Lord.
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                Just as was true with his mentor Elijah, Elisha was a prophet known for his miracles. He healed people, raised the dead, and fed multitudes. For the most part, the recipients of these acts were members of the prophetic community. Unlike Elijah, Elisha doesn’t seem to be at odds with the monarchy. In part that is due to the fact that Elijah’s enemy—Ahab—is no longer ruling in Israel. Although what occurs here in 2 Kings 5 doesn’t seem to be that big of a miracle—someone is healed, but without any real involvement on Elisha’s part. He gives instructions, but not much else. The person healed, however, is an important figure, as is his confession, which is why it’s odd that the lectionary creators cut the story off a bit early. Yes, Naaman is healed, but why is this important? Without the confession of faith, we’re left with a nice story but not much else. Perhaps the reason for its brevity is that it seems a bit ethnocentric, and not fitting our current needs?
                The story of the healing of Naaman of leprosy is one of those stories we may have learned in Sunday School. After all, it features a warrior and a miracle. But what else is there in this story to be concerned with?
                Let’s start at the beginning. Naaman is a general in the army of the kingdom of Aram (Damascus). He has won his share of battles on behalf of his kingdom, but he had been stricken with some form of skin disease (identified here as leprosy). The disease doesn’t seem to have limited his military prowess, but it might have limited his social interactions. We learn that in his household is a young woman, a captive from Israel. She had been taken from her home in one of the many border wars and skirmishes between two neighboring countries. While we’re not told why she offered this word of advice, she informed the general’s wife, whom she served, about a prophet in Israel who had the power to heal. If only Naaman went to visit this prophet, he could be delivered from this affliction. When informed of this possibility, Naaman went to the king and asked for help in gaining access to this means of healing. The king agreed to the request, and put together some tribute for Naaman to take with him as a sign of friendship, or at least a truce, along with a letter addressed to the king of Israel (who at the time was Jehoram. He did evil in the sight of the Lord, just not as bad as his father, Ahab).
                When the king of Israel received the letter, he was horrified, because he assumed that the king of Aram was asking him, the king of Israel, to heal this general. He was so upset that he tore his robes, as a sign of grief. If he couldn’t heal the man, then surely war was on the horizon. Although one king asked the other king for assistance, the servant girl didn’t have the king in mind, but a prophet. So, something got lost in translation. Fortunately, Elisha heard about the situation and sent word to the king. He told the king to send Naaman to him, for he was the appropriate person to deal with the situation. He was the prophet that the young woman had in mind. Elisha told the king: “Let him come to me, that he may learn that there is a prophet in Israel.” There isn’t a lot of compassion in this response on Elisha’s part. It seems as if he saw this as an opportunity to demonstrate the power of Israel’s God. What is about to occur is sometimes understood to be a power encounter. It is meant to be a revelation of the power of God, as opposed to other forces and deities.
                The next word we hear is that “Naaman came with his horses and chariots, and halted at the entrance of Elisha’s house.” Naaman came to Elisha reflecting a sense of power. He had with him all the signs of his military prowess and importance. So, what would Elisha do? How would he respond?  The answer is interesting. He doesn’t even venture out from his house to greet the mighty general. He just sends word to the general, telling him to go and wash himself seven times in the Jordan. Naaman is incensed. At the very least he expected Elisha to come out and greet him, and he also expected Elisha to say some words and wave his hand over the spot. Surely there was some ritual to be performed, but why go wash in the Jordan? What’s so special about the Jordan that it would cleanse him. After all, Damascus had better rivers than the Jordan. So, he goes away, angry at being snubbed and told to do something demeaning, like bathing in the Jordan (of all places).
                Though he was angry at Elisha’s request, Naaman’s aides convince him to do as he was asked. Why is it a big deal? Elisha could have asked him to do something much more difficult. The ancient world is full of stories of difficult quests. This is pretty simple. So, Naaman, perhaps reluctantly, but still hopeful that he could rid himself of this disease, does as he was asked. Sure enough, he’s healed. The text informs us that “his flesh was restored like the flesh of a young boy, and he was clean.”  With this, the lectionary reading comes to a close. We can rejoice in the compassion of God, who provides healing even to a foreigner. In fact, Naaman represented an enemy of Israel. This is good news. Of course, this isn’t really the end of the story.
                By ending the passage at verse 14, the emphasis is on Elisha’s miracle power, but is that the intent of the story? Yes, it’s a story of compassion, even for the outsider (Naaman is both a foreigner and one with a disease that normally excluded them from society). But verses 15-17 speak of conversion. Is this not the point of the whole story? When Naaman returns to the house of Elisha, he confesses that “there is no God in all the earth except in Israel” (vs. 15). This confession reinforces a declaration made at the beginning of the story, that it was the LORD (YHWH) who given him the victories on behalf of Aram, victories that would have included wars and battles with Israel (vs. 1).

                So, at one level, if we continue on to the end of verse 17, we hear a word about the superiority of the God of Israel over the nations. It is a message that is found throughout the Hebrew Bible. Despite the smallness of the nation of Israel or Judah, despite its powerlessness in the face of its enemies, God is still in control. We may struggle with that image—it’s one that we who participate in interreligious conversations struggle with—but is also a reminder that God is not bound by national boundaries. It is also a reminder that God is concerned about the people of all nations, including a general from Aram, who has in his household a captive from Israel, who for whatever reason gets the ball rolling by informing her mistress that there is a prophet in Israel who can heal him of his disease. It is a word about humility—finding healing if one is willing to take a dip in a foreign body of water. It is also a word about a transformative experience of encountering the God of Israel.  And through this God is glorified.

Picture attribution: Naaman is cured from leprosy, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. http://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=55732 [retrieved July 1, 2019]. Original source: http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Enamel_plaque_Naaman_BM.jpg.

 

Passing the Mantle — Lectionary Reflection for Pentecost 3C (2 Kings 2)

2 Kings 2:1-2, 6-14 New Revised Standard Version (NRSV)
 

2 Now when the Lord was about to take Elijah up to heaven by a whirlwind, Elijah and Elisha were on their way from Gilgal. 2 Elijah said to Elisha, “Stay here; for the Lord has sent me as far as Bethel.” But Elisha said, “As the Lord lives, and as you yourself live, I will not leave you.” So they went down to Bethel. 

6 Then Elijah said to him, “Stay here; for the Lord has sent me to the Jordan.” But he said, “As the Lord lives, and as you yourself live, I will not leave you.” So the two of them went on. 7 Fifty men of the company of prophets also went, and stood at some distance from them, as they both were standing by the Jordan. 8 Then Elijah took his mantle and rolled it up, and struck the water; the water was parted to the one side and to the other, until the two of them crossed on dry ground. 

9 When they had crossed, Elijah said to Elisha, “Tell me what I may do for you, before I am taken from you.” Elisha said, “Please let me inherit a double share of your spirit.” 10 He responded, “You have asked a hard thing; yet, if you see me as I am being taken from you, it will be granted you; if not, it will not.” 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. 12 Elisha kept watching and crying out, “Father, father! The chariots of Israel and its horsemen!” But when he could no longer see him, he grasped his own clothes and tore them in two pieces. 

13 He picked up the mantle of Elijah that had fallen from him, and went back and stood on the bank of the Jordan. 14 He took the mantle of Elijah that had fallen from him, and struck the water, saying, “Where is the Lord, the God of Elijah?” When he had struck the water, the water was parted to the one side and to the other, and Elisha went over.

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                As I grow older and can see retirement on the horizon, texts like this begin to speak more loudly. I’m not Elijah or Elisha. At one level, I don’t claim to be a prophet in the form that these two figures take. At the same time, as an ordained minister, who has preached most Sundays for the past twenty-one years, I hear in this story a word spoken to my own journey. To preach requires the Spirit. The same is true for all acts of ministry. Different people will have different takes on this passage. Personal context matters. For me, it’s that sense of seeing the current pathway closing. In other words, I’ve begun to see more clearly that a time when the mantle must be passed on to the next generation. In fact, a few years back, when I was inducted into the College of Fellows of the Academy of Parish Clergy, I saw this as a recognition of a call to assist younger clergy in furthering their journeys. This is an important calling since at least half of all clergy will leave the ministry within five years of ordination. Many leave due to disillusionment. Some of that disillusionment rests at the feet of older clergy who may feel threatened by the emerging generations. Instead of offering to help with the passage into the future, they cut themselves off and important forms of wisdom don’t get passed on. When God said to Elijah that he should anoint Elisha as his successor, Elijah could have resisted. He could have felt threatened. But Elijah understood the need to mentor his successor. So, he took up the task (1 Kings 19).

 

This passage also came to mind as I was planning for my upcoming sabbatical. The grant application the congregation was submitting required a theme, and we chose “River Crossings” because that spoke the journey ahead.  A time of transition stands on the horizon for me as a pastor and for the congregation I serve. So, stories that speak of transition stand out. There is the story of Moses, who led the people to the Jordan but didn’t cross over. That was left to his apprentice, Joshua. Elijah crossed the river, together with his apprentice, Elisha. Once they crossed the Jordan, Elijah passed the mantle. These are two images of transition. The one before us pictures Elijah and Elisha crossing the river, but in the end, it is Elisha that continues the ministry that had once been Elijah’s. His ministry would be different from his predecessor, but Elijah was willing to serve as his guide.

                These two figures can leave us confused. Who comes first, Elijah or Elisha? The writers of 2 Kings, let us know that it is Elijah first and then Elisha. When last we saw Elijah in the lectionary readings, he had fled to the desert, where he hoped to die, feeling abandoned. His cry to God was something like “Woe is me, nobody likes me, everybody hates me.” (1 Kings 19:1-15). After that experience in the desert, Elijah is told to anoint “Elisha, son of Shaphat of Abel-meholah as prophet in your place.” With that instruction, Elijah found Elisha plowing his field and threw his mantle over him, and after a bit of negotiation, Elisha followed Elijah, becoming his apprentice (1 Kings 19:16,19-21). Now it was time to pass the mantle. It was time for Elijah to leave and Elisha to take his place. This didn’t occur until Elijah had fully instructed his apprentice, and for his part, Elisha is faithful in his following of Elijah. Elijah is the more famous of the two, but both men spoke for God to a people who didn’t always appreciate the message.

                The passage begins with Elijah and Elisha heading out from Gilgal. Elijah told his apprentice to stay behind as he headed to Bethel, but Elisha declared his desire to continue on with his master. When they arrived at Bethel, the disciples of the prophets came out and warned Elisha that God would be taking Elijah away from him. He acknowledged the fact. Elijah and Elisha would repeat this pattern regarding staying behind at each juncture on the path to the place where God would take Elijah. Each time Elisha pledged to stay with him. As they made the journey from Bethel to Jericho and then to the Jordan, fifty disciples of the prophets followed along with them, but at a distance, until they reached the Jordan. Here is where the moment of transition begins.

 

                Once again, Elisha is told to stay behind, as Elijah follows his path beyond the Jordan, but Elisha refuses. At this point, Elijah takes his cloak or mantle, rolls it up, and then slaps the water of the Jordan with it. With that, the water of the river divides, much like it did when Joshua led the people of Israel into the Promised Land. Though, on this occasion, Elijah intends to cross to the other side, out of the Promised Land. As they cross the river, Elisha having demonstrated his loyalty to Elijah, his master asks him: “what can I do for you before I am taken from you?”  Elisha answers: “Let a double portion of your spirit pass on to me.” (vs. 9 Tanakh). That’s asking for a lot, says Elijah. But, he’s open to the possibility, as long as Elisha keeps his focus on his master as he is taken up into the whirlwind. If not, if he fails to keep his concentration on Elijah’s departure, the deal’s off. All along the way, from Gilgal to this moment, it seems as if Elijah is testing Elisha’s resolve. This will be the last test before the mantle is passed.

                It is at this point, as they are walking and talking that a fiery chariot descends from the heavens and sweeps in to take Elijah from the earth. And as Elisha watched Elijah taken up into the whirlwind, he cries out “oh father, oh father.” When he could no longer see his master, he took his garments and tore them in grief. With that expression of mourning, Elisha picked up the mantle of his master, which Elijah had dropped. He struck the river, which parted, and he crossed over. Here is the evidence—Elisha has the spirit, perhaps more than did Elijah.  He is the heir. His turn has come. Thus, begins a new chapter, a new ministry.

Life is like that. It never stands still. Elijah was a great prophet. In actuality, his prophetic efforts were probably grander than those of Elisha, but there comes a time for the mantle to be passed. In this story, Elijah is taken from the earth. He doesn’t die; he simply is taken up. Only Enoch has the same experience. That is, “Enoch walked with God; then he was no more, for God took him” (Gen. 5:24 Tanakh). Elijah walks with God and God takes him. Elijah had his struggles. He had his victories, but he also had to flee. But the ministry goes on. A new person steps to the plate. He has shown his mettle. He stood steadfastly with his mentor. He didn’t aside and follow another pathway.  But he went forward in the spirit, having received the same spirit that empowered Elijah. The mantle, the cloak, is not the source of power but is the symbol of a spiritual power that Elisha discerned was necessary to fulfill his calling.  And off he goes, in the spirit. The same is true for us. To fulfill our callings, whether we would term them prophetic or not, requires the presence of the Spirit of God.

Picture Attribution:  Swanson, John August. Elijah, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. http://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=56543 [retrieved June 24, 2019]. Original source: http://www.JohnAugustSwanson.com – copyright 2008 by John August Swanson.

               
                 

 

Woe Is Me: Elijah’s Lament, a lectionary reflection for Pentecost 2C (1 Kings 19)

1 Kings 19:1-15 New Revised Standard Version (NRSV)
 

19 Ahab told Jezebel all that Elijah had done, and how he had killed all the prophets with the sword. 2 Then Jezebel sent a messenger to Elijah, saying, “So may the gods do to me, and more also, if I do not make your life like the life of one of them by this time tomorrow.” 3 Then he was afraid; he got up and fled for his life, and came to Beer-sheba, which belongs to Judah; he left his servant there. 

4 But he himself went a day’s journey into the wilderness, and came and sat down under a solitary broom tree. He asked that he might die: “It is enough; now, O Lord, take away my life, for I am no better than my ancestors.” 5 Then he lay down under the broom tree and fell asleep. Suddenly an angel touched him and said to him, “Get up and eat.” 6 He looked, and there at his head was a cake baked on hot stones, and a jar of water. He ate and drank, and lay down again. 7 The angel of the Lord came a second time, touched him, and said, “Get up and eat, otherwise the journey will be too much for you.” 8 He got up, and ate and drank; then he went in the strength of that food forty days and forty nights to Horeb the mount of God. 9 At that place he came to a cave, and spent the night there.  

Then the word of the Lord came to him, saying, “What are you doing here, Elijah?” 10 He answered, “I have been very zealous for the Lord, the God of hosts; for the Israelites have forsaken your covenant, thrown down your altars, and killed your prophets with the sword. I alone am left, and they are seeking my life, to take it away.” 
11 He said, “Go out and stand on the mountain before the Lord, for the Lord is about to pass by.” Now there was a great wind, so strong that it was splitting mountains and breaking rocks in pieces before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind; and after the wind an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake; 12 and after the earthquake a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire; and after the fire a sound of sheer silence. 13 When Elijah heard it, he wrapped his face in his mantle and went out and stood at the entrance of the cave. Then there came a voice to him that said, “What are you doing here, Elijah?” 14 He answered, “I have been very zealous for the Lord, the God of hosts; for the Israelites have forsaken your covenant, thrown down your altars, and killed your prophets with the sword. I alone am left, and they are seeking my life, to take it away.” 15 Then the Lord said to him, “Go, return on your way to the wilderness of Damascus; when you arrive, you shall anoint Hazael as king over Aram.
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                We have moved through the Day of Pentecost and Trinity Sunday, and now we begin the long journey that takes us to Advent. This season, which is nearly six months in duration (and marked by the color green) is called, by some, ordinary time. I don’t care for this designation, so I tend to count the Sundays after Pentecost. I don’t know that any moment in time is ordinary, though there are moments, like Christmas, Epiphany, Good Friday, Easter, and Pentecost that stand out, but each Sunday has its own value. During this season there usually two choices for the first reading, all coming from the Hebrew Bible. I will normally be commenting on the semi-continuous texts, rather than the paired texts. The first of these texts is taken from 1 Kings 19, which picks up immediately following Elijah’s encounter with and triumph over the prophets of Baal at Mount Carmel. That encounter is both exciting and off-putting. It’s always good to hear that God triumphs, but the killing of the prophets of Baal—that’s not so enticing. Such violence doesn’t fit well with our sensibilities. In fact, it serves as a reminder of the tendency of religions in general and Christianity in particularity to enforce doctrinal and moral compliance with the threat of violence. At the same time, it represents the reality of the cycle of violence that is so present in our world. However, this is the background to the reading from 1 Kings 19. In fact, the prophet Elijah seems to take pride in his act of violence, which he believes cleansed the land of religious pollution (the prophets of Baal). Now it should be noted that Jezebel, Queen of Israel, had been attempting a purge of the prophets of Yahweh (1 Kings 18:4). This appears to be the way religious differences were handled back then. But despite his victory, it appears that Elijah is feeling depressed. He did his job, but it doesn’t seem to have made a difference.   
 
                When we come to chapter 19 of 1 Kings, having already watched as God answered Elijah’s prayer and had sent fire from heaven to consume the offering, something Baal could not do, the wrath of Jezebel is unleashed against him. When King Ahab told Jezebel what Elijah had done at Mount Carmel, Jezebel sent a message to Elijah threatening to do to him, what he had done to her prophets. Thus, the cycle of violence would continue, and truth be told, it continues into the present. When Elijah received this message he fled for his life, traveling to Beer-Sheba, in the neighboring country of Judah. He was safe, for now, unless Jezebel could get an extradition order for his arrest. Though he was safe, he felt depressed. He felt as if, despite his efforts, nothing had changed, and so he left his assistant in the town and headed out into the Wilderness (desert). He was ready to give up and even die. Why go on? He had no purpose.
He lay down in the desert and went to sleep (perhaps hoping not to wake up), but as he slept he was visited by an angel (I’m not sure why verses 5-7 are considered optional, as they detail the angelic vision). The angel had laid out food and water and commanded him to get up and eat. He did so, then went back to sleep. The angel woke him up and told him once more to eat, so he would have strength for forty days and nights (presumably a time of fasting as well as journeying). This time instructions were given. He needed to eat so he could make the journey to Mount Horeb, the holy mountain in the Sinai, where Moses saw the burning bush.  He traveled to Mount Horeb, where he entered a cave and spent the night. You can see here parallels to the story of Moses. Moses had to flee, and it was in the desert of Sinai, on this mountain, that God appeared to Moses and spoke to him (Exodus 3:1-6). It was here that Moses received his commission. It would be here that Elijah would hear from God.
The Lord spoke to Elijah, asking him why he was there. Elijah responded by reminding God of what he had done. He was zealous for the Lord. He’d torn down the altars to foreign gods and put to death the prophets of these gods. Now, he alone was left, and his enemies are after him, seeking to put him to death. Elijah is not in a good place. He feels abandoned. He’d done what he thought God wanted, but to what end. Sometimes we feel that way. We may not have torn down altars, or thankfully killed prophets, but we’ve given our all, and don’t have much to show for it. It’s one of the reasons so many clergy hang it up before they reach five years of service. Where is the fruit of one’s efforts? Where is the appreciation?
Burnout is a common concern among clergy. It’s one reason why pastorates tend to be short. Clergy give their all and then within a few years, feel as if they have nothing left to give to the congregation. So, it’s time to move—either to a new congregation where one can start over or to another vocation. Elijah is feeling it. He’s been battling in Israel for Yahweh for countless years. While he might have a token success here or there, the status quo remains in place, and the people simply don’t seem to care.
God responds to Elijah’s laments (and those of contemporary clergy, perhaps), but sending him out of the cave so he can experience the presence of God. The Lord promises to pass by, but what will be the form of that presence? First Elijah experiences a mighty wind, so mighty it splits mountains and breaks apart rocks. I’ve experienced some big winds, but nothing like that. Even hurricanes and tornados don’t split mountains. Nevertheless, despite the power of the wind, God is not present in the wind.  Then comes an earthquake, but God is not in the earthquake either. Both the wind and the quake suggest power and might. Though different in its makeup, God wasn’t present in the fire either. This is fascinating because the Pentecost story suggests that the Spirit came as a mighty wind and baptized with fire. But at least here, wind, quakes, and fire, are not markers of God’s presence, even though that likely was what Elijah expected (or something like it). It’s what we tend to expect as well. Our God is an awesome God, is that not true?
So how is God is present? The reading suggests that the fire was followed by “sheer silence” or as the Tanakh puts it, as “a soft murmuring sound.” This is the opposite of power, and yet this is how God chose to be revealed. Of course, the Gospels recount the story of Jesus, the revelation of God, who reveals God’s presence in and through the cross—not something one would expect of God.
I don’t know if Elijah isn’t all that impressed with this show of God’s presence. He does cover himself with his mantle (cloak), so maybe he got a bit of a scare, from the wind, quake, and fire, but then there’s the quietness. So, maybe he’s a bit underwhelmed because he goes back to his complaints in response to God’s question: “why are you here?” Elijah’s answer is simple: I was zealous for the cause. I did everything I was supposed to do, but here I am, alone with a death warrant set out for me. That’s why Elijah has gone out to the desert—not to meet God but to flee God’s call, which doesn’t seem to have made a difference.
How does God respond? God kicks Elijah in the backside and tells him to get back in the game. Go back to where you came from and along the way stop in Damascus and anoint Hazael king of Damascus, and from there go and anoint Jehu, son of Nimshi as king of Israel. Set up a rival regime in the nations. While you’re at it, anoint Elisha as your successor. It’s time for change—politically and spiritually. The kings of Damascus and Israel had their chance, but they failed, and so it’s time for another. As for Elijah, he still has work to do, but it’s also time to prepare another to take up the mantle. In the end, all who bow to Baal will fall to the sword. That is the task set before Elijah. Oh, and by the way, you’re not alone Elijah. There are seven thousand in Israel who haven’t bowed to Baal.
The word to us as the people of God is the same. Even when things look bleak, we’re not alone. There are others who are steadfast in the faith. So, get back out there. Don’t lose faith. Trust in the Lord who is present not only in the quakes and fire but in silence as well. Now, none of this is meant to downplay the realities of burnout, stress, and a sense of aloneness that many clergy feel. I know I’ve felt it. I’ve had my moments of depression over the years. So, I understand. There are times to walk away. On the other hand, there are times to persevere—in the Spirit, of course.  It is good to know, we’re not alone.

Picture Attribution: Volterra, Daniele da, ca. 1509-1566. Prophet Elijah on Mount Horeb, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. http://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=46988 [retrieved June 17, 2019]. Original source: http://yorckproject.de.

 

Holy Wisdom – A lectionary reflection for Trinity Sunday (Proverbs 8)

Wisdom, Prudence, and Knowledge

Proverbs 8:1-4, 22-31  New Revised Standard Version (NRSV)

 
8 Does not wisdom call,
    and does not understanding raise her voice?
2 On the heights, beside the way,
    at the crossroads she takes her stand;
3 beside the gates in front of the town,
    at the entrance of the portals she cries out:
4 “To you, O people, I call,
    and my cry is to all that live.
 
22 The Lord created me at the beginning of his work,
    the first of his acts of long ago.
23 Ages ago I was set up,
    at the first, before the beginning of the earth.
24 When there were no depths I was brought forth,
    when there were no springs abounding with water.
25 Before the mountains had been shaped,
    before the hills, I was brought forth—
26 when he had not yet made earth and fields,
    or the world’s first bits of soil.
27 When he established the heavens, I was there,
    when he drew a circle on the face of the deep,
28 when he made firm the skies above,
    when he established the fountains of the deep,
29 when he assigned to the sea its limit,
    so that the waters might not transgress his command,
when he marked out the foundations of the earth,
30     then I was beside him, like a master worker;
and I was daily his delight,
    rejoicing before him always,
31 rejoicing in his inhabited world
    and delighting in the human race.
 
 
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                Pentecost Sunday, which celebrates the sending of the Spirit, is followed by Trinity Sunday. Now that we have the Spirit on board, we can attend to the question of the Trinity as a whole. That is, how do we fit all the pieces together as one God in three persons, blessed Trinity? As a Trinitarian, who understands the challenges presented by the doctrine, I’ve wrestled with the question. I even have a book due out any minute that explores the idea in conversation with my own denominational tradition that is by intention non-creedal. That fact—being non-creedal—always makes for an interesting Trinity Sunday.
 
The lectionary invites preachers to consider a variety of biblical texts for any given Sunday, including readings from the Hebrew Bible. The question for us this week is whether we can find allusions to the Trinity in the Hebrew Bible. We must do this while recognizing that Judaism, like Islam, is a strictly monotheistic tradition. The ancient church, using such devices as the allegorical method, found those allusions, but I’m not sure a Jewish reader would always agree. Nevertheless, Proverbs 8, which celebrates Holy Wisdom, is the chosen first reading for Trinity Sunday in year C. So, what should we make of this witness? What direction might we go with the passage on Trinity Sunday?
 
                As we consider the question, I confess to being a Trinitarian who believes that a faithful reading of Scripture reveals a Trinitarian vision of God’s nature. Nevertheless, we must be careful with how we handle texts like this. While Proverbs 8 speaks of Wisdom in elevated terms, using female descriptors, which lends itself to broadening our conception of God’s nature (moving beyond the traditional masculine vision), this particular text poses a distinct challenge. That is because, while it speaks of Wisdom calling us to pay attention to its witness, it also speaks of Wisdom as the first act of God’s creation not as being divine in any recognizable way (vs. 22). The doctrine of the Trinity, on the other hand, insists that the three persons of the Godhead (three hypostases in one substance) are eternal and uncreated. That goes for the Logos as well as Wisdom (Sophia), but the witness here is that Wisdom is the first act of creation. So, we should be wary about using this passage to inform our Trinitarian visions, even if this passage does lend itself to considering the female dimension within God’s nature. Indeed, as Liza Anderson notes, Arius used Proverbs 8:22 in reference to the Logos to affirm his premise that Christ is a created being.  She writes: 
 

Given that subsequent ecumenical councils commit us to a belief that the Spirit is likewise uncreated, a simple identification of the biblical figure of Wisdom with any of the three Trinitarian Persons seems impossible to sustain. There are still all kinds of interesting things to do with that feminine personification of Wisdom; the Russian tradition of sophiology as expressed by Bulgakov and others offers examples. But there is no easy way to conflate it with the Holy Spirit that doesn’t simply result in subordinating the Spirit to the Father and the Son.  [Liza Anderson, “Translating the Trinity,” Covenant (March 28, 2019).]

 
While the passage is suggestive, and the idea of the divine nature of Wisdom is present at points in canonical Scripture and in non-canonical texts, with this warning from a historian of the early church, it might be best if we don’t delve too deeply into conversations that take more space than I have in this essay. So, perhaps we should consider other ways of reading this passage that might prove spiritually beneficial.
 
The reading begins with a depiction of Woman Wisdom as a street preacher, calling out to all who will listen, to follow her lead. This picture of Wisdom standing at the gates calling out to any who will listen comes after the author of this part of the book of Proverbs (chapters 1-9) describes both the allure and the dangers offered by the strange or loose woman (Proverbs 7). This opening section of Proverbs (chapters 1-9) depicts a father sharing wisdom with his son (a perfect Father’s Day allusion?). The key to this bit of wisdom is the contrast between the loose woman who represents folly and the righteous creation of God who offers the boy Wisdom.   
 
With the reading prefaced by the picture of Woman Wisdom standing at the gates of the city beckoning all who will hear to follow her, we come to verse 22. We might start by affirming the premise of verse 22, that Wisdom is the first act of God’s creation.  The writer of this poem lifts up Wisdom’s role in the creative process. She was there from the beginning, before anything took form, from the sea to the sky to the land. But what was the role she played?
 
Cameron Howard suggests that “Wisdom was God’s joyful companion,” a vision revealed in the fine two verses of the passage we have before us. Joy is the operative word here regarding Wisdom, so we might consider that, as Howard suggests, “to walk in the straight and righteous paths of Wisdom, then, is to connect with this same primal joy” [Connections, pg. 3-4]. This idea that Wisdom is God’s companion as God engages in the work of creation emerges from an alternative reading of verse 30. The NRSV speaks of Wisdom being the “master worker.” However, it is also possible to read this as “child.” If we read it as “master worker” or architect, then how should we understand the reference to God taking daily delight in Wisdom? Is it in terms of the work being done or something else? If we go with “child,” then Wisdom is that companion with whom God shares the joy of creation? Whatever the case, God takes delight in what is created, as does Wisdom. Indeed, Wisdom rejoices in the inhabited world and in the human race itself. All of this goes back to the pronouncement in Genesis 1 that the creation is good.
 
                So the message of the day is really one of joy. Let’s rejoice in the beauty of creation, including human life. It is good and blessed. Such joy should lead us to a commitment to care for creation. As Leanne Van Dyke suggests, “A Christian vision that looks out onto our world with the eyes of Wisdom constantly sees opportunities for participating in God’s own intentions and plans. God is not a Creator gone missing. God is intimately related to each and every creature” [Connections, p 5]. Such a vision, one that motivates us to social engagement, brings with it a sense of joy. Again, Van Dyke writes: The church certainly better fulfill its mission to communicate the gospel to a jaded world with winsome cheer and joyful delight rather than judgment and blame” [Connections, p. 6]. It is true that prophets are known to talk turkey about things in the world, and that is sometimes needed, but a constant harangue doesn’t get us far. Joy, on the other hand, it has more to offer.
 
                Trinity Sunday highlights God in God’s fullness, however we have come to understand that fullness. In celebrating God’s fullness, we acknowledge God’s role as Creator. Knowing that God takes delight in the creation, of which Holy Wisdom is both the first act and the partner, we can sing boldly: “All creatures of our God and king, lift up your voice and with us sing; Alleluia, Alleluia!”

 Image attribution: Master of the Cité des Dames, active 1400-1415. Wisdom, Prudence, and Knowledge, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. http://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=56953 [retrieved June 10, 2019]. Original source: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Othea%27s_Epistle_(Queen%27s_Manuscript)_02.jpg.

 

Confused Talk — Lectionary Reflection for Pentecost Sunday (Genesis 11)

Genesis11:1-9 New Revised Standard Version (NRSV)

11 Now the whole earth had one language and the same words. 2 And as they migrated from the east, they came upon a plain in the land of Shinar and settled there. 3 And they said to one another, “Come, let us make bricks, and burn them thoroughly.” And they had brick for stone, and bitumen for mortar. 4 Then they said, “Come, let us build ourselves a city, and a tower with its top in the heavens, and let us make a name for ourselves; otherwise we shall be scattered abroad upon the face of the whole earth.” 5 The Lord came down to see the city and the tower, which mortals had built. 6 And the Lord said, “Look, they are one people, and they have all one language; and this is only the beginning of what they will do; nothing that they propose to do will now be impossible for them. 7 Come, let us go down, and confuse their language there, so that they will not understand one another’s speech.” 8 So the Lord scattered them abroad from there over the face of all the earth, and they left off building the city. 9 Therefore it was called Babel, because there the Lord confused the language of all the earth; and from there the Lord scattered them abroad over the face of all the earth.

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                It is truly annoying when people just babble on. That phrase or concept of speech that is confused and irrelevant takes its origins from this biblical story. Whether one knows the context or not, the story of the Tower of Babel is a biblical story people seem able to envision. It is an image that has been part of our cultural landscape for centuries. Now, it appears in the lectionary in connection with Pentecost Sunday. Pentecost is concerned with the birthing of the Christian movement as the Spirit empowers this fledgling community to spread the good news across the world (I’m tempted to say globe but that might be somewhat anachronistic). If Babel has to do with the confusion languages, Pentecost might have something to do with its reversal. Or does it? The story of Babel suggests that the confusion of languages is rooted in human hubris. In some way, Pentecost is seen as a means of undoing the damage done at Babel, but perhaps not be creating a monoculture, but providing an opportunity for understanding. What is scattered is now brought back together, without the diversity being removed.
                The reading from Genesis 11 is designated as a reading from the Hebrew Bible for Pentecost Sunday. To flesh out a bit more the Pentecost setting, we must turn to Acts 2, where we find the followers of Jesus gathered in a room in Jerusalem. They’ve heard their commission to take the good news to the ends of the earth. They’ve also heard the call to wait until the Spirit comes upon them. It’s during the festival of Pentecost, when Jews gathered in Jerusalem to celebrate the harvest, that the Spirit decides to descend. The gathered disciples, some 150 strong, break out in praise, each speaking a different language, a language they had not learned prior to this experience. There was a crowd of people standing outside who heard the message—each in his or her own language—and it got their attention. This led to Peter’s sermon and an altar call that led to some 3000 baptisms (or so Luke reports).
                This passage from Genesis 11 is, in the Genesis context, a self-contained story situated between genealogical listings. For our purposes, in the context of Pentecost, it provides a background to the Spirit’s provision of the gift of languages in Acts 2. What was confused becomes understandable to the glory of God. Genesis 1-11 is understood to be primeval history. It is a saga that reveals important elements of the faith but shouldn’t be understood to provide historical information. This Kairos (sacred) time, not Chronos time. If we can agree on this matter, then we’ll be able to hear the message present in the passage. We begin with the revelation that once everyone spoke the same language. The preceding chapter (chapter 10) gives us a genealogical listing of the descendants of the three sons of Noah. Thus, we would assume that the world that is migrating to the land of Shinar, as noted in this reading, are descendants of Noah and his sons Ham, Shem, and Japheth. Interestingly, the story of Babel is situated between the genealogical listings in chapter 10 and the restatement of Shem’s descendants in verse 10 of chapter11, taking us up to Abram, son of Terah. 
 
So where is the land of Shinar? The name of the city—Babel—gives us a clue that this would be a city located in the Tigris-Euphrates valley. Now, the idea that the entire world would make this journey is assuming that the human population is rather small. In fact, the founder of Babel is named in chapter 10 as Nimrod, son of Cush, son of Ham. To the original readers of this passage, this story would speak of the origins of Israel’s enemy Babylon. Of course, Babylon’s origins would be rooted in human hubris. What else would you expect? 
 
According to our story, when the migrants from the east made their way to the land of Shinar they decided to make bricks and build a city. Not only did they build a city, but they built a tower in the middle of the city so they could reach the heavens, for, of course, that’s where God (the gods) live. We know something of these towers that were prominent in the cities of Mesopotamia, including Babylon. They were known as ziggurats, towers with stairs on all sides. At the top of the tower was an altar. This was understood to be a “Stairway to Heaven” (to borrow from Led Zeppelin).  The tower had the purpose of being a place of worship. That’s understood. What’s interesting here is that they chose to build the tower to the heavens, according to this account, not for worship but so they could make a name for themselves. This was considered an evil act, one that the LORD (Yahweh) did not appreciate. Even as the denizens of Babel built their way to the heavens, the LORD came down to check things out. When it came to the contrast between the temples of Mesopotamia and those built in Israel, Peter Enns and Jared Byas note: “By contrast, Israel’s worship structures (the tabernacle and later the temple) don’t have steps going up to heaven. Instead, Israel waits for God to come down.” [Peter Enns & Jared Byas,  Genesis for Normal People, Patheos Press. Kindle loc 984].
With the tower built so that the people of Babel could make a name for themselves, lest they find themselves scattered across the land, the LORD decided to confound their plans by confusing their languages. There is a bit of fear on the part of Yahweh and the divine council. Yahweh admits that since they are one people with one language, then if something isn’t done, nothing will be impossible for them. Action is required. Now the question here is whether Yahweh is afraid of them or for them. Remember in Genesis 3, God exiles Adam and Eve so they will no longer have access to the tree of life, effectively making them immortal. Putting a barrier up kept them from engaging in actions that might ultimately be detrimental to them (or so it seems). Could the same be true here?
The view of the people of Babel seems to be that if they don’t take care of themselves, no one will. In other words, they’re not considering how God fits into the situation. Nevertheless, despite the fear that they will be scattered, the LORD, in the end, confuses their languages and scatters them across the land. And thus the nations are born (in primeval fashion). Soon Abram will appear from one of these scattered tribes, and the process of scattering will slowly be unwound (perhaps).
So, how do we hear this story at Pentecost? I noted above that Pentecost is often understood to be an unwinding of Babel, but perhaps not.  Perhaps the response of Pentecost is not a return to a mono-lingual reality, but a binding together of peoples in their diversity. Thus, Cameron B. R. Howard writes: “In the Babel account, fear is the binding agent that drives the building projects: fear of dispersal, of loss, of living with otherness. Both the Babel and the Pentecost accounts emphasize the power of human unity, without expecting human sameness, sending people out into the world to forge connections with those who are different from themselves.” [Joel B. Green, et al, Connections: A Lectionary Commentary for Preaching and Worship: 2 (Kindle Locations 9932-9934).].
So maybe difference isn’t punishment, it’s simply reality. If this is true, and I think it is, then unity is not found in uniformity but in the way in which the Spirit, who is the binding agent, removes the fear that drove the people of Babel to build the tower and drives us to build barriers to keep each other at bay. Is this not a good message for our times when fear and hubris conspire to undermine true unity in the Spirit?  
Picture Attribution: Bruegel, Pieter, approximately 1525-1569. Tower of Babel, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. http://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=56948 [retrieved June 3, 2019]. Original source: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Pieter_Bruegel_the_Elder_-_The_Tower_of_Babel_(Vienna)_-_Google_Art_Project_-_edited.jpg.

 

The Power of Hymn-Singing — Lectionary Reflection for Easter 7C (Acts 16)

Acts16:16-34 New Revised Standard Version (NRSV)
 
16 One day, as we were going to the place of prayer, we met a slave-girl who had a spirit of divination and brought her owners a great deal of money by fortune-telling. 17 While she followed Paul and us, she would cry out, “These men are slaves of the Most High God, who proclaim to you a way of salvation.” 18 She kept doing this for many days. But Paul, very much annoyed, turned and said to the spirit, “I order you in the name of Jesus Christ to come out of her.” And it came out that very hour.

 

19 But when her owners saw that their hope of making money was gone, they seized Paul and Silas and dragged them into the marketplace before the authorities. 20 When they had brought them before the magistrates, they said, “These men are disturbing our city; they are Jews 21 and are advocating customs that are not lawful for us as Romans to adopt or observe.” 22 The crowd joined in attacking them, and the magistrates had them stripped of their clothing and ordered them to be beaten with rods. 23 After they had given them a severe flogging, they threw them into prison and ordered the jailer to keep them securely. 24 Following these instructions, he put them in the innermost cell and fastened their feet in the stocks. 

 

 

25 About midnight Paul and Silas were praying and singing hymns to God, and the prisoners were listening to them. 26 Suddenly there was an earthquake, so violent that the foundations of the prison were shaken; and immediately all the doors were opened and everyone’s chains were unfastened. 27 When the jailer woke up and saw the prison doors wide open, he drew his sword and was about to kill himself, since he supposed that the prisoners had escaped. 28 But Paul shouted in a loud voice, “Do not harm yourself, for we are all here.” 29 The jailer called for lights, and rushing in, he fell down trembling before Paul and Silas. 30 Then he brought them outside and said, “Sirs, what must I do to be saved?” 31 They answered, “Believe on the Lord Jesus, and you will be saved, you and your household.” 32 They spoke the word of the Lord to him and to all who were in his house. 33 At the same hour of the night he took them and washed their wounds; then he and his entire family were baptized without delay. 34 He brought them up into the house and set food before them; and he and his entire household rejoiced that he had become a believer in God.

 

 
 
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                It is the Seventh Sunday of Easter—although one could choose to observe the Day of Ascension (the reading for Ascension is Acts 1:1-11). The days of Jesus’ appearances is nearly complete. Pentecost is on the near horizon. The reading from Acts 1 for the Day of Ascension sets the foundation for what is to come. Jesus stands with the disciples, preparing to leave them. He gives them a commission, telling them that once the Spirit comes upon them, they are to take the gospel to the ends of the earth, beginning in Jerusalem, and then moving out from there through Judea and Samaria, and then from there to the ends of the earth. In prior readings, we have seen how the gospel has been moving outward from Jerusalem in the power of the Holy Spirit. We’ve seen the message taken to Samaria (Acts 8) and then to a Gentile community (Acts 11). We’ve witnessed the call of Paul (Acts 9) and then his crossing into Europe that results in the conversion of Lydia and her household in Philippi (Acts 16).
One thing you notice in reading the Book of Acts is that the way forward for the Gospel often requires those called to proclaim the Gospel to break through barriers. There is no easy pathway, and sometimes they have to be nudged along, so they can be in a position to proclaim the Gospel. If Paul is any indication, missionary work can be a bit complicated, filled with both setbacks and successes. In fact, Paul seems to get himself in trouble on a regular basis, and so it is with his visit to Philippi. In the reading from Acts 16 for this week, we pick up where we left off last week. Paul remains in Philippi, perhaps still residing at the home of Lydia. When the story picks up, Paul and Silas—and the rest of the mission team (note the use of the word we in verse 16)—are walking toward the place of prayer down by the riverside. As they make their way to the place of prayer, they are joined by another person. This person is a slave girl known for her prophetic powers. For some reason, she starts telling everyone that Paul and Silas are “slaves of the Most High.” This reference to them being slaves of God is important because the one doing the preaching is a slave. The assumption then is that if one proclaims a divine message, one must be a slave to that god/power.  She is a slave, so they must be slaves as well. While she calls attention to them, apparently, it’s not the kind of attention that wanted. Since this happened several times over a period of days, we’re told that Paul was annoyed by her declarations. Paul stops and tells the spirit possessing her, the spirit that is proclaiming the message that they bring the word of salvation from the Most High, to leave. Such is what happens. The spirit that possessed her, the spirit that gave her the ability to reveal things about people, is now gone. That doesn’t make her owners happy. They have just lost their livelihood. This is a good example of the economic effects of religion. So, they are thrown into prison, without trial (something that is not allowed for citizens like Paul). This is the context in which we read the remainder of the story.
Note that Paul and Silas are imprisoned because they have infringed on the economic power of certain individuals. These people who are upset with Paul are concerned not about theology but about money. This woman, who was their slave, had earned them a lot of money. If she lost that power, she was of little or no worth to them. She was a commodity to her owners. Her message may have annoyed Paul, but she had revealed the truth, and that didn’t sit well with the rest of the community.
It is interesting that the charges laid against Paul and Silas is that they were Jews who were teaching things that weren’t appropriate for Romans. This represents in part the ongoing rejection and stigmatization of the Jews. In this case, the charge that they were Jews who taught things inappropriate for Romans may have been rooted in ignorance of Judaism. After all, there wasn’t a large enough community to start a synagogue. With the charges laid against them, the magistrates had them stripped, beaten, and thrown into the innermost jail cell (maximum security). Was it the religious component or the economic one? You be the judge.  
 
So, we find Paul and Silas in jail. They are not only in jail, but they have shackles on them. You would have thought they were mass murderers, but such is not the case. It’s here, in prison, that we witness the power of hymn-singing. As Paul and Silas sit there in their cell, they begin to sing hymns to God, and Luke tells us that the other prisoners were listening. They were paying attention to the songs. As Paul and Silas sang, an earthquake hit, opening the cells and knocking off the shackles. Everyone in the jail was now free to flee, but they didn’t. They stayed put. More about that later in this reflection, so we can stay with hymn-singing.
This word about hymn-singing is enticing to me. That’s because singing hymns has always been a powerful element in my worship experiences.  Whether new or old, as long as they are singable, they carry power. I don’t know what hymns Paul and Silas sang (I don’t think there were any Wesley or Brian Wren hymns in that hymnal), whatever they were singing had a powerful effect on their situation. Whatever they sang had a liberating effect. It seems to be the precursor to their freedom. Willie James Jennings connects worship, prayer, and singing to freedom and the concerns of those who have experienced torture and imprisonment.

Praying and singing join us to tortured and chained bodies, both past and present, and to the real pressure placed on disciples’ bodies as they look toward God. Praying and singing are acts of joining that weave our voices and words with the desperate of this world who cry out to God day and night. Each time we gather in the name of Jesus and lift our voices, this point of reference should shape our reverence and drive us to see and learn and know and change the situations of those who suffer especially in that holy name. Each time we pray and sing we are also joined to the shouts of joy and praise to a God who saves and delivers and invites us to take hold of divine power by faith. [Acts: Belief, p. 164].

In other words, worship should connect us to those around us who suffer. Paul and Silas’ experience of prison connected them to Jesus’ experiences as he approached death. They would be freed, but it was in the midst of suffering that they worshipped God and found liberation.
When the jailer made his way into the cells, he assumed that the prisoners would have escaped. That’s only natural. If you have the opportunity to be free, wouldn’t you take it? The implications for the jailer were much different. If his prisoners escaped, he would be held responsible. The better part of valor would be to take his own life. He was about to do so when Paul spoke up. Paul cried out to him, begging him not to harm himself, because everyone was still in the jail, including the other prisoners who had no reason to trust in the God of Paul, and yet they put themselves into Paul’s hands. All because of some hymn-singing.
Now, the jailer was over-joyed. Although he hadn’t heard the hymn-singing, he was drawn into this worship experience punctuated by an earthquake. That led to a sermon, as the jailer asked how he might be made whole (saved). With the question asked, Paul shared the gospel with him and his household, and the Philippian jailer responded positively. Paul baptized the jailer and his family, but notice that before the baptism takes place, the jailer tends to the wounds inflicted on Paul and Silas. These are the wounds inflicted by the magistrates, in response to Paul’s act of liberating a woman who had been turned into a lucrative economic tool. There was healing and liberation all around, and mixed in was a time of worship featuring hymn-singing. So, let us sing to God with boldness, and as we sing may we be woven into the healing work of God in the world.   
               

 

Come on Over – A Lectionary Reflection for Easter 6C (Acts 16)

Acts 16:9-15 NewRevised Standard Version (NRSV)

9 During the night Paul had a vision: there stood a man of Macedonia pleading with him and saying, “Come over to Macedonia and help us.” 10 When he had seen the vision, we immediately tried to cross over to Macedonia, being convinced that God had called us to proclaim the good news to them.

11 We set sail from Troas and took a straight course to Samothrace, the following day to Neapolis, 12 and from there to Philippi, which is a leading city of the district of Macedonia and a Roman colony. We remained in this city for some days. 13 On the sabbath day we went outside the gate by the river, where we supposed there was a place of prayer; and we sat down and spoke to the women who had gathered there. 14 A certain woman named Lydia, a worshiper of God, was listening to us; she was from the city of Thyatira and a dealer in purple cloth. The Lord opened her heart to listen eagerly to what was said by Paul. 15 When she and her household were baptized, she urged us, saying, “If you have judged me to be faithful to the Lord, come and stay at my home.” And she prevailed upon us.

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                The story found in the book of Acts begins with a commission in Acts 1:8. That commission involves proclaiming the Gospel in the power of the Holy Spirit, beginning in Jerusalem, and from there, moving outward through Judea and Samaria to the ends of the earth. The movement forward comes in fits and starts and requires guidance and regular nudges on the part of the Spirit. In Acts 9, Paul, the persecutor of the church, is called to preach, with Gentiles as his target audience. Then, in Acts 11, Peter defends his decision to go to the home of Cornelius, opening up the church to Gentiles, without qualification. That is, he baptized them without first requiring the males to be circumcised. In this action, the path forward that Paul would take is set. During this Easter season, where we focus on readings from the Book of Acts in place of the regular readings from the Hebrew Bible, the lectionary jumps from the story of Peter’s visit to Cornelius to Paul’s call to preach in Macedonia. There’s a lot of territory that is traversed between Acts 11 and Acts 16, one of which is the commissioning of Paul to take up his missionary journeys. Another event is the Jerusalem Council, at which time Paul and Barnabas explain their mission and make peace with the Jerusalem leaders on what is to be required of the new Gentile converts. When we come to Acts 16, Paul has headed out on his second missionary journey. He and Barnabas have parted ways, and Paul is joined by first Silas and then Timothy.
                The lectionary reading for the Sixth Sunday of Easter (Year C) begins in verse 9 of chapter 16. If we go back a few verses, we learn that Paul had been forbidden to preach in Asia. Paul and his companions had been attempting to go to Bithynia, but “the Spirit of Jesus did not allow them,” so they went down to Troas. That’s where we pick things up.
Now before we get to verse 9 of chapter 16, we should take note of the message that in the Book of Acts, the Spirit is the driving force in the emerging mission of the church. In this case, the Spirit is specifically linked to Jesus. It is the Spirit of Jesus who is guiding this next step in the church’s mission, and the Spirit has a specific vision of where things should go.
                When we come to verse 9, we find Paul in Troas, on the Aegean coast. He’s sleeping, not knowing what he is supposed to do. He’s been prevented from going where he intended to go, so where to next? As he slept, he had a vision—God often speaks to people in visions in Acts, sometimes they come when people are awake and sometimes when they’re asleep. In this vision a “man of Macedonia,” speaks to Paul, saying “Come on over to Macedonia.” To this point, Paul’s ministry had been focused on “Asia,” what we would call today Anatolia or Turkey. In the story being told by Luke, the Spirit is ready to move into a new field and to cross into Macedonia would mean crossing into Europe. So, things are moving forward, toward that goal of reaching the ends of the earth.
                With this vision of the “man from Macedonia” calling Paul to come on over as their guide, the missionary group sets sail from Troas and heads for Samothrace, Neapolis, and finally to Philippi, which, according to Luke, was the “chief city of Macedonia” and a Roman colony. The reference to Philippi being a Roman colony suggests that it is a rather recently planted city, having been settled—or in this case probably re-settled—by Roman soldiers and their families. Here’s where things get interesting. Since it was Paul’s custom, as a Christian who also was a Jew, to worship on the Sabbath, he went looking for a gathering of Jews to pray with. Normally, that would involve looking for the local synagogue. That proved difficult in Philippi because there was no synagogue. What Paul did find was a gathering of women, who had gone down to the river outside the gates of the city to pray. As was his custom as well, he not only prayed with them, but he shared the Gospel with them. Among this group of women was a “worshipper of God” named Lydia. The reference to her being a worshipper of God, or God-fearer, like Cornelius, suggests that she was likely not Jewish, but one who embraced Judaism without fully converting. She was also a successful businesswoman. We’re told that she sold purple cloth, which was expensive. It was the kind of cloth used to make clothes for the wealthy and privileged. It was to this group of women, that Paul preached. They responded positively so that Paul baptized them.
                Having heard Paul preach, and having been baptized by him (along with what may have been her household), he extends to him an offer of hospitality. She says to him: “If you have judged me to be faithful to the Lord, come and stay at my home.” Paul couldn’t say no. He took up her offer, gratefully, I would expect.
                Often, we think of the early Christians as being poor and marginalized. Often, they were, but not all of them. In fact, we see in the Corinthian letter signs of socio-economic divisions. Such was not the case here. Lydia was likely rather wealthy, but she used her wealth in this case to benefit the ministry of Paul.  In other words, she became a partner in that ministry. The other element of this story is the fact that Paul was willing to worship with and share the message with women. We know that Paul could write instructions for women to be silent. He could also proclaim that in Christ there is neither male nor female (Gal. 3:28). In this case, we see Paul expanding the circle to include not only Gentiles but women, who become partners in ministry.
                So begins Paul’s ministry in Europe. “A man from Macedonia” invited him over to help them, but it was a woman from Thyatira, who was staying in Philippi, who would be the first person to receive the Gospel. It’s a bit like Mary Magdalene, who is the first to receive the message of the resurrection (Jn 20). And, as Alice Connors notes, regarding Lydia, “there are no heroic deeds attributed to Lydia, no wrestling an angel to receive a blessing. She went about her life, praying and listening, selling and leading” [Connor, Fierce, p. 162]. Yes, she went about her life, in fairly normal fashion, but as she did, she became a leader in the church as it spread into Europe.  All of this began in the waters of baptism, which in the book of Acts are transformative. This was true of Cornelius and his household. It was also true of Lydia and her household. So, “shall we gather at the river, where bright angel feet have trod, with its crystal tide forever flowing by the throne of God?” [Robert Lowry in Chalice Hymnal, p. 701].

 

Who Am I to Hinder God? Lectionary Reflection for Easter 5C (Acts 11)

Acts 11:1-18 New Revised Standard Version (NRSV)
 

11 Now the apostles and the believers who were in Judea heard that the Gentiles had also accepted the word of God. 2 So when Peter went up to Jerusalem, the circumcised believers criticized him, 3 saying, “Why did you go to uncircumcised men and eat with them?” 4 Then Peter began to explain it to them, step by step, saying, 5 “I was in the city of Joppa praying, and in a trance I saw a vision. There was something like a large sheet coming down from heaven, being lowered by its four corners; and it came close to me. 6 As I looked at it closely I saw four-footed animals, beasts of prey, reptiles, and birds of the air. 7 I also heard a voice saying to me, ‘Get up, Peter; kill and eat.’ 8 But I replied, ‘By no means, Lord; for nothing profane or unclean has ever entered my mouth.’ 9 But a second time the voice answered from heaven, ‘What God has made clean, you must not call profane.’ 10 This happened three times; then everything was pulled up again to heaven. 11 At that very moment three men, sent to me from Caesarea, arrived at the house where we were. 12 The Spirit told me to go with them and not to make a distinction between them and us. These six brothers also accompanied me, and we entered the man’s house. 13 He told us how he had seen the angel standing in his house and saying, ‘Send to Joppa and bring Simon, who is called Peter; 14 he will give you a message by which you and your entire household will be saved.’ 15 And as I began to speak, the Holy Spirit fell upon them just as it had upon us at the beginning. 16 And I remembered the word of the Lord, how he had said, ‘John baptized with water, but you will be baptized with the Holy Spirit.’ 17 If then God gave them the same gift that he gave us when we believed in the Lord Jesus Christ, who was I that I could hinder God?” 18 When they heard this, they were silenced. And they praised God, saying, “Then God has given even to the Gentiles the repentance that leads to life.”

 
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                Who am I to hinder God? If God says something or someone is clean, then who am I to say the opposite? Of course, we do hinder God. We stand in the way of God’s vision for the world. God opens doors and we slam them shut. God opens up the table to those who are not of our community and we set up fences. Despite this intransigence, sometimes God gets our attention, and we discover a different path—one that brings blessings rather than curses, healing rather than wounds.
                Peter had a vision. It had to do with appropriate dietary concerns. In this vision, which is first described in Acts 10, Peter is on the roof praying. It’s near lunchtime. He’s probably hungry. A sheet is lowered from the heavens. It’s filled with food items that he is prohibited from partaking. He hears the command to “kill and eat.” Peter responds, with deep piety, “no, I can’t eat these things. They’re unclean. Nothing profane or unclean has ever entered my mouth.” The response from heaven is clear and concise, though it is repeated three times (just to make sure Peter gets the point): “What God has made clean, you must not call profane.” Then there was a knock at the door.
When it comes to dietary restrictions, there’s nothing wrong with them. Judaism has them. Islam has them. So do other religious traditions. They often serve as boundary markers, helping define a community’s existence. Christianity may not have many food restrictions (if any), but we have our ways of defining ourselves. But what if God wishes to open things up a bit. Are we ready for it? Of course, the stories of Acts 10 and 11 aren’t really about eating shellfish, crustaceans, and reptiles. I don’t know whether Peter added lobster to his menu, but he was soon to learn a more important lesson that had to do with those whom God was ready to welcome into the realm of God and on what basis.  
 
That vision led to Peter going to the home of Cornelius, a Roman soldier and a Gentile. He had connected the dots between the vision and the knock on the door and went with the three representatives of Cornelius while taking along with him six of his own companions. When he arrives at the home of Cornelius, Peter preaches. As he is preaching, the Holy Spirit falls on Cornelius and his household, as demonstrated by the sign of speaking in tongues, just as occurred on the day of Pentecost. Since this enduement of the Spirit occurs while Peter is preaching, what is Peter going to do? He does the only thing he could do; he baptizes them and welcomes them into the church. You can read the full story in Acts 10.
                The story we read in Acts 11 is a summary report of the events that took place in Joppa and then at the home of Cornelius. Peter recounts the story that begins in Joppa, where Peter was residing after the church was scattered by Paul’s persecution of the church. Not everyone fled Jerusalem, which remains headquarters. Peter is summoned back to Jerusalem so he can explain himself. More specifically, it is the circumcision party that is demanding answers. On whose authority had he gone to the home of Cornelius? Why did he baptize them? It’s not that they opposed Gentiles joining the community, but there were hoops to be jumped through before you get to baptism. That is, you have to be made clean before you get the final seal of approval (baptism), and that included affirming Jewish dietary rules and the circumcision of males, at least that seems to be the case here. These questions shouldn’t surprise Peter since he needed a sign from heaven before he traveled to Cornelius’ home. This story serves as a reminder that up to this point, the church remained a sect of Judaism that followed the teachings of Jesus. There were, of course, the Samaritans, but they were essentially estranged members of the family. They were more easily accepted. Now that Peter had gone to Cornelius’ house and baptized them, another boundary marker was being crossed.
So, Peter recounts the story of his vision and the encounter with Cornelius. He makes the point that he remembered the word of the Lord: “John baptized with water, but you will be baptized with the Holy Spirit.” In this case, Cornelius and his household had been baptized with the Holy Spirit, and so the water was simply a confirmation of what God had already done. With that, Peter’s response was simple: “who was I that I could hinder God?” How do you respond to that? If God is for it, then how can you be against it? Gary Charles takes note of this question, writing:

That question assumes that God is at work in the world to bring about God’s purposes. Though religious tradition plays an essential role, it does not restrict God from building upon and even moving beyond tradition. Another key assumption in the question is that God is still at work, and God’s purpose often extends far beyond the horizon of longstanding tradition. [Joel B. Green, Thomas G. Long, Luke A. Powery & Cynthia L. Rigby. Connections: A Lectionary Commentary forPreaching and Worship: 2 (Kindle Locations 7895-7897). Presbyterian Publishing. Kindle Edition.]

If God is still at work and is able and willing to go beyond tradition, then who are we to hinder that work? Of course, we can’t go willy-nilly throwing off traditions just for the sake of throwing off traditions. It takes discernment, itself a gift of the Spirit, to know when to hold them or fold them. The Spirit bore witness in this case by providing a sign that demonstrated to Peter that he could baptize them, and apparently, from the accusations against him, he ate with them as well. If he ate with them, then he ate what they ate. Everything was now clean.
There is a piece of the puzzle that can be easily missed, but which is important. Peter notes that “these six brothers also accompanied me.” Peter didn’t go to Cornelius’ house alone. He took six companions. The folks in Jerusalem didn’t have to take his word alone. He had confirmation, maybe not of the vision, but of the actions on the part of the Holy Spirit. They could bear witness to the fact that the Holy Spirit fell on the household of Cornelius. They observed the filling of the people with the Spirit, which included speaking in tongues, just as on the day of Pentecost. They could back up Peter’s story, just in case members of the Jerusalem community had their doubts about Peter’s veracity.
So, where is God showing offering visions of a new way of being the church? What boundaries are being crossed by the Spirit? Women have looked to this story as evidence that cultural mores that limited their place in the church have been set aside. More recently those of us who have come to a realization that the barriers to inclusion of LGBTQ persons need to be lifted have found encouragement from this set of stories. If the Holy Spirit is at work in their lives, who are we who are straight to get in the way of God?  Who else might be standing on the outside of our communities, that God would want us to embrace?
In the case of the critics of Peter’s actions, according to Luke, they were brought to silence. After all, who was he to hinder God? With that, the critics had no response, as it was clear that God had welcomed these Gentiles (and those who followed) into the fold. With this understanding, they all rejoiced.

Picture Attribution:  ngelico, fra, ca. 1400-1455. Peter Preaching – [Lectionary selection, Fifth Sunday of Easter, Year C], from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. http://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=47861 [retrieved May 12, 2019]. Original source: http://www.yorckproject.de.