Category: Lectionary

Crossing the River – Common Lectionary Reflection, Pentecost 21

Joshua 3:7-17 New Revised Standard Version (NRSV)

⁷The Lord said to Joshua, “This day I will begin to exalt you in the sight of all Israel, so that they may know that I will be with you as I was with Moses. ⁸You are the one who shall command the priests who bear the ark of the covenant, ‘When you come to the edge of the waters of the Jordan, you shall stand still in the Jordan.’” ⁹Joshua then said to the Israelites, “Draw near and hear the words of the Lord your God.” ¹⁰Joshua said, “By this you shall know that among you is the living God who without fail will drive out from before you the Canaanites, Hittites, Hivites, Perizzites, Girgashites, Amorites, and Jebusites: ¹¹the ark of the covenant of the Lord of all the earth is going to pass before you into the Jordan. ¹²So now select twelve men from the tribes of Israel, one from each tribe. ¹³When the soles of the feet of the priests who bear the ark of the Lord, the Lord of all the earth, rest in the waters of the Jordan, the waters of the Jordan flowing from above shall be cut off; they shall stand in a single heap.”

¹⁴When the people set out from their tents to cross over the Jordan, the priests bearing the ark of the covenant were in front of the people. ¹⁵Now the Jordan overflows all its banks throughout the time of harvest. So when those who bore the ark had come to the Jordan, and the feet of the priests bearing the ark were dipped in the edge of the water, ¹⁶the waters flowing from above stood still, rising up in a single heap far off at Adam, the city that is beside Zarethan, while those flowing toward the sea of the Arabah, the Dead Sea, were wholly cut off. Then the people crossed over opposite Jericho. ¹⁷While all Israel were crossing over on dry ground, the priests who bore the ark of the covenant of the Lord stood on dry ground in the middle of the Jordan, until the entire nation finished crossing over the Jordan.

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Rivers and other bodies of water play a significant role in the biblical story. Crossing rivers often signifies an important transition in the life of God’s people. Jacob had his wrestling match with the angel of God at the ford of the Jabbok River, an encounter with the divine on the eve of his reunion with Esau, a reunion that required the crossing of a river (Gen. 32-33). A body of water needed to be crossed so that the people of Israel, led by Moses, could escape slavery (Exodus 14). Each of these stories play a role in God’s ongoing covenant relationship with Israel. The same is true in many ways with the prophets Elijah and Elisha, who called for Israel to remain true to its calling. A crossing of the river plays a role in the passing of the prophetic mantle from Elijah to Elisha (2 Kings 2).

The people of Israel, now led by Joshua, must cross the Jordan to inhabit the land that was given to them by God so that the people could fulfill their covenant responsibilities. As we saw in the preceding reading from Deuteronomy 34, God allowed Moses to climb the mountain and look into the Promised Land. He had led the people across Sinai and served as the mediator between the people and God, as God formed them into a new people, one that was no longer defined by slavery. He did his job, often under significant duress. It would have been nice to cross over into the Promised Land, but that would not be his destiny. Instead, that the responsibility and opportunity to lead the people across the river and into the Promised Land was given to Joshua, Moses’ protégé.

Yahweh said to Joshua “This day I will begin to exalt you in the sight of all Israel, so that they may know that I will be with you as I was with Moses.” God makes clear to Joshua, that there would be an unmistakable sign of God’s intentions, so that the people would know that Joshua was God’s chosen leader for the people as they entered the land of promise.

I find this passage to be intriguing. When taken together with Deuteronomy 34, it serves as an opportunity to reflect on times of transition, including pastoral transitions. Perhaps it is because that I’m getting closer to retirement age, that this passage speaks to me. There are times when we fill the role of Moses, and other times we take up the role of Joshua. Moses is the one who leads the people to the river, but does not cross over. Joshua, on the other hand, gets to take the community across river and into new opportunities. My sense is that many of us will fulfill both roles at some point in our lives, and so these two readings, one from Deuteronomy 34 and one from Joshua 3 speak to our own experiences with God and the communities we are part of.

While Joshua offers an important word to those moments of transition that we all experience, it also comes to us with a shadow hovering over it. I would be remiss if I did not take note of the implications of the conquest of Canaan, undertaken at God’s behest, under Joshua’s leadership. In this very passage we have a word about ethnic cleansing. God will go before the people of Israel and drive out the inhabitants, so that Israel can take possession of the land. Yes, this may be the land of promise for Israel, but it is not uninhabited land. Here is the biblical foundation for Manifest Destiny. This land which I call home has been depicted as a Promised Land, the inhabitants of which would need to be driven out so that the chosen ones—primarily Europeans—could take possession. We need to acknowledge this reality, and reject it as coming from God. Ethnic cleansing is not to be celebrated, and it cannot be justified on the basis of scripture. Yes, it’s there, clear as daylight, in Joshua, but we must say no to it, and embrace a different vision, one that welcomes the stranger and lives in harmony with the other. That’s in scripture as well. So, as much as I like the basic story of liberation and restoration that we find present in Deuteronomy and Joshua, this part of the story needs to be acknowledged and rejected, so that we do not feel justified in doing the same.

Gateway to Freedom monument – Detroit River

Having acknowledged the shadow that hangs over this passage, what word do we hear that speaks to us? Crossing the river is an act of faith. The people of Israel are camped at the edge of the river. They can see across to the other side. They may have heard stories of dangers ahead, but they’ve also heard that the land is theirs for the taking (Josh. 2:22-24). The one who stands before them as their leader is young and untested. Moses is dead and buried. To cross the river under the leadership of Joshua is an act of faith, but God promises a sign.

Joshua gathers the people to the edge of the river and gives them instructions, as received from Yahweh. They’re to select representatives, one from each tribe, perhaps to serve as a council of elders, as they cross into the new land of promise. They will join Joshua in leadership. Then, Joshua commands the priests to take the Ark of the Covenant and walk ahead of the people. When the priests bearing this Ark reach the water’s edge they are to step into the river. As they do this the waters will part, just as at the sea when the people of Israel escaped slavery in Egypt, so that the people can cross over on dry land. So, at the direction of Joshua, the priests move into the center of the river and stay there until everyone passes through the waters and into the Promised Land.

The symbolism of the Ark of the Covenant is important. It serves as a tangible sign of the presence of God who goes with them. Remember that in the Exodus story, Aaron created a golden calf as a representation of Yahweh. This was not acceptable. The Ark, on the other hand, was not seen as a graven image. It did not provide a physical representation of Yahweh. However, it did serve as a sign of God’s presence in their midst. It was a symbol of God’s leadership, and thus of Joshua’s as well. As they took the journey into the land, they needed to know that they did not go alone. With this we may sing the third stanza of “Guide Me, O Thou Great Jehovah” (William Williams, 1745).

When I tread the verge of Jordan,

bid my anxious fears subside;

Bear me through the swelling current;

land me safe on Canaan’s side;

Songs of praises, songs of praises,

I will ever give to thee, I will ever give to thee.

Robert Cornwall is the Pastor of Central Woodward Christian Church in Troy, Michigan and is the author of a number of books including Marriage in Interesting Times (Energion, 2016) and Freedom in Covenant (Wipf and Stock, 2015).

Dry Bones and the Breath of Life – Lectionary Reflection for Lent 5A (Ezekiel)

Ezekiel 37:1-14 New Revised Standard Version (NRSV)

37 The hand of the Lord came upon me, and he brought me out by the spirit of the Lord and set me down in the middle of a valley; it was full of bones. ²He led me all around them; there were very many lying in the valley, and they were very dry. ³He said to me, “Mortal, can these bones live?” I answered, “O Lord God, you know.” ⁴Then he said to me, “Prophesy to these bones, and say to them: O dry bones, hear the word of the Lord. ⁵Thus says the Lord God to these bones: I will cause breath to enter you, and you shall live. ⁶I will lay sinews on you, and will cause flesh to come upon you, and cover you with skin, and put breath in you, and you shall live; and you shall know that I am the Lord.” ⁷So I prophesied as I had been commanded; and as I prophesied, suddenly there was a noise, a rattling, and the bones came together, bone to its bone. ⁸I looked, and there were sinews on them, and flesh had come upon them, and skin had covered them; but there was no breath in them. ⁹Then he said to me, “Prophesy to the breath, prophesy, mortal, and say to the breath: Thus says the Lord God: Come from the four winds, O breath, and breathe upon these slain, that they may live.” ¹⁰I prophesied as he commanded me, and the breath came into them, and they lived, and stood on their feet, a vast multitude. ¹¹Then he said to me, “Mortal, these bones are the whole house of Israel. They say, ‘Our bones are dried up, and our hope is lost; we are cut off completely.’ ¹²Therefore prophesy, and say to them, Thus says the Lord God: I am going to open your graves, and bring you up from your graves, O my people; and I will bring you back to the land of Israel. ¹³And you shall know that I am the Lord, when I open your graves, and bring you up from your graves, O my people. ¹⁴I will put my spirit within you, and you shall live, and I will place you on your own soil; then you shall know that I, the Lord, have spoken and will act, says the Lord.”

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The Babylonian exile was a tragic, and yet fruitful event in the life of the people of Israel. It was tragic, because the nation was torn apart. Yet, the exile also gave Judah an opportunity to rediscover its identity as a people. Much of what we know as the Old Testament emerged in the context of the exile. While, it was a challenging time for the people of Judah, who found it difficult to live in hope of a new and better day.

Ezekiel was a prophet who arose in the context of the exile, and he spoke words that chided the people when they were unfaithful, but he also shared words that offed hope of a new day, when the people of Israel would experience restoration. One of the most powerful words of hope to be found in Ezekiel, if not all of scripture, is this passage from Ezekiel 37. Can dry bones live? That is the question of the hour. It is the question that YHWH asked of the prophet after delivering him to a plain covered with dry, lifeless bones. Can these bones live? All that Ezekiel can answer is: “you know.” That is, Ezekiel has no idea how dry, lifeless bones could ever be restored to life. Only God knows, and it’s possible that as the conversation started, Ezekiel had his doubts.

If Ezekiel has doubts, God has a plan. There’s a reason why God brought Ezekiel out to this plain covered with dry bones. God wanted Ezekiel to better understand his prophetic calling. God wanted him to preach, to share the word, so that Israel might once again live. This is the word given to Ezekiel: “say to the bones: “hear the word of the Lord.” I think we should let that phrase sink into our hearts and minds. “Hear the Word of the Lord.” Remember the message of John’s prologue, which declared that the Word (Logos) was in the beginning with God and was God, and that all things came into being through him, and “in him was life” (Jn. 1:1-4). The Word of the Lord is life, and if Ezekiel will preach to the bones, then God will breathe life into them, so that the bones will know who the LORD is.

Ezekiel does as God asks, and then witnesses God’s fulfillment of the promise made to Ezekiel. The bones begin to rattle and come together to form skeletons (we could use a bit of Disney animation here). On these skeletons flesh appears. But, the text of Ezekiel says that to this point “there was no breath in them.” It would be fitting to go back to Genesis 2, the second creation story, where God forms the first human from the dust of the earth. The basic building blocks are there, but life isn’t yet present. Life awaits the breath of God. As we read in Genesis, God “breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and the man became a living being” (Gen. 2:7). In Ezekiel, God tells the prophet to “prophesy to the breath, saying: “Thus says the Lord God: Come from the four winds, O breath, and breathe upon these slain, that they may live” (Ez. 37:9). When Ezekiel complied, the winds came forth, and filled the lifeless bodies with breath. Of course, the Hebrew word, like the Greek word, for breath is also the word for Spirit (ruach/pneuma). In the biblical story, life isn’t separate from the presence of God’s spirit.

It is important that we recognize that Ezekiel isn’t speaking about individuals. He has in mind a people, the people of Israel, who have experienced the devastation of conquest and the humiliation of exile. Not everyone in the nation of Judah found themselves in Babylon, but whether in Babylon or in the land of Israel, the people of Judah had lost their sense of identity. It was as if they had died. The Spirit of God seemed absent from the people. Now, it needs to be said that the Spirit of God wasn’t truly absent, but the people seemed disconnected from the life-giving Spirit of God. The presence of the Spirit can be seen in the work of the prophets, including Ezekiel.

This is a well-known passage of scripture. It’s vivid in its descriptiveness. The valley of dry bones coming back to life; it’s a powerful image. But what does it have to do with us? What word does God have for the church in the 21^st century, a church that is beginning to see itself in terms of exile. We seem to be a collection of dry, lifeless bones scattered across the plain. I hear it all the time. I hear it from colleagues who bemoan what appears to be the prolonged death of the church. I hear it from church members, who remember the glory days, when Sunday was marked by church attendance. Churches were full. The congregation I now serve is relatively small, but once it was a grand and powerful congregation. Its pastor was nationally recognized (he served as President of the Federal Council of Churches). The church sat on Detroit’s “Piety Row.” Times changed, the church began a slow decline, and it eventually moved to the suburbs. For a long time, it clung to its former heritage, but the reality is that the congregation had gone into exile. This congregation isn’t alone in this, even if a congregation hasn’t moved from its original space. The promise here, of course, is that the exiles will return to the Land, to the soil, upon which the people had once been a nation of some importance. It’s not likely that our congregations will return to their original glory, but the spirit of exile can give way to a new spirit of hope and service. We can take root in our new realities, and be witnesses to God’s gracious presence. The dry bones can hear the Word of God and come to life, filled with the Spirit, so as to become signs of God’s presence in the world.

Perhaps the key to restoration is attending to the Word of God. I speak here to my more “progressive/liberal” colleagues, who often struggle with Scripture. Yes, Scripture can be difficult to navigate. It says things that we may find problematic. After all, it emerged in a very different world, and yet it does have something powerful to say, if we’re willing to listen. While critical scholarship is essential to getting the context straight, if we begin and end there, we may end up missing a Word from God. Walter Brueggemann suggests that we would be better of moving on from focusing our attention on questions of historicity, and focus more on the overarching narrative that is Scripture. He speaks of the Exodus story here, but I think it holds for other conversations. Of the biblical narrative, he writes that we might see it as “a script that is waiting to be performed; it is always being given new performance, even in our own time . . .” [Rebuilding the Foundations, p. 193]. With that in mind we can get a sense of the overarching message of this narrative. Kelton Cobb writes that “at the core of the biblical narrative is the story of displacement—of having wandered a long way from home, and longing to return. This is the underlying plot of being cast out of Eden, of being foreigners in Egypt, of the journey to the promised land, of the long of exiles in Babylon to return to the land of their fathers” [Feasting on the Word, 126].

It is this narrative of exile and return that defines our own realities, including as churches. When we feel as if we’re in exile, we long to return home. That might be why there is such interest in genealogies. We want to know where we belong, so we can return to our homeland. When I went to England, during my sabbatical, I had this feeling of connecting to my roots. This was my homeland. When I went to Christ Church Cathedral and experienced Evensong, it was as if I had come home. So, I understand this longing for home. It is a longing that defines salvation. As Augustine wrote in The Confessions, the restless heart will not find rest until it rests in God. Is this not our own desire? Do we not want to find our homeland? For Judah, it was the Land, for us, it is the realm of God.

So, what do we make of this powerful story? What word does it have for us? At one level this might be a good word about the power of preaching, even if our culture doesn’t seem to value preaching in the same way it once did, there is her a call to bring the Word so that the Spirit might move. When we hear the word “prophesy,” a number images might come to mind, most of which don’t seem to apply to those of us who enter pulpits to preach. But, in many ways that is what we’re called to do. We’re asked to bring a Word from God to a community. Ron Allen and Clark Williamson write that “preaching her is the means of restoration. Through preaching the breath of God enters the bones. An implication is that pastorally sensitive prophetic preaching can play a key role in revitalizing community” [Preaching the Old Testament, p. 37].

This is the word given to Israel, and by extension to the Church: “I will put my spirit within you, and you shall live, and I will place you on your own soil; then you shall know that I, the LORD, have spoken and will act, says the LORD.” The church in the West is experiencing a reality that it hasn’t faced in centuries. No longer supported by government or even cultural establishment, it must fend for itself, or depend on the Spirit of God. Many congregations feel as if their bones are “very dry.” They feel as life has been drained from them, but here is a word of hope. Say to the bones – Live. Call for the wind of the Spirit to breathe life into the bones of our congregations. We may be in exile, but the realm of God is there in front of us.
Picture attribution: Elkan, Benno, 1877-1960. Ezekiel in the Valley of the Dry Bones, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. http://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=55841 [retrieved March 27, 2017]. Original source: http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Collantes,_Francisco_-_The_Vision_of_Ezekiel_-_1630.jpg.

Is God With Us? – Lectionary Reflection – Lent 3A (Exodus)

Exodus 17:1-7 Common English Bible (CEB)

17 The whole Israelite community broke camp and set out from the Sin desert to continue their journey, as the Lord commanded. They set up their camp at Rephidim, but there was no water for the people to drink.²The people argued with Moses and said, “Give us water to drink.” Moses said to them, “Why are you arguing with me? Why are you testing the Lord?” ³But the people were very thirsty for water there, and they complained to Moses, “Why did you bring us out of Egypt to kill us, our children, and our livestock with thirst?” ⁴So Moses cried out to the Lord, “What should I do with this people? They are getting ready to stone me.” ⁵The Lord said to Moses, “Go on ahead of the people, and take some of Israel’s elders with you. Take in your hand the shepherd’s rod that you used to strike the Nile River, and go. ⁶I’ll be standing there in front of you on the rock at Horeb. Hit the rock. Water will come out of it, and the people will be able to drink.” Moses did so while Israel’s elders watched.⁷He called the place Massah and Meribah, because the Israelites argued with and tested the Lord, asking, “Is the Lord really with us or not?”

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In Advent we heard the message of Emmanuel—God is with Us—in Lent we hear the question—“Is the Lord really with us or not?” The Advent declaration appears in the revelation to Joseph that the child of his betrothed was conceived of the Holy Spirit and that God would save the people from their sins through him (Matt. 1:18-25). The Lenten question is raised during a rather tense encounter between Moses and the people of Israel as they wandered across the desert. The murmuring or complaining of the people of Israel is a constant theme in Exodus. The people cried out to God, seeking deliverance from slavery. Now that they are free, they have other complaints, and the person who bears the brunt of these complaints is Moses. A chapter earlier, the complaint had to do with food. Now it’s a lack of water that concerns the people. You have to feel for Moses, because he has been put in an untenable position. He had claimed that he was acting on behalf of God, after demonstrating God’s power, the people agreed to follow him. Whether they understood the full ramifications of this decision is unknown. Of course, had we been among the people affected, we probably would be complaining as well. After all, water is essential to life, so why would you camp in place where water was absent?

Here is Moses. He’s being forced to explain the lack of water. Moses responds, strangely enough, with a question for the people: “why are you testing God?” What does Moses mean by that statement? As for the people, they are putting the onus on Moses. Why did he bring them to this place? Why did he rescue them only to lead them to certain death from thirst? In other words, slavery was bad. Dying of thirst was worse!

Even if we’ve not experienced such thirst, most of us have been exposed to the issue. I like watching nature programs like Planet Earth and Planet Earth II. When the programs focus on deserts, you will be exposed to animals searching for water. Perhaps you will watch as a troop of elephants cross foreboding desert sands in search of an elusive watering hole. A wide shot from the air reveals nothing but sand in all directions, but the troop marches on. Most likely this troop will include at one least one calf struggling to keep up, its only hope of survival being the discovery of that water hole. You want to root for that calf to make it, but that’s not always the way things end. In a recent show, the calf fell and couldn’t get up. The mother stayed behind, watching over her calf, even though she too was now at risk because she was separated from the rest of the troop. You grieve for that mother.

If you grieve for the elephants, then surely you must grieve for the people of Israel who face a similar fate. There are children in this caravan. They would be most vulnerable. Think of the recent stories of refugees fleeing the violence in Syria and Iraq. Remember the faces of children who face hunger and thirst. Do we hear their murmurings? Do we empathize with them, and thus with the people of Israel camped in the desert with no water in sight?

The people are understandably upset, and Moses seems to be caught in the middle. He is the one God charged with leading them out of Egypt, but did he lead them out of Egypt to a place where death was certain? For his part, Moses is wondering what he had gotten himself into when he answered the call of the burning bush. Yes, he had been able to do miracle upon miracle, including parting the sea. But, none of that mattered now, as a thirsty people demanded water. I can hear Moses say to God: “What I do to deserve this?” “What am I supposed to do with this people?” I can hear him say to God, “I didn’t learn how to deal with this kind of a problem in seminary. So, what am I supposed to do? They’re about to stone me.” In other words, Moses was about to resign his leadership position! This is a sentiment that often marks clergy as they try to lead congregations that won’t go easily into the night. In this case, the people seem to have a point. They didn’t sign on to a trip that would to their death in a land without water.

Of course, it wasn’t Moses who delivered the people from Pharaoh. It wasn’t Moses who opened the sea or provided manna. It was YHWH. Fortunately, God had a solution. God told Moses to take the elders with him, along with the staff he used to strike the Nile, and go to the rock at Horeb, which is where God will be found standing on the rock. God instructed Moses to strike the rock with his staff, and when he did this, water would flow from that rock. If only drought-stricken lands had a staff like that. When Moses followed this command, he struck the rock in the sight of the Elders, and water began to flow so that the people could drink.

As is often the case in Exodus, this place takes on a new name. It is called Massah (Test) and Meribah (Quarrel). That is because the people tested God and quarreled. As they quarreled and tested God, they asked “Is the LORD among us or not?” They had seen God at work, but they still weren’t sure that God was with them. This episode might be remembered as one of those times when Israel tested God. That is, they showed a lack of faith. Consider the word of the Psalmist: “They tested God again and again, and provoked the Holy One of Israel” (Ps. 78:41).

I have never seen the parting of the sea, bread fall from heaven, or see someone strike a rock to get water to flow from it. Now, I know that there will be those who want to explain how all of this could happen. We moderns love natural explanations of biblical miracles. Regardless of the explanations, I’ve not seen anything close to what is described here with my own eyes. So how might I as a human being know if God is with me? Should I take my ability to find a rare parking spot as being a sign of divine presence? I would love to have the power to pray for one of my parishioners who is experiencing health problems, and watch those problems immediately disappear, but I’ve not seen that happen, though I do believe in healing and I do pray for people. I trust that God hears my prayers. But, how do I know that God is with me?

In this story, God provided the people with water to sustain them. God provides us with water as well that will sustain us—spiritually. Remember the story of Jesus and the Samaritan woman. He offers her living water. He tells her that everyone who drinks the water of Jacob’s well would again thirst, but “those who drink of the water that I will give them will never be thirsty. The water that I will give will become in them a spring of water gushing up to eternal life.” The woman told Jesus, “I want some of that water” (Jn. 4:13-15). So do I!

So, the answer is—yes, God is with us!
Picture Attribution: Chagall, Marc, 1887-1985. Moses Striking the Rock and Bringing Forth the Water, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. http://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=54659 [retrieved March 13, 2017]. Original source: http://www.flickr.com/photos/abeppu/3815912913/.

A Blessing to the Nations – A Lectionary Reflection for Lent 2A (Genesis 12)

Genesis 12:1-4 Common English Bible (CEB)

Abram’s family moves to Canaan
12 The Lord said to Abram, “Leave your land, your family, and your father’s household for the land that I will show you.²I will make of you a great nation and will bless you. I will make your name respected, and you will be a blessing.
³I will bless those who bless you,
those who curse you I will curse;
all the families of the earth
will be blessed because of you.”
⁴Abram left just as the Lord told him, and Lot went with him. Now Abram was 75 years old when he left Haran.

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This short passage is one of the most foundational texts in scripture (at least that’s my view). God calls Abram (name not yet changed to Abraham) to leave his home and extended family, and travel to a foreign land. If he does this then God promises that he will become a “a great nation” blessed by God. Not only will Abram be blessed, but in addition “all the families of the earth will be blessed because of you.” The lectionary selection is brief and yet powerful. God asks a lot of Abram, telling him to leave behind everything he has known. In a world in which tribe was central, it was risky to go to go to a land in which one was a stranger. While the promise itself was wonderful, the question was how would it work out?

The outworking of this call would have many twists and turns, and as the writer of Hebrews notes, Abraham set out “not knowing where he was going.” Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, all lived in tents and Sarah was barren, but the promise revealed itself over time, but “all of these died in faith without having received the promises, but from a distance they saw and greeted them” (Hebrews 11:8-13). There would be times when Abraham took matters into his hands, such as when in pursuit of an heir he took Sarah’s slave, Hagar, and had child with her. Despite the twists and turns, the journey to blessing starts here, and continuing through the Covenant of Sinai to that of Calvary and the embrace of the Gentiles into God’s realm.

As a Christian, I interpret the call of Abraham through the lens of Jesus. He is, as Paul suggests, the seed of Abraham, through whom the blessings of God would be revealed to the nations (Gal.3:15-18). With this in mind, it’s appropriate to remember that Matthew’s genealogy traces Jesus’ lineage back to Abraham (Matthew 1:1-17). For Matthew Jesus, the Messiah, is the son of David and the son of Abraham. But connecting Jesus’ mission to Abraham, he envisions Jesus as the one through whom all the nations will be blessed. That is, he will save the people from their sins (Mt.1:21). From this perspective, the coming of Jesus is not a course correction on the part of God, but a natural extension of the call of Abram. That means the church doesn’t replace Israel, but as Paul notes, the Gentiles are grafted into the olive tree that is Israel, so that the nations might share in the blessing that God first promised to Abraham and to Israel (Rom. 11). As we ponder the call and the end result, it is wise to remember the promise of Second Isaiah, that Israel would be a light to the nations so that God’s salvation would reach the ends of the earth (Is. 49:6).

Theologian Clark Williamson has devoted much attention to the question of the church’s relationship to Israel, especially in a post-Shoah world. He writes:

Israel was to be a priestly people, serving others, not itself. God’s covenant was not merely for Israel’s good but for the good of all human beings, Gentiles and Jews. God chose Israel as an instrument so that all peoples may come to know God and God’s purposes for them. [A Guest in the House of Israel, p. 125].

So, for Christians reading this call, which will be formalized more fully in Genesis 15 when the promise a child and heir is given (and sealed through sacrifice), and then again in Genesis 17, when God explicitly makes a covenant with Abram and in the process changes his name to Abraham (and that of Sarai to Sarah).

According to the reading from Genesis 12, Abram accepted the call and headed out from Haran to Canaan. He did so, accompanied by Lot and those closest to him, with only the promise of a blessing. The promise is this—the families of the earth will be blessed through him. As we contemplate this call it’s good to note that while God seems narrow the focus to one family, the earliest readers of this promise, as descendants of Abraham and Sarah, would have understood themselves to be that nation through which God would bless the families of the earth. They had a special calling from God. They had a message to share with the nations. While it would be easy to forget this calling, and focus inward rather than outward, time and again messengers would remind the people of their calling. It wasn’t just Israel that was to be blessed, it was the entire creation. Having attended a stewardship workshop recently, I’m reminded that this is a stewardship issue. That would mean that the promise ultimately is rooted in the creation of humanity, who are blessed by God and charged with having dominion (management) of God’s creation (Gen.1:26-31).

The call on Abram and his descendants was to be a blessing to the nations. It would be through this people that God would bless creation. For Christians, this means recognizing that we have been, as noted earlier, grafted into the olive tree that is Israel. We have been adopted into the family through the one who is the seed of Abraham. But as the Gentiles are drawn into the family, and blessed by God, that doesn’t nullify the previous covenant (Gal. 3:15-18). There is a tendency for Christians to read Paul in a supersessionist manner, so that Jesus replaces Israel. That would be inappropriate. For our purposes, let us simply understand Paul’s reference to seed to be a sign that God always intended to bring all of creation into the fold, and that Israel plays an important role in this, as does Jesus.

While there will always be interpretive questions to wrestle with, since three religious traditions claim descent from Abraham, and that these three traditions have often been at odds with each other, it would be wise to affirm the common ancestry, and move to the question of the nature of this blessing. After all, the words bless and blessing figure prominently in this passage and in Genesis. Lest anyone think too highly of one’s self, it is also good to remember that the blessing spoken of here is a gift of God, though it is a gift that must be received. Remember that Abram is told that those who bless him will be blessed and that those who curse him will be cursed. As James McTyre notes, “Abram is called by God to serve as a mirror. Instead of images, Abram will reflect blessings and curses on the land where he will sojourn” [Feasting on the Word, Year A, 2:51].

From a Christian point of view, the church, as the body of Christ, reflects God’s blessings to the world. But what does this mean? What is a blessing? It’s a good question since the words bless or blessing figure prominently in this passage and in the rest of the story. For modern readers the word blessing may seem quaint but not all that meaningful. However, in Hebrew the word connotes a sense of well-being or flourishing. That is what God wants to see happen for creation. He wants it to once again flourish. As to what this means, Miroslav Volf suggests that flourishing means that one does not live by bread alone. The material world is important, for we are material beings, but in his argument as to why a globalized world needs religion, Volf notes that “when we live by bread alone, there is enough bread, not enough even when we make so much of it that some of it rots away; when we live by bread alone, someone always goes hungry; when we live by bread alone, every bite we take leaves a bitter aftertaste; . . . living by ‘mundane realities’ and for them alone, we remain restless and that restlessness in turn contributes to competitiveness, social injustice, and the destruction of the environment as well as constitutes a major obstacle to more just, generous, and caring personal practices and social relationships.” We need bread, but we need more than bread. We need the bread of life. [Volf, Flourishing, p. 22].

There is a thread that runs from creation (Genesis 1) to new creation (Revelation 22). It runs through Abram and on to Jesus, through whom we are grafted into the tree, so that we might be reconciled and share in the blessings of God as was promised to Abram as he left Haran for a new land.

Picture attribution: St. Savin – Calling of Abraham, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. http://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=33460 [retrieved March 7, 2017]. Original source: Images donated by Anne Richardson Womack, Vanderbilt University, and James T. Womack, Montgomery Bell Academy, Nashville, TN.

Be Holy, Love Thy Neighbor! – Lectionary Reflection – Epiphany 7A (Leviticus)

Leviticus 19:1-2,9-18 New Revised Standard Version (NRSV)

19 The Lord spoke to Moses, saying: 2 Speak to all the congregation of the people of Israel and say to them: You shall be holy, for I the Lord your God am holy. 9 When you reap the harvest of your land, you shall not reap to the very edges of your field, or gather the gleanings of your harvest. 10 You shall not strip your vineyard bare, or gather the fallen grapes of your vineyard; you shall leave them for the poor and the alien: I am the Lord your God. 11 You shall not steal; you shall not deal falsely; and you shall not lie to one another. 12 And you shall not swear falsely by my name, profaning the name of your God: I am the Lord. 13 You shall not defraud your neighbor; you shall not steal; and you shall not keep for yourself the wages of a laborer until morning. 14 You shall not revile the deaf or put a stumbling block before the blind; you shall fear your God: I am the Lord. 15 You shall not render an unjust judgment; you shall not be partial to the poor or defer to the great: with justice you shall judge your neighbor. 16 You shall not go around as a slanderer among your people, and you shall not profit by the blood of your neighbor: I am the Lord. 17 You shall not hate in your heart anyone of your kin; you shall reprove your neighbor, or you will incur guilt yourself. 18 You shall not take vengeance or bear a grudge against any of your people, but you shall love your neighbor as yourself: I am the Lord.

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Gray and Gold, John Rogers Cox - Cleveland Museum of Art — Gray and Gold, John Rogers Cox – Cleveland Museum of Art

The people of God are called to emulate God’s holiness. The word “holy” carries a bit of baggage, because it’s often linked to smug self-righteousness. Words like puritanical, legalistic, and pharisaical are offered as synonyms. When it comes to the holiness code detailed in Leviticus, we tend to think in terms of ritual purity, rather than in terms of calls for compassion and service. Then we come to Leviticus 19, which calls for the people of God to be holy, even as God is holy. Here holiness is spoken of in terms of loving one’s neighbor as one’s self. Indeed, Jesus draws the second great command from Leviticus 19:18—the first command, the call to love God with one’s entire being is drawn from Deuteronomy 6:4-5 (Matt. 22:34-40). So, perhaps we need rethink our understanding of holiness.

The Old Testament reading for the seventh Sunday after Epiphany (Year A) includes the call to holiness, and then moves to the social implications of this call to holiness. It is the only time in the three-year lectionary cycle that we visit Leviticus, and that is only if the season extends to at least seven weeks. Thus, we might be missing out on important words from scripture.

The selection begins with the call to be holy, but ends with a call to love one’s neighbor. These two bookends are important, because they suggest that Torah (Law, Teaching) connects love and holiness. It is a reminder that grace and love are present in scripture prior to the New Testament. Jesus did not invent grace, he simply offered us a new way of understanding that biblical vision. In fact, his own vision of human relationships, especially as laid out in the Sermon on the Mount, is formed by what we read here in Leviticus 19.

Because Leviticus is understood to be a book of rules and regulations, Christians tend to avoid it. It presents us with too many problems, so we go elsewhere for inspiration and guidance. Nonetheless, there is much wisdom to be found in the book’s instructions on what it means to be holy as God is holy (Jesus picks up on this call to holiness in the Sermon on the Mount, with the rendering in Matthew 5 speaking of being perfect as God is perfect—Matthew 5:48). So, what does it mean to be holy as God is holy?

Leviticus 19 provides us with a collection of instructions. Ron Allen and Clark Williamson note that “imitation of God is manifest primarily in responsible actions toward the vulnerable” [Preaching the Old Testament: A Lectionary Commentary, (WJK Books), p. 23]. This call to care for the “least of these” is rooted in the biblical vision of God’s nature, who is “merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness” (Exodus 34:6). The lectionary reading omits the opening section of Leviticus 19 (vss. 3-8), which focuses on revering parents and honoring God. Instead, it jumps to the second section of the chapter, which offers us a vision of “holiness in neighborliness” [Walter Kaiser, “Leviticus,” New Interpreter’s Bible, (Abingdon Press), 1:131]. It is a word of instruction regarding social ethics. These instructions remind us that religion not only speaks to the divine-human relationship, but also has implications for the way in which we conduct ourselves in public. Each section or paragraph closes with the refrain: “I am the Lord.” It is a reminder that the way in which we conduct our lives is a reflection on the Lord (YHWH) our Creator.

With the United States in the midst of a debate about immigration and refugee status, the opening paragraph is instructive. The author instructs Israel’s farmers to make portions of their fields and vineyards available to the poor and the alien. In an agrarian economy, this is essentially a government imposed safety net. Why? Because “I am the Lord your God.”

The commands move on from caring for the alien, the foreigner, to other areas of concern. Holiness is more than ritual purity. It has community implications. There are calls to refrain from stealing, defrauding one’s neighbor, lying to one another, bearing false witness. There is a call to respect persons with disabilities—the deaf and the blind. It is instructive that this particular word of guidance is accompanied by a call to fear God. This is a word that churches might want to heed, as they consider ways of responding to those with disabilities. What obstacles do we put in the way of people who seek to come and worship?

There is a call for judges to be fair and impartial. This word is interesting because judges are not to distinguish between poor and rich. This word seems to stand in contrast with the idea that God has a “preferential option for the poor.” It would seem from this reading, that God doesn’t prefer the poor or the rich, but God judges each equally. It is justice that must be served. But, I wonder how we should read this passage. On the surface, it would seem that the judicial system should make no allowance for the poor, but is that the point? As Ron Allen and Clark Williamson point out, “in our times perhaps we should say that the poor should be provided with lawyers as able as those whom the rich can afford” [Preaching the Old Testament, p. 24]. Even if we affirm God’s preferential option for the poor, this is not to say that God has no concern about the welfare of the wealthy. God is God of all people, rich and poor.

At a time when “hate” seems strong in our midst, it is important to hear the call to not hate our kin. It is important that we not try to gain vengeance. It’s okay to reprove our neighbor, though I would caution great care. It’s easy to become “judgmental” and a meddler. Still, if we can, we should help our neighbors get back on track.

We began with a command to be holy, and we end with a command to love our neighbors as we love ourselves—what is often called the Golden Rule. It is worth noting, especially at this time and place in history, that if we continue reading down in Leviticus 19, that the people of Israel should “love the alien as yourself, for you were aliens in the land of Egypt” (Lev. 19:34). This broadens out what is meant in scripture by loving one’s neighbor as one self. Allen and Williamson note that this command, to love the alien is repeated thirty-six times in Scripture, suggesting, at least by repetition, that “it is the most important commandment in the Torah” [Preaching the Old Testament, p. 25].

While we might not find every word in Leviticus appropriate to our time, these are important words that do reflect the message of grace and compassion that are present throughout scripture. They reflect the covenant commission given to Abraham and Sarah, that through their descendants that peoples of the earth would be blessed (Gen. 12:1-3).

Choose God, Choose Life — Lectionary Reflection for Epiphany 6A (Deuteronomy)

Deuteronomy 30:15-20New Revised Standard Version (NRSV)

15 See, I have set before you today life and prosperity, death and adversity. 16 If you obey the commandments of the Lord your God that I am commanding you today, by loving the Lord your God, walking in his ways, and observing his commandments, decrees, and ordinances, then you shall live and become numerous, and the Lord your God will bless you in the land that you are entering to possess. 17 But if your heart turns away and you do not hear, but are led astray to bow down to other gods and serve them, 18 I declare to you today that you shall perish; you shall not live long in the land that you are crossing the Jordan to enter and possess. 19 I call heaven and earth to witness against you today that I have set before you life and death, blessings and curses. Choose life so that you and your descendants may live, 20 loving the Lord your God, obeying him, and holding fast to him; for that means life to you and length of days, so that you may live in the land that the Lord swore to give to your ancestors, to Abraham, to Isaac, and to Jacob.

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We have choices to make in life. Sometimes the choices are inconsequential, such as a flavor of ice cream. Other times, they determine life and death. I’m not of the mindset or theology that suggests that God has everything planned out. That’s not to say I don’t think that God is active in the world, it’s just that I think we contribute a great deal to our futures. In my understanding of things, we have free will and so our choices make a difference. Such is the message we find here in Deuteronomy 30.

In his closing message to the people of Israel, as they prepare to cross the river, Moses offers a warning of sorts, as well as a word of blessing to the people of Israel. They will soon enter a new land, the land of promise. Their future prosperity depends on the choices they make. Will they embrace their God who led them to this point? Or, will they depart from the ways of God? Moses won’t be crossing the river them. Whatever happens on the other side of the river, will happen without his involvement. This will be his final resting spot. He’s made his choices, but those who cross the river will have their own choices to make.

If they desire prosperity and life, rather than adversity and death, then the people will love God, walk in God’s ways, and obey God’s commandments. The heart of their life together is rooted in the commandments as summarized in the Shema: “Hear, O Israel: The Lord is your God, the Lord alone. You shall love the LORD your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your might” (Deut. 6:4-5). In other words, their future is wrapped up in the covenant that God had made with them as they left slavery and crossed the desert toward ultimate freedom. The choices they make as they prepare to cross the river will have consequences for them, but also for their descendants. That is why, after Moses delivered the Commandments to the people, he told them to pass on the words he shared to their children (Deut. 6:6).

So, if the people choose wrongly. That is, if they choose to give themselves to other gods and other ways, they will experience death. Remember the foundation of the covenant is choosing to love God “with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your might.” So, if your heart is led astray and you embrace other gods, you will experience the consequences of those choices. You will perish and not live for long in the land of promise. The key sin here is idolatry. So, we are faced with a question. Are we given to idolatry? Are we tempted to give our loyalty to gods other than the God of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob? The consequence here ultimately is alienation from the Land. You shall not live in it for long, if you don’t keep the covenant stipulations. Brett Younger puts it this way:

Most of our decisions do not seem important, but life and death are before us every day. We choose death when we ignore God and choose anything inferior. Death is a slow process of giving ourselves to what does not matter. Modern life is impoverished with a lack of purpose. We rush to meet deadlines that are insignificant and bow before ideas that are not worthy. [Feasting on theWord, pp. 341, 343].

So, what is significant that we should give our attention to it? What is God’s desire? What is it that God wants from us? The prophet Micah offers some clues: justice, mercy, humility (Mic. 6:8). At this moment in time we’re confronted with the plight of refugees who flee persecution and war. How is this a concern of God? What is required of us? We witness a diversifying of our communities. How is this a concern of God? If these are concerns of God, and the word to us, is to walk in the ways of God, how should we respond?

I spend time with social media, probably more than I should, and what I witness are choices being made. Some are productive, many are not. Indeed, many of our choices as expressed on social media are destructive. They express our idolatries, our desire for power and prestige. They give vent to our anger. These are often choices that bring death not life. So, how do we move from death to life?

As we read Moses’ final sermon, his summing up of the Law, it’s not all bad news. Remember there’s a choice involved. Moses would rather the people choose life. Yes, “Choose life so that you and your descendants may live, loving the Lord your God, obeying him, and holding fast to him; for that means life to you and length of days, so that you may live in the land that the Lord swore to give to your ancestors, to Abraham, to Isaac, and to Jacob.”

I again turn to the words of Brett Younger, who writes:

Worship with all your heart. Pray genuinely. Love your church. Believe that God loves you. Remember the stories of Jesus. See Christ in the people around you. Share God’s love with someone who has forgotten it. Delight in God’s good gifts. See that all of life is holy. Open your heart to the Spirit. Search for something deeper and better than your own comfort. Live in the joy beneath it all. Let God make your life wonderful. [Feasting on the Word, p. 343].

These are wise words. These are words of life that are reflective of the message of Deuteronomy. The choice is ours. We have free will. We’re not beholden to idolatry, even if t sometimes comes easily to us. The river stands before us. We have choice as to whether we will cross over into the promised land. Once there, we’ll have other choices that are matters of life and death. Which will you choose? Life or death?

Divine Requirements – Lectionary Reflection for Epiphany 4A (Micah)

Micah 6:1-8 New Revised Standard Version (NRSV)

6 Hear what the Lord says:
Rise, plead your case before the mountains,
and let the hills hear your voice.
²Hear, you mountains, the controversy of the Lord,
and you enduring foundations of the earth;
for the Lord has a controversy with his people,
and he will contend with Israel.
³“O my people, what have I done to you?
In what have I wearied you? Answer me!
⁴For I brought you up from the land of Egypt,
and redeemed you from the house of slavery;
and I sent before you Moses,
Aaron, and Miriam.
⁵O my people, remember now what King Balak of Moab devised,
what Balaam son of Beor answered him,
and what happened from Shittim to Gilgal,
that you may know the saving acts of the Lord.”
⁶“With what shall I come before the Lord,
and bow myself before God on high?
Shall I come before him with burnt offerings,
with calves a year old?
⁷Will the Lord be pleased with thousands of rams,
with ten thousands of rivers of oil?
Shall I give my firstborn for my transgression,
the fruit of my body for the sin of my soul?”
⁸He has told you, O mortal, what is good;
and what does the Lord require of you
but to do justice, and to love kindness,
and to walk humbly with your God?

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What does God require of you? That is the question we regularly ponder. The question, however, is prefaced by a declaration of what God has already done. The reading from the Old Testament for the Fourth Sunday after Epiphany concludes with a passage well known to many. I regularly use of it myself. What does God require, but justice, mercy, and humble obedience? While Micah 6:8 is a favorite verse among those of us who believe that social justice stands at the heart of what it means to be a disciple of Jesus, but have we truly fulfilled God’s desire for us?

The reading from the prophet Micah begins with a court summons, because God is suing Israel for being unfaithful to the covenant. Eugene Peterson puts it as clearly as can be in The Message:

“Take your stand in court.
If you have a complaint, tell the mountains;
make your case to the hills.
And now, Mountains, hear God’s case;
listen, Jury Earth—
For I am bringing charges against my people.
I am building a case against Israel.” (vs. 1-2).

Just like Perry Mason, God is formulating a case, and inviting creation itself to be the jury. So, what do you have to say for yourself? What is your defense? Is God just being overly litigious, or is there something to God’s case?

img_20140921_100141 The prophet who brings this word to Israel, this spokesperson for God, is Micah. Like many of the “Minor Prophets,” we know little about him. The superscription to the book (Micah 1:1) takes note of three kings of Judah, during which time he is supposed to have been active—Jotham (742-735 BCE), Ahaz (735-715 BCE), and Hezekiah (715-687 BCE). Whatever was the exact timing of his prophetic ministry, it was a time of upheaval and external threat (Assyria). What is clear from the book itself is that Micah was concerned about ordinary people. Commentator Daniel Simundson writes: “He felt compassion for the poor and disposed, and held the leaders responsible for their suffering. We can learn something about the people’s social and economic situation from Micah’s condemnation of the rulers, merchants, and prophets” [“The Book of Micah, New Interpreter’s Bible, 7:534]. You might say that he didn’t hold the 1% in high regard, but as Simundson notes, there are similarities in message to that of Micah’s contemporary, the one we call First Isaiah. So, he wasn’t alone in his messaging!

It is this God who is concerned about the poor and the disposed, who speaks to Judah through Micah in the Old Testament reading for the fourth Sunday after Epiphany. When we listen to the full story, it’s clear that this God can get angry with those who fail to abide by God’s vision for humanity. But, we’ll not be saved by our piety. God demands actions. God isn’t interested in our burnt offerings, or even the offering of our first-born child (suggesting that human sacrifice was present in the region). Instead, God demands that we attend to those in need. This is the backdrop of God’s covenant lawsuit against Judah. Before we get to the request for action, we first need to hear what God has already done for Judah. Micah reminds the people of God’s deliverance of Israel from slavery in Egypt. The prophet takes note of earlier leaders—Moses, Aaron, and Miriam. Yes, Micah mentions the sister of Moses, suggesting that to Micah she is a co-liberator. We need to take note of this. All of this is meant to remind us that when it comes to covenants, God keep’s God’s side of the bargain (verses 3-5). But do we?

That is the question for the final set of verses. What does God require? What are the expectations that God has for us? What is clear is that God isn’t interested in burnt offerings. It doesn’t matter if it is a young calf, ten thousand rivers of oil, or even thousands of rams. None of the usual offerings matter to God. That should be taken note of, because sometimes we want to think that our piety is sufficient. Surely, even if the usual offerings are not acceptable, the offering of one’s first born should suffice. This statement, about an offering of the “the fruit of my body for the sin of my soul,” should give us pause. It’s a reminder that human sacrifice was still prevalent, even in ancient Israel. But that will not suffice either.

These are difficult words for good church people. There’s something to be said for showing up week in and week out, but if that’s all there is, is it sufficient? Another way of putting it. If my Sunday piety doesn’t influence how I live amongst my neighbors from Monday through Saturday, is there any substance to my piety? The answer appears to be no.

This is what God wants from us. This is what is good: “Do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God.” Turning again to Eugene Peterson’s rendition of the passage:

But he’s already made it plain how to live, what to do,
what God is looking for in men and women.
It’s quite simple: Do what is fair and just to your neighbor,
be compassionate and loyal in your love,
And don’t take yourself too seriously—
take God seriously. (vs. 8 The Message)

Yes, “do what is fair and just to your neighbor.” “Be compassionate and loyal in your love.” What could be plainer? Jesus called on us to love God and love our neighbors. He made it clear that these two commands are connected. You can’t do one without doing the other. This will require a great deal of humility. There’s no room for narcissism in this word of guidance. “Don’t take yourself too seriously” is the way Peterson puts it. Is this not a word for our times?

Humility is a character trait that is difficult to maintain. We all struggle with the call to be humble. I want to be recognized for my accomplishments. I want the applause. But as I wallow in this “need,” I hear the call to humility, for this is what God desires of me. Indeed, it takes that humility to embrace justice and fairness. It takes humility to love compassionately. What does God require of us? God has revealed the answer here in Micah. If we need some New Testament support, what about the word offered by James:

Anyone who sets himself up as “religious” by talking a good game is self-deceived. This kind of religion is hot air and only hot air. Real religion, the kind that passes muster before God the Father, is this: Reach out to the homeless and loveless in their plight, and guard against corruption from the godless world. [James 1:26-27The Message].

Indeed! And timely words for a moment like ours, for it does seem that a goodly portion of the Christian community in America (at least) is caught up in a form of piety that is unlike the one Micah proclaims.

A Light to the Nations – Lectionary Reflection for Epiphany 2A (Isaiah 49)

Isaiah 49:1-7 Common English Bible (CEB)

49 Listen to me, coastlands;
pay attention, peoples far away.
The Lord called me before my birth,
called my name when I was in my mother’s womb.
²He made my mouth like a sharp sword,
and hid me in the shadow of God’s own hand.
He made me a sharpened arrow,
and concealed me in God’s quiver,
³ saying to me, “You are my servant,
Israel, in whom I show my glory.”
⁴But I said, “I have wearied myself in vain.
I have used up my strength for nothing.”
Nevertheless, the Lord will grant me justice;
my reward is with my God.
⁵And now the Lord has decided—
the one who formed me from the womb as his servant—
to restore Jacob to God,
so that Israel might return to him.
Moreover, I’m honored in the Lord’s eyes;
my God has become my strength.
⁶He said: It is not enough, since you are my servant,
to raise up the tribes of Jacob
and to bring back the survivors of Israel.
Hence, I will also appoint you as light to the nations
so that my salvation may reach to the end of the earth.
⁷The Lord, redeemer of Israel and its holy one,
says to one despised,
rejected by nations,
to the slave of rulers:
Kings will see and stand up;
commanders will bow down
on account of the Lord, who is faithful,
the holy one of Israel,
who has chosen you.

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We are in the season of Epiphany, the season of revelation and light. It probably is true of every era, but it seems as if we have entered a season of darkness. Many feel like night has fallen, and we simply can’t see our way forward. For some, this might feel like being abandoned by God. They join the Psalmist crying out “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me” (Psalm 22:1). There is good news, however, for into this darkness steps the servant of God, who reveals the glory of God.

The Day of Epiphany has come and passed. We have joined Jesus at his baptism, where we watched as the Spirit fell upon him, and the voice from heaven declared him to be the beloved. In him, we declare, God is incarnate. In him, as John reveals, the light shines in the darkness, and despite everything that came against him, the darkness did not and does not overcome him (John 1:5). During this season after Epiphany we attend to the light. We look for the places where God is being revealed, so that we might be made new. With this in mind, we continue our journey through the readings from the Hebrew Bible.

The Word of God as revealed through the words of the one we call Second Isaiah, speaks of a Servant of God who is the light to the nations. When we read a text like this, especially reading at as Christians, we need to take stock of the multiple levels of interpretation that are present. I think it’s appropriate for Christians to see Jesus in these words, but we must be careful about jumping to that interpretation without attending to original contexts and readings.

The prophet tells of one who speaks to the Coastlands, that is to a people living faraway? Who is this one who speaks? Who is the one who was called from his mother’s womb? At level, this must be the prophet’s own sense of call. We don’t know his identity, but he reveals to us that before he was born, God had chosen him for a purpose.

I wonder, do those of us attending to this text, see ourselves being called by God from before birth? Do we have a sense of God’s guiding hand upon our lives? I wonder about that at times. Even though I didn’t anticipate being a pastor early in life, there are a few markers along the way that might be suggestive. I was an acolyte at the age of 9, serving at the altar, at St. Barnabas Episcopal Church. Now I was one of only two children in the church of an age who could do this, but still is this a sign? I would later serve as a lay reader at St. Paul’s Episcopal Church. Fr. Green decided that since I read the liturgy with enough volume, I might as well lead it. Was this a sign of a call? I ask these questions from the perspective of a non-Calvinist, non-predestinationist, open theist, kind of Christian, who nonetheless finds some sense of purpose in words like this.

While I think that the prophet is reading his own call into this text, it’s clear that he also has in mind the people of Israel (now the remnant we call Judah). The servant of God is Israel, or the remnant thereof. The people who heard this word lived exile in Babylon. They were wondering about their future. What they knew was that the capitol city lay in ruins, the Temple of God with it. The monarchy had been essentially destroyed as well. So, who would they be if they returned home? What would be their calling? The word of the prophet is quite direct: “You are my servant, Israel, in whom I show my glory.” When it comes to glory, we’re talking about light. A bit later in this passage, the prophet says to a people living in exile:

It is not enough, since you are my servant, to raise up the tribes of Jacob and to bring back the survivors of Israel. Hence, I will also appoint you as light to the nations so that my salvation may reach to the end of the earth. (v. 6).

It’s not enough for the exiles to return home. No, God has plans for Israel (the tribes of Jacob). God is appointing Israel to be the “light to the nations,” so that the message of salvation might reach the ends of the earth. That is Israel’s calling. It is also our calling.

From a Christian perspective, Jesus takes on the mantle of the servant. That is, Jesus is the one Isaiah describes as being the suffering servant. He is the one who is despised by the nations (even as Israel was despised). But, despite the rejection and the resistance, Jesus is the light of the world. As the light, he brings the salvation to the world. Yes, even to the ends of the earth. The commission that Jesus gives the Disciples on the day of Ascension reflects this message. “you will be my witnesses in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth” (Acts 1:8).

The season of Epiphany (I prefer to speak of the Sundays after Epiphany rather than Ordinary Time) is a season of revelation and enlightenment. It is a season to highlight the message of salvation in Christ. Here we are, a people who have walked in darkness, but now we have seen a great light (Isaiah 9:2). Having experienced the light, let us take up the calling to be a light to the nations, singing that children’s song: “This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine, I’m gonna let it shine, I’m gonna let it shine.”

Behold, the Servant of God – Lectionary Reading for Baptism of Jesus Sunday (Isaiah 42)

Isaiah 42:1-9 New Revised Standard Version (NRSV)

42 Here is my servant, whom I uphold,
my chosen, in whom my soul delights;
I have put my spirit upon him;
he will bring forth justice to the nations.
²He will not cry or lift up his voice,
or make it heard in the street;
³a bruised reed he will not break,
and a dimly burning wick he will not quench;
he will faithfully bring forth justice.
⁴He will not grow faint or be crushed
until he has established justice in the earth;
and the coastlands wait for his teaching.
⁵Thus says God, the Lord,
who created the heavens and stretched them out,
who spread out the earth and what comes from it,
who gives breath to the people upon it
and spirit to those who walk in it:
⁶I am the Lord, I have called you in righteousness,
I have taken you by the hand and kept you;
I have given you as a covenant to the people,
a light to the nations,
⁷ to open the eyes that are blind,
to bring out the prisoners from the dungeon,
from the prison those who sit in darkness.
⁸I am the Lord, that is my name;
my glory I give to no other,
nor my praise to idols.
⁹See, the former things have come to pass,
and new things I now declare;
before they spring forth,
I tell you of them.

**********************

We have arrived at Baptism of Jesus Sunday, the first Sunday after Epiphany. On the Day of Epiphany, we celebrate the coming of light into the world in God’s self-revelation in the person of Jesus. For those in the Eastern Church, January 6 is Christmas. In the West, it is Epiphany, which is according to tradition the day we remember the coming of the Magi to honor Jesus with their gifts. They represent the Gentile nations who have seen the light of God. On Baptism of Jesus Sunday, our attention shifts several decades into the future. Jesus is now a grown man, who, according to Matthew, comes from Galilee to the region of the Jordan River, where John is baptizing. Why does Jesus come to John for baptism? That is the question for the ages, but whatever the answer, in Matthew’s version of the story, John resisted the request. He suggests that Jesus should baptized him, but Jesus insists that John baptize him. When Jesus emerges from the waters of baptism, the Spirit of God descends upon him in the form of a dove. Then a voice from heaven declares: “This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased” (Matthew 3:13-17). With this announcement from the heavens, the ministry of Jesus is launched.

baptism2bof2bjesus2b-2bjacopo2btintoretto2bcleveland — Baptism of Christ- Jacopo Tintoretto (Cleveland)

Baptism has deep roots within Judaism, and it is one of two sacraments that almost all Christians affirm (the other being the Eucharist). Defining the meaning/theology of baptism and describing the “proper” forms is rather complicated. It would require much more space than I’m ready to give to it at this moment. I might suggest reading Clark Williamson’s small book Baptism: Embodiment of the Gospel, Disciples Baptismal Theology, (Christian Board of Publication, 1987), though it is long out of print, for an interpretation arising from my own tradition. I will interject this from Paul: in baptism, we are united with Christ in his death and resurrection, so that we might be dead to sin and alive to Christ (Rom. 6:1-11).

In Matthew’s description of Jesus baptism, we hear God affirm Jesus to be God’s Son and we watch with Matthew as the Spirit of God alights upon Jesus. We hear that God delights in Jesus, and this leads us to the reading from Isaiah 42. The prophet (Second Isaiah) declares, on behalf of God, “Here is my servant whom I uphold, my chosen, in whom my soul delights; I have put my spirit upon him; he will bring forth justice to the nations” (Is. 42:1). The wording isn’t quite the same as in Matthew 3, but there is a resemblance. Jesus is the servant of God, in whom God delights. He is the one, according to Luke 4, upon whom the Spirit has fallen, and who is given the responsibility of bringing “good news to the poor” (Luke 4:18). The scripture Jesus reads in the synagogue in Nazareth in Luke 4 is Isaiah 42. In that passage, Jesus claims this mantle. He is the one in whom God delights. He is the one who is filled with the Spirit, to bring justice and good news to the world. He will bring deliverance to the captives and sight to the blind.

While we appropriate the message of this psalm from Isaiah to define the ministry of the one who received baptism from John—the one whom God claims as God’s Son as the Spirit descends—it’s unlikely that Isaiah has Jesus in mind. Contextually, the servant is Israel. As John Goldingay puts it, “Yahweh’s servant embodies with it means to have Yahweh in covenant relationship with you, embodies what it means to have Yahweh’s light (that is, Yahweh’s blessing) shine in your life. That covenant and light are not designed just for Israel but for the nations; Yahweh’s plan was to embody them in Israel as something also available to the nations” [Goldingay, Isaiah forEveryone, p. 158]. Here we have, laid out for us, Israel’s vocation. Here, in these verses, Isaiah lays out Israel’s calling as the covenant people of God living in exile in Babylon. This people is called by God, and filled with the Spirit, to bring good news to the nations. They have been charged as God’s covenant people with being a light to the nations.

What is important to hear in this passage is Isaiah’s description of Israel’s condition. What is amazing about the story of God’s covenant relationship with Israel, is that this people was never rich or powerful. Israel, even at its height of glory, was a relatively small kingdom. It never approached the power of Egypt or Assyria or Babylon. It stood at the crossroads of empires, which meant that many battles were fought on its plains and valleys, but it was never the main actor. Nonetheless, this people whom Isaiah describes as being a “bruised reed” will “never break.” Israel might be a “dimly burning wick,” but it “will never be quenched” (vss. 2-3).

So, what word should we hear from Second Isaiah on Baptism of Jesus Sunday? What is Jesus’ mission, and how might we participate in it? In other words, how might we baptized with the baptism of Jesus? Whatever the form of our baptism, whether immersion or sprinkling, believer’s or infant, on Baptism of Jesus Sunday, let us reaffirm vows of commitment to Jesus and his way. May we be formed by God’s grace, so that we might be in Christ a community of light to the nations, so that justice might be proclaimed, that good news might be shared with the poor, the captive, the blind. We close with these words from Isaiah, words fit for the beginning of a new year.

I am the Lord;
that is my name;
I don’t hand out my glory to others
or my praise to idols.
The things announced in the past—look—they’ve already happened,
but I’m declaring new things.
Before they even appear,
I tell you about them. (Is. 42:8-9 CEB).

New things are about to happen, and God has revealed them to us. We have been made, through baptism, part of the covenant people of God. Therefore, may the light of God shine through us so that the world might see God’s grace, love, and justice.

Marching to Zion with Song – Lectionary Reflection (Isaiah) for Advent 3A

Isaiah 35:1-10 New Revised Standard Version (NRSV)
35 The wilderness and the dry land shall be glad,
the desert shall rejoice and blossom;
like the crocus ²it shall blossom abundantly,
and rejoice with joy and singing.
The glory of Lebanon shall be given to it,
the majesty of Carmel and Sharon.
They shall see the glory of the Lord,
the majesty of our God.
³Strengthen the weak hands,
and make firm the feeble knees.
⁴Say to those who are of a fearful heart,
“Be strong, do not fear!
Here is your God.
He will come with vengeance,
with terrible recompense.
He will come and save you.”
⁵Then the eyes of the blind shall be opened,
and the ears of the deaf unstopped;
⁶then the lame shall leap like a deer,
and the tongue of the speechless sing for joy.
For waters shall break forth in the wilderness,
and streams in the desert;
⁷the burning sand shall become a pool,
and the thirsty ground springs of water;
the haunt of jackals shall become a swamp,
the grass shall become reeds and rushes.
⁸A highway shall be there,
and it shall be called the Holy Way;
the unclean shall not travel on it,
but it shall be for God’s people;
no traveler, not even fools, shall go astray.
⁹No lion shall be there,
nor shall any ravenous beast come up on it;
they shall not be found there,
but the redeemed shall walk there.
¹⁰And the ransomed of the Lord shall return,
and come to Zion with singing;
everlasting joy shall be upon their heads;
they shall obtain joy and gladness,
and sorrow and sighing shall flee away.

****

On the third Sunday of Advent, we light the candle of joy. Even a casual reading of Isaiah 35 suggests that joy is a central theme of Isaiah 35. That is because the “ransomed of the LORD shall return, and come to Zion with singing.” Isaiah 35 has an eschatological tone to it, at least as we read it today in the context of Advent. Looking at the text more broadly, this word of joy is part of prophetic promise on the part of Yahweh to deliver the people from captivity. The word begins in Isaiah 34, which offers a word of judgment on Judah’s neighbor, Edom. There is a reason why we read Isaiah 35 and not Isaiah 34 in the season of Advent. Chapter 34 offers a rather bloody picture of God’s judgment. There’s no joy present in that chapter, but it is present in chapter 35.

It’s important that we remember the context. This word originally was meant for people experiencing exile in Babylon. The prophet, likely Second Isaiah, offers the people hope of redemption and return to Zion (Jerusalem). We will return to the context, but let us also put it in a liturgical context. This is the reading from the Hebrew Bible for the third Sunday of Advent. Liturgically, we hear a word of joy. We receive the invitation to lift our eyes so we can see the glory and majesty of God. The reading begins with the desert in bloom. Such a picture is a joyous one. I’ve seen enough nature films to know what that looks like. A bit of rain falls and the desert comes alive, revealing a previously hidden radiance. A good example can be found east of Los Angeles in the Antelope Valley. It’s high desert. It’s dray and barren, but most every spring, when the rains fall, this normally barren land turns a vibrant yellow as the California poppy, the state flower, blooms across the valley floor. The flowers mentioned are different, but the effect is the same. Not only does the desert blossom, but our eyes are drawn to the glory of Lebanon – that is the mountains. While I may have never been to Lebanon, I’ve lived much of my life in the shadow of mountains. Growing up, I lived within view of Mount Shasta, a 14,000-foot volcano that dominates the landscape. As far as I’m concerned, it’s the most beautiful mountain in the world. When covered with snow, it is magnificent. Yes, nature has a way of declaring God’s glory (I know, it can also wreak havoc on us).

There is another vision present in this passage, and it’s the one that the season of Advent picks up on, and that is the vision of one who will open the eyes of the blind and the ears of the deaf, even as the lame shall “leap like a deer,” while the speechless will sing for joy. In each case this is a reversal of fortune. What was is no more. For the people of Judah, who had been living in exile, this is good news. It also describes Jesus ministry as revealed in the Gospels.

We need to return to the context of the reading. While placed within the section we call First Isaiah (the eighth century BCE prophet), chapters 34 and 35 fit best within the scope of Second Isaiah (during the Babylonian Exile of the sixth century BCE). Thus, the highway that God is laying out isn’t the one the Messiah traverses as envisioned by the call of John the Baptist, but rather it is the one the people of Judah will take as they journey home from Babylon (Edom?) to Jerusalem (Zion). They will return home singing the songs of deliverance.

While the hymn “Marching to Zion” isn’t an Advent hymn, it does seem to fit the context: The hymn begins: “Come, we that love the Lord, and let our joys be known; join in a song of sweet accord, join in a song of sweet accord, and thus surround the throne, and thus surround the throne.” Then we join in the chorus: “We’re marching to Zion, beautiful, beautiful Zion; we’re marching upward to Zion, the beautiful city of God” (Isaac Watts; refrain by Robert Lowery). In the Watts/Lowery version, the road to Zion is that road that leads to the heavenly realm. It is a song of consummation rather than advent, and yet Advent is an eschatological season. While we remember the first advent, when Jesus was born, bringing into flesh the Word of God (John 1:1-14), our continued observance of the season is rooted in the belief that we are moving into God’s future, when God’s vision of peace will be revealed and we will be redeemed. Thus, we can all join in the march toward Zion. There we’ll “obtain joy and gladness, and sorrow and sighing shall flee away.” Isn’t that the message that Advent brings to us, or at least that is the message that this reading from Isaiah suggests.

This is a good word for the moment. In conversation with someone at church this past Sunday, we talked about leaving 2016 behind. In many ways 2016 has been a difficult year. There was an election that leaves the United States divided, with many uncertain about the future and even afraid of what it might bring. We also saw beloved figures, especially in the music world, pass away. Some of us lost members of our family. We need some joy in our lives. So, perhaps this is a good Sunday to sing “Joy to the World.” At least Isaiah seems to suggest that this would be appropriate.

Let us sing for joy at the prospect of returning home, marching to Zion, along the highway that God has prepared for us. When we get to the promised land, there will be a full reversal of fortunes. As Isaac Watts puts it in stanza four of “Marching to Zion,” “then let our songs abound, and every tear be dry; we’re marching through Emmanuel’s ground, we’re marching through Emmanuel’s ground to fairer worlds on high, to fairer words on high.” While this hymn might suggest that our hope for joy is to be found in the next life, could it not be that the joy can begin now, as we experience the inbreaking of the realm of God?

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Come Sunday

Crossing the River – Common Lectionary Reflection, Pentecost 21

Dry Bones and the Breath of Life – Lectionary Reflection for Lent 5A (Ezekiel)

Is God With Us? – Lectionary Reflection – Lent 3A (Exodus)

A Blessing to the Nations – A Lectionary Reflection for Lent 2A (Genesis 12)

Be Holy, Love Thy Neighbor! – Lectionary Reflection – Epiphany 7A (Leviticus)

Choose God, Choose Life — Lectionary Reflection for Epiphany 6A (Deuteronomy)

Divine Requirements – Lectionary Reflection for Epiphany 4A (Micah)

A Light to the Nations – Lectionary Reflection for Epiphany 2A (Isaiah 49)

January 15, 2017

Behold, the Servant of God – Lectionary Reading for Baptism of Jesus Sunday (Isaiah 42)

January 8, 2017

Marching to Zion with Song – Lectionary Reflection (Isaiah) for Advent 3A

December 11, 2016

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