Original post at http://sacredise.com/blog/?p=1241

I enjoy writing this blog when I have the chance, but sometimes, like over the last few weeks, I struggle to find the time and creativity, in amongst all the other writing I do for my Daily Worship blog, my Lectionary Worship Resources blog, and for other publications, to write anything here. I often feel guilty when a week goes past and I haven’t added anything new to this blog, but I’ve realised that’s a silly way to respond. I have only so much time and energy and I have to manage it to the best of my ability. There is no guilt in this. It’s just the way it is.

In the next few months I have been asked to write for a number of different projects, and I also have a new book in the pipeline. Some of those projects are international publications, some are resources for my own denomination, and some are part of the ongoing work of Sacredise. I have wrestled with how I will manage to fit all of this output into my time and energy, and I’ve realised that something will have to take a back seat for the next few months. That something will have to be this blog. So, for the next while, silence will come to this blog. I hope to pick it up again later in the year, but in the meantime, I hope that the other resources and writings of Sacredise will be enough.

And, as I move into this time of busyness, I ask you to pray for me. I can use all the support and energy I can get!

Original post at http://sacredise.com/blog/?p=1239

A Reflection on Luke 4:21-30

I must confess, I am rather sceptical when it comes to praise. It’s not that I don’t like to be complimented – on the contrary, I enjoy affirmation as much as anyone. It’s just that I’ve experienced the kind of praise that seeks to recruit me to someone else’s agenda a few too many times.

For example, after a worship gathering which I facilitated some time ago, I was approached by a man who could not say enough good things about how the service had been structured and about my preaching. He went on and on about my insight and ability, and how he had been touched by my ministry. Then he asked if he could speak to me once I had finished greeting the other congregants. When I sat down to talk to him, he proceeded to give me a long explanation (including a few significant names that were conveniently inserted at important moments) about a project he was launching that really "needed" my "unique" gifts. When I finally managed to extricate myself, my colleague, who was the resident minister of that church, apologised and informed me that this was a common occurrence with this man, and that the project was not genuine.

I suspect that this is a little like what was going on with Jesus in that synagogue in Nazareth. The people must have heard about Jesus’ reputation. He had already been preaching in the region and the people were so impressed that the word had spread. Now he comes to his hometown where, according to custom, he is invited, as a visiting preacher, to read the Scripture and teach the people. At first there was a sense of pride, it seems. When Jesus announced that Isaiah’s prophecy had been fulfilled, the people did not respond negatively at all. Rather they were amazed that this son of their village had come so far. Perhaps they even wondered if this meant that they had been specially chosen as the Messiah’s place of origin. What honour this would bring to a town that was the butt of derisive Proverbs! They could use this. Perhaps it would even mean a special place in the new order the Messiah was to bring. So far so good, for Jesus. His own people are ripe to become his first and most loyal supporters.

But he couldn’t leave it at that. I wonder if Jesus was already feeling the pull of their agenda. I wonder if he knew that if he didn’t confront them right away, they would claim ownership of him and his ministry. I wonder if he wrestled with the temptation to make his people proud by allowing them to direct and define him, as all communities do with their children as they grow up. Perhaps, having just faced the blatant temptation in the wilderness, this siren call was subtler and more difficult to identify and resist. It was packaged in praise, after all.

But Jesus did resist it – very strongly. He immediately made it clear that he was not to be owned by his village, nor even by his nation or religion. Lifting out of the Scriptures the stories of God’s grace to foreigners and outcasts, Jesus confronted the people of his home with their exclusivity, their self-righteousness, and their rigidity. He revealed the disturbing, subversive nature of his call, while aligning himself with the prophets in order to show his continuity with the Scriptures and the faith these people loved. Essentially he gave them no way out. They either had to admit their flaws and be changed, or they had to reject him completely. They chose the latter, and, though they tried to finish him off in a kind of "family justice", Jesus seems to have rather easily slipped away. But the battle had been won. Their praise had failed to imprison him.

As those who seek to follow Jesus, we will face similar temptations. On the one hand we will encounter those who will use praise to manipulate, recruit, and own us. If we remain addicted to the good opinion of others they may well succeed, and we will be diverted from our call. We see the results of this dynamic in churches that make relevance, attractiveness and relationship with important people higher values than justice, confrontation, and the call to repentance and change. We also see it in individuals who refuse to have difficult conversations or be involved with the unpopular work of social justice for fear of incurring the disapproval of others.

On the other hand, we may he tempted to win others to our positions and causes through flattery and praise. We may be tempted to praise only those who abide by our agendas or values, and demonise those who don’t. It can be much easier to simply stroke someone’s ego than to do the tough work of real dialogue in which we might be called to change. But in the end, such fickle praise only robs us, and those whom we abuse with it, of real life-giving encouragement, growth and community. Which is why, like Jesus, we may find ourselves choosing to challenge and resist praise when it comes – as offensive as that may sound.

Original post at http://sacredise.com/blog/?p=1237

Lent is just around the corner, and many churches and individuals are looking for resources that they can use for their worship or personal devotion. Which is why I want to recommend an awesome new book by my friend Dr. Wessel Bentley.

The Miracles of Jesus – Meditations and Prayers for Lent is a beautifully written invitation to encounter God through the Gospel miracle stories. Each day explores one miracle with a Scripture reading, a short meditation, a reflection for personal application, a prayer focus for the day, and a prayer. Wessel’s writes as friend who comes alongside and draws us into each miracle with gentle grace and insight. The meditations are easy to read and simple, in the sense that they resonate immediately with the challenges we face each day as we seek to follow Christ, but they are not simplistic. Wessel has a wonderful gift for opening the Scriptures and their meaning in such a way that we understand their message more deeply, and in the process encounter both God and ourselves in new and transforming ways.

The meditations run from Monday to Friday, with Saturday set aside as a day for reflection on the week and assimilating what has been experienced in the previous days. There are no meditations for Sunday, because Wessel invites us to commit to worship with a faith community on those days (also, traditionally Sundays are not part of the 40 days of Lent, because they always celebrate the resurrection of Christ).

If you’re looking for a resource that will make your Lent journey more intentional and meaningful, then I encourage you to consider The Miracles of Jesus – Meditations and Prayers for Lent. I am sure you will be glad you di!

The Miracles of Jesus – Meditations and Prayers for Lent is published by Upper Room Books. More information, and purchasing links can be found at Wessel’s website.

Original post at http://sacredise.com/blog/?p=1234

A Lectionary Reflection on Luke 4:14-21 for Epiphany 3C

When Alice famously asked the Cheshire Cat which way she should take, the Cat replied by asking her where she wanted to go.  “I don’t much care where–” said Alice. “Then it doesn’t matter which way you go,” said the Cat. I remember, when I was learning how to share my faith with others as a shy teenager, being told to ask the following question: “If you died tonight, do you know where you would go?” There is no question that human life is best when it filled with purpose and intention. As James smith argues, in his brilliant book Desiring the Kingdom, human beings are primarily intentional beings, people who engage the world with a sense of direction, of purpose. However, when this purpose is reduced to an otherworldly destination when we die, we miss the glory and life-giving power of Jesus’ mission and message. So, it would probably be very helpful if we could discern something of how Jesus understood the best of human purpose.

In Luke’s Gospel, as Jesus begins his ministry after his baptism and then his trial in the wilderness, the sense of intention is remarkable. The Gospel notes that he is “filled with the Spirit’s power”. This, of course, resonates with Luke’s particular emphasis on the work of God’s Spirit in the life of Jesus, and in the lives of his followers. The power of the Spirit is a confirmation that God’s Reign has indeed come, as Peter confirms in his sermon in Acts 2, and that Jesus is really the “Servant of the Lord” of Isaiah. It also means that there can be no doubt that Isaiah’s words – “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me” – are legitimately claimed by Jesus. But, the Gospel also notes what this power of God’s Spirit achieved in Jesus’ ministry. He taught regularly, and was praised by the people. By the time he gets back to his hometown, Jesus has developed quite a reputation. It was common, in the synagogue of Jesus’ day, for visiting preachers and teachers to be asked to read and teach, and so the scene depicted in Luke’s Gospel is a familiar one for the people of the time.

But, it is significant, especially for the purpose of the Gospel of Luke, that Jesus picks a reading from Isaiah which speaks about God’s purpose for God’s chosen one, and for God’s people. This reading, which includes some words from Isaiah 61:1-2 and Isaiah 58:6, is perhaps one of the best descriptions of the Reign of God to be found in the scriptures, and references back to the Day of Jubilee in the Old Testament. This is no, “where will you go when you die?” purpose statement. This is all about the state of the world now, and how we choose to live in it. It is Jesus taking as his mandate the call to bring God’s justice, equality, liberation and grace to all. Then, by claiming that the Scripture is fulfilled, he states that this Reign of God is here. It’s just another version of the first sermon in Mark’s Gospel: “The kingdom of God is near. Repent and believe the Good News.” (Mark 1:15)

It’s one thing to have a purpose for our lives. It’s quite another to ensure that the purpose we have is worthy of our time, energy and commitment. The purpose of Jesus is a grand and transforming one. His purpose is not to form a religion, or even start a church. It’s not to provide a way to escape the world for some heavenly bliss. From the beginning, by quoting Isaiah, Jesus proclaimed that his mission is the way to a healed world. As the church grew in their understanding of what this meant, they proclaimed a vision of the entire cosmos becoming whole and united in Christ (See Ephesians 1:10).

The question we must face is whether we will believe him. And, if we do, whether we will have the courage to follow him into this mission. If so, we will have to face the struggle to live in community, the challenge to live with simplicity, and the call to participate in the work of justice, healing and transformation in our world. We will have to release the simple, selfish, childish faith that sees Jesus as nothing more than “my Saviour” who “saves me and ensures I will go to heaven when I die”, and we will have to open ourselves to the uncomfortable values of the Reign of God. It may not all be sunshine and roses. It may not be easy and comfortable. But, for a human life, I can’t think of a better way to go.

Original post at http://sacredise.com/blog/?p=1232

A Lectionary Reflection on John 2:1-11 for Epiphany 2C

Have you ever tried to tell a story and been frustrated because the other  person failed to listen long enough to make all the connections, and so got the wrong message? This is the danger we face when we approach the Gospel reading for this week. The “water to wine” story is so well known, but we need to be careful not to ignore the connections the writer is trying to make. Three significant ideas appear in this story. They are key to John’s message about Jesus, and the story is designed to help us understand them.

The first verse of John 2 specifies that the wedding was “on the third day”. This is the first idea.The start of John’s Gospel takes us quickly through a collections of the first days of Jesus’ ministry. We’ see John the Baptiser’s encounter with Jesus, and those of various disciples who respond to him, and finally decide to follow him. Now, on the third day something happens that completely changes how they see Jesus. The reason for the reference to the third day, is to make sure we don’t miss John’s primary message. All Jesus’ signs are important, but none as powerful or significant as the third day of all third days – the day of resurrection. The water-to-wine incident is a metaphor for the resurrected life that Jesus will experience and will offer to all. Resurrection is not just about coming alive again. It’s about a whole new quality of life – eternal life, life of the ages, life lived in the fullness of God’s Reign and God’s enlivening power. Until we have entered the life of resurrection – or been “born again” as Jesus expresses it to Nicodemus in John 3 – our lives are as plain and ordinary as water. But once we’ve tasted of Christ’s life we experience the good wine of resurrection. Here at the outset of the Gospel, John is already pointing to what will come, and to the offer of life that his Gospel presents.

In order to receive this life, though, we need to recognise in Jesus the glory of God. Glory is the second significant idea. In the prologue, John mentions that believers have “seen his glory, glory like that of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth” (1:14b CEB). This glory is the manifestation of God through the human Jesus. It is part of what Jesus means when he says that whoever has seen him has seen the Father (14:9). But, the particular glory to which John refers is “full of grace and truth”. For John the primary expression of God’s glory is in the crucifixion of Jesus. So, once again, John is pointing us forward, by showing, in this simple act of compassion, the glory of God that will be fully revealed on the cross. Why should it be this act that reveals Christ’s glory? To run out of wine would have had severe consequences for the bridal couple and their family. It was the kind of social mistake that could cause them to be ostracised for years to come. Although much of Jesus ministry involved making the outcasts welcome, here he prevents people from becoming outcasts in the first place – which, surely, is the quintessential expression of the inclusivity of God’s Reign.

The final result of all this is that the disciples “believe in him” (2:11). Belief is the third significant idea. John often draws a distinction between faith that is based in miracles and faith that is based in the man. In the latter part of Chapter Two, the Pharisees ask for a sign so that they can believe. Jesus’ response is most unsatisfying for them. However, many people do believe because of the miraculous signs Jesus performs. Nicodemus even comes to Jesus at night because of these signs.But, awe at miracles was not the kind of faith Jesus was looking for. He sought a faith that recognised God’s glory in himself. This is the kind of faith that the disciples begin to experience in this story. It is also the kind of faith to which the Gospel calls its readers (see 20:31).

So, what does all of this mean for us? Jesus invites us to be transformed, to enter into an unquenchable aliveness that transcends even death. However, we do not find this life in miracles, we find it in the person of Jesus and in the reality which he proclaimed and demonstrated – the Reign of God. So, we are called to look beyond the signs we may encounter to the glory of God in Christ. We are called to trust that Jesus really does show us the character and purpose of God – gracious and true and sacrificial. And then, if we will allow it to, this experience of God’s glory can lead us to faith that enables us to live this resurrection life. If we are able to make this journey, then the true miracle is in the life we discover – a life that endures and that remains fully engaged and active no matter what crosses may try to quench it.

Photo Credit: Water Into Wine by Daniel Vincent (from Flickr.com)

Original post at http://sacredise.com/blog/?p=1230

A Lectionary Reflection on Luke 1:39-55 for Advent 4C

This Sunday, the last in Advent before the Christmas celebration, brings Mary into the spotlight. There is always a lot written about her at this time of year, and rightly so. But, in this reflection I want to explore what happens in my heart as I read her story, rather than get too caught up in the scholarship around her predicament. There a few details that must be asserted before I can share my impressions, though.

There is no question that Mary’s pregnancy was a humiliating experience for her.In those days, to become pregnant by a man who was not your betrothed was adultery. The betrothal was tantamount to a marriage commitment. If Joseph had rejected her, it could have been a death sentence for her by stoning. For a young girl just looking forward to starting our her life, pregnancy was, pretty much the worst thing that could have happened to her. To accept such pregnancy, and live with the consequences was a lot for her to be asked. But, accept it she did. And she obviously meditated deeply on its meaning – or at least the Gospel writer portrays her as having done so – because her song, her Magnificat, shows that this was about far more than just the birth of a child.

As I read the account in Luke I am amazed and touched by three details in the story.

1. As much as it is human and natural to seek to isolate ourselves when we are faced with suffering or humiliation, Mary does not do this. Instead, she seeks out a relative – Elizabeth – an older woman who is going through a similar experience of "unnatural" birth. Somehow Mary recognises her need for a support network and goes in search of one. It’s a reminder to me that tough times call for deeper connection, not greater disconnection.
2. Mary also realises that she is completely out of control. She cannot change her circumstances. She cannot determine Joseph’s response. She has no influence over the outcome of this pregnancy, which could mean her death. Yet, while I suspect that there was a lot of fear and grief, Mary somehow seems to retain her faith and a deep patience as she awaits the final outcome. It’s tempting to me, when tough times hit, to go into a panic of activity, doing anything and everything to try and fix things as soon as possible. Sometimes I get lucky and I am able to resolve things quickly, but often in my life the panic has made things worse, and it’s only been once I’ve slowed down and reflected on the situation that a solution has come to me (and I say it this way on purpose – it’s not usually a solution I "find" but one that "finds me").
3. In spite of her personal circumstances, Mary remains connected to the hopes and dreams of her people. Her celebration song – which, in the form it appears in the Gospel, I recognise to be the product of a years of theological reflection on the part of the Christian community – is not just about her own experience of motherhood, but reflects on God’s liberating work of justice and salvation in the world. In some way, it seems, Mary was aware that what she was carrying was not just a baby, but the birth of a completely new order for the world – what we know as God’s Reign. In spite of her own uncertain future, and the humiliation of her circumstances, Mary remains aware of, and concerned about, the plight of her people. She shares their dream of liberation, and aligns herself with it. It’s an amazingly selfless attitude, considering her situation.

If Mary shows me anything through all of this, it’s that Advent and Christmas are not primarily about a baby. They are about God’s subversive, empire challenging Reign. And they are about the unavoidable call for us to participate in God’s liberating, saving work. And, if a teenage girl could do it to this extent, I have to ask myself: What’s my excuse?