For the Sake of Jesus

A young couple trembled as they walked along the beach. The man nervously went over his proposal again in his head. The woman just had that feeling deep in her soul as their feet tread along the water’s edge. He would ask the most important question of his life up to this point and she would either make him the happiest man alive or the walk back to the car would be very awkward. As the butterflies turned into pterodactyls the young man thought, “Whatever happens, I am doing this for the sake of love.”

A woman in her early thirties shook as she contemplated what was about to take place. She had recently achieved the job of her dreams and was happily pursuing her career when she and her husband had discovered the overwhelmingly happy news that they were expecting their first child. Agonizingly she had decided—with the support of her partner—that her dream of being a mother would take priority—for now—even over the career path that she so loved. As she walked into her supervisor’s office, she composed herself because after all she thought, “I am doing this for the sake of love and for the sake of my family.”

A man in his early forties flinched as he saw his own reflection in the mirror. It was early in the morning and he barely recognized his own face. “When did I get so old?” he muttered to himself. He had not slept well…again. He was having to get in early and work late, but he was chasing his dream of owning his own business. He packed lunches and washed dishes in the predawn light. Then, as he kissed his still sleeping children on the way out the house he nodded to himself as he thought, “This is hard, but I am doing this for the sake of love, for my family, and for my career.”

A middle aged couple nervously fidgeted as they sat in their financial planner’s office thinking about the challenges that lay ahead. Both partners had worked long and hard in their individual careers, so that they might be able to pay for their children’s education and one day retire. However, as their financial planner let them know that their portfolio had not performed well over the last year there was a tough decision upcoming—afford their children’s first choice college decisions or retire when they had planned. At that moment, the couple almost cut each other off to say what they were both thinking, “I’ll keep on working…after all I am doing this for the sake of love, our family, and our children.”

A brother and sister both in their late sixties shuddered as they picked up artifacts from their childhood home. While they both had lived far away, they decided to move home in the last six months to take care of their aging parents. Painfully they had to cut short their careers to ensure that their mother was not alone. For she was taking care of their father who was suffering from Alzheimer’s disease, and their mother could no longer do it on her own. It felt difficult to move their families away from where they had lived, but since their own children were out of the house this felt easier. Just then, the sister said what the brother was thinking, “After all we are doing this for the sake of love and for mom and dad.”

What is it that you do for the sake of love? For the sake of family? For the sake of a career or calling? For the sake of your children, grandchildren, mother, father, sister, or brother? Is there any length you wouldn’t go to for them?

But, what is it that you are willing to do for the sake of Jesus? What about for the sake of the Good News? In the cold light of this Lenten Season we see what Jesus was willing to do for you and for me. We watch him walk the way of love from Galilee to Jerusalem and up Calvary to the Cross. As we look at that path forged ahead of us by Christ, blazed before by years and years of penitent devotion, we notice where we are today. It is as though we see a big flashing star on the roadmap of Lent that reads, “YOU ARE HERE!” And, where we are is where Peter was a long time ago—wondering what is it exactly that I am willing to do for Jesus’ sake?

Peter quite clearly saw who Jesus was. He recognized that in his teacher God had made real all those promises to set the People of God free—free from oppression, free from bondage, free from themselves, free from a broken system, and free from sin. Making this realization about Jesus from our vantage point pales in comparison to the leap that Peter made. Sure, Jesus had healed, he had taught, and he had inspired, but to jump from these attributes to believing Jesus was the Son of God and Savior of all would have been outlandish. And yet, this is precisely what Peter did.

Of course, when he bounded off in the direction of faith he so very quickly felt the gravitational pull of his own human desires. Peter saw the truth of Jesus’ messiaship, but the follower could not help but get swept up in his own desire of what Jesus being the messiah might mean for him. A messiah who conquers the forces of evil in this world sounds pretty good until one learns that the way this is accomplished is through suffering and hardship. Peter observed quite quickly that it would not only be Jesus who was undergoing trials and tribulations—it would be his followers as well. So, Peter stumbled or rather he became a stumbling block to Jesus—and Jesus pointed this out by calling him Satan, which means stumbling block.

After Jesus decried Peter’s focus on human things and not divine things, he called together not only the disciples but all his followers. As we profess to follow Jesus too, he was calling us close by as well. Jesus laid out the most basic tenant of walking after him—to be a Christian one must follow Jesus the Christ and to follow Jesus the Christ one must take up one’s cross and follow. But who among us would be so foolish as to actually want to do this? Who among us would actually be so foolish as to follow him? Jesus makes it clear, anyone who wants to live.

“For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake and for the sake of the gospel, will save it.” Paradoxically enough to gain life we must lose life. To gain true life we must not just lose life but lose it for the sake of Jesus and the good news. So again I ask, “What is it that you are willing to do for the sake of Jesus and the sake of the Good News?”
Living life in Christ is difficult. Those who say it is not are lying to you or they are lying to themselves. Making the decision to walk after Jesus may sometimes be easier for us personally, for our families, for our relationships, and for our lives. Other times though following Christ will mean carrying the cross. Remember before it was a fashion accessory it was a torture device meant to humiliate, inflict pain, and kill its victims.

We sacrifice a lot in our lives for the sake of ourselves, for our careers, for our families, and even for love. Sometimes though you and I must face impossibly difficult decisions when we have to sacrifice even something very good, so that we can follow after Jesus—the incarnation of the ultimate good.
What are you willing to do for the sake of Jesus and the sharing of his good news that God loves all—no matter what? Will you care for immigrants, refugees, wounded veterans, the homeless, the mentally ill, the poor, the imprisoned, the other even when it makes you uncomfortable? Will you stand up for real change to stop war, famine, environmental degradation, poverty, domestic abuse, murder, and gun violence even though you might lose friends over it? Will you show respect for and search for dignity in others even when they do nothing to deserve it?

What are you willing to do for the sake of Jesus? Are you willing to carry your cross? Are you willing to lose your life for his sake? Are you willing to walk after Jesus?

How Divine!

In the midst of the conversation between Jesus and Peter in this coming Sunday’s Gospel lesson Jesus calls his follower Satan, but that might not be the most crushing accusation from the teacher. While we can quickly get trapped in visions of Peter donning a red spandex suit with horns and a pitchfork in hand, Jesus’ problem with Simon Peter emanates from a misunderstanding of what Jesus came to do as the messiah. To help us better understand Jesus' words for Peter I would like to offer an analogy that came out of yesterday’s staff meeting here at St. John’s on this very subject.

On Tuesday mornings the staff meets to discuss our ministry together, and we usually begin that work by reading the coming Sunday’s Gospel lesson. Yesterday as we were talking about Peter’s recognition of Jesus as the messiah, the image of a line connecting points emerged. Peter seems to have gotten the right starting point established—Jesus is the messiah. He may have even gotten the end point right—if he was indeed thinking that at the fulfillment of all things Christ will rule in love. However, the reason Jesus tells Peter he is Satan stems from the follower’s inability to see the true path that leads from point A to point B. Peter's thinking being even a little off will change the direction of their shared ministry. Jesus quickly chastised Peter because his trajectory was off and in the end Peter would be seeing Jesus’ messiahship falsely. He was thinking of human things, not divine things, but let us explore briefly how Peter was off base.

God’s People had been suffering a long time—and to tell you the truth many of God’s people still suffer to this day. The hope and expectation felt by those people long ago rose from a belief that the messiah would bear freedom from oppression. Peter saw this hope in the future. He saw Jesus rightly as the messiah. However, he completely missed that the way from Jesus to that hope was not a walk down easy street. Jesus knew that this mistake would be so tempting to make that he viciously guarded against it even using the term Satan in the process. Still, another layer exists to Jesus’ chiding of Peter.

Peter had given up his life and livelihood to walk after Jesus. He saw healings. He heard teachings. He witnessed demons being cast out. He could see that Jesus was special and he hoped that Jesus was the one who had come to free God’s People. When he voiced this belief that Jesus was that hope incarnate I imagine it may have even shocked him. Making these types of realization can be so disorienting that when we make them we scurry quickly back into the shadows of doubt. We witness this later in Mark’s Gospel account when Peter sees Jesus’ transfigured and does not know what to do, so he offers to build a house. Peter, like all of us, gets freaked out by the holy. It’s just human nature. When Peter both saw Jesus as messiah and told him he could not suffer he was being human.

Jesus challenged Peter by calling him a stumbling block and then pointing out his fault: he was focused on human things. Peter could not in that moment grasp the divine things in his midst. He is not alone in this. We may think Peter is silly because he doesn’t get it, but how often do we miss the divine weaving all things into creation at this very second? Do we not all miss God in our midst on a daily basis? When was the last time you stopped to truly take in God's handiwork right in your life?

In this moment, Jesus names for us the most basic sin—we are focused on our way and not God’s way. This dates all the way back to our first parents in the Garden of Eden when Adam and Eve focused upon their will, their desire, their way instead of God’s. Lent is this perfect season for us to see all the ways that we are blinded by human perception such that we miss divine revelation all around us. May we set our minds not on human things, but divine things. May we recognize Christ here in our midst.

There Is No B-Team

What does Rudy have to do with following Jesus? Let's find out!

If you have seen the movie Rudy you know Daniel “Rudy” Ruettiger grew up in Joliet, Illinois during the 1960s harboring a deep desire to play football for the University Of Notre Dame. The only trouble came in that Rudy was not big enough, fast enough, or strong enough to play for the Fighting Irish. Well, that and he did not make good enough grades to make it into the academically rigorous institution. Oh, and he did not have the money to actually afford schooling at Notre Dame. Still, for Rudy he would not give up his dream.

Attempting to get his grades up, Rudy attended a local community college near South Bend where Notre Dame is located. He worked on the grounds crew for minimum wage. Being homeless he snuck into the groundskeeper’s office to sleep somewhere at night. All the while Ruettiger kept alive his dream of playing for the football team.

When Rudy discovered he was dyslexic he sought help to overcome his learning disability. He pulled up his grades just in time to transfer from the junior college to Notre Dame. After walking on to the team—playing without a scholarship—Rudy garnered the affection of teammates as he worked harder than most out of the spotlight on the practice squad. Eventually the coach promised to allow Rudy to dress for one home game his senior year, but that coach was let go and a new coach was brought in to coach the team.

Finally, during the last home game the other seniors including some All-American players said they would give up their spots to allow Rudy to play in their place. Eventually the coach conceded allowing Rudy to dress against Georgia Tech. The crowd began to cheer for Rudy as the game got out of hand in Notre Dame’s favor. Still the coach would not allow Rudy to see playing time. As Rudy played defense he needed the offense to score quickly at the end of the game so that he might get to play—and that was exactly what happened.

When Rudy got onto the field on kickoff duty he sprinted down the field, but as he did not make a tackle he would not be in the record book. He stayed on to play one defensive series. As he did, Rudy sacked the quarterback and the game ended with the other players carrying Rudy off the field. The story of Rudy stands out as a profound example of staying faithful to God’s calling for us in much the same way that God called Matthias whom we celebrate today.

After Judas betrayed Jesus, collected his money, and subsequently committed suicide, the disciples were missing a twelfth member. In the days between Jesus’ Ascension and the Spirit coming at Pentecost the Apostles prayed passionately in Jerusalem. There Peter felt inspired to fill that open position, but who would the Spirit call?

The disciples decided that this person need have been with them throughout the whole of Jesus’ earthly ministry. Joseph called Barabbas and Matthias were disciples of Jesus. They were there at Jesus’ miracles and at his teachings, they were there during Holy Week and Jesus’ Passion, and they were there even as all felt lost. Barabbas and Matthias were not practice squad disciples, nor were they B-team apostles. They were quiet, persistent, and faithful servants of Jesus. Perhaps even more than Peter, James, or John these disciples responded to God’s calling without any of the popularity or spotlight.

As the Spirit called through the casting of lots, Matthias was chosen to take Judas’ place. We do not know anything more than this about the life of Matthias, and to tell you the truth, it is better this way. The out of the way example that Matthias provides us inspires us not to be disciples for show or for some award. Rather, we are called to hear God’s calling, God’s dream for us and to pursue it without wavering or hesitation. Like Rudy we are charged to hold fast to the hope God puts into our hearts. When obstacles arise may we trust that God’s dream stands bigger than them.

May we follow the good example of Matthias trusting that there are no B-team disciples. May we dream with God hearing the calling for our lives. May we live as quiet, persistent, and faithful servants of Jesus following him whether or not we get praise or condolence in the process.

Losing In All Three Worlds

The Very Rev. Cynthia Kittredge and Dr. Steve Bishop laid down an almost unforgettable way of examining Holy Scripture during my first Bible class in seminary. They emphasized that three worlds exist when approaching a biblical text: the world behind the text, the world of the text, and the world in front of the text. The world behind the text refers to the world in which that passage was written. What were the writers thinking, believing, or even eating for dinner? The world of the text means the stand alone piece of literature. Is it poetry, a story, a recipe, a law, a prophecy, an instruction manual, or something else? Finally, the world in front of the text is the entirety of what the reader brings to that piece of scripture. What is going on in the news, in one’s life, and even what did one eat for breakfast? If one does not intentionally approach a piece of scripture these worlds can bleed into one another and one can inadvertently or maliciously co-opt God’s word to say some dangerous things. Or, at the very least one can miss the true depth of a passage. As we look at this coming Sunday’s Gospel, all three worlds cry out for attention—especially around the theme of giving up one's life.

Behind the text: The Gospel according to Mark is the shortest telling of the Good News of Jesus Christ. While we attribute it to John Mark (see Acts 12), modern scholars do not agree that he authored it alone. Context clues, namely the destruction of Jerusalem in chapter 13, a chaotic time filled with upheaval and loss, point to this being written before 66 CE, which would make it the earliest of the four Gospel accounts.

As to our specific text, the term messiah stands out as a particularly loaded one. At the time of writing, no standard set of criteria would have been agreed upon that depict the messiah—in much the same way as today it has multiple meanings. In other words, messiahship was a big blank canvas onto which people of the day would have flung their own personal hopes or dreams. One criteria though does seem almost universal when referring to the messiah and that is the ability to free God’s people. This leads us into the world of the text.

Of the text: When Peter identifies Jesus as the messiah, instead of John the Baptist, Elijah, or another prophet, he makes a bit of a leap. For while what Jesus had already done in Mark’s version of the story was fantastic, it did not line up with many people’s overarching definition of messiahship. There were many healers in the day—perhaps not as powerful as Jesus; however, a messiah was different.

At that point in Mark Jesus had begun to overturn the oppressive spiritual powers that held the People of God enslaved, but he had not yet made an impact on the political-religious power structure. Peter identifying that Jesus was the messiah would have been somewhat of a leap. Although Peter’s realization was profound and ahead of its time, we soon discover that Peter had his own beliefs about what it meant.

An important device to keep in mind within Mark’s storytelling finds its way into this section. Nothing in Mark happens in a vacuum—everything connects! Peter gets the answer correct, but misunderstands what true messiahship means. Jesus’ teaching about what the messiah must undergo flows from Peter’s proclamation and neatly folds into Jesus’ teaching about the ramifications of being a follower of the messiah.

Additionally the shift from specifically talking to the disciples about Peter’s misunderstanding of messiahship and broadening the audience to the larger crowds provides another layer to this story. As Jesus calls the crowds, he gives us one of the great paradoxical teachings of our Faith: “Those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel will save it. For what will it profit them to gain the whole world and forfeit their life? Indeed, what can they give in return for their life?” Jesus caps off the teaching referring to standing firm in one’s belief in him even in the face of persecution.

Right after this passage in the text, although six days later in actual time, Jesus will take Peter, James, and John up a high mountain to witness the Transfiguration. Many scholars put that mountaintop moment as the turning point in the story for when they come down they go to Jerusalem; however, as previously stated everything is connected in Mark’s storytelling. Without the difficult teaching on true discipleship, gaining life, and self-sacrifice the disciples and we might believe that following Jesus is only about mountaintop moments. This bit in Mark seemingly tells us that when we recognize the all-powerful messiah in our presence if we are to follow him it will not be about grandiose fanfare, privilege, or power. Rather, following Jesus the true messiah will require our lives whether we die for him or live for him. This fittingly enough brings us to the world in front of the text.

In front of the text: Our lectionary has done the preacher and the congregation no favors in laying out the last couple of Sundays. The Last Sunday of the Epiphany we were up on the mountain witnessing the Transfiguration. The First Sunday in Lent we jumped back to Jesus’ baptism and his being sent into the wilderness. Now we hop back to right before where we were on the Last Sunday of the Epiphany… come on! It feels a bit disjointed, but the preacher might be able to use it to her advantage. As the mountaintop moment may be fresh in the congregation’s mind, the preacher can then challenge the gathered body not to get stuck on the mountain. Of course, this theme and approaching loss more generally speaks to many elements of our current societal existence.

Many headlines today focus upon loss and suffering: another school shooting, another sexual assault, another political scandal, another environmental crisis, another explosion in the Middle East, and on and on and on. With all of the pain that scrolls along the bottom of our screens, pops up on our smart phones, or emanates from our car’s speakers we may feel maxed out on hardship, a sort of vicarious pain as we attempt to empathize with those around the world. If one’s heart feels calloused Jesus’ words about losing one's life may very well fall upon unsympathetic ears. So, a great challenge exists for the preacher this week.

Challenge: Approach this story, which touches upon lose in all three of the worlds surrounding the text, providing the congregation an opportunity for their hearts to be softened, their lives given up for Jesus’ sake, and the Good News of the Cross to be proclaimed. Jesus’ call to follow does not require one to intentionally seek suffering like some sort of masochist. However, standing up to the oppressive forces now just like long ago does require one’s life.

More Than Just Dazzling Clothes

Was Jesus' Transfiguration just an ancient Tide ad, like this one? (http://bit.ly/2ElkWyE)

Last Sunday evening, as our youth gathered around a television screen to watch Super Bowl XLII—enjoying food and fellowship in the process—I could not help but chuckle a few times. We were playing advertisement bingo, so the room grew a bit quieter during the commercial breaks when we all tried to figure out if the next spot would bring us closer to yelling those marvelous words, “That’s a BINGO!” Some people claimed that this year’s lot of ads lacked luster, but at least a few drew rave reviews from our youth. One of our favorites I dare say was the Tide detergent commercial.

The advertisement in question begins with a somewhat familiar actor—David Harbour from the Netflix series Stranger Things. Harbour steps from one type of endorsement to another: “Just your typical Super Bowl Car ad, right?” “Or a hilarious beer ad,” Or a fragrance ad. But nope, we soon find out it’s a Tide ad. The other actors do not seem to comprehend that they are in a commercial about laundry detergent. They wonder, “What makes it a Tide ad?” The main character replies, “There’s no stains. Look at those clean clothes. What else would this be an ad for?” The humor heightens as Harbour debunks all the other potential advertisements—for diamonds, or cola, or a workout plan—leaving the audience pondering are all commercials with actors wearing clean clothes actually Tide ads? Mind-blown-emoji!

With this commercial fresh on my mind (pun intended) I found myself turning to our text for this morning. To tell you the truth I had a hard time getting passed Jesus’ dazzling white attire. How did his clothes become so bright? Was it a Tide Ad? No, beyond the bleaching power of that day and the mighty cleaning ability of today’s detergents, Jesus shone brightly before Peter, James, and John up on a high mountain. If we get stuck on the appearance of Jesus—and his special guests Moses and Elijah—we might simply believe this story highlights the mighty stage effects that the Son of Man could so easily conjure up (eat your heart out Super Bowl halftime show performers). And yet, this story of Jesus taking his inner circle of disciples onto a mountaintop gives us much more than a stunning wardrobe and marvelous special effects.

But, what actually happened when Jesus was transfigured? And, why does it matter to us?

How often do you use the words transfigure or transfiguration in your normal conversation? I bet not that often. I know I don’t say when spraying Shout onto my son’s dirty onesie, “Wow! That outfit was transfigured!”

Even the New Testament writers only employed this word four times. Once here in Mark, once in Matthew’s parallel Transfiguration account, and Paul utilized this word a couple of times in his letters (Romans and 2 Corinthians). While the same original word appears in all of these instances, we have been handed different interpretations of what this word means in our modern English.

Jesus was transfigured—as in his appearance changed—up on a mountain top in Mark’s and Matthew’s sharing of the Good News. Paul though used the same word and we hear it as a transformation of one’s mind. So which is it? Is it simply the appearance of someone changing or is it a fuller transformation that is taking place?

Right before Jesus took his disciples up that high mountain, Peter recognized that Jesus was the Messiah. Peter also denied that Jesus would willingly undergo any suffering, which resulted in Jesus calling Peter Satan. And yet, a thread connects these events: Peter recognized Jesus as the Messiah, then Jesus appeared in a manner befitting the Messiah.

So, it’s just about one’s appearance being bright? Are we back to our Tide ad here? Is it only about looking good? Is it simply about showing up in dazzling white attire? No, the Transfiguration calls us not only to see Jesus changing before our very eyes, but also God transforming us!
When Jesus was transfigured before the disciples his appearance changed, but as he came off of that mountain he was not still dazzling bright blinding everyone in his path. So, maybe this moment was about the disciples’ reception and understanding of Jesus changing as much as his appearance being altered? We do not often talk about transfigurations in our own lives, but we do speak frequently about transformation!

We celebrate the Transfiguration every year at the end of the Season after Epiphany and right before the Season of Lent. In a moment when we experience an Epiphany about who Jesus is we are challenged not to get too attached to it. We cannot build booths to hold onto the experience. Instead we are called to allow this moment to transform us. This Transfiguration is not only about Jesus’ appearance, but it is about also our perception of him as the Messiah.

Here we see the transformed, transfigured Jesus in our very midst, and how can we not be changed? This is why we celebrate this occasion every year because we are people who witness the Messiah’s transformational power and we cannot help but be overcome by it! The Transfiguration of Jesus calls us to be transformed too. But, what do we do after it’s all over, after the cloud goes and the words “This is my Son the Beloved, listen to him” fade?

Jesus did not hide away on a mountaintop basking long in the loving words of the Father. Instead, Jesus knew what lay ahead and he came down off that mountain. We too must walk this way with Jesus. Life in Christ calls us to go through peaks and valleys both! Certain moments we recognize quite clearly the bright, shining figure of Christ in our midst. Then, sometimes we can barely make out the obscured outline of Christ seemingly in the distance, but Christ dwells always more intimately to us than we can know or imagine!

We celebrate this moment of dazzling clarity right now because we love happy mountain moments—like hosting Diocesan Convention so very well this weekend, but the Transfiguration changes us such that we cannot stay up here. No, we are called to keep on walking, walking back down to everyday life in Christ, and soon to walk the pilgrim way of Lent. We journey with Jesus on this way to Jerusalem.

In this time between mountain and valley may we keep on focusing upon Christ and keep on walking with him! May we follow Jesus not just when things are bright and beautiful, but also when things appear dark and dreary. When the construction is noisy, when the bathrooms keep moving, when our favorite ministry is on hold; when we have more questions than answers, when we are annoyed with the way the world works, when we are frustrated with the powers that perpetuate the status quo; when we are sick, when we are frail, when we are broken; when we are burnt out, belligerent, or jaded. In those times just like when things are all sunshine and dazzling clothes—yes, like in a Tide ad—may we recognize and celebrate that Christ walks with us.

Christ Jesus walks with us transfiguring and transforming the way we go. As we go down the mountain to Jerusalem to Lent to Holy Week may we celebrate the Transfiguring love of Jesus who changes even the Cross and Death into Resurrection and Life. So, while everything is not a Tide Ad everything is a reminder of the Transfiguration, for everything is about God’s transforming love.

Wholehearted Diet

What makes for a good diet? As a child growing up in the days of the food pyramid, I recall that whole grains, fruits and vegetables, meat, and dairy were the core components of healthy eating. My parents instilled in me the goal of eating a balanced meal with foods from these four main food groups. When I went off to college I can remember being a bit overwhelmed though with the dining hall options.

McClurg Dining Hall—the cafeteria at Sewanee—provided a wealth of eating options: A home line with comfort foods like casseroles and mac n’ cheese, an Asian line with made-to-order stir fry options, a grill line with hot dogs, hamburgers, and fries, a salad bar, a sandwich bar, and a dessert bar! This does not even cover the wealth of back up options like a waffle bar, various cereals, numerous drinks, and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. The fifteen pounds I quickly gained at college were primarily from the wealth of choices, although I blamed it on wanting to bulk up to play college soccer… haha, yeah right! I can remember struggling that first year to make sure I ate balanced, healthy meals. There were even moments when I felt a little bad about not eating enough good stuff. Sound familiar?

In today’s Gospel lesson (Mark 7:14-23) Jesus has some concerns about people’s diets, but not in the way that I was concerned in college. The scribes and Pharisees—well-meaning religious folk of Jesus’ day—had become fixated on eating the right things. They even believed if people ate the wrong thing—something defiled, prepared with unclean hands, or not ceremonially washed—then it made someone unclean or bad. Jesus using basic anatomy outlined that food did not corrupt one’s heart, as it travels through the stomach and into the sewer—not into one’s heart. Even if we think we have surpassed this mistaken idea that some foods are bad, we only need to google diet books to find thousands of dieticians laying out what is good and what is bad. So what do we do?
Jesus challenges us to observe a different spiritual diet, instead of concentrating solely on what we eat. Of course, certain foods may not agree with us. Sure, some people are allergic or sensitive to certain items. Yes, particular foods provide a greater nutritional punch than others. Still, Jesus warns against believing that food makes one good or bad, instead of seeing how the actions of someone point back to the health of one’s heart.

We have all heard of a heart-healthy diet, well what about a whole-hearted-diet? Jesus laid out those terrible behaviors that stem from being corrupted within one’s heart—fornication, theft, murder, adultery, avarice, wickedness, deceit, licentiousness, envy, slander, pride, folly—but these are not default behaviors. How does one end up acting in such a way? Or, better yet, how does one live whole-heartedly instead of greedily or sinfully? Augustine of Hippo may help us out here.

Augustine was a man who lived his early adult life pretty dangerously. He kept on searching for God in places that were not sustaining and life-giving. Eventually though he found that living a selfish life may have provided fun activities, but it was devoid of any spiritual nutrition! After a profound conversion he wrote, “My heart will not rest until it rests in God.” He succinctly described the way we might have a spiritually rich diet—not by filling up with things that lack any real substance, but by resting in God first.

That long list of terrible things that Jesus outlined for us all seem to be symptoms of the same problem. Today we might describe them as addictions, but all of these negative actions are truly ways that we avoid growing closer to God—ways in which we avoid that rest when our souls rest in God. This is the true challenge of living a spiritually rich life. We must start not with good actions, but with the truth that God loves us first and our souls’ homes are resting in God. Once we reside there our actions will fruitfully stem from that place of immediate and transcendent love.

How’s your diet? Not the one focused on food, but the one that comes from your heart? God invites us to start by resting our hearts in Him. Then, we will discover that those actions through which we sought to fill an aching void (things like envy, deceit, or pride) will no longer be hungering—for God will have filled the otherwise unquenchable places within us. That is how we will have a spiritually rich life by starting with our hearts resting in God.

There’s A Catch

On Sunday night over 100 million people tuned in to watch Super Bowl XLII. What many deemed an instant classic could have just as easily devolved into a rage-inducing bummer of a contest. The Philadelphia Eagles scored on not one but two touchdown catches that tip-toed a thin line between what the National Football League calls a catch and what anyone with firing synapses would call a catch. Fortunately for everyone—except the New England Patriots and their fans—the two plays held up, even after official reviews. These plays in the Super Bowl though, stirred up a multi-season long debate that has mixed the gladiatorial with the philosophical, as jocks and league officials attempt to define what makes a catch a catch. A sporting body wondering what is and is not a catch has left many scratching their heads and even more flipping the channel. Still the question remains what makes a catch a catch?

Does a player have to maintain control even to the ground? How many feet does the player have to get in bounds? How about the football does it merely have to cross the plain of the goal line if the catch is to turn into a touchdown catch? Seemingly the list of questions goes on and on, and yet, all of this makes way too complicated something that ought to be simple.

There’s a saying recently repeated by a player on the winning side of the Super Bowl that applies to this gray-area of a sport: “If it looks like a duck, swims like a duck, and quacks like a duck, then it’s probably a duck!” (Otherwise known as “The Duck Rule”) This saying though applies to more than simply the rules of a game. It could just as easily apply to taking care of others as we live into the reign of Jesus, the Kingdom of God, and life in Christ!

In today’s Gospel lesson (Mark 7:1-13) the scribes and Pharisees have a problem with Jesus’ disciples. The tradition of the day stated that good followers of the Law would not eat with defiled hands, eat out of dirty dishes, or consume anything from the market that had not been cleaned. All of this seems good enough—and certainly practical enough; however, Jesus had a problem with the scribes and Pharisees criticizing his disciples. His problem though was not as much with the letter of the Law, as it was with the spirit of it.

Jesus saw those obsessed over religious law like many today might see the ridiculousness of several pages of rules to define a catch or a multi-million dollar study to tell us what a duck is. To Jesus the scribes and Pharisees had substituted the man-made practices for the God given commandments. In particular, Jesus struggled with the hypocrisy of one rule.

In this passage, Jesus pointed out the hypocrisy of obsessing over human procedure, like dirty dishes, instead of focusing on the weightier matters, like caring for the needy. Jesus used the practice of Corban to highlight how the religion of the day focused on selfish gain instead of selfless service. Corban in itself was a good thing, it was an offering to God. However, if giving that offering neglected one’s responsibilities of taking care of an aging family, then how could one possibly be doing the will of God?

When we focus upon the commandments of God we will always bring our humanity into it, but what must we do to ensure that we are not preferring our rules and traditions to taking care of the needy among us? Jesus would not advocate for ignoring one’s family, nor would he advocate ignoring giving to the work of God in this world. So, what must we do?

Following Jesus is hard. If people tell you it is easy they are lying to you or to themselves. To take care of one’s own affairs, one’s own family, and make an offering of love and thanks to God requires sacrifice. In fact though, if one goes about it earnestly one will discover that while it is difficult it is abundantly life-giving!

One might mistakenly hear in this reading that Jesus tells us to ignore tithing or giving altogether, but this is simply not the case. We are called to challenge our priorities and to give our first fruits to God proportionally and sacrificially. Then, we will find in that giving that our lives open up to how God transforms everything else into being enough for us. Selfish religious folks will very well advocate for the giving to the Church not because it would grow someone’s relationship with God, but because they selfishly wanted more for themselves. When we prioritize God first, our beloveds’ needs next, and everything else afterward we discover a great abundance in our lives.

We may fight all day long over what a catch is or is not, just like we might quibble over what are God’s commandments and what are human traditions; however, Jesus seems to have his own version of the duck test. He seems to say if it is about caring for the needy in this world, if it is about giving love to others, and if it is about sharing Good News, then it is God’s commandment. May we hold on to God’s commandments even if it means abandoning some of our traditions in the process!

Wait for the Lord

The Song of Simeon from Evening Prayer in the Book of Common Prayer

Maundy Thursday is still 57 days away—can you tell our staff had an all-day, 18-month calendar planning meeting today? Why bring up Maundy Thursday? Well, because that day during Holy Week when we remember Jesus’ commandment to love and his last supper with beloved friends taught me much about waiting.

Generally, I am terrible at waiting. Standstill traffic unleashes a beast within me. Some people believe I naturally took to Centering Prayer, but partially I practice it because it challenges my desire to go, do, and accomplish that often removes me from moments where relationships are formed. I am much more Martha than I am Mary, do-er rather than be-er. The Maundy Thursday service at St. Andrew’s, Birmingham where I grew up taught me how to wait though.

At the end of the Maundy Thursday service the lights are dimmed, all signs of the cross are covered, the altar is stripped, and the church is left bare. Once all of this ritual takes place at St. Andrew’s the congregation keeps watch. The entire night parishioners pray in the side chapel as they join Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane. My family would take an early watch, then go out for pizza afterward. Inadvertently or perhaps intentionally, my mom was incentivizing waiting. I learned to like waiting and watching, even if I got easily distracted.

When I went off to college Sewanee had a Gethsemane watch as well. Wanting to be a “cool” college kid I would take one of the late night/early morning spots each year. Waiting and watching does not come easily to me, nor does staying up to ridiculous hours. This practice gave me a tiny glimpse though into the life of Simeon who we read about in today’s Gospel lesson.

We are celebrating the Feast of the Presentation of Our Lord this evening. This moment when Mary and Joseph brought Jesus to the Temple to be purified as was in the Law of Moses. They offered the sacrifice. Then, they handed Jesus over to a man who had spent his entire life waiting. Simeon waited for the consolation of Israel. Simeon waited for the coming of the Messiah. Simeon waited for Jesus. I have a difficult time imagining the patience that Simeon possessed. He waited his whole life for this one tiny, shining moment! Perhaps even more remarkable was that he knew it when it happened.

Simeon understood, as this child rest in his arms that this was the moment he had been waiting for his entire life. On top of his great patience was his ability to recognize. He was aware enough to see that though this was a child he was the Messiah. All of this patient observance wrapped into one person definitely deserves celebrating. Maybe this is why we say or sing the Song of Simeon in Evening Prayer and Compline. His words serve as a reminder that we are all called to wait and watch for the Lord, and just maybe we have caught a glimpse of Christ in our midst this day.

The youth in the Diocese of Alabama have a particularly beautiful setting of the following words:

Lord, you now have set your servant free *
   to go in peace as you have promised;

For these eyes of mine have seen the Savior, *
   whom you have prepared for all the world to see:

A Light to enlighten the nations, *
   and the glory of your people Israel.

Glory to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit: *
   as it was in the beginning, is now, and will be for ever. Amen.

(Book of Common Prayer, 135).

When I sing these words and think about what Simeon did, I find myself marveling at the opportunity that lay ahead of all of us—right here in the present moment. Each of us is called to be like Simeon. Even if we are bad at waiting, even if we have to bribe ourselves with pizza to learn how to wait better, even if we think it will kill us we are called to wait and watch for Christ coming to us.

Simeon shows us that a lifetime of servanthood waiting and watching is worth it. As we wait may God give us freedom, peace, eyes to see a Savior who will enlighten the whole earth! Let us wait for the Lord and may we see God coming to us.