Sunday, June 1, 2014

Sermon - Ascension of Our Lord


Ascension Day -  Year A

June 1, 2014                                                                                                                                                   

Luke    24:44-53

 

            The Ascension of Our Lord

 

 

It came to my attention that my offering in this week’s e-news might have created some confusion.  If you don’t get the e-news (you can ask to be added) or if you haven’t read it, don’t worry about finding a copy.  I am going to tell you everything I said there, this time (hopefully) with a lot more clarity and precision.

 

The confusion arose over my comments regarding visitors.  I suggested (no, I stated) that the 40 days between Easter and Ascension are NOT the season for visitors.  I suggested (I guess I sort of stated) that during these 40 days we might need to set aside our typical interest in identifying and inviting the visitor to come with us to God’s house.  These 40 days may be better spent (I hope that doesn’t create another opportunity for confusion), these 40 days may be better spent making sure that those of us who are so eager to do the welcoming are ourselves actually ready to continue with what comes after we have passed through those initial welcoming stages.

 

What comes AFTER those initial welcoming stages isn’t nearly as inviting as what comes during those first couple of years.  What comes AFTER those initial welcoming stages is a bit more difficult to comprehend than the messages offered to the general population.  What comes AFTER those initial welcoming stages doesn’t comfortably align itself with the way of the world and the world’s value systems.  What comes AFTER is not as easy.

 

Okay.  That was a bunch of teaser sentences.  Hopefully, I have gotten you interested in the whole notion of what comes “before” and what comes “after.”  Understanding the difference between “before” and “after” is the whole point of this sermon. 

 

First, look with me at your bibles, so we can understand that this isn’t simply a wild idea emerging from my brain, but is actually what the bible says.

 

The critical time is the time AFTER Jesus is resurrected from the dead.  During that period of time, there are no new persons invited to participate.  The only actors are those who had already responded to Jesus’ invitation. 

 

Turn first to the last couple of chapters of John.  Over the past couple of Sundays, we have considered these stories.  Long Gospel lessons in which Jesus comes to the disciples and shows them his hands and his side (all except Thomas).  He comes to the disciples who are together in the upper room, with the doors locked, out of fear of those who had put Jesus to death.  Fear prevented them from inviting anyone into the room whom they could not trust. 

 

 

Now turn to Luke.  In Luke we get the story of the trip to Emmaus.  Do you remember that story?  Help me retell it to those who don’t:  Two disciples have fled Jerusalem, heading to Emmaus.  As they travel, Jesus himself comes and walks with them.  But they don’t recognize him.  The travelers plan to stop, but Jesus says he is going on.  They convince him to stay with them.  At dinner, he takes the loaf of bread and breaks it, and suddenly their eyes are opened and they recognize Jesus.  They go back to tell the others, and while they are there, Jesus shows up, again.

 

There is one really sort post-resurrection appearance in Matthew.  It is a well recited one.  It contains the “Great Commission” – Go therefore and make disciples of all nations…… 

 

There is nothing – literally nothing – in the oldest versions of Mark’s gospel.  Over the centuries, two differing endings were added by differing congregations.  You can easily recognize these stories as shorter re-telling of the material found in John and/or Luke.

 

During the days between Jesus’ resurrection and his ascension, he ONLY interacts with those who had already (at least once) made it through those initial welcoming stages.

 

Here is the first significant point of what I want to share with you this morning:  It was easy the first time – to get them to follow his lead.  In one account, all he does is look at them and say, “Follow me.”  And they do it.  They got out of their boats and followed him. 

 

Nathaniel follows Jesus simply because Jesus says he saw Nathaniel standing under a fig tree.

 

It was easy the first time.  And it was fun!  It was exciting!  Jesus feeds the 5,000 with a few loaves and a couple of fish.  Jesus casts demons into a herd of swine and they go crashing down into the sea.  Jesus spits on a man and restores his sight.  And then Jesus spits in the eyes of the righteous elite by telling them that his mangy band of followers are likely to enter the Kingdom long before those with impressive titles and beautiful robes.

 

It was easy the first time.

 

But this time.  It takes a bit more convincing.

 

What comes AFTER those initial welcoming stages isn’t nearly as action packed as what comes during those first couple of years.  What comes AFTER those initial welcoming stages is a bit more difficult to comprehend than were the messages offered from a mountain top or while walking along some dusty village path.  What comes AFTER those initial welcoming stages doesn’t comfortably align itself with the way of the world and the world’s value systems.  What comes AFTER is not as easy.

 

Time for the test.  Let’s see if I have managed to clear up the confusion and explain why the events which come after Easter are reserved for those who had already (at least once) thrown their hats into the Jesus ring.  What is different now?  Why is it more of a challenge? 

 

In those initial stages of welcome, we talk about things that make good sense, about the things which (if you choose to do them) won’t really adversely affect your life and your interactions with others.  “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you”?  Hey – they teach that in every elementary classroom.  Only they don’t calling Matthew 7:12, they call it the “Golden Rule.” 

 

“Love your neighbor”, good advice for those who want to avoid senseless squabbles over where to plant a hedge row.  But we give it out as good advice, not a command, found in 1 John 4:7-8.

 

That is what Jesus and the disciples did BEFORE.  But AFTER?  You got this whole thing about some “leader” who won’t even open his mouth in defense of his own cause.  The one we want to call “Lord,” refuses to accept the loyalty of subjects willing to draw the sword on his behalf.  After, we have the improbable and impossible story of a dead man come back to life.  AND, if that isn’t enough, he leads the disciples off to some mountain top and they watch as he is taken from among them.

 

Try to sell that as something fun and exciting and commonplace.

 

You know, you understand, how different it is AFTER than it was BEFORE.

 

Jesus spends 40 days trying to convince those who had said “Yes” to him once before to say “Yes” to him once again.  This time is isn’t as easy.  It isn’t as simple.  It isn’t as safe.  It won’t allow them to dabble, to stick in their toe and test the water.  They can’t make it a side-bar to their lives, or a comfortable compliment to a well-crafted existence among their peers. 

 

I apologize to any visitors – if in ANY way I have suggested that you are not supposed to be here.  Of course, you realize it is a trick.  We listen better when we think the person talking doesn’t want us to hear what they are saying.  That is why I whisper sometimes in my sermons.  If you shout, people ignore you.  If you whisper, they think you are telling some sort of a secret – and they are all ears!!!

 

Be all ears for where I want to end this sermon. 

When Jesus is lifted up – when he ascends into heaven – he leaves this whole shebang in the hands of those who had responded the first time.  He leaves the continuation of this mission with those who at previously said, “Sure, I will follow you.”  It is left it to James and John, to Bartholomew and Matthew.  When they die out, it falls to the next generation.  Which means it eventually falls to us.

 

Let’s admit that it is a tough task.  Let’s also admit that the handing on of the faith will die soon, unless the general membership of our communities resumes the task of passing it on.  Hired preachers don’t convince others to follow.  Only committed, un-paid followers can do that.  I fear that sometimes we talk too much about the fluff and the stuff that is easy and never really get around to the parts which are likely to separate us from those who are curious from those who are committed.

 

It is the most satisfying and rewarding thing possible to move through those welcoming stages and embrace what comes AFTER.  There is nothing – nothing – which can compare to the joy and sense of self which comes with following Jesus.  But, it isn’t easy; and it isn’t simple; and it isn’t something that we can do alongside the other things that we might want to do with our lives.  That is why it only took a single glance or a one-sentence invitation the first time that Jesus asked Peter and James and John to follow him.  The second time, it took a lot more convincing.

 

And it is likely to take a lot more convincing for us, too.

 

All four of the Gospels end here.  In each there is a note that from here the disciples go out into the world, to bring the world on board.  So, next Sunday we will return to those wonderful, welcoming stories.  And I do apologize for any unintentional suggestion that visitors should stay away.  What I won’t apologize for is stating the truth.  And the truth is that to be a follower of Jesus means accepting some pretty incredible things.  It means doing some very odd things.  Before Jesus dies and rises and is ascended, it was good advice, likely to make everyone’s life more enjoyable.  AFTER – well, after is another story.

 

Amen.

 

Sunday, May 25, 2014

Sermon - 6th Sunday of Easter


6th Sunday of Easter - Year A  
Acts 17:22-31 & John 14:15-21                                                                               
 
                                                          Speaking of the "unknown god"
 

            Paul stood in front of the Areopagus...  The next time someone asks me what campus ministry is all about, I think I will pull out this reading from Acts 17.  This chapter's imagery - as well as its content - captures what it means to speak the Word of the Church amid a pluralistic and segmented society.
 

            Paul stood in front of the Areopa­gus...  The words them­selves conjure up images of Greek architecture and learned old men; of deep thoughts and meaningful conversation.

 

            Paul stood in front of the Areopa­gus...  Here we have a wonderful state­ment of the work of the Church - a perfect lead-in to discuss the contrast between presumed importance and that which really matters;  to address the distinction between that which is valued and that which is truly valuable.

 

            Paul is in the city of Athens (that's the ancient Greek city of Athens, not the one with a cute little bulldog and sometimes surpris­ingly good football team.)  But ancient Athens, by the time Paul got there, had lost much of its former glory.  While it was once the seat of great schools and the home of wonderful philosophers, in the first century of the modern era Athens had no real political significance and commercially it was outshone by Cor­inth.  It is living off of its legends.  But, those legends are substantial.  Aristotle, Epicurus, Plato, Socrates - their lives had touched this city leaving behind a legacy of prominence sufficient to sustain the city for many generations to come.  Regardless of its current political or economic status, Athens was still a place of importance.

 

            The text informs us that Paul is making his impassioned speech in front of the Areopagus.  This would be the Athenian equivalent of a house of lords.  This was the gathering of the elder statesmen of this city-state.  Here, were the venerated leaders who had completed their elected term as archons (ar-chons.)   These elder statesmen spent their days entertaining new thoughts and philosophies.  Paul had been invited to speak because some of the Epicurean and Stoic philoso­phers had heard him in the agora (market­place.)  They had wanted to know about this teaching of his - these proclamations of foreign divinities, as they referred to them.  Verses just before those read for us this morning note that Paul had been telling the good news about Jesus and the resurrection.
 

            It was a favored pastime of the Athenians to tell and hear something new.  So they invited Paul to come and tell them more about this new teaching.

 

            I promise not to do a word-by-word analysis of Paul's entire address, but one of the first words he speaks is of tremendous impor­tance.  Look at it if you will.  Paul begins his address, "Athenians, I see how extremely RELIGIOUS" [this is the critical word] "how ex­tremely RELIGIOUS you are."  The Greek word has a double meaning.  It can be inter­preted "religious" or "devout," a word of compliment; or it could refer to one who is "supersti­tious," which would be somewhat of an insult.  Paul would no doubt look upon Athens as a hotbed of superstition, but would not have wanted to antagonize his hearers at the outset.  So he carefully selects a word which allows them to feel good about them­selves while also planting a seed for where he wants this speech to go.
 

            Paul communicates a deep and abiding respect for the knowledge of his hosts.  He is well aware of the advances which have been possible as a result of their study and dedication to their disciplines.  Paul does not enter their midst and insult them by dismissing the importance of that which they have made their life's work.  He stands in their midst and speaks kindly of the work which they have accomplished.  He honors their disciplines.  But, he calls into question the ability of their philosophies to finally provide the key to understanding life and our role in the cosmos.  That wisdom, he says, is to be found somewhere else.

 

            Paul makes use of a sight he has seen in their city.  He reports that while walking around Athens he had located an altar with the inscrip­tion, 'To an unknown god.'  Paul tells them that this god which is unknown to them is the God who has revealed himself in Jesus.

 

            The Athenians' fascination with new ideas and teachings proves to be fertile soil in which Paul can plant the seeds of fresh discovery.  He wants to help them to see this altar to an unknown god as an expres­sion of the desire to know the true God, the God whom they had been unable to capture in their statues of gold, silver or stone;  the God whom they had been unable to identify in their elaborate philosophies.

 

            "What therefore you worship as unknown," Paul tells this assembly of venerated elders, "This I proclaim to you."

 

            Paul's having been invited to speak to the Areopagus probably had something to do with comments he had made while in the agora.  He returns to those same thoughts here, using a few phrases which are right in line with the philoso­phies of his hosts.  Those who invited him may have done so as a way of furthering their own philosophical argu­ments.  He speaks of God as one who is not served by human hands, a point of contact with his Epicure­an listeners who stressed God's self-sufficiency.  His next words describing God as the author of life and breath and all things would have met with the approval of the Stoics in the crowd.  Paul is allowing them to see the good aspects of their world-view.  He is complimenta­ry of their attempts to understand what life is all about.  But, he pushes them to consider that their philosophies only uncover part of the puzzle.  Paul touches on what they have come to think, and then pushes them to consider how that which had been “unknown” has now become knowable.

 

            Paul is sharing the same conviction written by John in our Gospel lesson for today:  "You know him, because he abides with you, and he will be in you."

 

            In the end, this is the undoing of the Areopagus' willingness to listen to Paul.  Our reading for today ends with verse 31.  Verse 32 reads:  When they heard of the resurrection of the dead, some scoffed; but others said, "We will hear you again about this."   At that point Paul left them.
 

            Paul had exposed the limits of where their thoughts and theories could take them.  Paul had addressed the opportunities available just beyond the borders of where their reasoning could go.  Paul points out the foundations shared by their beliefs and his word about Jesus.  And then Paul invites them to embrace the opportunity to know that which till now has been for them an unknown god.

 

            Stoics and Epicureans are rather difficult to come by in our day and time, but there are others systems of belief with have taken their place.  Self-sufficien­cy is probably more of an issue for us than for any society which has gone before.  There remain many who find their gods in items fashioned out of gold or silver or stone.  Maybe now-a-days the material of choice is silicon.  I am grateful for all the advances which have been made by dedica­tion to lofty ideals and great aspira­tions.  But with Paul we need to affirm that these pseudo gods have their limits.  Christ is the God, unknown by far too many, who holds the package together.
 

            Paul stood in front of the Areopagus and said, "...I see how extremely religious you are in every way."  What would Paul say to us?  Are we religious (as in devout) or merely superstitious?  Do we come before God, at this altar to express our thanks and offer our praise for the One in whom we are placing our final confidence?  Or, do we come because we fear the consequences of not coming?  Is our offering an offering of ourselves to God?  Or, is it a tax, paid so as assure us a place in the sweet-by-and-by? 
 

            Presumed importance remains on the side of gadgets and devices which make our lives more comfortable.  Valuable are those who can organize and structure our interactions so as to result in the greatest good for the greatest number of people.  And yet, Paul's words claim there is but one thing which is important.  His presentation to the Areopagus states that the Word of God is the thing of greatest value. 
 

            Is this superstitious mumbo-jumbo, or is it our deeply held religious conviction?
 

Amen.

Sunday, April 27, 2014

Sermon - 2nd Sunday of Easter

John 20:19-31  

Sent – Be Not Faithless
 

I don’t think that this Gospel lesson is about Thomas.  I think it is about something else.  Our Tuesday evening bible study looks ahead at the readings for the coming Sunday.  I told them this week that I thought there was something more pertinent in these verses than a discussion about Thomas and his request to see what the other disciples had been allowed to see – without asking.  They weren’t convinced. 

So I tried again, on Wednesday, during the Closing Eucharist, to take some of the focus off Thomas by pointing out that it is only in recent issues of the Bible that we get the reference to him as “doubting.”  Here is where I need the help of Pastor Heyer, or Pastor Slice, or Pastor Emeritus Copenhaver.  Do either of you remember how that verb in verse 27 was translated in the good ole King James Version?  It wasn’t “doubt” that Jesus discouraged; it was “faithlessness.”  In the King James, Jesus tells Thomas “Be not faithless.”   “Faithless” could be taken as “doubt,” but it can imply a whole host of other things as well.  It is in the modern era, when discoveries of ancient geological events and/or significant biological alterations among the earth’s inhabitants that the opposite of “faith” became “doubt.”  In the stories of scripture, that which is on the opposite poll of faith would be fear.  Jesus tells his disciples, “Peace be with you.”  How many times does the Easter story contain the admonition, “Do not fear”?

Even with all that, I am still not sure I was sufficiently convincing.

So I am going to try again this morning, with you.  Look again at the reading.  See how the reading begins and ends.  Sure, there is that compelling story in the middle.  But doesn’t the structure of all that we are given to read nudge us in a direction somewhat broader than how one of the followers of Jesus takes action on what it is that Jesus returns to do?

 Jesus comes and stands among them.  He “breathes” on them.  But not with just any breath; he breathes on them and tells them to “receive.”  He breathes on them and tells them to “receive the Holy Spirit.”  He had promises them earlier (the reference is John 14:16 if you want to look it up in your bible), Jesus had promised them earlier that he would send the Spirit.  In John 14 he refers to the Spirit’s role.  He tells them, “I will give you another Advocate.”  “Advocate” – sometimes translated “Helper.”  Jesus breathes on them and tells them that Advocate has arrived, that Helper is come, the Holy Spirit has entered them as assuredly as the breath he has exhaled has entered their very own lungs. 

And receive they did.

If you want to see the evidence of that breath, look at the first lesson – the reading from Acts 2.  This sermon, of Peter’s, is preached in direct response to that breath – to having received the Holy Spirit.  Remember that Luke has two books in our Bibles – Luke and Acts.  So the exchange in which the Holy Spirit comes is told in Luke’s second book – Acts. 

Acts, chapter 2, will be our prime text in 43 days, when we observe Pentecost.  In that retelling of the story, the Hebrew word which can mean breath, or wind, or spirit is spoken of as a “wind;”  Acts 2:2 says they were together, in one place and “suddenly from heaven there came a sound like the rush of a violent wind.”  This wind, this breath, this spirit sweeps into the place where the disciples are gathered and “divided tongues, as of fire, appeared among them, and a tongue rested on each of them.” 

In Acts, there is no retelling of Thomas being absent.  In Acts, at the giving of the Holy Spirit, the disciples rush out into the street where there are devout Jews from every nation under heaven, and these disciples begin to speak, and all could hear as if in their own language.

As a result of this rushing wind, this breath - the disciples are empowered and emboldened and they begin right away to make a difference.   And the significance of that difference is real and palatable.  Jesus tells them it will be their task to forgive sins; their role to speak of sin bound so tightly to us that it is forever retained. 

Jesus comes to the disciples and he breathes on them, he tells them to receive the Holy Spirit – and then he tells them that it will be up to them and to the witness they give if any additional persons will “come to believe that Jesus is the Messiah.” 

The story of Thomas is an acknowledgement (but only an acknowledge-ment) that it can be very tough for us once we realize the enormity of the task which Jesus has entrusted to us.

This is what I believe today’s reading is about.  It is about the giving of the Holy Spirit; it is about having confidence in the breath which has entered us; it is about realizing that an empty tomb only has meaning when those for whom it means something open their mouths and use the breath that is inside them to proclaim “Chris is Risen!  Christ is Risen Indeed!  Halleluiah!”

I promised Russell that if I did spend this morning trying to convince everyone that this text is about being sent into the world, that I would give some suggests as to what one is to “do” once we are sent. 

The first, and most basic answer involves making sure that we realize we have “received” all we need for this undertaking.  Shift your focus off Thomas in this story and see (maybe for the first time) the confidence of the other ten disciples.  They confidently tell Thomas, “We have seen the Lord.”  That breath, that wind, that Spirit which had entered them emboldened them to make the only affirmation that needs to be made. 

In some communities of faith, there are additional markers associated with having received the Holy Spirit.  But those markers are an addition of later practitioners.  Again, in Acts, the baptism in Jesus’ name is the only step needed for the Spirit-fed life to take root.

Breathe in.  There.  You have it.  “Be not faithless.” 

Leave this place with courage. Do not be afraid.  There are fear-producing realities out there.  Some of them rode our shoulders into this assembly hall.  Some of them are pretty darn powerful.  But the stone has been rolled away and that angel is sitting on top of it and the admonition has been issued that while there are many hurts and pains and disappointments in our future we do not have to allow those to dominate our lives.  It is more than the power of positive thinking; it is an acknowledgement that there is something greater than the forces which oppose and oppress us and that that something greater has entered our lives and transformed the way in which we will live.  We will not live in fear. 

Jesus sends his followers out, equipped with the Holy Spirit, and he empowers them to set free those who are held in bondage.  ‘When you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven.’ 

I am sure that part of the reason the “sending” aspects of this text stood out to me has to do with the other activities associated with this day.  We are sending forth another group of students.  My colleague at Penn State responded to my Facebook post about “Farewell and Godspeed,” by saying “I sometimes wonder if it is doing harm to our psyches to say good-bye year after year after year.” 

It may.  But it isn’t only us.  It is every Christian community which gathers.  Every Sunday we send everyone forth.   The aim of the Christian Church isn’t to get you inside these doors; the aim is to strengthen you for what you will do the remaining 167 hours of your week.

What are you to do – as you are sent into the world?  Realize that you have been given all you need for the journey.  Jesus has breathed on you.  

What are you to do – as you are sent into the world?  Go forth – and do not be afraid.

Amen.

 

Thursday, April 24, 2014

Today's offering is from one of the students involved in LCM who asked that they not be individually identified:
 
 
 
A few months ago while sitting in Sunday school, I thought to myself, our church would never do that.
 
We were discussing  the recent news of a new pastor showing up to his church dress as a homeless person, with rags for cloths, ruffled hair, and the stench that indicated the lack of a shower. We all thought that the congregation’s reactions to the homeless man were utterly and completely wrong. Members of the congregation did not greet him, nor did they offer a seat when the man was in need of a seat. 

And I just kept thinking through the weeks that, “Our church would never do that.”

Well this past Sunday, possibly the biggest day of church turnout where all pews will be completely packed listening to the Good News of Christ’s resurrection; A man walks into the sanctuary looking for a place to sit, it is obvious this man is suffering from some illness as he is finally finds an open seat. 

As I see this happen, I notice the only other guy sitting in the pew is frantically trying to persuade the merely different guy from sitting down. Finally the man with special needs sits down in the pew, in protest the other guy slides to the opposite end of the pew. 

While I thought this was horrible to do, I kept thinking to myself that maybe, just maybe, he was telling him to sit there to reserve the spot. Giving him the benefit of doubt. I am calming down as the rest of the family pours into the church and kicks out the special needs guy, to leave him wandering the church for a place to sit. He soon found another pew that made room for him during the service.

What I realized this Sunday, is that, our church would do that. Which means I could that. It might not be as profound as having a homeless man wander around the church that turns out to be your new pastor, but it does mean all churches are just as imperfect as the members of the congregation. So I challenge you to accept this, and strive to be the person that goes out of their way to talk to the homeless person that walks into church.

Devotion - Thursday, April 24

As you have been reading your textbooks and preparing for exams, I have been reading a book about the status of religious engagement in the university setting.  The Book is titled No Longer Invisible: Religion in University Education.

Near the end, there is a discussion of what it is that actually takes place in the classroom.  The old model would tell us that the professor dispassionately presents information, which the students absorb.  "Information" is the content of the course being taught.  

But try as she might, the professor cannot completely and totally shield her own convictions and preferences.  These seep into the exchanges which occur during those three hours that you and she interact.  By the end of the term, "Formation" has come into to the mix.  The content of the course (we would all hope) has an impact on the student.

We all need to be prepared to reflect upon the formation associated with the information and to realize that the latter can never be delivered without the former coming along for the ride.

You speak with me often about these things.  You reveal a disinterest in "useless bits of information."  But your eyes light up when you discover the classes in which your view of the world is strengthened, or even undermined, or called upon to change, or even complicated in some way.  What you learn is to make a difference in your life.

And it does.  And it will.

When you come to LCM we are real clear about the "difference" we hope to make.  It is a challenge for your professors to be as clear about such matters.  But know that it happens.  AND realize that they are as committed to helping you grow and develop and find your mark in the world.  They just aren't as free to speak of such things.  Your gift to them could be to acknowledge how they have not only shared information but aided your formation.  Think of "How", and tell them.  You could approach them by saying, "I have sat in your class all term, and I am grateful.  Now that that is over, might you be willing to share with me what it is about this subject that makes it so important in your life?"

Something more happens to you during these four years than getting a degree.  You are molded and formed and guided.  Be aware of all the forces doing that and be reflective on the impact each is having.

Good luck with exams.  God will be with you.

Wednesday, April 23, 2014

Devotion - Wednesday, April 23

The Gospels each tell their own account of what happened after Jesus' resurrection.  

As we learned in last night's bible study, in John the disciples return to the upper room.  They lock themselves inside out of fear.  In that closed up space, Jesus comes to them.

This morning I was reading from Matthew.  Here, after hearing the testimony of the two Mary's, the disciples go to the mountain to which Jesus had directed them. There, Jesus meets them.

Differing endings allow us to reflect on the differing responses we have to the events of Easter.  At times we go forth with courage to the places where Jesus has sent us.  At other times we allow our fear to cause us to turn in on ourselves.

Rather than see these as two different stories, it may be helpful to see them as two views of the same story.  Both are responses we have to the Easter events.

Each day - each moment - we can fluctuate between being too overwhelmed to speak and being the beacon of light upon the mountain top.  Each day - each moment - we can live out John's recounting or we can be the disciples Matthew knows us to be.

What kind of day will you live?  Today?

Tuesday, April 22, 2014

Devotion - Tuesday, April 22

Many of the questions asked of me begins with, "Where in the Bible does it say......"

It is tough to remember the chapter and verse for every one of the references repeated in conversations and discussions.  It is also true that many references are not to the Bible, but to conventional wisdom, attempting to boost one's assertion by claiming it is in the Bible.  (Popular in my youth was the reference in a song sung by Willie Nelson to Jesus' turning the stones into loaves.  It worked well for his socially conscience lyrics; but it was a misquote of scripture.)

My devotional guide had me read what are most commonly referred to as the "additional verses of Mark."  Realizing that the oldest versions of Mark's Gospel end at verse 8, verses included in later scrolls are relegated to footnotes in the RSV and NRSV translations.  But they are given full weight and attention in other translations.

It is these verses that it is noted that Jesus' followers are to go into the world and spread the Good News.  NOTHING will be able to stop them or harm them.  It is here that the promise is made "These signs will accompany those who believe: in my name they will cast out demons; they will speak in new tongues; they will pick up serpents...."

This is the place in the Bible where it says this.  It is a collection of verses you are highly unlikely to hear read on a Sunday morning in one of our ELCA congregations.  But when our bothers and sisters of an evangelical ilk speak of such signs as proof of the Spirit's presence they are not misquoting nor are they restating conventional wisdom.  If one claims to believe that which is written 10 verses earlier (the tomb is empty) then why would you not believe what is stated here?