The Image of God: Part 4

How can the Church live into being the reflection of the image of God in the world?

Jürgen Moltmann, in his book Theology of Hope, describes three roles the church can assume in society that will dim our ability to reflect God’s image.  

First, the Church can become the place where faith is only personal. Our society often thinks of faith as something we don’t talk about – our churches can become the place where faith is an inner matter. Faith is never explored in the social reality – faith is separated from the world. John Wesley would have something to say about this – for him, faith is a matter of both inward and social holiness. It’s hard to love God with all of our heart if our heart is only focused on ourselves. 

Second, the Church can become only the mediator of fellowship. When I was studying to become a Certified Lay Minister, I was exploring the role of the church, so I asked my Facebook friends to tell me what the church means to them.  Lots of people responded that the church was family – it was where they came to be renewed – it was the place where they belonged. None of that is wrong – that is part of what the church is, but if our community is only us – only the people who gather here in this room, then we are isolated, and we are not anticipating the coming of the Kingdom of God. It’s hard to love our neighbors if we are excluding them.

Third, the church can become faith as an institution – it can become the authority in all questions of meaning. If that happens, then we stop struggling with the questions – we just accept the answers the church provides. It’s hard to love the Lord with all of our mind if we aren’t using it.

Moltmann says we as the Church should instead “be living within the horizon of expectation of the coming of the kingdom of God.”  The church is called to be a revolutionary force in the world. We are called to reflect God’s image so much that we transform the world. (Note: The information about Moltmann is from Feasting on the Word, Year A, Volume 4)

We can get behind that as United Methodists, right? Transforming the world is literally our mission. 

We can’t change the world if we are only focused on ourselves, isolated from society, excluding others, or relegating our responsibilities to an institution.  

In our churches and in our lives, we are called to give to Caesar what belongs to Caesar and to God what belongs to God.  It’s not an either or question, but it is also not an equally balanced answer.  Yes, give to Caesar what belongs to Caesar, but we have a much higher role in the world. We are God’s image in the world, and we can’t let Caesar – or whatever is Caesar in our world today – define what that means. There is one God – and we are God’s people, made in God’s image and inscribed on God’s hands. 

How can you live into being God’s image in the world? How can you love God and our neighbors so much that God is seen in what you do? How can the church become the revolutionary force in the world that transforms the world – that anticipates the coming and the presence of the Kingdom of God. 

Go from this place into the world and live into the image in which you were created. Be God’s image.

The Image of God: Part 3

In 2005, over 20 years ago, I was asked to preach at my church for Laity Sunday. It was really the first time I had ever preached, and I was nervous. I was so nervous that I wouldn’t call it preaching – I said I was “giving a talk.”  The sermon scripture was the same Gospel passage we read today, and the title of my sermon was “God wants you.” In my mind it referred to the posters of Uncle Sam during World War II, where Uncle Sam is pointing out to the people, saying, “I want you…” 

At the time, my church posted sermon titles and preacher names on a sign outside the church for the people driving down Fifth Avenue in Huntington to see, I assume with the idea that sermon titles and/or preacher names would draw people into worship (I doubt that works, but there you go). I was driving down Fifth Avenue one day that week and saw the sermon title: God wants you, Kim Matthews.

Isaiah 49:15-16 says this:

Can a woman forget her nursing child
or show no compassion for the child of her womb?
Even these might forget,
yet I will not forget you.
See, I have inscribed you on the palms of my hands;

We are created in the image of God, and God has inscribed us on the palms of God’s hands.  If I can see the coin in Jesus’s hand marked with the pompous statement that a man is god, then how much more can I imagine the hand of God, marked with love of us.

Jesus is in Jerusalem.  He has said he must suffer at the hands of the elders and chief priests and be killed. Imagine for a moment the crucifixion marks on the palms of his hands, marked by the divine love God has for us.

What belongs to God? We do. What are the things we should give to God?

In this same chapter of Matthew, in the third conflict story, Jesus tells a Pharisee, a lawyer, in answer to the question “What is the greatest commandment.”

“You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ This is the greatest and first commandment. And a second is like it: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ On these two commandments hang all the Law and the Prophets.”

What belongs to God? What should we give to God? All that we are: our heart, our soul, our mind, and loving our neighbors as ourselves.

It’s not a simple answer Jesus gives – it’s a complicated, messy, and difficult answer, but it is one that defines the church.

Very often the truth is that we want to only love the people we want to love and we want to ignore everyone else – to not even think about them. We want to devote ourselves – our soul, so to speak – only to our own interests and priorities. But who is made in the image of God? Who is inscribed on the palms of God? I am. You are. But not only us – everyone is. In another story, a lawyer – what is it with lawyers? – asks Jesus “Who is my neighbor?”

Who is our neighbor? Everyone who is created in the image of God. Everyone who is inscribed on the palms of God. Everyone. 

Even the person we never think about. Even the person we would ignore when we walk down the street. Even the person we are afraid of or who we are angry with.  

Jesus doesn’t provide a simple answer. It’s a complicated, messy, and difficult – for us – answer.

I’ve said twice now that Jesus’s answer is one that defines the church. What does his answer mean for the body of Christ?

The Image of God: Part 2

The passage from Matthew 22 occurs when Jesus has already traveled to Jerusalem.  He has warned his disciples that he must suffer at the hands of the elders and chief priests, be killed, and be raised.  You remember that passage – Peter objects, and Jesus says, “get behind me, Satan.” 

This scripture from Matthew is the first of three conflict stories, all in chapter 22. In these stories, various groups of leaders challenge Jesus.  In our passage today, we find the Herodians and the Pharisees approaching him with a question. Herodians are supporters of the Roman Empire (including Herod Antipas – who had been named King of the Jews by Rome). They supported paying taxes to Rome. The Pharisees, who were committed to Jewish laws, opposed paying taxes to Caesar mainly because of the special coin that had to be used – the coin carried the image of the “divine Caesar” – they saw the use of the coin as a violation of both the first (you shall have no other gods before me) and second (no worship of idols) commandments.  These two groups shared nothing in common except a desire to see Jesus gone. So together, they come up with a plan to trick him.

They ask Jesus, “Is it lawful to pay taxes to Caesar or not?”  I imagine, like me, they are hoping for a simple answer.  The Herodians hope he will oppose paying taxes – imagine the trouble Jesus would be in – he could then be accused of treason or sedition.  The Pharisees hope he will approve paying taxes – Jesus could then be viewed as a Roman sympathizer, who promotes breaking the Jewish law. 

But Jesus doesn’t provide a simple answer. He asks for the coin and says, “Whose head is this and whose title?” 21 They answered, “Caesar’s.” Then he said to them, “Give therefore to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s and to God the things that are God’s.”

If I close my eyes and imagine the scene, I can see Jesus, holding the silver denarius that was used to pay the tax. On one side is the image of the emperor, with an inscription declaring divinity of Tiberius. He’s holding a coin that declared a man to be divine – a coin with the image of a god (with a little g). I’m struck by the arrogant pomposity of the coin – here is Jesus, who is God, holding a coin with words declaring that a mere man is god. I wonder what Jesus thought. 

His response “give to Caeser what belongs to Caeser” accomplishes two things: Jesus recognizes that we have obligations as members of society – sorry, but yes, you should pay taxes. But beyond that, Jesus reduces this coin to something inconsequential when he says, give “to God the things that are God’s.”

If we think about this coin that declared Tiberius was god, we can consider the question – what are the things that are God’s (big G). What has the image of God on it? 

Genesis 1:27 tells us, “So God created humans in his image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them”

You and I are made in the image of God. God’s image is seen on us. What belongs to God? We do.

The Image of God: Part 1

I hate tax season. Don’t get me wrong – I don’t hate paying taxes, although it’s not my favorite thing to do. I think we all need to contribute to society, and sometimes that means sending money – we need to provide the people around us (and ourselves) with educations, health care, food, roads to drive on, security, and clean water coming out of the tap. So, OK, we pay taxes.  

What I hate about tax season is calculating the amount of tax owed. Steve and I complete IRS Form 1040 for five people.  I almost always start with my mother’s taxes – she’s 88, and while she used to do her own tax forms, she now asks me to do it, and she always wants it completed in February. If not earlier. And I tell you, calculating the taxes due on social security payment is mathematical acrobatics (and I like math).  

Usually next is our own taxes. We struggle to find the paperwork we need to enter the numbers into the tax software and then we watch as the amount we owe climbs with each calculation. 

Then we Zoom with our sons, and we do their 1040s. And some years that is done on April 14, even though I tell them their tax deadline is St. Patrick’s Day (doesn’t work). One awful April 15, I was up all night trying to submit our younger son’s form – our tax software submission system was having a glitch.

Anyway, I hate tax season. I wish, in today’s Gospel reading from Matthew, Jesus had told the people gathered around him that Christians shouldn’t pay taxes! But that’s not what he said – the reality is much more complicated than that, and I think it even defines our relationship with God and our neighbors. 

But I jump ahead. 

Let’s start by looking at the scripture itself.

Then the Pharisees went and plotted to entrap him in what he said. So they sent their disciples to him, along with the Herodians, saying, “Teacher, we know that you are sincere, and teach the way of God in accordance with truth, and show deference to no one, for you do not regard people with partiality. Tell us, then, what you think. Is it lawful to pay taxes to Caesar or not?” But Jesus, aware of their malice, said, “Why are you putting me to the test, you hypocrites? Show me the coin used for the tax.” And they brought him a denarius. Then he said to them, “Whose head is this and whose title?” They answered, “Caesar’s.” Then he said to them, “Give therefore to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s and to God the things that are God’s.” When they heard this, they were amazed, and they left him and went away.  Matthew 22:15-22 

Experiencing Forsakeness

I continued reading from the book The Hope of Glory by Jon Meacham. This book is a reflection on the seven last words of Jesus. This post is based on the chapter concerning Matthew 27: 46-47:

And about three o’clock Jesus cried with a loud voice, “Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?” that is, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

Meacham writes: "...Jesus was fully briefed on his earthly mission, then how could his cry be taken literally? Why ask whether God has forsaken him? Why cry in pain when he must have known that resurrection lay ahead?"

I stopped reading the chapter to write this post; to share my thoughts about this rhetorical question.

Despite Jesus's knowledge of what is happening, and what is to come, and why this is part of his mission, he is still suffering a crucifixion. I think these words are an authentic and heart-felt expression of what is happening to him. He is in intense, unimaginable pain. These words tell us he felt forsaken - what a word! More than alone, more than abandoned. Forsaken - left alone.

I pray we all know that there is hope for us, that God is present with us, even this moment, and yet we also can know the pain of suffering. Knowledge of a future of hope does not eliminate the present pain of whatever is happening to us. The experience of pain, or loss, or forsakenness isn't eliminated by hope. I think we can endure because of the hope, but we still experience the "awfulness" of what is happening to us. Seeing that Jesus experienced the same not only tell us about the 100% of Jesus that was human, but reassures us that Jesus knows what our lives are like.

Of course Jesus's experience and words were authentic, even in the midst of hope. That is our experience, too.

Book Review: The Gospel of John

Information about the book

The Gospel of John by Amy-Jill Levine.  Published by Abingdon Press, Nashville, 2024.  (Amazon / Cokesbury).

Summary

From Amazon: John’s Gospel offers readers a new language―of being born anew, of living water, of wind and spirit, of the “I am”―that enhances how we understand the divine, how we experience the world, and how we participate in the mystery of faith.

With her characteristic wit and charm, Amy-Jill Levine introduces readers to the world of the Gospel of John by unpacking the stories in their original context, along with examining how the text is read today. This book considers the Gospel of John in its entirety, moving through the Gospel and exploring the prologue, the wedding at Cana, the Samaritan woman at the well and the woman caught in adultery, the healing of the man at the pool and the man born blind, foot washing, Mary Magdalene and Doubting Thomas, and the Lamb of God.

Components available to use this book in a small group study include a leader guide and video available on DVD.

Impressions

This book takes a journey through the complicated Gospel of John in a way that will feed the open mind and provide new insights. The chapters often look at a pair of stories instead of just one - that pairing provides greater clarity than just one story by itself.

I always grow and enhance my understanding when I read a book by Amy-Jill Levine. This is an excellent look at the Gospel and I highly recommend it.

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Walking outside the boat

 In 2008, I changed careers. I was hired as the Associate Director of The Foundation. My college and graduate training, and my career to that point had all been in the fields of biology and medicine, particularly research. The change to work at a foundation that focuses on legacy giving and stewardship was quite a leap.  At the time, I compared it, in my mind, to Peter, and how he stepped out of the boat to attempt to walk on the water in Matthew 14:22-33.

I don't mean that comparison to sound pretentious or overdrawn, but truly, for me, making this career switch had the feeling of embarking into a new land, a new field, where I knew nothing, other than faith and a sense of the purpose of the church. I truly relied (and continue to rely) on any gifts God had given me, even those that had nothing specific to do with the work I am doing now. I saw (and still see) ways the two fields relate to each other, but it is not direct or obvious.

At the time, I had recently read a book by John Ortberg called If you Want to Walk on Water, You've Got to Get out of the Boat. It inspired the metaphor in my mind - if I wanted to follow, to have faith, to trust in God, then I had to step out of the boat

As I read the Matthew passage today, it reminds me of that time, but what I noticed today is that Peter doesn't show a lot of fear when he steps out of the boat.  It was later, after he had left the boat and was actually walking on the water, that the fear - the realization - set in.

Beginnings do bring fear, and it is fear that we must work through, but we shouldn't think that from that point on, the water will be smooth, and there will not be encounters with that which frightens us. There will be.  It is necessary to keep the faith, to look to Jesus, and to continue to overcome the fear.

Seeing Mary Magdalene with Different Eyes

A couple of months ago I was beginning a browse of the current lectionary readings at Vanderbilt University - where I always go to find the current revised common lectionary passages.  It's a great site - I encourage you to use it if you don't already.

While there, I saw an announcement for a Vanderbilt Divinity Library Exhibit called Seeing Mary Magdalene with Different Eyes.  This is an in-person exhibit but is also well represented through this online version.

The online exhibit includes a video recording of the opening lecture, featuring Beth Maczka's research on the topic.  The lecture is less than 30 minutes long, but is very good.  I'm posting it here to encourage you to go view it.

As you do, think about Mary Magdalene, not a prostitute as she is so often portrayed, but actually the anointer (probably), a witness to the crucifixion, and a proclaimer of the resurrection. 

All the way to suffering...

 In An Unlikely Lent , Rachel Billups writes:

As Jesus hung on the cross, most of his followers had scattered. Gripped by fear they had fled to the shadows, unwilling to risk their lives for the man they once called Lord. But not the women. Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of Jesus, Mary the mother of Joseph and Joses, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Salome, stood at the foot of the cross, refusing to turn away. They had followed Jesus not just when it was easy...these women followed when it cost them everything. Their presence at the cross was an act of defiance against fear, a declaration that their love for Jesus was greater than their need for safety....they risked following him all the way to suffering, to sorrow, to the place where hope seemed lost.

I think about Jesus' male disciples who fled, I think about Peter who betrayed Jesus, I think about all of the times that I and others around me limit how far we will go. What are the limits of your discipleship? What stops you from following Jesus not only near the cross but to the cross? Fear? Selfishness? Desire for control? Laziness? Other commitments? What stops us from truly being the disciples that these women were?

Simon of Cyrene

 

Rachel Billups "An Unlikely Lent," the chapter about Simon of Cyrene serves as the inspiration for this post.

In the Gospel of Luke, chapter 23:26:

As they led him away, they seized a man, Simon of Cyrene, who was coming from the country, and they laid the cross on him and made him carry it behind Jesus.

Imagine the moment for Simon. We don't know a lot about him, but he is from Cyrene. Cyrene was an ancient Greek colony in Libya, near present-day Shahhat.  The straight line distance between the two locations is about 700 miles, if you travel across the Mediterranean.  The costal land route would have been even longer.

Imagine if Simon was a pilgrim, who had traveled that long distance (not in a plane, not in a car) to Jerusalem as a pilgrim for Passover. Or maybe he was just visiting, a part of the crowd. He's "seized" from the crowd and made to carry the cross. It seems to me that he would have been terrified.  Were these Roman soldiers who grabbed him? He was far from his home, if Cyrene is where he lived permanently, and now he is forced into a procession to an execution.

I wonder what Simon did when he reached Golgatha. Was he just glad to be rid of the burden of the cross? Did he exit the scene in relief? Or did he recognize something in Jesus that compelled him to stay and witness the crucifixion?

Palm Sunday Questions

I think there are always (or almost always) gaps in biblical stories. Today I was reading Matthew 21:1-11. This is the entry into Jerusalem. Some questions came to mind:

• Jesus sends two disciples into Jerusalem to find a donkey and a colt. Do the disciples question this? It seems like previously they would question everything. "What do you mean we'll find a donkey and a colt tied to something? Where? Tied to what? Why do you need them? Will we be arrested for stealing them? Did they ask these questions? Or did they just silently go into the city?
• Were they surprised to find the animals? Or did they just think, "That Jesus, he knows what he's talking about!"
• Did anyone question that they were taking them? "Hey stop, those aren't yours!"
• Whose animals were they? And why would the owner be satisfied with "The Lord needs them."? Are we missing an angelic visitation to an animal owner?
• The crowds greet him as a conquering hero. What happened to that attitude during the week? Later they are shouting to "crucify him." Same people? A different crowd?
• Did the people know that the prophet they speak of is more than a prophet - he is the Messiah? Do any of them believe it? 

A Servant Girl's Prayer

On Monday, I posted a reflection about Mark 14:66-72. In this passage, a female servant encounters Peter and asks him, "You were with Jesus, the man from Nazareth."  I started wondering about her. What would she have been thinking after that encounter. Was she a Jew? What would her prayers have been like?

Before you read this, know that I don't pretend to know how a Jewish girl of that time would have prayed, but for this prayer, I try to place myself in her shoes to think about what she would have thought.

Holy God, Today I spoke to a man. I don't know his name, but he was sitting in the courtyard as I was working. Something was going on in the with the high priests - they were trying a man from Nazareth. I know I saw the Courtyard Man with him, so I asked him about it.

Oh, God, he was so afraid. I can understand why. I've heard they want to put the Nazarene to death. Maybe they will want to kill the man I talked to, too.

Forgive me God if my actions exposed him in some way. He seemed so concerned about his friend. My heart broke as he started to cry.

Who am I to question the actions of the high priests and elders? I am only me - they know such much more and ... well... I pray you will guide them, and that they will seek wisdom from you. Does you heart break when you hear people crying like this man? When a rabbi like the one from Nazareth is accused and threatened with death? Do you hurt for them the way I do?

Amen

 

In the Courtyard by the Fire

A few months ago - maybe last year sometime - I took a class from BeADisciple called Reading the New Testament with Fresh Eyes.  One of the Bible study methods we explore was an Ignatian Method.  At the time, I wrote a post about it here.

This morning, I spent some times reading from Rachel Billups' book, An Unlikely Lent. I'm on the second chapter; it focuses on the servant girl who accuses Peter of following Jesus. As I read that chapter, the Ignatian Method came to mind. There are a few questions in that method that I think can "take us into" the scripture. 

For this exploration, I'm reading Mark 14:66-72

Picture the scene....What is the setting? Who are the people in the scene? What can be seen, heard, or smelled in the scene?  It's helpful to read Mark 14's previous verses. Peter has followed Jesus to the courtyard of the high priest. While Jesus is on trial in front of the chief priests, elders, and scribes, Peter is in the courtyard, sitting near the fire with the guards. I imagine it is the time of day that is still night but poised on the edge of sunrise. The light would have been inadequate to make out details, but just beginning to hint at the day to come. The fire would have cast shadows around the courtyard.

Peter would be able to hear the guards talking and the conversations of anyone else who enters into the courtyard. Were they talking about what was going on? Was Jesus well known enough for their to be speculation among those gathered regarding what was happening? Could they hear the questioning? Jesus' answer of "I am"? Could they hear blows striking as they beat Jesus? What about when they condemned him to death?

The courtyard would have been full of the scent of the burning fire and of the men around it. I imagine they could have smelled the fear as Peter sat with them, sweating and afraid.  This man of action probably couldn't have set very still - his feet would have been shuffling and his hands would have been moving around each other and across his beard, clothes, and hair.

And when the servant approached him, and asked him if he were a follower of Jesus, would he have sprung guiltily to his feet? Or tried to maintain calmness by staying in his place by the fire? All those around him would have heard the question and his answer. Unless he had a "poker face" I think he would have looked startled and afraid.

As I write this, I am sitting in my living room, and I can hear a rooster outside. (The neighborhood rooster crows all the time - just annoying). They are not quiet birds, so that crow would have been loud and unmistakable. Peter would have remembered what Jesus told him about his betrayal. His fear would have been compounded now by the guilt that was just under the surface as he started to cry - maybe now leaving the fire to hide.

Judgment and Grace

This was published as a Lenten Devotional from the West Virginia Annual Conference (written by me).

Do not judge by appearances, but judge with right judgment. (John 7:24)

 

Don’t read the comments.  I give myself this advice all the time. Don’t read the comments on Facebook posts, on online newspaper articles, anywhere – just don’t read the comments. The comments are littered with people making judgements and assumptions. The comments can be mean; they are filled with anger and hatred. Don’t read the comments.

 

A friend of mine was in the middle of a horrible experience. Her elderly mother had been driving and had made a wrong turn. She ended up three states away, lost. While they were looking for her, an article was published in the local newspaper. I made the mistake of reading the comments. People were judging the situation with such cruelty.  It was a situation about which they knew nothing, and yet they felt they were the experts in this story. And that is only one illustration I could have shared with you – one of many.

 

John 7:14-31 tells the story of Jesus preaching in the temple. There are those who are seeking to kill him, motivated by his healing of a man on the Sabbath (among other things). Jesus says, “Do not judge by appearances, but judge with right judgment.”

 

What is “right judgment?” Do you remember the song “Father’s Eyes”?  It was written by Gary Chapman and released in 1979 by Amy Grant.  Maybe I’m the only one old enough to remember it!  According to the song, God’s eyes find the good in things, find the source of help, are full of compassion, and can discover what challenges people. I think that defines “right judgment” – judging not with our own understanding, but with God’s.  We sometimes call that grace.

 

We would do well to let grace lead.  In all the situations we encounter in life – on the internet, in what we read, in our day-to-day conversations – we should let grace lead. We are not equipped by God to judge; instead, we are called to love. We are to live a life full of light and grace, so that the world will be changed. 

 

Share love, not judgment. Don’t read the comments, but more importantly, don’t write the comments. Work to see (and respond) to those around you through the grace-filled view of God’s eyes.

 

Prayer: Loving God, help me to be an instrument of your grace. Amen

 

On the Mountain. In the Valley.

View from Droop Mountain Battlefield State Park

A couple of Sunday's ago, our worship scripture was the transfiguration. Remember that one? Jesus Peter, James, and John go up on a high mountain. Jesus is transfigured - his face "shone like the sun and his clothes became bright as light." He was joined by Moses and Elijah. Peter asks Jesus if he should set up three tents on the mountain, but Jesus leads them back down the mountain to the valley below.

Mountaintop experiences are uplifting, aren't they? They booster our faith and provide us with strength to continue the work. I imagine Peter's faith was changed forever when he heard a voice from a cloud speaking.

That said, remember that Jesus came with them off the mountain. In times when we are in the valley, Jesus isn't on the mountaintop - he's in the valley with us. Can you think of a time when your faith was strengthened in the valley?

I've been thinking about this. Is it easier to see (and experience) God on the mountain, or in the valley? Do we come close to God in darkness, in the valley, because our need of God is so great?

Thank God that God is on the mountains and in the valley with us.

 

Seeing Jesus

I've written several posts over the past few weeks, where I share thoughts about how amazing I find some of the nativity and epiphany stories. I'm amazed that Joseph followed the guidance of God through dreams, that the Magi undertook the journey they did, that they recognized a king in a baby, that they were led by their dreams to disobey Herod.  They are all actions of faith, I think.

Now I'm reading Luke 2:22-40. This passage of the gospels features Mary and Joseph bringing their new child to present him at the Temple. There, they encounter Simeon and Anna. Both of these faithful people recognize Jesus as the Messiah. Immediately. With seemingly no questions. 

• Simeon took him in his arms and praised God, saying, "Master now you are dismissing your servant in peace, according to your word." The Holy Spirit had revealed to Simeon that he would live until he saw the Messiah.  He looks at this child, and he is convinced.
• Anna, who lived at the Temple, saw Jesus. Verse 38 says, "At that moment she came and began to praise God and to speak about the child to all who were looking for the redemption of Jerusalem."

I sometimes hear people wonder why the disciples heard, received, and responded to Jesus' call so easily and quickly. It seems to me that they are demonstrating the same faith that Simeon and Anna did. The same response that the Magi had. They saw Jesus, and knew what to do.

Amazing, to me

A very long time ago - over two thousand years ago - magi traveled from the East, maybe Persia, to Judea, to find a king. They traveled a long distance, following a star. A star, of all things - but they were probably people who studied stars, and they were convinced they should follow this one, and that it would lead them to a star.

Amazing, to me, that they did this.

They arrived in Judea, and traveled to Jerusalem, to the King's house. That's sensible enough - where else would you look for a king? The were able to speak to King Herod. This king was afraid - so afraid that he had murdered his beloved wife, Mariamne, her two sons, her brother, her grandmother, and her mother.  He also killed his first born, Antipater.  The man was not mentally stable, and he had a dark, violent streak.  He (maybe slyly) asked the magi to continue their quest, and to report back to him on what they found.

The Magi continued on their journey, following the star, until they arrived in Bethlehem. They found what they did not expect, I imagine, when they started this journey. They found a baby with his mother, not in a palace, but in a humble house. This? This is the king we are searching for? I don't know if they said that, but I would have.

Amazing, to me, that they were convinced that this was the king they were seeking.

They demonstrated great faith and presented gifts to this Infant King - gifts fit for a king. And they knelt and honored him. They were then warned in a dream to ignore what King Herod had told them, so they returned home a different way. They did not tell Herod where the newly born king could be found.

Amazing, to me, that they believed the dream, disobeyed the orders of the king, and headed home a different way.

What would you have done?

 

Real

I'm (slowly) reading the book of a sermons called Between a Rock and Holy Place by Rev. Tom Nolan. I'm reading it slowly because it is a book of seasons through the season (Advent, Christmas ... all he way through Ordinary time).

I'm a little behind and catching up. In what I read today, Tom tells the story of a Christmas pageant in Kentucky. The characters - Mary, Joseph, angels, and others - were played by preschoolers.  Jesus was someone's baby brother.

As the angels left the stage, one of them stopped and stared in amazement at the baby in the manger.  "Look! It's a real baby."

In the Gospel, Jesus tells his disciples that they need to have a child-like faith.  In Matthew 18:3, Jesus says, “Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven."

As I read about the angel who was amazed that the baby was real, I am reminded that we can have that kind of faith, too. We can believe that Jesus, the child, the man, the son of God, is real.

What difference will it make in our lives and in the world if we have that kind of faith?

 

The Magi's Decision

Portsmouth Harbor Lighthouse (New Hampshire)

I'm still thinking about Matthew 2. In it, the Magi come to Herod (on the way to Bethlehem) and tell him about the Messiah. Herod is jealous, anxious, and threatened. He tells them, "Go and search diligently for the child, and when you have found him, bring me word so that I may also go and pay him homage.” (Matthew 2:8b)

They leave, and they find Jesus. They present him with gifts and homage, and when it was time, there was a dream, warning them to not return to Herod.  They go home another way.

As I was thinking about that passage, two thoughts occurred to me:

• It takes courage to "go home another way" when the king has ordered you to return.  When are the times in our lives when we need to stand up for what we believe?
• Did the Magi understand what would be the consequences of not returning to Herod?  I'm sure they didn't. "When Herod saw that he had been tricked by the magi, he was infuriated, and he sent and killed all the children in and around Bethlehem who were two years old or under, according to the time that he had learned from the magi." (Matthew 2:16). The death of the infants can be directly linked to the exit of the Magi. Understand that I am not at all saying that the Magi were to blame, but there are often unintended and unseen consequences to what we do.

Dreams

John Brown's Fort in Harper's Ferry, WV

At the end of last month, in worship, we read Matthew 2. In this chapter, Magi come from the east to see the new Messiah. They stop and have a conversation with Herod who directs them to come back to see him after they find the baby. The Magi follow the star to Bethlehem and find Jesus.  After that, Joseph takes Mary and Jesus to Egypt to escape the slaughter that Herod is about to command.  All of the children two years old or younger in or around Bethlehem are killed.  Later, after Herod dies, Joseph has another dream; it is OK for them to return home. There is one more dream - don't go to Judea, go to Nazareth.

Think about all the dreaming that is in this passage:

• The Magi are warned in a dream to not return to Herod.
• Joseph had a dream, warning him to go to Egypt to avoid the slaughter.
• Later, Joseph has a dream that they can return home.
• Once they are in Israel, he has another dream: don't go to Judea.

I was impressed by all of the dreams, and by all of the following of dreams.  I have many dreams - a few weeks ago, I dreamed Tr@mp was living in a box in my mother's garage. It was a dream that felt very evil. Anyway....  I have many dreams, but I don't see them as messages from God. I can't imagine allowing a dream to direct my actions.

But the Magi and Joseph believe the dreams to be messages from God, and they followed them. And they weren't wrong. How did they know? What in their faith allowed them to believe? I'm not asking the questions because I think God is going to send me messages in my dreams, but for a broader reason. How do we know when God is calling us to action?

I think part of it is that we believe God WILL call us to action. Is that a product of grace? Is that a grace-motivated faith? I think it probably is.