The Jews who were there gathered around him, saying, “How long will you keep us in suspense? If you are the Messiah, tell us plainly.”
Jesus answered, “I did tell you, but you do not believe. The works I do in my Father’s name testify about me, but you do not believe because you are not my sheep.” (John 10:24-26, NIV)
Is this saying that we must first be a follower of Jesus before we begin to properly see his works and hear his voice? Belonging comes before believing?
A reading for the fourth Sunday in Lent: Joshua 5:9-12.
One advantage of coming to faith as an adult is that you don’t spend a lot of time being shocked by Joshua. I did not grow up singing “Jesus Loves the Little Children.” I did not bring a whole lot of expectations to who God was when I started reading the Bible.
After reading Exodus through Deuteronomy where God pretty much tries to wipe out his own chosen people several times, it never really struck me as all that shocking that God would command the destruction of entire cities in Joshua. God is dangerous. Check. I got it. The blood never really stood out for me.
But this passage of Scripture did.
It marks a transition in the story of God’s people. It is the end of manna. It is the beginning of labor. It is the transition from wandering to conquest and settlement. For 40 years in the wilderness, God provided the food. Now the people would have to provide their own.
In the days of the Exodus, God did all the bloody work. Yahweh struck down the enemies of Israel and destroyed the armies of Pharaoh. The blood was on God’s hands. Now, it would be on Israel’s hands. It would still be by God’s strength that the people win victory, but after Jericho, the people would have to fight for what had been promised.
Perhaps it is my Arminianism showing here, but I find the metaphor of Israel having to work to take full possession of the promised land quite apt. If the people are faithful, God will see them through the struggle, but they must exert themselves and they must show their faithfulness. If they do not, forces are in place to enslave and destroy them. They have enemies who will not go without a fight.
Such a reading is much too allegorical for some readers, but it rings true to me.
With little organized thought of my own on the lectionary texts this week, I thought I would share some of John Wesley’s use of them.
He has two sermons touching on the epistle reading:
On Knowing Christ After the Flesh – a sermon that leads me to believe Wesley would condemn much of our praise music
On Sin in Believers – one of Wesley’s most interesting sermons about the nature of sin and grace in the life of a believer
That although we are renewed, cleansed, purified, sanctified, the moment we truly believe in Christ, yet we are not then renewed, cleansed, purified altogether; but the flesh, the evil nature, still remains (though subdued) and wars against the Spirit. So much the more let us use all diligence in “fighting the good fight of faith.” So much the more earnestly let us “watch and pray” against the enemy within. The more carefully let us take to ourselves, and “put on, the whole armor of God;” that, although “we wrestle” both “with flesh, and blood, and with the principalities, and with powers, and wicked spirits in high places,” we may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand.
His Notes on the New Testament include an extended discussion of the significance and meaning of the gospel reading:
This thy brother was dead, and is alive – A thousand of these delicate touches in the inspired writings escape an inattentive reader. In Lu 15:30, the elder son had unkindly and indecently said, This thy son. The father in his reply mildly reproves him, and tenderly says, This thy brother – Amazing intimation, that the best of men ought to account the worst sinners their brethren still; and should especially remember this relation, when they show any inclination to return. Our Lord in this whole parable shows, not only that the Jews had no cause to murmur at the reception of the Gentiles, (a point which did not at that time so directly fall under consideration,) but that if the Pharisees were indeed as good as they fancied themselves to be, still they had no reason to murmur at the kind treatment of any sincere penitent. Thus does he condemn them, even on their own principles, and so leaves them without excuse. We have in this parable a lively emblem of the condition and behaviour of sinners in their natural state. Thus, when enriched by the bounty of the great common Father, do they ungratefully run from him, Lu 15:12. Sensual pleasures are eagerly pursued, till they have squandered away all the grace of God, Lu 15:13. And while these continue, not a serious thought of God can find a place in their minds. And even when afflictions come upon them, Lu 15:14, still they will make hard shifts before they will let the grace of God, concurring with his providence, persuade them to think of a return, Lu 15:15,16. When they see themselves naked, indigent, and undone, then they recover the exercise of their reason, Lu 15:17. Then they remember the blessings they have thrown away, and attend to the misery they have incurred. And hereupon they resolve to return to their father, and put the resolution immediately in practice, Lu 15:18,19. Behold with wonder and pleasure the gracious reception they find from Divine, injured goodness! When such a prodigal comes to his father, he sees him afar off, Lu 15:20. He pities, meets, embraces him, and interrupts his acknowledgments with the tokens of his returning favour, Lu 15:21. He arrays him with the robe of a Redeemer’s righteousness, with inward and outward holiness; adorns him with all his sanctifying graces, and honours him with the tokens of adopting love, Lu 15:22. And all this he does with unutterable delight, in that he who was lost is now found, Lu 15:23,24. Let no elder brother murmur at this indulgence, but rather welcome the prodigal back into the family. And let those who have been thus received, wander no more, but emulate the strictest piety of those who for many years have served their heavenly Father, and not transgressed his commandments.
I have had an odd experience these last couple of weeks of lectionary blogging. It has weakened my sense of nourishment from Scripture. This has never happened with my blogging before, but at this time, right now, I am finding that blogging the lectionary readings has turned my study and reading into a means to an end.
And that has left me with a sense of dryness.
At the same time, thoughts and ideas crowd in about other topics to write about. I have even started writing posts that would violate my Lenten discipline, only to delete them before finishing.
It may be that I am just experiencing the trials and temptations of any fast. It may be something deeper is going on here.
At any rate, this is a report from the midst of Lent. May God sustain you in your observance.
A reading for the third Sunday in Lent: Luke 13:1-9
A sermon draft I posted here in 2010, the last time this text came up in the lectionary, has been getting a few hits this week. My thinking has not changed much since then. But I do notice that I must have been preaching from the NIV that week.
In verse 8, the NIV says “the gardener” will spread fertilizer around the tree. The NRSV gives us what I assume is a more literal translation with “manure.”
So, the question arises: Have you been flinging around manure like Jesus this week?
A reading for the third Sunday in Lent: 1 Corinthians 10:1-13
Wow. I’ve read this before, but today the words leap out at me and into conversations in my life.
I do not want you to be unaware, brothers and sisters, that our ancestors were all under the cloud, and all passed through the sea, and all were baptized into Moses in the cloud and in the sea, and all ate the same spiritual food, and all drank the same spiritual drink. For they drank from the spiritual rock that followed them, and the rock was Christ.
Paul’s concern for unity must lie behind this text. The unity of the people is marked by their experiences with God and dependence on God. I’m not sure what the phrase “baptized into Moses” means exactly, but given many recent conversations about baptismal theology with Metho-friends, I note that all the people were baptized by passing through the sea — not just the adults and people who could choose for themselves to follow Moses, but also the children and the helpless.
Paul also gives us an early warrant for Christian practice of reading the Old Testament as a witness to Christ. This practice is sometimes controversial in the church and seminary these days, but Paul had no problem with making — at least — metaphorical connections between Christ as the source of living water and the rock in the wilderness that Moses struck with his staff.
Nevertheless, God was not pleased with most of them, and they were struck down in the wilderness. Now these things occurred as examples for us, so that we might not desire evil as they did. Do not become idolaters as some of them did; as it is written, “The people sat down to eat and drink, and they rose up to play.” We must not indulge in sexual immorality as some of them did, and twenty-three thousand fell in a single day. We must not put Christ to the test, as some of them did, and were destroyed by serpents. And do not complain as some of them did, and were destroyed by the destroyer.
With my students I call that first word in this section a “turn signal.” Paul’s “nevertheless” is a warning that we are going to change focus, and, boy, do we. Despite the unity of the people, God was not pleased. They were marked by baptism. They ate the bread of life. They drank the cup of salvation together. But God was “not pleased” with their lives. They did evil. They worshiped idols. They were sexually immoral.
And God struck them down by the thousands. (That “not pleased” in Paul sure is an understatement.)
In my reading and seminary, I encounter lots of talk about the names of God. So far, I’ve not heard anyone suggest “the destroyer” as one of the names of God we should use in worship. Wow, what a thought.
These things happened to them to serve as an example, and they were written down to instruct us, on whom the ends of the ages have come. So if you think you are standing, watch out that you do not fall.
Where is once-saved-always-saved? I know we can find other words in Paul to prop up the P in the Calvinist TULIP, but here Paul is writing to well-established Christians telling them they must be careful lest they fall away. Dare we say “backslide”?
No testing has overtaken you that is not common to everyone. God is faithful, and he will not let you be tested beyond your strength, but with the testing he will also provide the way out so that you may be able to endure it.
And we close with a passage that drives crazy some people I know, well, not this passage exactly. The saying they despise is “God never gives you more than you can handle,” which has roots here in Paul. Two objections come up. First, God is not the source of the things that cause us to be overwhelmed. Second, sometimes life does give me more than I can handle.
What a rich vein of conversation this one verse holds out for us. I am not prepared to offer easy answers to these objections or Paul’s words, but I will carry around the implications of his words and their reverberations in the lives of people I know.
A reading for the third Sunday in Lent: Isaiah 55:1-9
My daughter wrote a song called “Come to the Waters” inspired by this verse. I can hear her singing it on her guitar when I read this passage.
It reminds me how reception of Scripture is often so personal and particular. We talk in church about “reading in community” and often try to impose or inculcate collective interpretations on the Bible. I do that quite a bit myself on this blog in my advocacy for Wesleyan readings.
But the Scripture is not so compliant as we would have it be.
I wonder how the opening verses of this reading sound to different ears.
I can imagine those for whom the call to come to the waters and to buy and eat without money brings relief and refreshing and peace. Here is an oasis of grace in the desert of the world.
I can also imagine those for whom the call mocks their hunger and their dryness.
We say these words in church. They will be read in the congregations I serve next Sunday. And yet, our flawed and frail congregations are often not places of such abundance. People come looking for something and find us there flogging our way through another service. The preacher seems to be trying to make a point, but it is not clear what it is. The hymn singing is uneven. The carpet is stained.
Or everything goes perfectly. The production is flawless. The pastor is inspiring. The music lifts us out of our seats. We cry during prayers. And yet, some people leave finding they are still thirsty and the ache in their stomach that brought them to church still gnaws at their belly.
The church speaks these words and often tries to live into them, but I can’t escape the feeling that we often treat the church as if it should live up to its proclamation in a way that asks the church to be something it can never be. I even dare to say we make the church an idol. We think the prophet is sending out an invitation to attend next Sunday’s worship service.
The prophet does not say “Come to our church, and you will find water.” He says, “Listen to Yahweh.” I did not notice that until now, but that word “listen” is a the heart of the first few verses. Listen. Listen. Listen.
And so, I wonder if the church should view itself less as the dispenser of the water of life and more as the people gathered together with open ears trying to listen.
A reading for the second Sunday in Lent: Luke 13:31-35
This is one of those texts that makes following the the Revised Common Lectionary a challenge. Often we people speak of the discipline of the lectionary, they talk about the way it forces you to deal with “hard” texts like divorce and carrying your cross and hating your mother. But it is texts like this one that I find the most challenging.
When I preach, I try to find a way past lecturing about a passage. I don’t want to educate people about the Bible, I want to preach a message that comes out of the Bible but gets as close to the gut and as far from the head as possible.
With texts like this one, I have a hard time doing that. I have a hard time opening up questions that speak to the spiritual state of the congregation. The closest I come feels like missing the heart of the text: Jesus did today’s work today and did not let what was coming down the road intimidate him.
I think of the hymn “Work for the Night is Coming.”
There is a sermon in there somewhere, but this week I think I’ll end up preaching on Philippians.
