The following is the opening portion of a Christmas letter I wrote at the end of 2024. I’ve been meaning to post it, but haven’t gotten around to it…until now. So, here are some random musings from yours truly. If they hit and serve you; I’m glad. If not, leave them behind; I would never want you to be burdened by my own “stuff”.
Christmas 2024
“Therefore, Pilate said to him, ‘So then, you are a king?’ Jesus answered, ‘You, you say that I am a king. For this I, I have been born and for this I have come into the cosmos, so that I may witness to the truth; everyone who is of the truth hears my voice.’ Pilot said to him, ‘What is truth?’” (Jn. 18:37-38)
Truth seems a tricky beast to get a hold of, like grasping at oil or sand. There’s a brief moment when I feel like I’ve got it in hand and then…what I thought was mine is now no longer mine as it spills out from a fist clenched with desperation. I’ve always considered our human travels through time on this rock as the way we accumulate more truth (like coins in a jar). But, looking around here at the end of 2024, I’m not so sure that’s the case. I feel no closer to the truth today than I did in January. Sadly, I feel further from it this year than years before. It seems our information landscape is a veritable wasteland of dis- and misinformation; a minefield to navigate with alertness and wakefulness that only ends up producing existential fatigue. I have no choice but to echo Pilate with weak lips, What is truth?
I have a hard time asking this question aloud because it’s often met with scientific, intellectual, philosophical, theological, and party-political pat responses. But truth isn’t fact strictly, and it certainly isn’t dogma or human-made ideology. These are all things drawn from the truth because human beings are eager to make sense of their environments and place in history. Facts and ideologies are material manifestations of the truth that (eventually) become captive to space, decay with time, and will (if we allow them to) die. But truth can’t be confused for these things no matter how comforting that may be; truth refuses capture and denies us the ability to mount it on our wall like a trophy.
If I’ve learned anything this year, it’s that truth isn’t a thing; it’s a summons, a disruption, it’s what liberates us from the captivity of what was. It’s the thing that gets us to turn our heads towards the future while standing in the present and remembering what was rather than clinging to it; truth beckons us to let go of what we have known and receive something new. So, this is why I dragged Easter into Christmas. Advent is our time of waiting for the arrival of God in our moment; our eager expectation to be flat-out and totally ruptured from what was and is (the status quo). God promises to show up and bring God’s reign; in the nativity of Jesus Christ God does show up. The birth of Christ is a great and heavenly fracture of geological time and space. But it’s the beginning; the story doesn’t stop there. Behind the manger looms the cross, and it’s in the cross and resurrection event (whether you believe them to be fact and real or not) where the world will never truly be able to go about its business as if something didn’t just happen, as if the earth didn’t just shake, as if the illuminating light of God didn’t stream forth and expose all those who witness it (literally or spiritually, historically and currently).
The birth of Christ is not a light that only shines backward illuminating the past (woe to me a sinner); rather, it’s a beacon that shines forward, illuminating our path forward (surely this man is God). Herein lies truth. Jesus says that he came into the world to witness to the truth of God; this means nothing less than to witness to God’s reign and mission of love, life, and liberation in the world. Wherever there is indifference, the truth will beckon us to bring God’s love; wherever there is death, the truth will beckon us to bring God’s life; wherever there is captivity, the truth will call us to fight for divine liberation of God’s beloved. According to Jesus at the penultimate Good Friday moment, truth is a voice calling out, summoning me to drop my nets and follow God not backward toward what is familiar and known, but to be ruptured from what was, to go forward, follow Christ and step into the unknown. Dorothee Sölle (German Lutheran Liberation Theologian)writes,
“Christ’s truth is concrete.…By concrete we mean changeable according to the situation and according to human needs; able itself to change a situation and liberate from oppression. This kind of truth must be realized and so it can be experienced but it cannot be known in advance. It can be made but not determined.”[1]
The divine summons of Advent is into this truth of the reign of God defined by love, life, and liberation.
Psalm 99:4-5 “O mighty God, lover of justice, you have established equity; you have executed justice and righteousness in Jacob.” Proclaim the greatness of our God … Abba God is the Holy One.
Introduction
We lose our way. Sometimes we roam from one room of the house to another forgetting why we entered the room we just entered, wondering where our phone is while using its flashlight to look for it, unable to find the glasses that are on our face. To lose our way is human; our memories (even at their best) aren’t that good. Have you ever had that experience where you are certain you remember exactly how a story goes or what a person looks like, only to find out that you don’t remember that story/that person as well as you thought?
Sometimes we lose our focus thus our way concerning what’s important in the world. We become caught in and trapped by (enslaved to?) our ideologies, worshipping them while forsaking God and other human beings. We get lost in trying to carve out our space in the kingdom of humanity, adhering to the lies of “The life-hack life,” “the grind-mindset life,” “the girl-boss life,” “the dog-eat-dog life,” “the last-one-standing-gets-everything” life, the “austerity” life….all of these not only take from us—slowly diminishing the allure of our God-given human glory and dignity—but lead us down paths and to locations that are down-right opposed toward keeping human life human.[1]
We lose our ways even spiritually. We can deconstruct and demythologize ourselves and the world to the point where there’s nothing of substance under our feet, just a voracious and insatiable void sucking everything—and everyone—into it offering no solutions or answers just more and more questions. We lose our ways, wandering from creativity and dreams of “better than this” and “possibly”. We become trapped in the material reality of the world, forgetting the spiritual still exists whether you believe it or not. We wander from God, lured by our hubris, cash, diplomas, and power convinced we are the masters of our own destinies.
Sometimes we lose our way because the way, our way, the path we were on is taken from us, stripped out from under our feet; what was known and steady is now unfamiliar and irregular. Everything feels confusing, comfort is lost, trust and safety are challenged, vulnerability skyrockets and defenses go up. This was a violent disruption, a chaos eruption. What’s to come? *shrug*
So, humans lose their ways—in one form or another, from one degree to another. And sometimes we need to be lovingly interrupted and become reoriented to the present, to feel the coolness and comfort of the cloud descending upon us, and become still long enough to hear the divine voice call to us to listen, to look, and to touch the one who is with us even in the midst of this…
Luke 9:28-36
But while [Peter] was saying these things a cloud occurred and was enveloping them. And they were afraid while they entered into the cloud. And a voice sounded from the cloud saying, “This one is my son, the one who has been picked out [for/by me]; listen to him.” (Luke 9:34-35)[2]
In our gospel passage we come face to face with a story telling us who Jesus is (again). This story exists outside of our intellectual and rational grasp; we may feel the trap of trying to trivialize the story, to make it about us, drawing too tight of a correlation between Peter’s (appropriate) verbal bumbling and our understanding of good discipleship (i.e. disciples can’t stay on the mountain top, they must come back down the mountain and travel along the valleys). We should resist this temptation. [3] It may seem counterintuitive to resist this temptation, for what negative could come from seeing ourselves in this story and subsequently applying it to our lives? Well, while I love you tons and God loves all of us even more, not every story is about us. In other words, if we make it about us and our discipleship, we will miss what God is telling us through Luke about Jesus.
According to the details of this story and who shows up to stand with and speaks about Jesus, Luke really wants his reader to think about the great event of the Exodus (back in the book of Exodus with Moses, Israel, Pharoah, and an Angel of Death) and keep in mind the very recent event of Jesus’s baptism back in chapter 3 (where the divine voice declared Jesus to be God’s son and, also, exhorted the audience to listen to him).[4] So, for Luke, Jesus is beginning another journey; whereas Jesus’s baptism signified the beginning of his public ministry, this event signifies the beginning of the work to be done in and thru Jerusalem to his death[5] on the cross.[6]
Now, I know I said that this isn’t really about us, but we are impacted by this knowledge. Luke’s point to his audience (thus to us) is that the one walking with them—through all that lies ahead—is none other than the one who is equivalent to Moses and Elijah, [7],[8] the one who is the son of the God of liberation, of love, or life, the son of God who defends the oppressed. [9] By focusing on Jesus, Luke turns the head of his audience to look [10] and see[11], to remember that no matter what is coming, Jesus, the son of God, the incarnate Word of God, goes with them no matter if it’s into the darkness of the tomb and death of Good Friday or into the unfamiliar and irregular of the new creation of Easter’s Resurrected life.[12]
But it’s not only important for Luke that his audience see who Christ is, but that they hear, too, who this Jesus is they’ve been following thus far.[13] This isn’t an event being orchestrated by human ingenuity or reason, it’s a divine event and God, Abba God, is the one whose loving, life-giving, liberative hand is behind it. Thus, Jesus is not just any person or some good teacher and sage; Jesus is this God’s son,[14] Jesus of Nazareth is the son of their God, the one who liberated their fore parents from Egypt, the one who sides with the oppressed. So, for Luke, this Jesus is to be listened to because he is reliable[15] and because an exodus is coming again.[16] Jesus, like Moses and God through Moses before him, will be liberating the captives from all forms of captivity; [17] yet this time the scale of liberation is bigger and includes liberation from death.[18] Luke provides for his audience a crystal clear picture in the midst of the cloud on the mountain top: what’s to come is going to feel more like losing one’s way than knowing where one is going, but don’t lose heart, the one who goes ahead and among you is God of very God. They will need this picture, experience, seeing and hearing so that they can walk through the chaos, tumult, and darkness to come.
Conclusion
I’ll take back what I said at the beginning about this story not being about us. It is. We should identify—very much—with the disciples, with Luke’s audience. We should see ourselves being addressed by the divine voice speaking from the cloud, addressed by the showing up of Moses and Elijah, and addressed by who Jesus is. We are to look and see, to listen and hear who this one is. We should feel the cool mist as we are enveloped in the cloud that is descending upon the mountain, taking into it all who stand there: Jesus, Moses and Elijah (even as they are leaving), the disciples, and us, Luke’s very distant audience. Why should we see ourselves incorporated in and addressed here in an ancient text and far-out story?
Because we lose our ways. Either because we’ve lost focus or because our way has been yanked out from under us and everything is now very upside down, we need to see and hear again who this Jesus is we claim to follow, the one who is the fullness of our justification and righteousness by faith alone, the one who is the physical manifestation of God who is, according to the bible, the God of liberation and freedom, the God of the divine revolution of love and life.[19] And in accepting that we are being addressed we begin to find our way again, we can begin to focus again, we can be reoriented toward God because of our orientation toward Christ and by the power of the Holy Spirit and, thusly, toward each other in love.[20]
[3] Justo L. Gonzalez, Luke, Belief: A Theological Commentary on the Bible, eds. Amy Plantinga Pauw and William C. Placher (Louisville: WJK, 2010), 126. BAD POINT “…the point being that just as peter was inclined to build booths and to remain on the mountaintop but had to return to the valley, true disciples have to be willing to descend from the mountaintop to the valley, there to communicate their mountaintop experience to others.” Trivialization of an awesome gospel event and pedestrianizes it into an “example” and ignores that Luke says the disciples didn’t say anything.
[4] Gonzalez, Luke, 126. “There is little doubt that in the Gospel write’s mind this story is closely connected with Exodus 24:12-18 (Moses on Mount Sinai) and Luke 3:21-22 (the baptism of Jesus).”
[5] Gonzalez, Luke, 127. “In the transfiguration, while the emphasis lies on the power and glory of Jesus, there is also a reminder of his death, as we are told that Moses and Elijah were discussing his ‘departure’ (again, his ‘exodus’). Coming immediately after Jesus’s announcement of his sufferings and death, the transfiguration is thus a reminder that in spite of all outward signs of defeat and powerlessness, Jesus is ultimately more powerful than death and than the political and religious authorities in Jerusalem.”
[6] Gonzalez, Luke, 126. “On the latter, just as the baptism of Jesus marks the beginning of his public ministry, now the transfiguration marks the beginning of the journey to Jerusalem. In both cases, a voice from heaven (or from a cloud) affirms the unique relationship of Jesus with God, and thus endorses his ministry, actions, and teachings.”
[7] Gonzalez, Luke, 126-127. “On the former, there is a clear attempt in the choice of words of the passage to show that at Jesus is no less a figure than Moses (and Elijah), and that his experience at the mountaintop is parallel to Moses’ experience on Mount Sinai.”
[8] Gonzalez, Luke, 127. “The two figures of Moses and Elijah clearly represent the Law and the Prophets, a common way of referring to the totality of Scripture….Thus the text shows Jesus to be at least the equal of Moses and Elijah, and certainly invested with the authority of God so that his teachings are inspired: ‘This is my Son, my Chosen’ listen to him.’”
[9]Ernesto Cardenal, The Gospel in Solentiname, translated by Donald D. Walsh (Eugene: Wipf & Stock, 2010), 282-283. “they asked me why Moses and Elijah appeared, and I said that Moses was a the great liberator of the people, that he brought them out of Egyptian slavery, and Elijah was a great prophet, a defender of the poor and the oppressed, when Israel again fell into slavery, with social classes. Both of them were closely identified with the Messiah, for it had been said that the Messiah would be a second Moses and that Elijah would come back to earth to denounce injustices as a precursor of the Messiah…”
[10] Joel B. Green The Gospel of Luke The New International Commentary on the New Testament (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1997), 377. “Luke’s transfiguration scene places a premium on the motif of sight.”
[11] Green, Luke, 381. “This emphasis on seeing illuminates the transfiguration scene from the vantage point of the apostles, with Luke’s focus set on the significance of this event for them. At the same time, Luke invites his audience to share their viewpoint through the use of ‘Look!’”
[12] Gonzalez, Luke, 128. “The roller-coaster experience of the disciples is also ours. Are we the Easter people, or are we the people of the cross? Both! And neither is of any significance without the other. At the same time that we celebrate the victory of Jesus—and our own—we must never forget his cross—nor eschew our own. There are ‘transfiguration moments’ in Christian experience and in the life of the church; but they neither abolish nor diminish the need for the cross.”
[13] Green, Luke, 377. “From ‘seeing,’ then, the narrative turns to ‘hearing’ (vv 35-36a), after which, we are informed, the apostles told no one what they had ‘seen.’ Luke thus works in this scene with an understanding that is common in biblical narration—namely, ‘unaided human intellect cannot grasp history’s significance. One who reckons to understand the past implies a claim to God-given insight into the matter.’ The divine word illuminates; hence we may follow the narrative from the ‘seeing but not perceiving’ of vv. 28-34 to the ‘seeing and (beginning the process of) perceiving’ in v. 36. The whole scene is thus cast as a moment of revelation.”
[14] Green, Luke, 382. “…the encasement of Jesus’ mission in the language of exodus reminds us that, whatever shape it takes, that mission is grounded in the purpose of God to bring liberation from bondage. Through the journey Jesus is undertaking, release from the constraints of demonization, from the darkness of satanic intent, and from the diverse expressions of diabolic power, whether in disease or in social marginalization or in the patronal ethics of the Roman world, will be effected.”
[15] Green, Luke, 384. “…god speaks not to Jesus but to these representative followers, underscoring for them Jesus’ status. Form an unimpeachable source, Jesus has been identified for them; as a consequence of this divine confirmation, they should regard his words, including his teaching on his destiny and the concomitant nature of discipleship…as reliable.”
[16] Green, Luke, 378. “For Luke, if not for historiographers in general, this was due to his notion that historical events are divinely guided. This means that the Evangelist will have seen in the mission of Jesus a virtual, divinely oradin3d, reenactment of the exodus from bondage.”
[17] Green, Luke, 379. “…the transfiguration scene calls upon this choir of voices especially to stress the image of Jesus as liberator from bondage, his ministry as one of release from captivity in all its guises.”
[18] Green, Luke, 379. “These internal reverberations are important for what they emphasize about this scene—namely, the way it (a) summarizes critical issues related to Jesus’ status in relation of to God, (b) proleptically alerts representative apostles to the full significance of his heavenly status, and (c) supplies the apostles (and Luke’s audience) with an interpretive framework for making sense of the ensuing narrative, including the fulfillment of Jesus’ predicted suffering and death.”
[19] Cardenal, Solentiname, 284. “I: ‘In the Bible, God appears fundamentally like the God of Exodus, which is like saying the God of freedom. The prophet Amos says that the Exodus of Israel was not the only one and that Yahweh had brought other peoples out of other slaveries. Which is like saying that Yahweh is the God of every revolution.”
[20] Cardenal, Solentiname, 285. “I: ‘Christ is the Word of God made flesh on earth, the message of God that we should love one another. That’s the word that the cloud says we must hear.’”
Psalm 138: 7, 8a, 9b-c: Though God be high, God cares for the lowly; God perceives the haughty from afar. Though we walk in the midst of trouble, you, Abba God, keep us safe; Abba God, your love endures for ever; do not abandon the works of your hands.
Introduction
Last week I referred to the reality that we have been exposed for having lost our voice in the world thus our place and relevance in the world because we’ve forsaken the message of Christ in word and deed and have traded our spiritual authority of the reign of God for the acceptance and amicability of the kingdom of humanity. In our pursuits for intellectual validity in an age ruled by the rational and reasonable, we’ve whittled down the gospel into something easily digestible as post-enlightenment, (now) post-modern, scientific, fact and data driven, educated people. Few people (if any) are currently running to the church for help or find themselves desperate to hear what the church will do or say. The church may be stepping in to help here and there, but being a “force to be reckoned with” in the temporal realm? Nah. The mainline non-denominational, big-box churches are already in the pocket of the rulers and authorities of the kingdom of humanity eager to uphold the status-quo and gain their bit of power and prestige. And the mainline denominational churches desperate to make traditional spirituality great again were seduced into the siren song of ambiguous statements of love to make sure they kept the few they had in the pews. And let us not forget the overwhelming amount of toxicity and violence that has come from the hand of those charged to do right and keep safe the beloved of God. So, fam, we’ve achieved exactly what we were desperate to avoid: we’ve lost relevance.
To find that relevance once again, we must return to the age-old yet intellectually awkward proclamation of Jesus Christ—the one who was crucified and raised by God, the one who sets the captives free by word and in deed, flips tables, yells at winds and waves, exposes people, calls the least of these his friends and family, and has absolutely no problem confronting rulers and spiritual leaders of all stripes and types in the kingdom of Humanity. And by getting in touch with this weird, pre-modern, mythologically laden message, find ourselves (re)oriented to God, faces brazen with God’s glory and presence. In returning to the proclamation we’ve been given, we will also step in under the gracious, merciful, beautiful, light yoke of God’s expectations for us as the church—love mercy, do justice, and walk humbly.
In other words, the foundation of the church is completely and totally dependent on the whacky and far-out stories of Jesus of Nazareth whom faith declares is the long-awaited Messiah of God and who is God—God of very God. It is precisely in and on these stories, these myths, where the church finds its unique identity to live and its concrete truth to speak into the world.
1 Corinthians 15:1-11
For I make known again to you, siblings, the good news which I preached to you, and which you received, and in which you have stood, through which you are being saved by what words I preached to you if you holdfast, except if you believed at random. (1 Cor. 15: 1-2)
Paul gives us a clear and crisp definition of the “good news” on which, through which and by which the Church stands or falls and finds its unique identity and its concrete truth.[1] This is not some story that Paul came up with, but the very story that started the tradition of the church and will keep the church embedded as a force in the world for good and God’s glory and the wellbeing of the neighbor. Paul says clearly to the Corinthians, I am telling you all again, my siblings, the good news I (have already) announced to you (v. 1a-b). In other words, Paul is reminding the Corinthians of the word of God that is the good news that God has proclaimed and promised from the beginning of the cosmos. He’s keeping this story very straight and clear and expects the Corinthians not to veer—in any way—from this tradition they’ve received from him. Thus, why Paul then says, and which you received (in turn[2]) and in which you have stood, and through which you are being (and will be) saved by what words I preached to you (vv. 1c-2b). They must remain on course because it is the ground under their feet. According to Paul, it is important for the Corinthians to hold fast to this particular message and not one of their own or a hodge-podge from what he said. Otherwise in straying and believ[ing] incoherently[3](v. 2c), the Corinthians are not on solid ground and are not being saved.
For I handed over to you first and foremost what I also received… (v. 3a-b). What is the message that Paul preached and handed over and received and the Corinthians are being exhorted to hold fast to and not stray from? Each part of the crazy and whack story about Jesus of Nazareth, the Christ. That Christ died on behalf of our sins according to the scriptures, and that he was buried, and that he was raised on the third day according to the scriptures, and that he was seen by Cephas and then by the twelve[4] (vv. 3c-5). This is the good news, τὸ εὐαγγέλιον (the gospel) Paul referenced back in v. 1, this is what he received and handed over[5] and through which the Corinthians are being saved;[6]this message, not part of it, not the comfortable bits, not another rendition. And it’s this message and its coherent grasp that is the foundation and the means by which the Corinthians are coming into an encounter with God by faith through Christ and by the power of the Holy Spirit. It is by this message and this alone that Christian faith and identity have its foundation, substance, and truth.[7] For Paul, the way this all works out is more than dogmatic (forced) confession and adherence, but the truth and actuality of a personal confession that is born of experiencing the summoning to life out of death of this good news.[8]
Paul then tells the Corinthians that Jesus in his resurrected state was seen by more than 500 siblings once for all, many of whom many remain until now, though some fell asleep. Afterward, he was seen by James [Jesus’s brother[9]], then by the all the apostles (vv. 6-7). Affirming the actuality of Jesus’s resurrection, Paul then presses in on the reality of the theme of Corinthians 15: God is God[10] and it’s this God who is God who is the one who brings the dead to life by grace and promise.[11] Paul writes, Then lastly as if one miscarried he was seen by also me, for I, I am the least of the apostles, of whom I am not fit to be called an apostle because I persecuted the church of God; but by the grace of God I am who I am, and the grace of God toward me has not become fruitless, but to a greater degree I worked harder of them all, but not I but the grace of God in me. Through Paul’s confession and witness, those who are stuck are liberated, those who are afflicted are comforted, those who are untimely born are reborn in time, and those who are dead are made alive. According to Paul (by confession and experience), it’s the unmerited grace of God that is the breath of new life.[12] Thus, if for Paul than for the Corinthians[13]—individually and as the community.[14] It’s the promise of God fulfilled in and through the birth, life, death, resurrection, and ascension of Jesus Christ that is the word of God that brings the dead to life,[15] gives authentic identity in the place of a sham identity, and replaces falsehood with truth.[16] It’s the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ that is, according to Paul, the firm foundation of the church; [17] apart from this there’s nothing to stand on, nothing to substantiate, nothing of relevance for the Christian community, the Church. Every part of Corinth’s existence is by God or not at all.
Conclusion
When the church fails to adhere to this message, when it decides what parts are worthy, reasonable, and rational at the expense of the other parts it will lose itself. In that moment, as it steps out from under and out of God’s grace and God’s word, the very thing it fears will happen: the church will cease to be relevant. But, according to Paul, the Church, sits precariously balanced on the solid word of God found in Christ by the power of the Holy Spirit; when the church stands on this word, proclaims this word, believes this word—as scary as that can be at times—the church finds itself square in the grace of God and supplied with God’s grace to carry on.[18] It is in adhering to this ancient claim that creates the timelessness of the church—it is the very essence of the invisible church, the ties that bind beyond human-made boundaries randomly drawn in the ground, beyond separations of generations of time, and beyond seemingly uncrossable expanses of space. It is this word that brings light where there is darkness, love where there is indifference, liberation where there is captivity, and life where there is death. It is on and by this divine word—the word of Christ crucified and raised—and this word alone that the church is the church in the world to the well-being of the neighbor and to the glory of God.
[1] Anthony C. Thiselton, The First Epistle to the Corinthians, NIGTC, eds. I. Howard Marshall and Donald A. Hagner (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2000), 1169. “The cross…remains ‘the ground and criterion’ of Christian existence and Christian identity.”
[2] Thiselton, First Corinthians, 1185. “The readers have in turn…received it. This is a happy rendering…to indicate transmission of a tradition for which the thrice-repeated καί is scarcely accidental.”
[3] Thiselton, First Corinthians, 1186. “Here Paul envisages the possibility of such a superficial or confused appropriation of the gospel in which no coherent grasp of its logical or practical entailments for eschatology or for practical discipleship had been reached. Incoherent belief is different from believing in vain.”
[4] Thiselton, First Corinthians, 1205. “…the twelve became a formal title for the corporate apostolic witness of those who had also followed Jesus during his earthly life, and who therefore underlined the continuity of witness to the One who was both crucified and raised.”
[5] Thiselton, First Corinthians, 1185. “Paul declares the gospel as that which is not only revealed (cf. Galatians 1 and 2) but is also ‘both transmitted and received’ and therefore in principle constitutes ‘the premises of the audience’ which provide the foundation on the basis of which Paul will develop his argument about the resurrection of the dead.”
[6] Thiselton, First Corinthians, 1184-1185. Both italics and bold are part of the original text; when my emphasis, it will be noted in the footnote. “We must understand the gospel in 15:1, therefore, to denote more than the message of the resurrection, but not less. It denotes the message of salvation; in vv. 3-4 Paul endorses the shared pre-Pauline tradition which both proclaims the death and resurrection of Christ and interprets it in terms of the saving and transforming power of the God as this receives explanation and intelligibility within the frame of reference provided by the [Old Testament] scriptures.”
[7] Thiselton, First Corinthians, 1186. “Paul does, however, refer to a continuity of handing on and receiving which constitutes, in effect, an early creed which declares the absolute fundamentals of Christian faith and one which Christian identity (and the experience of salvation) is built.”
[8] Thiselton, First Corinthians, 1188. “There is a very close relationship between the dimension of proclamation or kerygma which declares a gospel truth claim and the dimension of confession or self-involvement which declares a personal stake in what is asserted.”
[9] Thiselton, First Corinthians, 1207-1208. “…we have independent evidence that. Paul clearly regards James the Lord’s brother as an apostle…’…Paul certainly indicates that he regarded James as an apostle.’ This anticipates the point that for Paul the term apostle is always wider than the Twelve.”
[12] Thiselton, First Corinthians, 1208. “The emphasis lies in the undeserved grace of God…who chooses to give life and new creation to those reckoned as dead, or, in Paul’s case, both a miscarried, aborted foetuswhose stance had benhostileto Christ and to the new people of God.”
[13] Thiselton, First Corinthians, 1213. “‘Ecumenicity’ is not the lowest common denominator in a miscellany of individual experiences. For Paul it is defined by the common kerygma of a shared, transmitted gospel tradition, anchored in the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ as ἐν πρώτοις.”
[14] Thiselton, First Corinthians, 1194. “…the promise of God which remains steadfast…depends entirely on God’s sovereign will and gift of grace to give life to the dead…, who as the dead have no power to create or to resume life as God’s chosen community.”
[15] Thiselton, First Corinthians, 1210. “Given Paul’s association of this encounter with the resurrected life as one of new creation…it seems most probably that Paul perceives himself as one who was unable to contribute anything to an encounter win which God’s sovereign grace was all, even to the extent to giving life to one who was humanly beyond all hope. This precisely reflects the theme of resurrection as God’s sovereign gift of life to the dead…”
[16] Thiselton, First Corinthians, 1195. “…the transfer ‘from death to life’ thereby provides a new identity for a new community: God can ‘raise up’ children of Abraham from the stones….hence Paul uses this figure of the ‘nothingness’ of death to expound the establishing of the divine promise of life and identity to the nothings, to the disinherited, to the Gentiles.”
[17] Thiselton, First Corinthians, 1211. V. 10 “We come to the heart of Paul’s point Underserved, unmerited grace (χάρις) which springs from the free, sovereign love of God alone and becomes operative in human life not only determines Paul’s life and apostolic vocation but also characterizes all Christian existence, not least the promise of resurrection and the reality of the activity of Christ as Lord.”
[18] Thiselton, First Corinthians, 1212. “The emphasis on labor reminds us that difficulty and cost in Christian work, far from suggesting an absence of God’s grace, presupposes the gift of such grace to prosecute the work through all obstacles…The theme of grace in and through ‘weakness’ is one which Paul constantly urges to Corinth.”
Psalm 84:3,5: Happy are they who dwell in your house, Abba God! they will always be praising you…Those who go through the desolate valley will find it a place of springs, for the early rains have covered it with pools of water.
Introduction
We are in times that are exposing who we are and what we stand for. We are in times that are exposing what we believe and how those beliefs inform our actions. We are in times, as a church, where we have been exposed and have been found lacking.
I’ve watched the last week and a half unfold; I’m an observer, it’s my preferred mode through the world. So, I’ve watched as things were said, actions taken, and when an Episcopal bishop preached. Focusing in on the last part of this abbreviated list of events, I listened to the bold and biblical sermon by the Episcopal Bishop of the Diocese of Washington, DC, Bp. Budde and watch it take over the stage that was to be reserved for a new president taking oath and office. What caught my attention, though, wasn’t the sermon itself. From what I can tell and conceive to be the event of proclamation and preaching, Bp. Budde was well within her sphere—as a bishop in the Episcopal church—in explicating the scriptures in the way she did, preaching Christ, and offering a humble plea to an incoming leader in the way she did.[1] (Church history is literally filled with such sermons.) What caught my attention was how people reacted: either people were astounded by such a sermon, or they were angered. Hmmm, such drastic responses; seems somethings afoot…
Why? I kept wondering. Why were people so flabbergasted for well or for ill? Why were people stunned by the sermon or clutching their pearls over it? Then it dawned on me. Ah, we don’t expect a denominational preacher, let alone a mainline, liberal leader, to be so bold and confident to, figuratively, stand toe to toe with a leader of the temporal realm and assert her spiritual authority within her spiritual realm. We’ve stopped expecting this level of proclamatory confrontation because it has ceased to be given to us. We’ve stopped expecting this boldness of preaching because we’ve grown lukewarm over the decades—preferring our own comfort while fearing the power of big donors in our churches. We’ve opted to sacrifice the radical Word of God’s revolutionary love for the beloved on the altar of our intellectualism in the name of demythology. We’ve allowed the gospel of Christ to be stripped of its power to summon the sleeping awake and the dead alive, sending into the world empty and vacuous notions of good news. We’ve been exposed; we’ve forgotten what preaching is about: comforting the afflicted and afflicting the comfortable, awaking the sleepers, called the dead into new life, and bringing Christ close to God’s beloved by the power of the Holy Spirit.
Malachi 3:1-4
Our First Testament text is from the book of Malachi; it is situated in the Persian period when the temple was rebuilt and sacrificial worship was underway.[2]Malachi means “my messenger;”[3] according to rabbinic sources, Malachi was considered not only one of the last prophets (along with Haggai and Zechariah) but a sage, too.[4] This prophet-sage messenger came to the people of Judah, those who seemed to have everything back in order and brings God’s message and word of judgment. Malachi is holding up a mirror to the people of Judah and asking them to take a long look; is everything as great as it seems? Malachi asks the people to consider how they fail God and themselves—day in and day out, personally and publicly.[5] Unlike other prophets who focused their attention on the leadership of Israel allowing God’s word of judgment to illuminate the sickness and decay, the violence and death embedded deep in the leadership, Malachi is exposing the people. According to Malachi, everything is not great even with the rebuilding of the Temple and the reinvigoration of sacrifices; Malachi’s people have grown comfortable while ignoring their own spiritual malnourishment wreaking havoc on their relationship with God and with themselves: they’ve neglected Torah, the hearing of Shema; they’ve ceased to hear so deeply that they follow God and God’s word of Torah.[6]
So Malachi comes and exposes the people for who and where they are; Malachi exhorts the people back to Torah, which has just been canonized.[7] One of the neat things about the text, the nitty-gritty exposing parts of the text, is that the exposure is not strictly built from the fear of God’s judgment, but rather getting the people to identify with the “evil-doers” within the text[8]—just as the prophet Nathan did with King David. In this “identification” not only do the hearing and reading people find words to say to God (for the “evil doers” speak and are heard in the text), but they are also asked to examine themselves, to see where they fall short, and to repent.[9] When we speak along with the characters of the story, we, effectually become and identify with those characters and their words become our words and that can be exposing, especially here for Malachi’s people.
Thus says the Lord, See, I am sending my messenger to prepare the way before me, and the Lord whom you seek will suddenly come to his temple. The messenger of the covenant in whom you delight– indeed, he is coming, says the Lord of hosts. But who can endure the day of his coming, and who can stand when he appears? (Malachi 3:1-2)
While we don’t really know who the messenger is in our passage (v. 1), we Christians tend to see this messenger not as Malachi himself (though he is a type of messenger here), but as Jesus the Christ, this person who is God.[10] With this in mind, the “prepare the way” is a reference to the preparations needed in the heart of the people. This heart need preparing because it’s this heart that is calcified and looks for God in many places (even the Temple) but never finds God because the seeking is oriented toward that which resonates with the kingdom of humanity and not with the reign of God. God works in and through the heart of God’s people, causing them to hear so deeply that they heed and harken to God’s Word by faith and in action.[11] For Malachi, this heart must be prepared to receive the messenger.
These two verses emphasize that the messenger of God is coming to the people.[12] The messenger comes, and the messenger represents God to the people. Considering this messenger coming, the human question is asked: who can endure? Rightly, our response, when looking around and taking honest stock of our captivity and complicity in and to the kingdom of humanity, is: no one! No one will be able to endure; and this humility is part of the desired preparations mentioned earlier—preparation that reorients the creature to their creaturely status before and to their Creator.[13]
But humility isn’t the only form of being prepared mentioned by Malachi; he goes on:
For he is like a refiner’s fire and like fullers’ soap; he will sit as a refiner and purifier of silver, and he will purify the descendants of Levi and refine them like gold and silver, until they present offerings to the Lord in righteousness. Then the offering of Judah and Jerusalem will be pleasing to the Lord as in the days of old and as in former years.
The people will be humbled, and they will be purified by fire and cleansed with a “sharp cleansing agent” (think: lye). The messenger, the one who comes as God’s representative, is both the “Purifier” and the “Purification”, the people will be stripped of their complacency and comfortability.[14] It is here, at this point of exposure, humility, and purification where God can, once again, work through and with the people. God’s exposure brings life to God’s people; they are found wanting and God provides.
Conclusion
I know it’s uncomfortable to be exposed; but exposure leads to healing and health. Being exposed allows us to locate ourselves in the mess and then find a way out of it, the path out is illuminated by the light of the Word of God that is the calling of our names in the proclamation of Christ. To be exposed by this messenger, by the Word of Malachi, by our Christ is to be exposed and accepted and received and not exposed and condemned and sent away.
Just as Malachi held up a mirror to his audience (reader and hearer), asking them to take a long and hard look, we too are being addressed and being asked to do the same by God in Christ by the power of the Holy Spirit found here in these ancient words. If we take this moment seriously, we will see that we’ve lost our focus, we’ve lost our words, we’ve lost our orientation toward God, taking on everything else we’ve deemed to be good and right. If we’ve allowed our spaces to be acquired by the kingdom of humanity, we’ve forfeited our voice and have forgotten what God expects of us as God’s beloved children. Hope is not lost though, because exposure has come and we can rejoice because we were blind, but now we see, we were deaf but now we hear, we were dumb and now we speak. We can find ourselves relocated before God, oriented to the Creator as their creatures, we can reclaim our space in the world as the manifestation of the spiritual realm, and we can, once again, find our voices to speak into the darkness of the kingdom of humanity and remember exactly what God expects of us as followers of Christ baptized by fire and the Holy Spirit. If we don’t hear our names called by Bp. Budde when she addressed President Trump, then we’ve missed the entire point of that sermon. And what does God expect/”require” of us? To love Mercy, to do Justice, and to walk Humbly with our God.[15]
[1] It was quite good, appropriate, and within the rights and privileges vested in a consecrated Bishop of the Episcopal church. Briefly, this vocation—the vocation of Bishop—has been, is, and always will be principally about two things inspired and informed by the Holy Spirit, faithfully and prayerfully: caring for the beloved of God in Christ as Christ (directly and indirectly through their priests and deacons) and protecting the faith of the church by maintaining the proclamation of God’s Word made known in Christ and pointing the church to Christ.
[2] Ehud Ben Zvi, “Malachi,” The Jewish Study Bible Jewish Publication Society Tanakh Translation, eds. Adele Berlin and Marc Zvi Brettler (Oxford: OUP, 2004), 1268. “The book of Malachi is set in a period when the Second Temple was rebuilt and sacrificial worship was resumed. It was composed in the Persian period, and is addressed originally to the inhabitants of the Persian province of Yehud (Judah).”
[3] Ehud Ben Zvi, “Malachi,” 1268. Malachi = “My Messenger”
[4] Ehud Ben Zvi, “Malachi,” 1268. “Haggai, Zechariah, and Malachi are all understood by the Rabbis as the last of the prophets, and the Talmud mentions rulings and saying s by this prophet that seem to characterize him as an early sage, in addition to his being a prophet.”
[5] Ehud Ben Zvi, “Malachi,” 1268. “The readers of the book of Malachi are asked to look at some pitfalls in everyday life and in the cult of the Temple, and particularly at how they affect the relationship between the Lord and Israel, resulting in a lack of prosperity.”
[6] Ehud Ben Zvi, “Malachi,” 1268-1269. “Messages of cultic reform and proper worship are deeply interwoven with the conviction of the coming of a future day in which the Lord will trample all evildoers. Such optimism about an ideal future is typical in prophetic works. Further, the book asks its readers to identify proper behavior in these and all matters with following the Torah (or Teaching of Moses.”
[7] Ehud Ben Zvi, “Malachi,” 1269. “As a whole, the book is aimed at persuading its readership to follow the Torah of Moses, or at strengthening their resolve to continue to do so. This message must be understood within the book’s historical setting, soon after the canonization of the Torah.”
[8] Ehud Ben Zvi, “Malachi,” 1269. “The use of disputation format in much of the book contributes rhetorically to that purpose, for it allows the arguments of evil doers to be heard, in order to be countered and neutralized. Further, it allows the reader some limited form of self-identification with the actions of the evildoers, and as such serves as a call for them to examine themselves and repent.”
[10] Ehud Ben Zvi, “Malachi,” 1273. “The identity of the messenger in 3.1 has been highly debated. Is My messenger (Heb ‘malakhi’) Malachi? Or is there at least a pun on the name of the prophet? Is the messenger the angel of the covenant, a zealous, powerful enforcer of the covenant who is like a smelter’s fire and like fuller’s lye (i.e., a purifying, caustic treatment)? Is he Elijah (see v. 23)? Does the text indicate an expectation of a priestly Messiah? …The New Testament merges this v. with Isa. 40.3 and identifies the expected messenger is John the Baptist (Matt. :0; Mark 1.2; Luke 7.27).”
[11] Martin Luther, “Lectures on Malachi,” in Lectures on the Minor Prophets I: Hosea, Joel, Amos, Obadiah, Micah, Nahum, Zephaniah, Haggai, Malachi. LW 18, trans. Richard J. Dinda, ed. Hilton C. Oswald (Saint Louis: Concordia, 1975), 409. “That preparing, then, is to make humble and to arrange things so as to allow God to work in one. You see, the way of the Lord is where He himself walks. The prophet mentions nothing about our ways except that we should abstain from them.”
[12] LW 18:409. “Behold, He comes! The repetition indicates certainty.”
[13] LW 18:410. “2. But who can endure the day of His coming? In Hebrew this reads: ‘Who will regulate or control the day, etc.?’ or, ‘Who will provide?’ It is as if he were saying: ‘Remain in your fear, then. Stay humble. Let that Messenger prepare you.”
[14] LW 18:410. “Blazing, or purifying….[Hebrew word] means a sharp cleaning agent or soap that washed great stains out of garments…The kingdom of Christ is a mystical smelting furnace that purges out the impurity of the old Adam. …Christ is not only the Purifier but also the purifying agent. He is not only the blacksmith but also the Fire; not only the Cleaner but also the Soap.”
[15] This is an adaption of Micha 6:8, “He has told you, O mortal, what is good, and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice and to love kindness and to walk humbly with your God?” NRSVUE
Psalm 36:5-7 5 Your love, O Abba God, reaches to the heavens, and your faithfulness to the clouds. Your righteousness is like the strong mountains, your justice like the great deep; you save both human and beast, O Abba God. How priceless is your love, O God! your people take refuge under the shadow of your wings.
Introduction
I saw a meme recently that referred to January as a big MONDAY. Like, the whole month is just one Monday. Now, as someone who prefers Monday to Tuesday, I wasn’t displeased with this idea—though, it did make me consider if March or February was the big TUESDAY of the year… No matter my opinions on the meme or the days, the feeling holds. Think about it. We are two weeks out from many parties, festivities, celebrations, and feasts. We are more than two weeks out from opening presents and receiving cards and picture in the mail. We are two weeks into houses and business slowly removing their festive lights from public view. We are two weeks into feeling the lean and the austere as we pull back from the Christmas season back to the “normal” day in and day out. We’re two weeks into the cold feeling colder and the dark seeming darker.[1]
It feels like one big Monday.
Sometimes the temptation in the Monday (no matter how long or short it is) is to pull in and away, hide, and burrow in deeper under those duvets and comforters. There are times when this is exactly what we (I?) may need to do, but it can’t and shouldn’t be our only response to Mondays mondaying. Here’s why: because it’s in our lack, in our weak, in our exhaustion, in our want, in our empty, in our sad, in our “I can’t even” where God shows up. In the Mondayest Monday that ever Mondayed, God shows up. When we can’t, God can; when all that’s left is water, God brings wine.
John 2:1-11
Now Jesus says to them, “Fill the water pots full of water.” And they filled them up to the brim. Then he says to them, “Now draw water and bring [it] forth to the superintendent of the banquet.” And they brought [it] forth. And as the superintendent of the banquet tastes the water it has become wine! And he had not perceived from where it came… (Jn 2:7-9b)[2]
John brings us to a very familiar story; one we all know quite well: Jesus turning water into wine. While always an excellent argument about why wine is “okay,” there’s more to the story here than an argument for drinking and to why it’s included in our lectionary.[3] This story and its embedded miracle, are an “Epiphany” story and miracle.[4] While not all that original to the Christian narrative (there is some intersection with the legend of Dionysus[5]) the story features the revelation of the glory of God in Christ; the son of humanity Jesus Christ’s acceptance and revelation as the son of God. This one is no ordinary one, John is saying in this miracle story; both Jesus’s humanity and divinity are being exposed here by John.
The human part is designated by the story opening on Mary and Jesus and the disciples at a wedding in Cana (vv. 1-2)—a rather regular human affair. Noticing that the wine has fallen short (there’s no more), Mary, Jesus’s mother, brings this to Jesus’s attention, “They do not have wine,” she says to him (v. 3). And Jesus’s response is quite sharp and frank, “What [is it] to you and me, woman? My hour has not yet arrived” (v. 4) The tone is “stop bugging me,”[6] and, frankly, if there ever was a more real and human interaction between a mother and her eldest son, I know not of it. But Jesus’s use of “Woman” (γύναι) is unique here and places a certain distance between himself and Mary[7] exacerbating the tension that’s building toward the miracle as incredible. In other words, Jesus dismisses the request, but the story isn’t over.[8] Mary then dismisses Jesus’s curt reply and declaration that it’s not time for him to be public and pushed into the confrontation with the status-quo and the powers and rulers of the kingdom of humanity.[9] She tells the servants at the wedding banquet, “Whatever he might say to you, you do.” (v. 5). Mary’s aim, or, rather, John’s aim is to get Jesus to do a miracle.[10] And so the story moves on.
John tells us that there were six large waterpots appointed for purification rites according to the children of Israel; [these pots] holding two or three measures of 8.75 gallons (v. 6). (That is, max, 26.25 gallons per waterpot and thus, 157.5 gallons total.) Then John tells us, Jesus says to/commands [the servants], “Fill the waterpots full of water.” And they filled them up to the brim (v. 7). Then a second command, Jesus says to/commands [the servants], “Now draw water and bring [it] forth to the superintendent of the banquet.” And they brought [it] forth (v. 8). At this point the narrative shifts from Jesus and the servants to the superintendent of the banquet. John writes, Now as the superintendent of the banquet tastes the water, it had become wine(!), and he had not perceive from where it came. But those who have drawn the water had perceived (v.9-9c). John keeps the miracle relatively obscured, only the reading audience knows that Jesus did this miracle. Thus, for John, God’s divine activity is celebrated but cloaked. [11] God is glorified not by direct praise but by the concrete miracle of water turning into wine[12] in the midst of a people being made happy,[13] celebrating, and coming together;[14],[15]
John continues, And the superintendent of the banquet calls out to the bridegroom and says to him, “All people appoint the good wine first, and whenever [the people] were drunk with wine [appoints] the lesser; you, you keep the good wine until just now!” (vv. 9d-10). A miracle has occurred, the best wine is brought out last, and, according to John, this illuminates Jesus as the promised messiah[16] and that this event is just the first of the signs in Cana of Galilee that reveal Jesus glory and his status with God and among humanity (v. 11a). God’s glory is made known in and through Christ, and this is the goal and object of John’s material–specifically around the miracle stories. For John, there is no way to mistake it, Jesus is the son of God, the promised one, the long awaited Messiah, the one who reveals God in his flesh and God’s will through his words and deeds[17] and thus solicits faith from people—and his disciples believed in him (v. 11b). This is the point, to come into contact with the Holy One of Israel, to find oneself face to face with God in Christ and to believe, to receive grace and truth thus to be saved and rescued from one’s dead self unto a new alive self to be in the world for the neighbor, the beloved of God, to the glory of God just like Jesus. [18]
Conclusion
Jesus took six empty waterpots and some water and turned it all into a reason to continue the party. This is a real and true miracle. And John’s point is how this miracle, demonstrates Jesus’s divine glory, his relation and representation of God as God’s son. This is what Jesus does, he takes what is empty, fatigued, worn out, dead and renders it full, rested, fresh, and alive. While we could wax eloquently in defense of partying and celebrating with wine, now isn’t the time for that. The real thing to focus on is how Jesus can bring to life ordinary objects and send them into the world for the robust divine purpose of bringing God’s love, life, and liberation to the people.
As I said at the beginning, it’s in our lack, in our weak, in our exhaustion, in our fatigue, in our want, in our empty, in our sad, in our “I can’t even” where God shows up. When we can’t God can. When all that’s left is water, God brings wine. When it all seems and appears to be nothing and gone and ready to be washed up and closed down, God shows up and reinvigorates that which is dead because that is what God does: God is the strength in our weakness because when we are weak and can’t God is strong and can. The radical thing is that God is glorified when, in spite of ourselves, God’s will, mission, and revolution of love life and liberation are not only participated in, but moved forward through us and our weakness by his soundness. We are the waterpots, we are the ones taken, filled, and made to be glorious instruments of belonging and God’s glory. Beloved, in this mega-Monday of a January, be assured God is still at work in and through you.
[1] I credit my son Quinn with giving me this idea that there is “December Winter” and “January Winter” and the two are very different.
[3] Did you know that all three Epiphany 2s have a reading from John either first or second chapters according to our lectionary?
[4] Rudolf Bultmann, The Gospel of John: A Commentary, trans. GR Beasley-Murray, Gen Ed, RWN Hoare and JK Riches (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1971), 118-119. Originally published as, Das Evangelium des Johannes (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1964, 1966). “The source counted this as the first miracle. It is easy to see why it put it at the beginning of its collection; for it is an epiphany miracle…There can be no doubt that the story has been taken over form heathen legend and ascribed to Jesus. In fact the motif of the story, the changing of the water into wine, is a typical motif of the Dionysus legend.”
[7] Bultmann, John, 116. “The refusal is a rough one…What is surprising here is the form of address, γύναι, where one expects ‘Mother’. Even though it is not disrespectful or scornful, it sets a peculiar distance between Jesus and his mother.”
[8] Bultmann, John, 116. “The purpose of the preparation is precisely to bring out the character of the miracle as παράδοξον by raising the tension. This is done here, as elsewhere, by making Jesus at first refuse the request, but in such a way as to keep the expectation alive.”
[9] Cardenal, Solentiname, 77. “Carlos Alberto: ‘…By doing this he was already pushing himself into his public life, I mean, into struggle, and now he was going to be persecuted…I see that right after this in the following passage, Saint John already has Jesus driving the money changers out of the temple, and also talking about his death. So it’s clear that this miracle speeded things up.’”
[10] Bultmann, John, 116. “When the wine runs out, Jesus’ mother brings it to his notice; of course she does this with the aim of getting him to perform a miracle, as can be seen from Jesu’ answer v. 4, and as was also to be expected from the style of the miracle story, in which everything is related with an eye on the main point of the story and must be understood in relation to this point.”
[11] Bultmann, John, 118. “It is in accordance with the style of the miracle stories that the miraculous process itself is not described; the divine action remains a mystery.”
[12] Bultmann, John, 118. “As in other miracle stories, the greatness of what has happened is emphasised by a demonstration or acclamation by the public. Yet here the παράδοξον is not brought out by a generalized phrase, but by a concrete scene: the water had been turned into the most excellent wine!…This saying marks the end of the narrative proper: any further words would only detract from the effect.”
[13] Cardenal, Solentiname, 78. “Oscar: ‘It seems to me that the wine means joy, a party. To be happy. Enjoyment. Also love. He wanted to make us see that he was bringing enjoyment, happiness, a party.’”
[14] Cardenal, Solentiname, 78. “Olivia: ‘Joy. And also unity. Wine unites. He was coming to bring about unity among people. But liquor can separate too, and lead to quarrels, stabbings…’”
[15] Cardenal, Solentiname, 79. “Marcelino: ‘We see then that he was coming to bring unity and brotherhood among people. That’s the wine he brought. If there’s no brotherhood among people there’s no joy. Like a party where people are divided, where they don’t all share alike, it’s a party without joy….So a society with quarrels, with social classes, can’t have a true banquet, a true party.’”
[16] Cardenal, Solentiname, 78-79. “The prophet Amos had said that when the Messiah came there would be great harvests of wheat and grapes, and that the hills would distill wine. Isaiah says that God was going to prepare a banquet for all the peoples, with very good meat and very good wines. And he had also prophesied about the Messiah, saying that “they would not be sad.” By the miracle Christ is making it clear that he is the promised Messiah.’”
[17] Bultmann, John, 120. “For here, as elsewhere, the Evangelist’s figurative language refers not to any particular gift brought by the Saviour Jesus, but to Jesus himself as the Revealer, as is true of the images of the living water, the bread of life and the light, as well as of the shepherd and the vine; equally the wine refers not to any special gift, but to Jesus’ gift as a whole, to Jesus himself as the Revealer, as he is finally visible after the completion of his work.”
[18] Bultmann, John, 119. “For the Evangelist the meaning of the story is not contained simply in the miraculous event; this, or rather the narrative, is the symbol of something which occurs throughout the whole of Jesus’ ministry, that is, the revelation of the δόξα of Jesus. As understood by the Evangelist this is not the power of the miracle worker, but the divinity of Jesus as the Revealer, and it becomes visible for faith in the reception of χάρις and ἀλήθεια; his revelation of his δόξα is nothing more nor less than his revelation of the ὄνομα of the Father (17.6).”
Psalm 29:1-2, 11 Ascribe to Abba God, you gods, ascribe to Abba God glory and strength. Ascribe to God the glory due God’s Name; worship Abba God in the beauty of holiness. God shall give strength to God’s people; God shall give God’s people the blessing of peace.
Introduction
I don’t know about you, but I’ve had moments in my life where I have felt the heavy blankets of shame, disgrace, and regret. The dastardly thing about these emotions and feelings is that they never tend to stay on the surface, pinned to the exterior of the epidermis. They sink in deep, infecting the heart, mind, soul, the very being of a person. There isn’t enough soap and water hot enough to get at the dirt. There are times when I want to crawl into the shower and stay there, under the hot streams, until I feel clean, hoping beyond hope that the water cascading down, pouring over me would–somehow—penetrate through my flesh and cleanse my heart and mind, my soul and self, washing away these children of malfeasance. In the end, though, it’s just water, it can’t and won’t do the very thing I needed it to do. These are times I need something more than just water, I need divine fire. Under that falling water, I need to remember my confession: please forgive me Lord, a sinner. But I can’t stop there, I must press through that confession and remember this: In the name of Christ, I am Baptized. With Martin Luther, it’s here, in remembering my baptism where I am exposed by my confession and brought through that death into new life, placed deep in the presence of God through the purifying fires of faith in Christ by the power of the Holy Spirit.
Luke 3:15-17, 21-22
John answered and said to the people, “Indeed, I, I baptize you [with] water; but one comes who is stronger than me for whom I am not fit to untie the strap of his sandals. He, he will baptize you with [the] Holy Spirit and fire.” (Lk. 3:16)
In chapter 3, Luke brings us face to face with John. According to the first part of chapter three, John, the son of Zechariah, is going about the region of the Jordan proclaiming a baptism of repentance (vv. 2-3). In v. 7, people are coming to John in the Jordan to be baptized, and he is verbally exposing them and exhorting them to better life lived in the world (vv.7-14). Due to this interaction, the people begin to wonder with excitement that John might be the Messiah (v. 15).
Luke tells us John senses this building excitement and wonder about his role in God’s activity in the world, and quickly nips all speculation in the bud, Indeed, I, I baptize you [with] water; but one comes who is stronger than me whom I am not fit to untie the strap of his sandals. He, he will baptize you with [the] Holy Spirit and fire (v. 16). John makes a clear distinction here between the baptism he offers in the coming reign of God and the one Jesus will offer. His cleanses the outside, Jesus’s will cleanse not only the outside but also the inside. Luke has a couple of objectives in mind by placing these words on John’s tongue. First, at the time of writing, there were factions remaining of those who followed John and those who followed Jesus; for Luke, not even John wants anyone following him because he is one who points to Jesus (his is more prophet[1] than Christ).[2] Here, Luke, through John, places articulated emphasis on the baptism that Jesus will offer as the superior baptism to his water baptism. While both water and fire clean, only fire will purify.[3]
Luke’s second objective: to expose the significant difference between John’s baptism and Jesus’s (it’s not only that one is more powerful). The bigger difference is that one baptism includes receiving something. Where John’s baptism is a baptism of repentance and being washed clean with water (full stop), John does not claim to give anyone anything to fill the now vacant spot washed. But, according to Luke’s John, Jesus does. What is this gift? The Holy Spirit. The believer, the one who is baptized with fire and the Holy Spirit, receives the Holy Spirit in Jesus name via baptism. In other words, John’s baptizands aren’t empowered with anything, they’re just washed clean; Jesus’s are.[4] Those who receive the baptism of Jesus with fire and the Holy Spirit also receive the Holy Spirit and it is this “paraclete” (according to the gospel of John) who exposes and who empowers Jesus’s followers (i.e. through exposure and exhortation, or the growth discussed in the book of Ephesians) into the way of wisdom, love, and truth[5] and will continue to do so long after Jesus ascends.[6]
John then retreats to some rather intimidating imagery of judgment. Who has his winnowing shovel in hand to thoroughly purify his threshing floor and collect the grain into his grainery, but the chaff he will consume entirely [by] unquenchable fire (v. 17). Again, there are two important things being articulated here. The first is the comparison of Jesus and his baptism with fire and the Holy Spirit as an act of judgment,[7] or, what I would call “exposure”. The winnowing shovel is judgment; to winnow is to separate the chaff from the grain. For Luke’s John, Jesus comes with a winnowing shovel to judge by exposing everything to fire (judgment). This winnow shovel language echoes back to what John said at the beginning of the chapter about the axe being laid at the base of the tree to chop down those trees that are fruitless.[8] Thus judgment is clearly and explicitly intended here and no one is escaping divine fire! But, (and second) how Luke relays this winnowing is important: it’s in the past tense; as in: it’s already happened. Return to the imagery with me, one will come with a winnowing shovel and the grain will be collected together while the chaff is burned in the unquenchable fire. Thus, the winnowing has already been done by the time the collecting together of the grain and the burning of the chaff. In other words, for Luke, John has winnowed and Jesus will collect and the left over unusable parts will be burned up. Those who respond positively to John’s call for baptism by water will be the grain that is gathered up by Christ and baptized by him. [9] According to Luke, John is the fork in the road; if you are open to repentance baptism, then you are open to what comes when the Christ shows up. [10]
Then our passage closes with the well told story of Jesus’s baptism in the Jordan with John. Here Luke solidifies Jesus’s dual identification with God and with humanity;[11] demonstrating that Jesus is, without need of repentance, in solidarity with humanity’s plight (needing repentance) [12] as well as in solidarity with God’s mission in the world to bring absolution (the purification with fire and the Holy Spirit) to the beloved. As one of the many people in the Jordan, Jesus, too, is baptized; yet, as the one who is God’s son, he is recognized by God as God’s own by the opening of the heavens (v.21), and the Holy Spirit like a dove[13] came down bodily upon him, and a voice out of heaven came about, “You, You are my son; with you I am well-pleased” (v. 22). According to Luke, Jesus is the Son of Humanity and the Son of God, the one through whom God’s redemption comes[14] and through whom humanity will be both restored and represented in the heavenly realms.
Conclusion
To be baptized of water, to be cleaned by water is great; to be baptized with the Holy Spirit and God’s divine fire in the name of Christ is the call of anyone who follows Jesus out of that Jordan on that day and every day after that. Something I find interesting here is that this passage speaks not of two different fires but of one. Just like it is one light that illuminates the darkness, sending the darkness to its demise while illuminating that which is in the room; so does the divine fire that comes with the Christ send that existential and spiritual dirt to its demise while rendering the beloved object of that fire new and pure. The very thing that sends me into the hot shower to cleanse from head to toe is obliterated life chaff sent to the unquenchable fire in my confession and my recollection that I am baptized in Christ and with the Holy Spirit. Yet, I, in my flesh and in my soul do not escape that fire, but suffer through it like pottery in a kiln or gold in the refinery; what is left of the fire that surges over and through me is what is collected and stored in the grainery to serve and participate in God’s mission in the world, following after Jesus and walking within the same sand impressions left behind by my savior as he left the water. In my confession and in my need for Christ, I am summoned out of and away from death (chaff) and placed in the heart of God’s love, given new life, and sent forward in liberation renewed by faith and empowered by the Holy Spirit. That which is sentenced to death (my guilt, shame, regret, anything that hinders me from new life) is burned up forever, and that which is sentenced to life abundant (me, myself, and I) are refined and collected up into the grainery to be used by God in the world to God’s glory and the wellbeing of the neighbor, God’s beloved.
We, as God’s beloved, are called to walk through the one fire and to let God take what is chaff and burn it up completely and purify and refine by the baptism of Christ that is with God’s Holy Spirit and fire that which is to be collected as grain. In the event of faith, we, as God’s beloved, are brought into death and through it, finding ourselves resurrected on the other side, purified and made clean, inside and out, to be as Christ in the world, to represent God by word and deed, and to identify with the suffering and plight of our neighbors.
[1] Gonzalez, Luke, 50. “Thus what John is saying is that he is not even worthy to be counted among the lowest servants of the one whose coming he announces…In brief, Luke presents John as perhaps the greatest among the prophets and as the heir to the long line of leaders of Israel who significance was announced in that they were born of barren women; but even so, John cannot even be compared with Jesus.”
[2] Justo L. Gonzalez, Luke, Belief: A Theological Commentary on the Bible, eds. Amy Plantinga Pauw and William C. Placher (Louisville: WJK, 2010), 50. Luke is emphasizing Jesus over John “This is an important point for Luke, who apparently was writing at time when there were still those who claimed to be followers of John but not of Jesus and such views had spread beyond the confines of Judea to Diaspora Judaism…”
[3] Gonzalez, Luke, 51. “John baptizes with water; but Jesus will baptize ‘with the Hoy Spirit and with fire.’ Both water and fire are purifying agents; but fire is much more potent than water. Water may wash away whatever is unclean; but fire burns it away.”
[4] Gonzalez, Luke, 51. “Thus in Lukan theology there is a difference between a baptism of repentance, which is what John performed, and baptism in the name of Jesus, which is connected with receiving the Holy Spirit. John calls people to repent, and when they do this he baptizes them as a sign that they are cleaned of their former impurity. But Christian baptism, while still employing water, is ‘with the Holy Spirit and with fire.’ It is a cleansing (fire) and empowering (Holy Spirit).”
[6] Joel B. Green, “The Gospel of Luke,” The New International Commentary on the New Testament (Grand Rapids): Eerdmans, 1997), 180. “The conjunction of the Holy Spirit and fire in this baptism is puzzling within the context of Luke-Acts. The Holy Spirit has been present repeatedly in 1:5-2:52, where such roles as empowering and guiding were paramount; for Luke thus far the Holy Spirit has been a manifestation of eschatological blessing and an empowering presence critical to God’s redemptive mission. Baptism ‘with the Holy Spirit,’ then, must surely be related to these themes even if other connections of the Spirit with cleansing and purging are also in view. Fire, too, can have this meaning, and it may be that the figure John anticipates will administer s single baptism of refinement and empowerment.”
[7] Gonzalez, Luke, 51. “Furthermore, fire is a sign of impending judgment. John had declared that the axe was now at the root of the tree, so that a fruitless tree would be cut down and burned. Now something similar is said about the coming of Jesus: he comes with a winnowing fork in order to separate the wheat from the chaff, saving the former and burning the latter.”
[8] Gonzalez, Luke, 51. “Furthermore, fire is a sign of impending judgment. John had declared that the axe was now at the root of the tree, so that a fruitless tree would be cut down and burned. Now something similar is said about the coming of Jesus: he comes with a winnowing fork in order to separate the wheat from the chaff, saving the former and burning the latter.”
[9] Green, Luke, 182. “…the language John uses actually presumes that the process of winnowing has already been completed. Consequently, all that remains is to clear the threshing floor, and this is what John pictures. This means that John’s ministry of preparation is itself the winnowing, for his call to repentance set within his message of eschatological judgment required of people that they align themselves with or over against God’s justice. As a consequence, the role of Messiah is portrayed as pronouncing or enacting judgment on the people on the basis of their response to John.”
[10] Green, Luke, 182. “…it is important to realize that John presents his baptismal activity as an anticipation of the Messiah’s; his baptism forces a decision for or against repentance, and this prepare for the Messiah’s work…”
[11] Cardenal, Solentiname, 56. “One of the women said: ‘to give us an example. He didn’t need baptism but we did, and he did it so we would do it when we saw that even he did it.’” And, “Somebody else said: ‘And he could also have done it out of humility. He was with his people, with his group, and he wasn’t going to say: “I don’t need this, you do it, I don’t have any sin.” The others, the Pharisees, might say that, the ones who didn’t follow John. Not Jesus, he goes along with the others.”
[12] Cardenal, Solentiname, 56. “Alejandro: ‘You could also say out of solidarity. So he wouldn’t be separated form the group.’”
[13] Cardenal, Solentiname, 57. “‘It wasn’t that a dove descended, because it doesn’t say that a dove descended but “like a dove.” A dove is a soft and loving little animal. And the Holy Spirit is loving. It was the love of God that descended upon him.’”
[14] Green, Luke, 187. “The purpose of the divine voice in 3:22 is above all that of providing an unimpeachable sanction of Jesus with regard to his identity and mission. Working in concert with the endowment of the Holy Spirit, this divine affirmation presents in its most acute form Jesus’ role as God’s agent of redemption. This accentuates Jesus’ role as God’s representative, the one through whom God’s aim will be further presented and worked out in the story, but it also demonstrates at least in a provisional way the nature of Jesus’ mission by calling attention to the boundaries of his exercise of power.”
Psalm 96:11-13 Let the heavens rejoice, and let the earth be glad; let the sea thunder and all that is in it; let the field be joyful and all that is therein. Then shall all the trees of the wood shout for joy before God when God comes, when God comes to judge the earth. Abba God will judge the world with righteousness and the peoples with Abba God’s truth.
Luke 2:1-20
Our gospel passage opens up with, Now it happened in those days a decree came out from Emperor Augustus to take a census of all the state (v.1). Luke further clarifies that this first census occurred while Quirinius was governor of Syria (v.2); this is Luke locating this very, very, very old story within the history of the kingdom of humanity.[1] We’re also told that all the people were going to give [their] names for registration [the census] each in their own cities (v.3) because that is what the census demanded. So, a (very, very, very) pregnant Mary (v.5) is traveling from Nazareth to Bethlehem by donkey with her husband to-be, Joseph, who was of the lineage of David (v.4) (and this is why he’s going to Bethlehem, because it’s also the “City of David”). Mary’s physical situation wasn’t considered as a valid reason to opt out of the journey because oppression, adverse to mercy, knows no limits, and trickles down from on high and disrupts and disturbs the everyday lives of the least of these—no one is excluded from the impact of this oppression no matter how much one might be deluded by false identification with the powerful. [2] And, considering Mary’s very pregnant situation and arriving in Bethlehem, Luke tells us, Now it happened while being there the days of [Mary’s] begetting completed, and she brought forth her first born son, and she wrapped him in swaddling clothes and laid him down in a manger because there was not a place for them in the inn (vv.6-7).
There it is, the Christmas story; the one we are all here to celebrate, the one we are all very familiar with. But Luke has more to share because he believes we need to hear a bit more of the story. So, he goes on. Luke shifts the scene: we go from the stable and manger, and find ourselves among the shepherds and their sheep, in the cool night air under a blanket of stars. And shepherds were in that region living in the fields and watching over their flock keeping guard through the night (v. 8). Luke’s language is brief, but his point is anything but.[3] Remember that reference back in vv.1-2 about Augustus, Quirinius, and the census? Well, turns out that’s a bit more than a location in history; it’s a commentary on the oppressive political regime[4] that was about to become even more oppressive once this exploitative[5] census finished. This census wasn’t just a tally of who is who and who is where, but a way for the government to dip oppressive hands deeper into the livelihoods of all the people from the wealthiest to the poorest, the poorest being most impacted by the results of the census. [6] Luke sends us to the shepherds because it is these humble tenders of livestock who are looking for more than literal wolves out hunting for a quick late night meal—wolves they could and were trained to fight off. No, the shepherds on this night feared bigger wolves who were on the prowl in bipedal fashion;[7] against these they could not fight and if they did (or if they even spoke of it) it would be considered subversive and thus rebellion or insurrection and punishable.[8] These shepherds stayed awake to stay on guard and keep watch; they stayed awake because they were angry, scared, and terrified about what was coming.[9] The existing darkness of the night doubled as the shroud of socio-political darkness rolled in.
And it is to these scared, anxious, tired, poor, powerless shepherds[10] an angel of God comes. Luke tells us that in the blink of an eye the darkness surrounding the shepherds is obliterated by the glory of God shining around them, and an angel of God stood among them (v. 9). The shepherds go from hidden to suddenly exposed,[11] from the least significant[12] to the most important, and they are terrified.[13] So, the angel of God says, “Do not be afraid, for behold! I proclaim good news to you, a great joy whichsoever will be for all the people! Today a savior who is Christ the Lord was born for you in the city of David! And this [will be] a sign to you: you will find a newborn child having been wrapped in swaddling clothes and being laid in a manger!” (vv. 10-11). The shepherds may have not been the most erudite of the people, but they knew that the coming of the savior indicated liberation. As the darkness of the decree from the kingdom of humanity goes out over the land threatening increased captivity, indifference, and death, in this moment in the intersection of celestial and earthly realms it collides head-on with the light of the word of God, the Savior Messiah, now born and lying in a manger promising to bring spiritual and political love, life, and liberation.[14]
Luke tells us further that suddenly it happened a great army of heaven was praising God with the angel, saying, “Glory to God Most High and upon earth peace among humanity of [God’s] favor!” (vv. 13-14). And as fast as the angel and their folx showed up, they left(v. 15a). Here something interesting happens. As the angels leave, the shepherds talk to one another (v. 15b). What did they discuss? Luke tells us: “Indeed, let us travel until Bethlehem and let us see this word which has happened which God declared to us!” (v. 15c). Luke then tells us, And they hastened and found Mary and Joseph and the new born child being laid in the manger” (v. 16). Did you catch it? They left their fields and their sheep and hastened to find Mary and the baby, the savior, the Christ, the one who is the long-awaited fulfillment of the promise of God’s liberation, the promise fulfilled now wrapped in swaddling clothes and placed in a dirty manger, the ancient of days, the great counselor, Immanuel. They dropped everything and went—everything that defined them, sustained them, comforted them. In that moment, they left it all behind to pursue the sign of the fulfilled promise of divine liberation come down low, to earth, to them. Good news does that; whereas the bad news of the census of the kingdom of humanity drove them deeper into darkness, the good news of Messiah and of the coming reign of God summoned them into light. On this night, they left; they left, and when they came back from visiting with Mary and sharing their story (vv. 17-18), they were new people, with a new word, with a new vision, with a new hope, with a new song to rejoice!
Conclusion
I don’t know about you, but I want (need?) this story to be true and real right about now. I want to have God intercept this world and intervene, to come here and show up. I want the reign of God to literally break into the kingdom of humanity, right the wrongs, establish justice, and bring real, tangible peace. I want the night sky to part and the light of the celestial realm to stream through. I want to turn and see the Christ in the manger, the long-awaited promise fulfilled. I want angels to show up and proclaim actual good news to; I want them to tell me to go and see so I have proof. But here I am, just regular me in this regular church telling a regular story to some regular people. As far as I can tell, there has been no divine intervention; I can’t help it, I find myself asking, where, oh where is God…? As I celebrate and remember the birth of the Christ, where is God now, tonight?
And then I realize, this is Luke’s point. We think this story is solely about the birth of Christ and about God coming low to save us. And while it is very much about that, stopping there truncates the story Luke is telling Theophilus and, thus, telling us. Just remembering the birth of Christ and not also the oppressed shepherds met in the middle of the night in fields adjacent to Bethlehem places the emphasis on the wrong syllable of the narrative. This story isn’t solely about the birth of Christ, it is also about the rebirth of the shepherds. Tonight, in remembering the nativity of the Christ, we are also asked to recall the shepherds who were summoned and sent, who were reoriented toward something completely different and completely new. We need to see that this is the story about far-off, isolated and alienated, terrified and anxious shepherds who are afraid of what the future holds, who doubt, who are afraid, who feel abandoned, who very well may have been wondering where is God, tonight? And it’s these same shepherds who are not only met but also summoned to go (as they are!) and greet the newborn ruler of the reign of God, the one who will take on the empire of the kingdom of humanity, the one who will bring life where there is death, love where there is indifference, and liberation where there is captivity.
In the divine calling of the shepherds, we hear our own summons. Tonight, as the angel comes to proclaim good news to the shepherds, we, too, are receiving that very same news.[15] Tonight, as the shepherds are sent, so are we. Tonight, as the shepherds encounter God swaddled, we are encountered by God in the proclamation of this good news from the angel to the shepherds, of the shepherds meeting and marveling at the first-born baby of Mary.
Like the shepherds before us, we are exposed by the light of heaven and summoned from what was and sent toward something new, something different, something better. Amid our fear, our doubt, our desperations while being submerged in a world that is dead set on burning itself down, we, through this story, come face to face with God, born to a single woman of color, swaddled and laid in a manger. Tonight, if but for a moment, we dare to have hope, seek peace, grasp love, and risk having joy. Tonight, along with the shepherds we harken to the divine summons and embrace the truth of the reign of God defined by love, life, and liberation. Tonight, the Christ is born anew among us, in our heart, for us. Breathe deep, rest, be comforted, and rejoice. Again, I say, Rejoice.
[1] Justo L. Gonzalez, Luke, Belief: A Theological Commentary on the Bible, eds. Amy Plantinga Pauw and William C. Placher (Louisville: WJK, 2010), 32-33. “It is characteristic of Luke, for it does not appear in any of the other Gospels…[and] indicates Luke’s interest in placing his story within the context of world history”
[2] Gonzalez, Luke, 33. “For a period before the advent of the Roman Empire, the Jews had been struggling against Syrian domination. Now their land was ruled from Syria by a governor appointed by Rome. Whatever the actual chronology may have been, the political structure is clear: the Jews have a puppet government under Syrian and Roman power. As usual, oppression is not a merely political matter, the concern only of those directly involved in politics. It also reaches the every day lives of people, as is seen in the very fact that Joseph and Mary have to travel to Bethlehem even though she is about to give birth.”
[3] Gonzalez, Luke, 33. “This is not a mellow, bucolic story about some shepherds tending their sheep with little or no care beyond the possibility of a wandering wolf. That is not the setting in which Luke presents the story.”
[4] Gonzalez, Luke, 33. “The setting is rather that of people living under and oppressive regime. The mention of Augustus and Quirinius…is politically charged.”
[5] Gonzalez, Luke, 33. “A census usually announced grater poverty and exploitation. It was as welcome among subjects of the Roman Empire as undocumented immigrants in industrialized nations welcome a census today.”
[6] Gonzalez, Luke, 33. “A census had sinister implications. It was not just counting people in order to see how many there were, and what population trends were. In ancient times, and long thereafter, a census was in fact an inventory of all the wealth of a region—its people, its animals, and its crops—so that the government could be able to tax people to the maximum.”
[7] Gonzalez, Luke, 33. “Given those circumstances, the setting of the shepherds keeping their flocks at night is much less tranquil and romantic. They live out in the fields, suffer all kinds of deprivations and even dangers, in order to protect their flocks. But the census threatens a new danger, a wolf more dangerous than any four-legged beast, a wolf that will probably decimate their flocks, and whom they cannot fight, for it is too powerful.”
[8] Gonzalez, Luke, 34. “It is not difficult to imagine what would be the talk of such shepherds as they sought to remain awake through the night. In that sort of circumstances, people vent their anger, frustration, and fear in what is at once idle and dangerous talk—talk that does not necessarily lead to rebellion, but that in itself is subversive and the authorities will consider it rebellious and punishable.”
[9] Gonzalez, Luke, 34. “…the setting itself was one of fear and oppression.”
[10]Ernesto Cardenal, The Gospel in Solentiname, translated by Donald D. Walsh (Eugene: Wipf & Stock, 2010), 26. “Felipe: ‘The angel came to them because they were working men, and I find this is very important for us. Because they were poor little people who were working. They were watching over their sheep which is like taking care of cattle today. They were workers, laborers, poor people. The angel of God could have gone to the king’s palace and said them: “The Savior has been born.” But the angel didn’t go where the king was but where the poor people were, which means that this message is not for the big shots but for the poor little guys, which means the. oppressed, which means us.”
[11] Gonzalez, Luke, 34. “One of the ways in which the ‘little people’ manage to survive under oppressive regimes is not to call attention to themselves. …Now these shepherds are literally in the limelight, and an obviously powerful personage confronts them.”
[12] Cardenal, Solentiname, 26. “I: ‘It was really the shepherds who were at the bottom of the social scale in Israel…’”
[13] Gonzalez, Luke, 34. “It is in that scene, perhaps silent, but not as peaceful as we tend to depict it, that an angel suddenly appears before the shepherds and they are terrified. Their fear is not surprising…Suddenly there is a bright light, and an unknown person stands before them. It is not surprising that they would be terrified.”
[14] Gonzalez, Luke, 35-36. “The good news that the angel announces is the birth of a child, ‘a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord.’ This is the only text in the entire New Testament where these three titles appear together. The title ‘Savior’ (sōtēr) was employed in the Septuagint….to refer both to God and to those whom God sends to liberate Israel. In the Hebrew Scriptures, the function of such liberators is neither purely religious nor purely political. Actually, this is a distinction that people in ancient times would find difficult to understand…The ‘saviors’ in the Hebrew Scriptures liberate Israel from its political oppressors so that the people may be free to serve and obey God…The child who has been born will free the people form bondage—bondage both to their sins and to their oppressors.”
[15] Cardenal, Solentiname, 28. “I: ‘….At this very moment you are receiving the same news from the angel that the shepherds received.’”
Psalm 127:1-2 Unless Abba God builds the house, their labor is in vain who build it. Unless Abba God watches over the city, in vain the watcher keeps their vigil.
Introduction
We’re marching forward here in the gospel of Mark and learning, in every which way, what it looks like to be a disciple of Christ. And while I’ve stressed (because Mark has stressed) that it’s hard and can be (very) uncomfortable, the actual point is that following Christ, being a disciple of Jesus, is really and simply about being human…fully, and totally, materially and spiritually, from the inniest parts of our souls to the outiest surfaces of our body. For Mark’s Jesus, being fully and totally human requires a few things, full dependence on God through faith in Christ by the power of the indwelling divine Spirit. It’s this triune foundation that nourishes us in the amniotic fluid of divine love, bears us into the world swaddled in divine love, and continues to grow us toward divine love that is faith making itself known in the world through acts of love for God’s beloved. As the psalm tells us this morning: “Unless Abba God builds the house, their labor is in vain who build it. Unless Abba God watches over the city, in vain the watcher keeps their vigil.”
In other words, when left to our own devices and to our own cleverness we create kingdoms and orders that remove us from not only God but from our own humanity. It is not some evil force that makes even well-intentioned systems and structures inhuman, it’s our own doing. We create hierarchies, in groups and out groups, uses and thems; we determine who is worth saving and who isn’t; we fabricate narratives elevating some above others because of wealth, skin, gender and sex, religion, age, abledness… We do this. And Jesus came, according to Mark, to expose these tendencies of the inhabitants of the kingdom of humanity and to usher them into the reign of God as citizens who make a difference in the world just by being willing to be utterly and completely human by loving (in word and deed) those whom God loves. By faith in Christ and by the power of the Holy Spirit, disciples of Christ become those human beings—fully dependent on God—who see through elaborate presentations of power and prestige and dare to imagine another way, a better way, a more human way defined by the reign of God and to the wellbeing of the neighbor.
Mark 12:38-44
And then [Jesus] was saying in his teaching, “You perceive from the scribes, those who desire to walk around in the apparel of the elite and [be] greeted deferentially in the places of assembly and [desire] the most honorable seat in the synagogue and the chief place at the table at dinner, the ones who take material advantage of the households of widows and for pretexts pray for a long time; they, they will receive a greater judgment…” (Mk. 12:38-40)
Apart from what we experienced last week between Jesus and the scribe who “got it,” we are back with Jesus’s continual denunciation of self-aggrandized power run amok.[1] Literally. Jesus has zero tolerance for these scribes[2] and exposes their “general character” manifesting as “ostentatious, exploitative, and hypocritical”.[3] Jesus proposes to his disciples, in this passage, another way of being (and leading) in the world, a way he, Jesus, the Son of God and of Humanity, will take which is the way he expects his disciples[4] to take, too.[5]
If you thought that the politics of Jesus emphasized being nice and tolerant, this passage blows that notion to smithereens; Jesus is thoroughly polemical[6] right now, and that’s why he broad brushed an entire group of Jewish authority[7] when he says: You perceive from the scribes those who desire…. The “you perceive” is a command, meaning YOU look….LOOK! And the “those who desire” modifies the scribes as those who have the ambition to abuse their power and to exploit the people. In other words, Jesus is saying, Look, LOOK!, look at how the scribes not only exploit the people but that they desire to do it… They desire[8] the glory their fancy/celebratory robes[9] bring them, the deferential greetings[10] their rank demands from those who are inferior, the best seats, and to siphon the livelihood from widows through being paid for their long prayers.[11] And when it comes to leaders who opt for arrogant self-involvement at the expense of God’s people—especially the weak and least of these in society like widows[12]—God takes massive issue and divine judgment comes…not for the people so deceived and duped, but for those in authority who capitalized on and benefited from such deception. This is quite literally what the major and minor prophets are all about, and this is why Jesus then says, they, they will receive a greater (divine[13]) judgment!
Then, according to the text, Mark tells us, And then after sitting down opposite the treasury he was looking at how the crowd is throwing money into the treasury. And many wealthy people were throwing in much. And then a poor widow came and threw in two of the smallest amounts of money[14] (which is a quadrans). This scene is jarring, it doesn’t seem to fit with what has just come before. Or is it? Seems there’s some ostentatious public[15] demonstrations of the rich throwing large sums of money[16] into the various thirteen “trumpet chests” [17]. It’s here where there’s an overlap: Jesus, again, has zero tolerance for ostentation and zero tolerance for exploitation. Thus, it’s not so much an attack on the rich per se but on the desire to show off how much one can and is giving thus drawing attention to oneself (like the Scribes in the marketplaces in their robes).[18] In this way, it can also be (potentially) an attack on institutions that allow the exploitation and extortion of widows their business for their own benefit—donations for the poor were done elsewhere apart from these trumpet chests.[19]
Jesus, in response to witnessing the widow’s offering, according to Mark, says, Truly I say to you—so take notice—that the poor widow threw much more into the treasury than all others; for all others threw in out of that which abounds, but she threw in out of her poverty all she was having, her entire livelihood. We’ve often made this offering a type of virtue even to the extent that some churches have suggested that you must give all you have to prove your faithfulness. It is possible that Jesus is glorifying her self-sacrifice and even honoring her heartfelt gift. It could be, too, that Jesus is placing a certain amount of emphasis on the reality that this widow just gave to the temple the means of her next meal when it may have been better for her to eat and live another day.[20] It is possible that Jesus is calling out the narrative justifying stealing from such people their very livelihood.[21] Thus, like the scribes, the human religious authority, consumed by the ideologies of the kingdom of humanity, have turned the temple into a money making institution, granting more and more power and privilege to the themselves (thus the cycle repeats from the beginning).
Conclusion
What do we take away from this? It is not to give all you have, though, during pledge month…give what you can! But more importantly, the point of this passage for us, today, is that humility carries way more currency in the economy of the reign of God than self-aggrandizement. This isn’t about not tooting your horn once in a while because you did something great or something great happened—you need not resort to just saying, “It’s all Jesus!”, Jesus wants you to receive the credit, too! This is about how we participate in systems and institutions that are prone to extorting and taking advantage of the least of these (and some of these least of these includes you). It’s about our faith in Christ and the power of the Holy Spirit, that we, as disciples of Christ, become human beings—fully dependent on God—who see through elaborate presentations of power and prestige and dare to imagine another way, a better way, a more human way defined by the reign of God and to the wellbeing of the neighbor. We are to be truly and fully human in a world demanding to grow ever more inhuman.
[1] R. T. France, The Gospel of Mark: A Commentary on the Greek Text, NIGTC, eds. I. Howard Marshall and Donald A. Hagner (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2002), 489. “Apart from vv. 28-34, it is true, all the scribes we have met in this gospel have been critics, if not openly enemies, of Jesus, and here in Jerusalem their hostility has come to a head as Jesus had predicted…But there is no comparable denunciation of the priests or elders.”
[2] France, Mark, 491. “In that case the subjects of these participles are not a new group, or even a subgroup of the scribes, but must still be the scribes in general.”
[4] France, Mark, 490. “These remarks, too, are addressed specifically to the disciples….and do not form part of the public denunciation of the scribes. Jesus again calls those who follow him to abandon the world’s conventions of importance: the first are to be last and the last first.”
[5] France, Mark, 489. “But the warning here is not related to what they. May have in mind to do to Jesus, but to their general character as ostentatious, exploitative, and hypocritical…In this context the effect is to offer the crowd a choice as to the sort of leader they will follow, and Jesus pulls no punches in exposing the shortcomings of scribes in general.”
[6] France, Mark, 490. “What is now recorded, however, is not so much teaching as polemic.”
[7] France, Mark, 489. “…this is polemics in the context of a highly charged and potentially fatal confrontation, and a suitably broad brush is applied.”
[8] William C. Placher, Mark, Belief: A Theological Commentary on the Bible, eds Amy Plantinga Pauw and William C. Placher. (Louisville: WJK, 2010), 181. “Beware of those who hold the chief seats, Augustine writes, ‘Not because they hold them, but because they love them.’ Those who are condemned put on a good appearance of piety praying long prayers, but what they seek is honor and wealth.”
[9] France, Mark, 490. “a στολή is not an everyday garment, but a festive or celebratory robe…and suggests ‘dressing up’.”
[10] France, Mark, 490. “Deferential ἀσπασμοί are a mark of social standing…”
[11] France, Mark, 492. “…προφάσει would naturally describe the fraudulent means by which it is achieved. In that case the reference cold be to the sort of payment for the prayers of a religious professional which became common in mediaeval Christianity.”
[12] France, Mark, 491. “The vulnerability of widows is a recurrent theme in biblical literature, so that to defraud them is particularly despicable.”
[13] France, Mark, 492. Κρίμα a reference to “….God’s eschatological judgment, of which Jesus has spoken so vividly…”
[14] France, Mark, 493. “The λεπτόν was the smallest denomination of currency in use, a copper coin less than a centimetre in diameter and worth less than one hundredth of a denarius (which was itself half the value of the half-shekel temple tax).”
[15] France, Mark, 489. “The scene is in the Court of the Women, so-called not because it was a specifically for women but because it was the nearest point to the temple building proper which was open to women. Here stood a range of thirteen ‘trumpet chests’…designed to receive monetary offerings, including not only the half-shekel temple tax but also ‘freewill offerings’. The half-shekel was obligatory for men, but any contribution to the other chests was voluntary, and would be noticed by anyone who, like Jesus and his disciples, was watching…perhaps it was a recognised tourist attraction.”
[16] France, Mark, 492. “χαλκός is strictly ‘copper’ or ‘bronze’, and the widow’s two coins would be of copper.” And, “But the large sums donated by the rich would presumably be in silver or gold coins… so that χαλκός is here used in its more general sense of ‘money’.”
[17] France, Mark, 492. “γαζοφυλάκον…its reference here to the collecting chests in the Court of the Women is demanded by the context…”
[18] France, Mark, 489-490. “Jesus’ comment on the widow’s offering is not an attack on wealth or the wealthy as such, but rather on the scale of values which takes more account of the amount of a gift than of the dedication of the giver. It develops further the new perspective of the kingdom of God which Jesus has been so assiduously teaching his disciples on the way to Jerusalem specially his comments responding to their astonishment at his treatment of the rich man in 10:23-27.”
[19] France, Mark, 493. “All contributions were therefore for the work of the temple; charitable donations for the poor were made separately.”
[20] France, Mark, 493. “While Jesus was not averse to exaggeration to make a point, it is quite possible that in first-century Palestine the donation of two [copper coins] would have left a poor widow without the means for her next meal.”
[21] Placher, Mark, 182. Alt reading: the widow mistakenly gives into a system that is bleeding her dry “Jesus lamented the widow’s contribution”
Psalm 146:4, 6 Happy are they who have the God of Jacob for their help! whose hope is in Abba God…Who gives justice to those who are oppressed, and food to those who hunger.
Introduction
If we’ve learned anything from the gospel of Mark it’s that being a disciple of Christ isn’t easy and comfortable, it demands reconsideration of things familiar and comfortable, it conflicts with the way the world works and the kingdom of humanity operates, it can rupture relationships, it will force you into an inner crisis of identity. What we’ve gleaned from Mark’s Jesus about what it means to follow him clashes with common notions that being a Christian means worldly prosperity, power, popularity, and privilege (often defined by the kingdom of humanity); it clashes with the idea that being a Christian means being nice and happy; it clashes with the idea that being a Christians means allegiance to a flag or nation; it clashes with the idea that being a Christian means doing one set of things on Sunday and spending Monday through Saturday doing whatever you want.
To follow Christ as one of the disciples—those baptized and partaking of the cup—is to render one’s whole life in service to the mission of God’s revolution of love, life, and liberation in the world for the wellbeing of God’s beloved (you, me, us, and especially all who suffer and are heavy laden outside of these walls). There isn’t one part of us that isn’t claimed by the Spirit of God that descended on Pentecost and now lives in us, yoking us to God by and through our faith in Christ. Mark’s Jesus takes very seriously that you are the fragile, breakable vessel of God, working through you as the epicenter of divine judgment and justice—condemning that which promotes death, indifference, and captivity and exalting that which nourishes, life, love, and liberation. This is the demand on the faithful disciple of Christ (then and now); it is the pursuit of divine love that lets them know we are Christians of the reign of God. Nothing else qualifies but to love God and love those whom God loves.
Mark 12:28-34
And then the scribe said to him, “Well said, teacher! You spoke on the basis of the truth that God is one and there is not another except this one. And to love God out of the whole heart and out of the whole intellect and out of the whole strength and to love the neighbor as oneself is greater than all of the whole burnt offerings and sacrifices.”[1]
This entire discussion is rather banal.[2] Since there are (about) 613 mitzvot (separate commands) within Genesis to Deuteronomy, discussions about which commandments were seen “as more essential” and even debates about which ones were “light” and “heavy” happened regularly among the local scholarly network (Pharisees, Scribes, and Sadducees, etc.).[3] Even a “summary” of the law—some idea that ties up the Torah—was expected.[4] Thus, Jesus’s summary fits in with other Jewish summaries of the law (causing absolutely no surprise) and is extended to include the prophets.[5] The only thing that is interesting (and considered unprecedented) is that Jesus links two well-known first testament texts: Deuteronomy 6:4-5 and Leviticus 19:18.[6]
So, why include this story in the gospel and in our lectionary? Because the most central feature of a Christian’s life of faithful discipleship is love. Fullstop. Love God and love your neighbor. Jesus answered, “The first is, ‘Hear O Israel, the Lord your God the Lord is one, and you will love the Lord God from your whole heart, and from your whole soul and from your whole intellect and from your whole strength.’ The second [is] this, ‘You will love your neighbor as yourself.’” The entirety of the Christian life is defined by love that is born by the reign of God and made known in the kingdom of humanity (vertical and horizontal, divine and human, spiritual and material). Not only is the disciple exhorted to love God with their whole self, but they are also to love the neighbor (whoever and wherever they are[7]) in the same way; this is the way for the disciple of Christ. To prove this point and to drive it home, Jesus adds, There is no other command greater than these. Here things get a bit more interesting. Jesus has, first, not given one command but two when the scribe asked for what command is first of all? And, second, Jesus created a hierarchy between the love of God and the love of neighbor and the other commandments. According to Mark’s Jesus, there is a preferred way,[8] subjecting all other commands to these two.
The scribe’s response—“Well said, teacher!You spoke on the basis of the truth that God is one and there is not another except this one. And to love God out of the whole heart and out of the whole intellect and out of the whole strength and to love the neighbor as oneself is greater than all of the whole burnt offerings and sacrifices”—reveals two things. The first is implicit, the scribe gets something that the disciples are still trying to ascertain and understand[9] and the other scribes (and Pharisees and Sadducees) refuse to get.[10] The scribe affirms the fact that Jesus’s words are founded on truth thus revealing his own inherent disposition toward Jesus and also Jesus’s mission in the world (thus why Jesus can say to him later, “You are not far from the reign of God.”; #notallscribes[11]).[12]
The second is explicit, there is nothing within religiosity and religious traditionalism that rival these two commands. Nothing—no ritual, no tradition, no pilgrimage, no vigil, no quiet time, no eucharistic celebration, etc.—absolutely nothing is more important to the Christian life in the world before God and among the neighbor than love, love, love. Everything else is not only subverted[13] to these two commands to love God fully and completely and to love the neighbor as one loves themselves but should be viewed in support of this demand for love in two directions, vertically and horizontally. Thus, for Mark’s Jesus and this humble scribe, to love God is to love the neighbor and to love the neighbor is to love God. [14] What is essentially and primarily ruled out here is any conception of a privatized relationship between one person and God as if that’s all that matters. A disciple of Christ cannot love God and ignore their neighbor because to ignore their neighbor is to ignore God. You don’t get the option to do half of the chief commandment; it’s either both or its nothing.
Conclusion
If you’ve ever wondered what God’s will is for your life as a disciple of Christ by the power of the Holy Spirit, wonder no more. The entirety of your life is summoned into a robust and vigorous relationship fueled, inspired, and sustained by God’s love for the cosmos. We love because we have first been loved; we love our neighbor because God loves us, and we love God and thus love what God loves. To love God with our whole selves is a definitive mark of a disciple of Christ because it manifests as loving our neighbor as if we are loving ourselves the way God loves us (and loves our neighbor). Thus they truly will know we are Christians by our love…
To go further, and to put darker lines around what it means to love God and love the neighbor, it must be stressed that to love God is best expressed not only in devotion through prayer, worship, and glorifying, but specifically expressed in loving that which and those whom God loves. This means loving God’s justice—God’s mission of life, love, and liberation[15]—that seeks to right the wrongs created and promoted by the kingdom of humanity. Thus, to quote Felipe from Ernesto Cardenal’s The Gospel in Solentiname, “‘To love your neighbor then is to love God. You can’t love God without practicing justice. And you can’t love your neighbor without practicing that justice that God commands.’” [16] In other words, the systems of the kingdom of humanity oriented toward injustice–those systems and ideologies oriented toward death, indifference, and captivity—are to be categorically rejected by those who claim to follow Christ by faith as his disciples by the power of the Holy Spirit.[17]
I can’t stress it enough that we are so very, very loved by a good, good God—a God who is love. This is worth celebrating. But if it never goes further and farther than that, then we will find ourselves distant from the reign of God. God’s love can’t be purchased and owned privately as if it can be just for ourselves. God’s love is always on the move, always seeking the object of God’s desire: God’s beloved, you, me, and more importantly, those who have been cast off and pushed to the margins by the ideologically inspired actions of the residents of the kingdom of humanity. We love because we have first been loved; we strive for justice on behalf of the neighbor, because God’s love strives for justice.
[2] Placher, Mark, 174. “Just as it is important to note that Mark portrays this scribe in a sympathetic light, so it is worth remembering that Jesus was not saying anything radically new or at odds with the Jewish tradition.”
[3] R. T. France, The Gospel of Mark: A Commentary on the Greek Text, NIGTC, eds. I. Howard Marshall and Donald A. Hagner (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2002), 477. “Given that there are, according to scribal reckoning 613 separate commandments in the five Books of Moses…the question of priority could not be avoided. The rabbis discussed which commandments were ‘heavy’ and which ‘light’, and sometimes ranked certain categories of law as more essential than others.”
[4] France, Mark, 477. “There was a natural desire for a convenient summary of the law’s requirements, a single principle form which all the rest of the Torah was derived…”
[6] France, Mark, 477-478. “But for his explicit linking together of these two very familiar OT texts [Lv. 19:18 and Dt. 6:4-5] we have no Jewish precedent.”
[7] Placher, Mark, 174. “Further, we should love our neighbors, and there should be no limits on who counts as a neighbor.”
[8] France, Mark, 478. The “evaluative language is not typical of the rabbis, who spoke of ‘light’ and ‘heavy’ commandments, but on the understanding that all are equally valid, and who, while they might look for summarizing principles, do not seem to have ranked individual commandments as ‘first’ or ‘more important.’”
[9] France, Mark, 482. “In Mark’s previous mentions of the kingdom of God we have repeatedly noted a contrast between the divine and human perspective, and a sense of surprise, even of shock, as the unfamiliar values of God’s kingship are recognised. It is a secret given only to those who follow Jesus and hear his teaching (4.11). But here is a man who Is already a good part of the way through the readjustment of values which the kingdom of God demands and which the disciples have been so painfully confronting on the way to Jerusalem.”
[11] William C. Placher, Mark, Belief: A Theological Commentary on the Bible, eds Amy Plantinga Pauw and William C. Placher. (Louisville: WJK, 2010), 173. “The question is sincere, the scribe’s response to Jesus is wise, and Jesus tells him, ‘You are not far from the kingdom of God.’ Mark….goes out of his way to indicate that not all Jewish scholars where corrupt or were Jesus’ opponents.”
[12] France, Mark, 482. “…the scribe’s reply has assured Jesus that his mind is well attuned to the divine perspective. This place him οὐ μακρὰν ἀπὸ τῆς βασιλείας τοῦ θεοῦ, not yet a part of it apparently, but unlike the rich who will find it so hard to enter the kingdom of God…this man is a promising potential recruit.”
[13] Cardenal, Solentiname, 530. “I: ‘But here he’s not talking only about false rites but true rites. He says that love is worth more than all religious rites.’”
[14] Cardenal, Solentiname, 529. “You can say, then, that those that obey the second, it’s as if they’re obeying the first. Those who don’t love God, for example, because they don’t believe in God, but love their neighbor, according to Christ it’s as if they’re obeying the first commandment.”
[15]Ernesto Cardenal, The Gospel in Solentiname, translated by Donald D. Walsh (Eugene: Wipf & Stock, 2010), 528. “So to love [God] is to love liberation and justice and that’ s the same things as to love your neighbor. To love God, then, is to love love. And therefore it’s logical that the second commandment should be very similar to the first one.”
[17] Placher, Mark, 175. Verses leading up to the Leviticus quotation should be considered in defining ethical action of love toward the neighbor, “Maximizing profit at all costs and cutting corners are contrary to love of neighbor.”
Psalm 104:1, 25: Bless Abba God, O my soul; O my God, how excellent is your greatness! You are clothed with majesty and splendor. O Abba God, how manifold are your works! In wisdom you have made them all; the earth is full of your creatures.
Introduction
The clear and overarching question for Mark and Mark’s audience: “What does it mean to be a disciple of this man who is God, Jesus the Christ?” As we make our way through the Gospel of Mark, we see Mark’s proposed answer to this question encompasses more and more of the disciple’s lives. If the disciples thought it was about following this teacher and being taught some cool things about God, they needed to think again. Jesus has been redefining their lives from the heart outward; to drop their nets and follow Jesus means to take on a deep and abiding similarity (inside and out) to this man who is the Son of God and the Son of Humanity. Moment by moment, Mark’s Jesus is molding and shaping, preparing and forming his disciples (in mind and body) to be as him—Jesus the Christ—in the world when he leaves them so that God’s revolutionary mission of love, life, and liberation continues from one generation to the next, from one nation to the next, from one person to the next.
The most stressed aspect of discipleship in Mark’s gospel is that the disciples cannot keep/allow themselves to think according to the common sense of the kingdom of humanity. If we slow down and pay attention to what Jesus has been doing all these many weeks—since chapter 7—this focus of Jesus reveals itself as the controlling narrative for the disciples and discipleship. Time and again, Jesus takes the time and space to educate (reeducate?) these disciples who are “following the way”—Jesus’s disciples, in Mark, are always “on the way”. He goes to great lengths to teach them that (truly) they will walk, talk, act, and be different in the world. For Jesus, the reign of God cannot and will not tolerate the enmity and hostility, the division and separation, the boundaries and borders, the oppression and marginalization that thrives in the kingdom of humanity. To be Jesus’s followers, according to Mark, means to be those who are as Christ in the world, who drink from the cup that he drinks and are baptized with his baptism.
Mark 10:35-45
And then Jesus called to himself the Twelve and says to them, “You have known that the ones who seem to rule the Gentiles over power them and their great-ones exercise authority over them. But it is not like this among you. Rather, they who wish to become great among you will be your servant; and they who wish to be first, will be slave of all people. For the Son of Humanity came not to be served but to serve and to give his self [as a] ransom on behalf of many people.” (Mk. 10:42-45)[1]
Chapter 10 of Mark’s gospel brings us closer to Jesus’s death; time is running out, and the disciples still need to learn what it means to be of the of the earth and in God.[2] Remember that Mark’s gospel is written with speed, it sounds fast. Mark peppers his text with the introductory “καί”, “And then…” It gives the reader/listener the impression of time sensitivity. And our passage for this Sunday opens with another introductory “καί” that follows (another) segment of Jesus (pulling aside the Twelve and) telling them what will happen once they get to Jerusalem[3]: he, the Son of Humanity, will be handed over, tortured, killed, and (then) after three days he will rise again. And, like, immediately, the disciples reveal that they really👏just 👏don’t👏get👏it👏 None of what Jesus just said registered; they’re stuck in the thinking of the kingdom of humanity, convinced that Jesus will be entering into material glory and triumph,[4] and that they, too, will reap from those rewards.[5] They’re not entirely wrong; they will reap something but not what they are imagining.[6]
Enter James and John and another discussion about status.[7] These two, immediately, corner Jesus—pulling him away from the others—and they ask him for a very self-centered request (and they know it because of their round about approach to asking: Teacher, we wish that you might do for us whatever [if] we might ask you…). Jesus (kindly) responds, What do you wish I might do for you? And they reply, Please give to us that one might sit down of your right hand and one of [your] left hand [when you enter] into your [royal[8],[9]] glory. As bold as they were, Jesus was just as bold. You have not perceived what you ask; are you able to drink the wine cup which I, Idrink or to be baptized with the baptism which I, I am baptized?
Here, Mark infuses Jesus words with two important images for the community to whom he writes. Mark’s community is under threat of persecution (thus the rapid flow of the text: this community may not have a lot of time), and the role that baptism (Greek: submersion partly unto death[10]) and the cup of wine (of the new covenant made through Christ’s shed blood and judgment[11]) play as sacramental images reminding these disciples that, yes, they participate and live in God, and that also, yes, they are under threat for who they are (followers of Christ).[12] In and through Jesus, Mark is, essentially, pastorally comforting this community who—in their own baptisms and cup participation—have echoed James and John’s courageous and loyal,[13]We are able. But unlike James and John, Mark’s community did know what they were signing up for when they entered, by faith, the community of the followers of the way.[14]
Jesus’s reply to James and John affirms the community’s experience and reassures them that he is present with them, The wine cup which I, I drink you will drink and with the baptism which I, I am being baptized you will be baptized. But to sit down of my right and or of my left hand is not mine to give but [is] for the one for whom it is prepared. While our minds go to the two thieves on their own crosses, one on the left and one on the right of Jesus, or, according to Mark, “two rebels” (15:27), we must see the pastoral implications for Mark’s community: Jesus goes into heavenly glory through death on the cross and into the new life of resurrection identifying with those who suffer and are grieved for their well-being and safety, those who are afraid to be out in public as they are[15]—this is about identification and solidarity and not about favors and gifts bestowed by an earthly king to his loyal followers.[16] Without making suffering a virtue (because you can’t earn this place by suffering[17]) or sacrament (by which people are forced to suffer to be holy and pleasing to God), Mark is telling his community, As those who are baptized in the baptism of Jesus and those who drink of the cup of Christ, Jesus is with you and you are (yesterday, today, and tomorrow[18]) already in the warm light of his heavenly glory for it is he who has the last word of life and not your suffering even unto death.[19]
Mark isn’t finished. Apparently, the other disciples take notice of what is going on: And then after hearing, [the other disciples] began to be incensed about James and John. Why are they “incensed”[20]? Not because James and John asked for such a bold request, but that James and John beat them to the punch. [21] All the disciples are sharing the same kingdom of humanity views about status and glory. [22] We know this because Jesus immediately called them [all] to himself and determines to teach them, yet again, about the divine equity that qualifies those who live by the (very revolutionary[23]) expectations of the reign of God.[24] According to Jesus, those who follow him (those who are to be baptized with his same baptism and drink from the same cup) will not be like the tyrants and oppressors[25] of the kingdom of humanity: You have perceived, Jesus says to the disciples, that the ones who appear to rule the Gentiles overpower them and their great-ones exercise authority over them. But it is not like this among you. Rather, they who wish to become great among you will be your servant; and they who wish to be first, will be slave of all people. For the Son of Humanity came not to be served but to serve and to give his self [as a] ransom on behalf of many people.
Conclusion
The truly revolutionary aspect of the mission of God in the world just dropped on the disciples like a bomb; their minds explode.[26] What Jesus is asking them to do isn’t just to be nice to other people including those of low status, but to literally take on a radical posture of service and obligation toward others especially those low in status.[27] In other words, just as Jesus[28] identifies with the least of these and will do so until he dies, so, too, will the disciples[29] identify with those who are least. Their road is not a road of material glory but of heavenly glory defined by God’s revolutionary action in the world in Christ and by the power of the Holy Spirit. Where the kingdom of humanity says it is great to be served, to be feared, to be respected, to be rich, to be great, those of the reign of God say[30]: blessed are the poor, blessed are those who grieve, blessed are those who are reviled, blessed are the oppressed, marginalized, ostracized, outcast…because in their midst where God and God’s love is manifest in substance and action of the community bearing Christ’s name. In other words, where those who represent God in Christ are, there God is, there is divine love, life, and liberation. When the kingdom of humanity argues about greatness, the disciples of Christ—those baptized into and who drink from the wine-cup of the new covenant of the reign of God—go in the opposite direction: they love where there is indifference, liberate where there is captivity, bring life where there is death, serve those denied service, and see the power of peace of divine equity that triumphs over the security manufactured by the kingdom of humanity. In other words, the followers of Christ participate in the mission of God in the world to keep human life human[31], all the way down.
[2] William C. Placher, Mark, Belief: A Theological Commentary on the Bible, eds Amy Plantinga Pauw and William C. Placher. (Louisville: WJK, 2010), 150. In this portion of text, “Jesus is going to his fate.”
[3] R. T. France, The Gospel of Mark: A Commentary on the Greek Text, NIGTC, eds. I. Howard Marshall and Donald A. Hagner (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2002), 414. “The previous passion predications have each been followed by an example of the disciples’ failure to grasp Jesus’ new scale of values and by consequent remedial teaching.”
[4] France, Mark, 416. “As Jesus has used the title ὁ θἱος τοῦ ἀνθρώπουfor himself, his disciples have grasped its royal connotations and can envisage a time when it will be fulfilled for Jesus….and therefore also for his faithful followers.”
[5] Placher, Mark, 150. “Now, shortly before they reach Jerusalem itself, two of the disciples manifest the last and perhaps most dramatic of Mark’s many cases of disciple misunderstandings. They still think that Jesus is headed for glory and triumph, and they want the positions of greatest prominence, at his right and left hand. They have understood neither the egalitarian character of the new community nor the suffering that aways Jesus. He challenges them on both counts.”
[6] Placher, Mark, 150. “Are they ready to suffer what he will suffer?”
[7] France, Mark, 414. “The issue of status is thus yet again brought to tour attention, with James and John as the negative examples. The setting of their request, with its presumption that Jesus is on the way to ‘glory’, is remarkable, following immediately after the most ominous and detailed of Jesus’ a passion predictions.”
[8] France, Mark, 414. “To speak of sitting…on the right (or left) of someone implies royal throne with the places of highest honour on either side; there are of course only two such places, leaving no room for Peter.”
[9] France, Mark, 415. “The request, precipitated perhaps by the excitement of coming near Jerusalem, the ‘royal’ city, assumes that Jesus, as ‘king’, has positions of honour and influence in his gift.”
[10] France, Mark, 417. “…in the narrative context we must suppose that Jesus has coined a remarkable new metaphor, drawing on his disciples’ familiarity with the dramatic physical act of John’s baptism, but using it…to depict the suffering and death into which he was soon to be ‘plunged.’”
[11] France, Mark, 416. FT image of Cup can be of blessing but more often of judgment.
[12] Placher, Mark, 150. “He uses two images—to be baptized, and to drink the cup. ‘Baptized’ in Greek can also mean ‘flooded with calamities,’ and the image is of an immersion that is partway toward drowning. The cup, as Jesus will soon explain to them, is the cup of his blood. Thus the images are both symbols of sacraments and symbols of threats, and this was appropriate to the church of Mark’s time, where joining the Christian community or participating in Christian worship did risk torture and death.”
[13] France, Mark, 417. “[James and John] may lack understanding, but not loyalty or courage.”
[14] Placher, Mark, 150-151. “Do they know what they are promising? Probably not. It is a common human experience to discover we have assigned on for more than we realized or intended. Sometimes that discovery comes with panic and the need to escape, but sometimes we are grateful in retrospect for the veil that hid from us a destination we would not have had the courage for at the time.”
[15] France, Mark, 418. The “for whom” it is being prepared will not include those who are expected but the unexpected, like those of low status.
[16] France, Mark, 414. “But in the end v. 40 undermines the whole premise on which their request was based, that status in the kingdom of God can be bestowed as a favour, or even earned by loyalty and self-sacrifice.”
[17] France, Mark, 417. “…even if they fulfill the ‘conditions’ he has set down, their request still cannot be granted. The cup and the baptism thus prove not to be qualifying conditions at all, but rather a way of indicating that their whole conception of δόξα and of the way it is to be achieved is misguided.”
[18] France, Mark, 416. “For Jesus the route to glory is clear; it is by way of the ποτήριον and the βάπτισμα which await him…and anyone who wishes to share the glory must first also share those experiences.”
[20] Placher, Mark, 151. “The others among the Twelve hear that James and John have been lobbying for privileged positions, and they are angry. Again, Jesus explains the nature of the new community he is creating.”
[21] France, Mark, 418. “…their annoyance is not over the ambition of the two brothers as such, but over the fact that they have got in first and tried to gain an unfair advantage over their colleagues in the competition for the highest places. On this issue they are all equally at fault.”
[22] France, Mark, 414. “…moreover, the other disciples seem to share [James and John’s] perspective, and Jesus responds with the most thoroughgoing statement yet of the revolutionary values of the Kingdom of God.”
[23] France, Mark, 415. “…v. 43a now offers a further ‘slogan’ which encapsulates the revolutionary effect of his teaching about the kingdom of God…”
[24] France, Mark, 414. “The second section (vv. 41-45) picks up the theme of 9:35 and again subverts the whole notion of leadership and importance which human society takes for granted.”
[25] France, Mark, 419. v. 42 kata terms, “…convey the oppressive and uncontrolled exploitation of power, the flaunting of authority rather than its benevolent exercise.”
[26] France, Mark, 415. “The ‘natural’ assumptions and valuations by which people operate no longer apply in the kingdom of God. it is a genuinely alternative society.”
[27] France, Mark, 419. v. 43a “…sums up the revolutionary ethics of the kingdom of God. the natural expectations of society are reversed, and leadership is characterized by service, by being under the authority of others, like a διάκονος or δοῦλος. Nor is this just a matter of recognising a higher rank within a recognizes hierarchy: it is to everyone…that precedence must be given.”
[28] France, Mark, 419. Son of humanity in v. 45 “…provides the supreme model of status reversal in that he whose destiny it was διακονηθῆναι…was instead to become πάντων διἀκονος.”
[29] France, Mark, 419. “[διακονέω] does not denote a particular role, but rather the paradoxically subordinate status of the one who should have enjoyed the service of others. The following καὶ δοῦναι does not so much specify the form of service, but rather adds a further and yet more shocking example of this self-sacrificing attitude which he in turn enjoins on his followers.”
[30] France, Mark, 421. “It is not the λύτρον ἀντὶ πολλῶν that they are expected to reproduce: that was Jesus’ unique mission. But the spirit of service and self-sacrifice, the priority given to the needs of the πολλοί, are for all disciples. They, too, must serve rather than be served, and it may be that some of them will be called upon, like James and John, to give up their lives. There is no room for quarrels about τίς μείζων.”
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