An Appeal to Heaven

If you read any old books, and by old here I mean anything from roughly 600 AD to 1900 AD, one of the things you realize is that all the authors – even the ones not known for their orthodoxy – know their scriptures. And they appeal or allude to those scriptures in nuanced ways. Ways that we either miss completely, or might even say “nah, that can’t be the allusion.” I was thinking about that while reflecting on the Old Testament reading for today – Ezekiel 17:22-24 – and the recent flag absurdity.

If you are blessedly unaware of that absurdity, Mrs. Alito, wife of the Supreme Court justice, likes to fly flags. One of the flags she has flown was the Revolutionary War era “Appeal to Heaven” flag (pasted in somewhere near here.) It was commissioned by George Washington for the small six boat Continental Navy. The pine tree was a symbol of New England – Pines being quite common. The phrase, “An Appeal to Heaven,” is a reference to John Locke. Locke was the English enlightenment philosopher whose thought probably did more to inspire early America and its governance than anybody else. Maybe even more than the Bible, although that could be argued. In this case Locke argued in his Second Treatise on Civil Government, “where the Body of the People, or any single Man, is deprived of their Right, or is under the Exercise of a power without right, and have no Appeal on Earth, there they have a liberty to appeal to Heaven, whenever they judge the Cause of sufficient moment.” In that quote you can hear such later American phrases as “endowed by their creator with certain inalienable rights.” There is also the foundational American idea of the Social Compact, think the Mayflower Compact. The governments are established to ensure rights. If those governments deprive citizens of rights, they have broken the compact, and there is a right to “an appeal to heaven” or revolution.

That is all hardcore enlightenment. But Washington paired the sentiment with the image of the tree. Washington liked Biblical tree images. And they all liked the Old Testament better than the new. (They all thought they were the new Israel. In Lincoln’s phrase, “a semi-chosen people”.) Washington would leave the Presidency quoting Micah 4:4, “they shall sit every man under his vine and under his fig tree, and no one shall make them afraid, for the mouth of the Lord of hosts has spoken.” It was his turn to sit under his; His work was complete. But long before that work was complete, before he even knew if it would be successful, he tied the enlightenment thinking of an appeal to heaven to a lone tree.

God says in Ezekiel 17, “I myself will take a sprig from the lofty top of the cedar and will set it out…I myself will plant it on a high and lofty mountain…and under it will dwell every kind of bird…and all the trees of the field shall know that I am the Lord. I bring low the high tree, and make high the low tree…I have spoken, and I will do it.” I don’t think it is a mighty leap for someone committing treason if it fails, who could easily consider himself a clipping off the top of the mighty British Empire, as making an appeal to heaven for the LORD to lift them up. For the LORD to create a place for every kind of bird under this new order being brought forth.

Washington never fails to tear me up. The greatest man history ever produced. And as an enlightenment amalgam it isn’t a bad vision. And I almost daily give thanks for being one of Washington’s “distant posterity.” But the sprig is not from any earthly empire. He is from the remains of Israel. And the high and lofty mountain is not a glorious capitol, not even the Acropolis or Mt. Zion, but Mt. Calvary. Our Appeal to Heaven – the eternal appeal to Heaven – free us from our sin wrought chains was answered. The rebellion against Satan, the World and our own flesh not only was started, but was successful. And under Christ’s branches, every kind may dwell and produce fruit and become noble.

The LORD promised he would do this. The LORD keeps his promises.

Courage and Duty

On the American Calendar June 6^th was D-Day and there were plenty of appropriate recognitions of the 80^th anniversary of that day. I read that the last of the Medal of Honor winners passed. Not many years and it will be that last of the veterans of that war. But on the Church calendar June 5^th was a celebration of another guy who must have had the same courage as those who stormed the beaches. Years later, after the eyewitness are gone, it becomes harder to believe in such acts of bravery. The cynics voice shows up and starts wondering which parts are real and which parts are hagiographic myth. And the story of Boniface of Mainz, Missionary to the Germans fits that. It also reminds us just how strange the path of the Gospel to the ends of the earth is.

Boniface was born in England, well, not really England, because England didn’t exist yet. He was born in Wessex around 675 AD. And in an often repeating story the young man, contrary to his Father’s wishes, became a monk. When he was roughly 35, about the same age that Luther nails the 95 Theses – old enough to know better, but still too young to care – Boniface sets out with another monk named Willibrord to Frisia, which is far Northern German near the border with the Netherlands. The mission to Frisia was not a success and they returned home. Boniface then goes to Rome, and while in Rome the Pope creates a new diocese, Germania, and appoints Boniface the bishop.

Now these were the days where Bishops might never even see their own diocese. But Boniface does the unthinkable, He strikes out to his diocese. Not Frisia, not yet, but to Hesse, which is Mainz and Frankfurt today. And this is the place of the great Boniface story – felling the Donar Oak or Thor’s Oak, the sacred symbol and worship space of the local pagans. Boniface took a hatchet to the ancient oak. He used its wood to build his first church. The region heard the story, was amazed that Thor did nothing to the short monk, and apparently converted in mass. Boniface had a real diocese now; one that he served faithfully for over 30 years turning oak groves into churches, monasteries and schools.

But at the age of 79 Boniface remembered Frisia and set off on one last missionary trip. He had baptized many and had left their instruction in various of his fellow’s hands as he went on about the region. Boniface scheduled a larger meeting of all those baptized to be confirmed at a central location. But when he arrived, he encountered not his converts, but a bandit mob looking for the treasures of the great Archbishop. Some of his band wanted to fight, but Boniface refused quoting St. Paul, “be not overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.” The great relic of Boniface – which can still be seen today in Mainz – is a book that was his only defense marked with a sword. The mob found nothing but the word that Boniface had preached.

Pondering the story of Boniface, one repeatedly sees the bedrock of courage and the performance of duty. But that courage and duty take what might be seen as polar opposite expressions. Early, the aggressive chopping down of Thor’s Oak. The removal of the symbol of the current idols. Late, the acceptance of the only defense being the Word of God and the acceptance of martyrdom. Courage and duty are not wrote things. When the appointed time comes, the actions they take might be different. But the prayer might be that either by our actions or our submission, we might display the courage of the faith and so give witness to the hope that lives in us.

Jars of Clay

One of the most powerful images in the entire bible is Paul’s in our Epistle reading from 2 Corinthians 4:7 – “we have this treasure in Jars of Clay.” It so perfectly captures the now and not yet existence of this world. We now have this treasure, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection, life eternal. We have it. It is all ours in Christ. Yet we have it in jars of clay. Something that can be broken tomorrow, even accidentally. Something that was made for a common purpose. Something that was not made to last. The eternal in the temporal. The majestic in the common. The divine in the human.

And Paul continues to bring out the reality of this treasure being in jars of clay. “We are afflicted in every way.” The treasure that we have does not spare us from suffering. It does not spare us from having enemies or facing persecution. Neither does it spare us from everyday indignities. Everything that is fallen humanity’s is ours. Everything except the final blow. “We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed.” We have this treasure. Whatever the world might do to the clay jar, the treasure remains. And if they break the jar, the fragrance spreads out revealing the eternity of Christ in us. Even ground to dust, we shall be called back on that last day. For we are not crushed.

“Perplexed.” If you run across anyone who says they’ve got it all figured out, run, fast. The faith is always encountering things that just don’t seem right. The ways of God are not our ways. The desires of God are not always obvious. The sufferings of His people, if they didn’t perplex you, would be more troublesome. Even the Apostle Paul can be perplexed. “What about my brothers according to the flesh (Romans 9)?” And if you understand his conclusion to that with complete clarity, please tell me. The one thing I can tell you is that Paul does not despair. “Perplexed, but not driven to despair.” Somehow, all Israel will be saved. “Oh the depths and riches and wisdom and knowledge of God (Romans 11:33).” Perplexed, not driven to despair.

“Persecuted, but not forsaken. Stuck down, but not destroyed.” It is so easy to give up. Clay is fragile. What it is carrying is more than it was meant to carry. But Christ is with us. He walked the road first and has not left us. And not even Satan has a weapon that can destroy us. We can only destroy ourselves by dumping the treasure of filling ourselves with his lies.

“Carrying around the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may be manifested in our bodies.” God works by death and resurrection. He is the God of creation and recreation. What he once made good, which has fallen, will be restored in perfection. Now we carry our cross. Not yet, but soon, the groaning of this world shall cease and the Sons of God shall be revealed, made manifest. Made plain. The treasure no longer carried in jars of clay, but the life of Jesus manifested in our bodies. That resurrection body that nothing common to this world may trouble.

We are jars of clay, but we also have the treasure. You don’t get to forget either. So that all the glory belongs to God. A God who finds the broken and common and bid us move up to a heavenly seat.

Sound Words

Follow the pattern of the sound words that you have heard from me, in the faith and love that are in Christ Jesus. By the Holy Spirit who dwells within us, guard the good deposit entrusted to you. – 2 Tim. 1:13-14

The Lutheran Church – Missouri Synod might be the only church that still follows the Trinity Sunday practice of reciting the Athanasian Creed. I’ve never run across it anywhere else and a good number of ministers outside of the LCMS I’ve mentioned it to have never heard of the creed itself. Part of my fascination was simply the language. As a geeky kid, once a year saying something like “the Father infinite, the Son infinite and the Holy Spirit infinite” was an impossible invitation to mystery. I imagine every kid who ever liked math and ran across the Athanasian creed was invited to ponder the infinite. And how I can give you a perfectly valid proof that is completely understandable in simple language that one infinity is bigger than another infinity. (Observe that the numbers 1, 2, 3… and so on are infinite. Observe that 1.1, 1.2, 1.3…and so on are also infinite. The 2^nd infinity is bigger than the first. And you can intuitively grasp that. But what the hell does it mean that one infinity is bigger than another infinity?) “And yet there are not three infinities, but one infinite.” There are three infinite persons, but there is only one infinite God.

It is not meant to be understood. If we could understand it, it wouldn’t be God. He is meant to be adored.

And yet in our hearts we have a desire for understanding. The apostle Paul certainly understood that. “That I may know Him, and the power of His resurrection, and may share in his sufferings…(Philippians 3:10).” It is this tension that makes Paul’s letters still sing today. Whatever he was facing he was constantly searching for a way to describe what God is and what he is doing for His people. The way of Love: “I will show you a still more excellent way. If I speak in tongues of men and of angles, buy have not love…(1 Cor 13).” The mystery of God’s election and Israel: “For God has consigned all to disobedience, that he may have mercy on all. Oh the depths of the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God…(Romans 11:32-33).” The way of a man and a woman: “This mystery is profound, and I am saying that it refers to Christ and the Church…(Ephesians 5:32).” As Paul more or less rightly bragged, “if anyone has reason to boast, I have more (2 Cor 11, Phil 3).” Yet Paul reaching to know God, always returned to adoration. All theology ends in doxology. He is meant to be adored.

So what we have in the creeds, and I would say especially in the Athanasian Creed, is a sound pattern of words. And in a religion where one infinite person of the Trinity is sometimes called “The Word of God,” words are important. There is a reason Satan is always changing the definitions of words, attempting to confuse things that God made plain. The creeds are a sound pattern of words. When Satan, the World or our own flesh want to pull some tricky business with us, the creeds are a light in a dark place. When our brains are tired of thinking, the creeds guard the good deposit given to us. They are not The Faith. They are not the love in Christ Jesus. They are not even the Holy Spirit that dwells within. These things – faith, love, Spirit – are more important. But faith, love and even the Spirit express themselves in words. And these are a pattern of sound words.

When our own words fail us, the Scriptures promise that the Spirit intercedes. Think of the creeds as part of that intercession. A pattern of sound words leading us back to adoration. A theology in short, so that we can sing the doxology. Praise God from whom all blessing flow. Including words…like “this is the catholic faith.”

Sin, Righteousness and Judgement

And when He comes, he will convict the world concerning sin and righteousness and judgement. – John 16:8

Sometimes there are phrases that just jump off the page and grab the imagination. I think the one above is one of those phrases. Today is the Feast of Pentecost, the outpouring of the Holy Spirit upon the church. And that phrase is what Jesus says the Holy Spirit will accomplish. In a world where standards seem to be up for grabs the idea of the Holy Spirit convicting the world about anything seems doubtful. Convicting this world concerning sin and righteousness and judgement is quite the boast. It is worth pondering those three words and two others in that phrase – convict and world. What do they mean?

We think of convict purely in a negative legal sense – convicted. The word used here does have that meaning, but it might be better to remember an older sense of a trial. The purpose of a trial is to bring to light, to force what was hidden or in the darkness out into the open. The Holy Spirit will bring to light. And what will the Holy Spirit force into the open? The world. The entire cosmos. John likes that word cosmos. God so loves the cosmos. The Holy Spirit will expose how the world works.

How specifically will the Holy Spirit do this? The first thing will be concerning sin. And what is the sin of the world brought into the light? “That they do not believe in me (John 16:9).” The Holy Spirit will expose the fact that the World does not fear, love or trust in God above all things. That the World fears the mighty. It loves money and pleasure. It trusts in its own strength. All of which are temporal. The day the mighty dies, his plans die with him (Psalm 146:4). The fool thinks I will tear down my barns and build bigger ones (Luke 12:28), yet tonight my soul is required of me. The Holy Spirit will bring to light our foolish belief, our disbelief in God.

The Holy Spirit will bring to light righteousness. Jesus’ explanation here might be a little less immediate. “Because I go to the Father, and you will see me no longer. (John 16:10)” It is not immediately apparent why the ascended LORD is the Spirit revealing righteousness. I think this is something of an answer to Psalm 24. That Psalm asserts that the earth is the LORD’s and the fullness of it. And then it asks “Who shall ascend the hill of the LORD?…He who has clean hands and a pure heart. (Paslm 24:3-4).” Paul ponders this in Romans 10. “The righteousness based on faith says, ‘Do Not say in your heart, ‘Who will ascend?’” According to the law we are always worried who could stand before the throne, and the answer is not a single person is righteous. But Christ the Lamb was worthy to ascend and take the seat at the right hand. The Holy Spirit bringing to light righteousness is the testimony that Christ sits at the right hand of God, and that our righteousness is dependent not upon our ability to ascend, but upon faith in the one who has ascended.

The Holy Spirit brings to light judgement? Should this place us back into the fear of not ascending? No, because what the Holy Spirit reveals is that “the ruler of this world is judged (John 16:11).” The important judgement is not ours, but Satan’s. He’s judged, the deed is done, one little word can fell him. The sin that is brought to light and confessed has no power over us. Because the one who sits on the Throne has had mercy, and brings to naught the plans of the evil one, who has been cast out of heaven and can no longer accuse us.

He will convict the world concerning sin and righteousness and judgement. He will testify to the light that shines in the darkness. A light that the world cannot overcome. In this light is the life of all who receive it.

Ascension Troubles

It was last Thursday (or today if you are reading this electronically). What was Thursday? Ascension Day. It is something of the forgotten feast day of the Life of Christ. Why is that? The easy answer is that it is on a Thursday – 40 days after Easter. And while Epiphany can be forced by a Pastor as a nice late ending to the Christmas season. It doesn’t hurt that everyone loves the story of the Wise Men and the star connected to Epiphany. And Holy Week seems appropriate piety. By the time you get to 40 days after Easter, Summer is starting. It is one thing to be in church when it is cold and dark. It is another thing to sacrifice sun and good weather. Less joking, more serious, Ascension I think hits on all the modern church’s hangups.

What do I mean by that? Well, among respectable educated folk, there is a tendency to spiritualize the more miraculous events of the life of Jesus. Not that the bible allows this, it is just that we are all educated as de facto materialists (i.e. there is nothing but matter). So anything that borders on the woo-woo must be a metaphor. The first step in much of mainline Protestantism’s losing the faith was spiritualizing Easter. The resurrection is a metaphor for new beginnings. If it’s just a metaphor, to hell with it. I want to thrust my hand into the side with Thomas.

Because then I know that my six foot slumber is temporary. If it’s a metaphor, there is no new beginning from that, unless you count being mulch a new beginning. What does Ascension say? That Jesus Christ was bodily taken up into heaven (Luke 24:50-53, Acts 1:6-11, Matthew 28:16-20). And that in heaven he has been seated at the right hand of God the Father (Creed, Revelation 4-5). Ascension says that Jesus Christ is reigning right now. And that is not some metaphor. The King is on his throne. And it is not some King in Parliament scheme. “The four living creatures and the twenty-four elders and every creature in heaven and on earth and under the earth and in the sea and all that is in them fell down and worshipped (Revelation 5:13-14).” This King is the judge of the quick and the dead. Good luck turning that into a metaphor.

The second reason is what the Royal decree of Ascencion Day is – evangelism. “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you (Matthew 28:19-20).” Luke’s version is “you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, Judea, Samaria and to the Ends of the Earth (Acts 1:8).” Having been clothed with power from on high, the Holy Spirit, the disciples are to make more disciples. Again, really hard to make a metaphor. That’s a concrete mission. The Gospel of John doesn’t have an explicit Ascension story, but it has an implied one that explains it a bit further. From John 16:7-8, “I tell you the truth, it is to your advantage that I go away, for if I do not go away, the Helper will not come to you. But if I go, I will send Him to you. And when He comes, He will convict the world concerning sin and righteousness and judgement.” Ascension Day, for it’s woo-woo happening, is very concrete. It is about sin and righteousness and judgement.

Ascension Day is this forgotten day, probably because we don’t always like the message. Jesus reigns. And He has given us a Royal quest. It is not the myth of Camelot or some far away story, but it has come very close to you. That Helper abides in you. Do we say Christ is Lord? And if so, do we mean it…by following his commandments? By being his witnesses? It is an uneasy message in these later days.

Rogate – What Shall We Ask?

Every 6^th Sunday of Easter I somehow get pushed into the same meditation. When we date things we find a calendar and just write say 5/3/24 – May 3^rd, 2024. And that time encodes where we are in the earth’s annual trip around the sun. It is handy for calculating interest owed or accrued as the days are easily countable. In other words it is a practical notation, but it is also a skinny one. Through at least the 19^th Century, something on May 3^rd might have been dated – On the Feast of Philip and James. This Sunday would have been known as Rogate. The Sundays all took their names from the first words spoken in service from the Introits originally in Latin. Rogate means to ask. The First Sunday in Easter was Quasimodogeniti which means “as newborn babies.” You might recognize Quasimodo from the Hunchback of Notre Dame. He was born on that Sunday. Marking time in those ways is thick. It isn’t as practical for calculating interest, but it communicates a lot more than simply where this rock is in its yearly journey. It is centered on what we the people of God are asked to be in contemplation about that week. And if you are a mystical sort, it might communicate what God is about at that time.

So if you come across a document dated Rogation week, what we are asked to contemplate is asking. Originally this Sunday was tied to the Spring Planting. Whether the seeds were already planted or if you were behind and still needed to get some in, Rogate was the Sunday that you asked God for his blessings on the ground and on the crops. Deep rural congregations would often exit the sanctuary and turn the soil while asking for blessing. Give us this day our daily bread. And that daily bread starts with these seeds and this soil.

Rogate for a long time also had a specific meaning in parish life. Sometimes just the Pastor, sometimes it would be an entire procession, if you were Roman Catholic a Eucharistic one, would walk the boundaries of the parish. As the community prayed for its daily bread and the planting, so also would you pray for the entire people entrusted to the care of the parish. The idea of a congregation and the idea of a parish get treated as synonyms today, but they are quite distinct. You could have many congregations within a parish. You could have “rogue” congregations. A congregation is ultimately just a gathering of people. The parish was a defined geographic space full of sinners and saints and everything in between. The parish priest/pastor/vicar was called to hold a spiritual office for the parish – all those within it. Those seen daily, and those never seen. Rogate was the week to be seen. And to ask God for the soil, that it might prove good soil.

I get to thinking in the same veins because I think these changes tell us a lot about ourselves. We no longer really have parishes, even the Roman Catholics. We are all “rogue congregations”. Singular outposts of believers gathering around word and sacrament. And this is still meaningful. And the promises are still present. But it is thinner. It is the church admitting that she no longer influences larger areas. At the same time the boundaries which once were very easy to recognize – you walked the boundary stones yearly. They are now moved all over to who knows where. Which means questions about what exactly one is called to. And if you bump into the neighboring vicar walking the boundaries, what do you owe him? But maybe more importantly who and what are we asking for these days? At the same time as our lives have often become so busy, they have become so thin. The thickness of living with family and known neighbors, has thinned out in many ways. Lifelong work partners now come and go every six months. People who you might spend 10 hours a day with for months leave and rarely cross our minds. The mystic cords of memory are thinner. No longer strands of 3 connected by water, blood and spirit, but cords of one. So thin that we would rather worry about people half a world away than our literal neighbor.

We can see and feel the thinness and know it isn’t good. But the thicker actually binds us. And are we binding ourselves to the right thing? St. Patrick knew what he was binding himself to (LSB 604). So I return yearly, made more difficult by myself having uprooted and moved a long way, and my Son heading back where we left for school, to questions about thick and thin. To what needs Rogation. For what should we ask the Father?

Easy Reading

The Reformation itself is grounded upon a doctrine with a terrible name – the perspicuity of scripture. Perspicuity, a word that I can’t even pronounce, that most people probably don’t recognize, means something real simple. It is the doctrine that normal people can read the scriptures and understand them. “These are written so that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name. (John. 20:31)” That taps into “the priesthood of all believers” and Luther at Worms stand on conscience. Luther would also stand in his great work “The Freedom of a Christian (1520)” on a semi-mystical point that “God would make us theodidacti, that is those taught by God (John 6:45).” And all of it gets summed up in the Reformation slogan “sola scriptura” – word alone.

At the time the Roman church argued that, “no, the scriptures were not comprehensible by ordinary people. You need the pope to tell you what they mean.” And given the situation today, it might be much harder to argue with them. As they satirically argued, “you are replacing 1 pope with millions of popes.” And that might not seem so satirical today. Of course the Roman argument has to wrestle with Paul saying things like, “not only as in my presence but much more in my absence, work out your own salvation with fear and trembling, (Phil. 2:12 ESV)” just as much as with those verses from John. Luther was a sharp reader of scripture. And Luther’s real radical streak was his willingness to trust God for his people. “My sheep hear my voice (John 10).”

There is always the tension in the church to want to over control things. Whether that is to put God in the box. Saying to God that he must act this way. Or if that is to put all the sheep under one shepherd who is not Christ. The Spirit blows when He wills. We all like sheep have gone astray and only one shepherd is the good shepherd. There are a bunch of reasons, but those are some of the reasons I love our First reading from Acts 8:26-40 this week. The reading about the Ethiopian Eunuch. It is a happening about all these confusing things.

It concerns Philip who was one of the 7 appointed deacons. The deacons were supposed to take care of the widows and orphans fund. But as soon as they are “ordained” you find Stephen preaching himself into martyrdom. And you find an Angel of the Lord telling Philip to “rise and go (Acts 8:26).” That spirit tells Philip to go out to a desert place. He blows where he wills. He uses the means he desires. Somehow along this desert road the Ethiopian Eunuch is traveling in a chariot reading Isaiah. The Spirit sends Philip up to him, and the scriptures are not all that perspicuous. “Do you understand what you are reading? How can I, unless someone guides me? (Acts 8:30-31)” Now that might seem to be a slam dunk passage for the Pope, but Luther might say that it seems to be a perfect case of God ensuring teaching, of the Ethiopian Eunuch being a theodidacti. Our slogans never capture the full complexity. Moving from preacher or teacher to Pope is a big step. One that doesn’t seem authorized. A usurpation of what Christ alone fulfills.

Because the Eunuch immediately runs past the teacher. Somehow, out in the desert, “see, here is water! What prevents me from being baptized? (Acts 8:37)” And the answer is nothing. They stop, Philip baptizes, and when they come up “the Spirit of the Lord carried Philip away.” That Spirit of the Lord was now abiding in the Ethiopian. (The Ethiopian church to this day maintains a story about his work on his return.) And that Spirit of the Lord had other work for Philip to do. “Philip found himself in Azotus, and as he passed through he preached the gospel to all the towns (Acts 8:40).”

We have this desire to make everything neat. A Pope to make things clear. A confession to give us surety. An office that would guard the teaching. And God often kindly works though such means. But our surety is never in the means, it is always in the one – in Christ. In the Spirit. “We are all beggars” were Luther’s last written words. And what we are begging for is not some magical talisman or wise teacher or scroll. Every earthly prop gives way. We are begging for God himself to stop and not pass us by. That we too might have that water of life.

Good Shepherd Sunday Contemplations

This Sunday is sometimes called Good Shepherd Sunday. The 4^th Sunday of Easter our lectionary in each of its three years reads a portion of John chapter 10 which contains within it one of the “I AM” saying of Jesus – “I Am the Good Shepherd.” Artistically it is one of the deep wells. The hymns worth singing range from the Sunday School simple “I Am Jesus Little Lamb” to the depths of “The King of Love my Shepherd Is.” But I’ve always had a nagging question about the day itself.

I grew up around farms, but even then you could say I grew up around modern farms. My dad as a child grew up on a farm. And portions of it you might have considered “modern” – like the tractor – but other portions were still pre-modern, like milking the cows. There is a big difference between growing up on a farm, growing up around farms, and like most people today who have no experience of rural life at all. I find the 20 something craze of keeping chickens a charming call back. My mom, who also grew up on a farm and kept chickens as what farm girls did, chuckles at giving up buying a dozen at the store to keep them. But what almost everyone who keeps chickens discovers quickly is two things: 1) chickens are incredibly dumb and hence annoyingly always getting into dumb spots and 2) they are a lot more work than you might have thought. When we city mice read the good shepherd type passages I fear that we come at them only through a pastoral romantic haze. Like The Natural stepping off the train to throw a baseball around in the field. Everything is clean and fresh and sunlit and well pressed. Everything is a little too cute.

And I wonder if this isn’t part of what puts some distance between how most people might have heard these passages and how we do. Just thinking about parts of Psalm 23 – a Psalm of David who was literally a shepherd at one time – the implements and verbs of the trade are contrary to the romantic glow. “He makes me to lie.” Like I said about chickens being stupid, sheep aren’t known for their brains either. The comic nearby captures that with a modern flair. Likewise, if you have never seen it, please watch this video: https://youtu.be/4DZNMgiqFYE?si=DHWbe0dnrb2IWeC- (It’s the sheep jumping into the ditch, if you have seen it.) The Psalm uses forceful language – “He makes”. That is not something the soft romantic glow usually allows. But the shepherd decides the general course of the sheep and the flock. And the straying sheep are brought back, unless the wolves have got them.

Alongside that forceful image of “he makes” are the implements of the trade, the “rod and staff.” Why do they comfort in the Psalm? Because they are pointed outward. The shepherd and the sheep walk through the valley – through the wolves – and the rod and staff are the implements of protection. But we should also ask what those implements are in the spiritual life. And I think the best answers is the law and the gospel. Sometimes it takes the rod – the law – to make us wake up and realize where we are. Sometimes it is the staff with the crook – the gospel – that is pulling us out of some ditch we’ve fallen into. The spiritual applications of those shepherd’s instruments are toward ourselves. And at least when they are employed might not be as comforting as the romantic picture.

Our modern mechanical comforts allow us to think of the pastoral with that romantic glow. Our distance from the reality allows us to have childlike thoughts when Jesus says “I Am the good shepherd.” Thinking the spiritual life is gambling in sun dappled fields. The reality I think they would have heard is exactly the opposite. This is life and death. The Good Shepherd doesn’t exactly care about sun-drenched happiness. He cares that you live. And life and death things often require serious instruments. Instrument that we might no longer accept. I’m going to go dig out my precious moments shepherd now after those comforting thoughts.

Men of Israel (Acts 3)

In Wednesday Bible study we are going to be starting the Book of Acts. I’ve been calling the study Necessary Stories since we started. Most of what we studied has been the narrative drive of the Old Testament. We looked at 47 stories in the Old Testament. We have just completed an extended reading of the Gospel of Matthew with some peeks at the other gospels. The book of Acts is something of the end of that narrative. And Peter’s preaching in this week’s first reading (Acts 3:11-21) captures why.

The story is one of Peter and John going to the Temple to pray. You might remember the old VBS song standard – Peter and John went to pray, they met a lame man on the way…silver and gold have I none, but such as I have give I thee, in the name of Jesus Christ, stand up and walk! And that episode, as such healings so often worked for Jesus, gathered a crowd to which then Jesus and now Peter would preach. The miracle was never about the miracle itself. The miracles were always about the one they pointed towards and His testimony. And the testimony of Peter is pure law and gospel. And it remains the proclamation of the church to this day.

Who is he preaching to? “Men of Israel. (Acts 3:12).” It is interesting that Peter explicitly calls out the men here, but he does. And what does he fault those men of Israel with? Their lack of spiritual discernment. “Why do you marvel at [the lame man walking]?” You have all seen exactly this for three years. We are no different than you. It is not our power or piety that does this. It is the God you know. “The God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob; the God of our Fathers.” And maybe this is why he addresses the men alone. The women of Jerusalem wept along the path of the cross. They anointed him before. Unlike Adam and Eve where Eve did not discern the snakes plot. It was the men who did not discern that the God of their Fathers was at work in Jesus in their midst.

And because of their poor discernment, what did they do? “You delivered him over and denied him in the presence of Pilate (Acts 3:13)” when even that gentile had decided to let him go. You asked for a murderer instead of the “Holy and Righteous One.” Because you did not discern the time of your visitation, “you killed the Author of Life (Acts 3:14).”

“God raised HIM from the dead. To this we are witnesses.”

That proclamation is the two edged sword, the law and the gospel together. Because it forces a decision. Do you believe the testimony? And that is ultimately what the narrative of the church is about to this day. The church testifies to the resurrection. “by faith in His name, he made this man strong (Acts 3:16).” By faith in his name are all men made strong and able to stand. “Repent, and turn again, that your sins may be blotted out (Acts 3:19).”

That proclamation of Peter has two specific parts to those men of Israel. “You acted in ignorance, as did your rulers, but God foretold [all of this] (Acts 3:17-18).” Part of the repentance, part of being able to stand, is to come out of your ignorance. God has given you everything necessary right there in his word, “everything to make you wise unto salvation (2 Timothy 3:15-17).” We can’t trust our own discernment which would ask for a murderer over the Author of Life. But we can be made wise by the Word of God. We’ve been given glasses to correct our poor eyesight.

The second part of that proclamation is the one thing that has not yet happened. “That he may send the Christ appointed for you, whom heaven must receive until the time for restoring all things. (Acts 3:21).” Today, Jesus is not raised to condemn you. Today is not the day of vengeance or judgement. Today is the day of grace. Today is the day we can correct our errors and believe. But the day is coming. The day for which we have been warned by those same prophets. The day when this narrative we live reaches its end. The day when a new narrative starts and all things are restored.

Shakespeare’s plays had 5 acts. All the high drama took place in Acts 3 and 4. But the effects of those acts took time to ripple out. There was always an Act 5. The Book of Acts is the start of Act 5. We are all in act 5. As the cosmic divine drama of passion and resurrection reaches to all eternity – Today, we are witnesses. Today is the day of grace when we are made to stand. Tomorrow is a new play.