Psalm 114: "Lord Prepare Me to Be a Sanctuary..."

When Israel went out from Egypt,
the house of Jacob from a people of strange language, 
Judah became God’s sanctuary,   
Israel his dominion.  
-Psalm 114:1

Observation: Psalms are worship songs, written to be sung in the Jerusalem temple. Yet this song remembers a time before there ever was a temple. It would have been interesting to be there, amid the huge stone pillars and high walls of this grandiose temple, and hear echoing off those very walls a memory of a time when God's only "sanctuary" was an extended family of slaves, far from home, with no possessions, much less a house of worship, crying out to a God they barely knew for release.

Application: Some of the most powerful worship experiences I've ever had have been outdoors, with no buildings in sight. My time as a counselor at Michi-Lu-Ca, a Lutheran camp in Michigan, was formative for my faith. And on countless evenings, as the campfire time was drawing to a close, we'd sing together,

Lord, prepare me

to be a sanctuary

pure and holy

tried and true

With thanksgiving

I'll be a living

Sanctuary

for you. 

Even though the words are individualistic--"Lord prepare me"--Psalm 114 and countless other Biblical texts show that God's sanctuary is not so much within the heart of any one individual, but among a community of believers. Jesus said, "wherever two are more are gathered, I am there among them." It's not in a building where God's presence resides. The other six days a week when your church's sanctuary sits empty, it may as well be an auditorium or a classroom (as, indeed, Living Grace's worship spaces are!) But when God's people gather for worship, it is a holy place. It is a sanctuary. 

God, thank you for dwelling among your people. Help us to continue on as your dwelling place through the week, doing your will, loving whom you love, listening for the cries for freedom that touch your heart. God, prepare us to be your sanctuary. Amen. 

John 4:1-26 Worship in Spirit and Truth

Observation: Jesus goes way off his "home turf" , to Samaria, and defies cultural expectations by not only talking to a woman he's not related to, in public, but a woman who happens to be a Samaritan. Jesus just got done saying "The Spirit blows where She wills." God's Spirit has brought Jesus to this unfamiliar place, and Jesus follows Her lead.

Application: Even when we as Christians start to see ourselves as "disciples making disciples," trying to share God's love and grace wherever we go, we naturally tend to want to share first with the people like us. For years, Lutherans looking to start a church would "look for the Lutherans"--i.e., the Germans and Scandinavians--and go there. And when the communities around us started to look less German and Scandinavian, and frankly less white, our congregations started to flounder. This, despite the ELCA setting a goal at its founding to be at least 10% nonwhite and speaking a language other than English, and 28 years later, still being 98% white. I think if we're listening for "where the Spirit is blowing", we need to stop making assumptions about what a Lutheran looks like, and start listening to voices different from our own. We need to go off our own turf, like Jesus did, and start some new conversations...or really, listen carefully to conversations that have been going on for years, and letting those who we have seen as "other" than us set the agenda. That's what Jesus did.

Prayer: Spirit, lead us where we would not at first think to go. Start a conversation. Help us to listen and not interrupt. Help us to find a new worship together, which isn't based on our own cultural assumptions, but rather on your guidance and your truth. In Jesus' name, Amen.

Psalm 111 and "Fear of the Lord"

"The Fear of the Lord." Frankly, we hear a lot more about it from the Bible than we do in most Christian congregations. As a pastor, I admit I've never preached on it before. But it's a concept that runs throughout scripture. Even Martin Luther's Small Catechism explains every one of the Ten Commandments, "We are to fear and love God, so that..."

Maybe some think of it as outdated. We want a "Buddy Christ",  a cosmic friend and confidant, a good listener who sympathizes with all that we're going through. We may see ourselves as having "evolved" beyond the concept of a wrathful God, holding us over the pit of hell and ready to drop us in at any moment. Who has any use for that these days?

The first thing I'd say is that the "pit-of-hell" image is really not what "Fear of the Lord" really means. I mean, the ancient Hebrews had no concept of hell! That only came later. "Fear of the Lord" and "fear of hell" are two very different things.

But I've also heard "fear" equated with "awe and reverence," and I don't think that captures it either. Fear means fear. It was translated that way for a reason. But it's not fear based on God meaning us harm. It's a fear of the unknown. If an alien spacecraft landed on your front lawn today, even if they showed no signs of hostility, you'd be scared. Why? Because you know nothing about them, and what you do know by their being there is they are more advanced and powerful, and have knowledge that you can't hope to approach. The power dynamic is hopelessly skewed, and humankind would not have survived this long if something like that didn't freak us out.

So it is with God. What we do know about God is that God is Holy--which means "set apart", or other. We know that God is wise and powerful. God made the cosmos, which, the more we learn about the cosmos, should only increase our awe and fear. And we know that God is righteous: meaning that God lives up completely to the ethical standards God sets for us...and we don't. Because we sin and aren't perfect, any relationship we enter into will entail some fear that the relationship will be broken. That's what makes a bride and groom nervous on their wedding day. That's what makes us fearful taking home our first child from the hospital. Knowing we will screw up in ways that we can not take back.

Knowing that God is infinitely loving, that God is infinitely better at forgiving us than we are at screwing up, should help. But if we actually love God and want to please God, if we are in it for more than just heaven after we die but actually want to better know this mysterious and unknowable One who formed us and grows us--then a little fear is, indeed, the beginning of wisdom. Maybe not the whole thing, but certainly the beginning.

God, I am afraid. I'm afraid because you are Holy, and I'm not, you are righteous, and I'm not. I'm not afraid of hell--I believe you when you say you have that covered--but I'm afraid that in this short span of time I will let you down. Be with me in my fear, and transform it into works of love. Amen.

1 Samuel 16:14-17:31: Healing Music

Saul is under attack.
It's not just the Philistines: it seems like the Philistines are always causing some kind of trouble for the Israelites (and probably vice versa). But Saul's battle is spiritual. The spirit of the Lord has departed from him, and the text says God has sent another spirit "to torment him." I can't imagine how awful that must be...not only to lose the sense of purpose and "special-ness" that comes from being God's anointed ruler, but to gain a spirit of torment--of constant anxiety and pain--in its place.

I don't have any psychology background, and I'm not one to try and superimpose modern science onto every facet of scripture. In my opinion, that can both limit the range of meaning we get from a biblical text, and it can force us to throw out as irrelevant that texts for which we don't have an "explanation."

But with that said, what Saul is experiencing seems a lot like depression. Not just loss of purpose, but getting paranoia and anxiety in its place. Maybe if he were alive today, he'd benefit from medication. But they didn't have that. Instead, what Saul's aids suggest--and what ends up helping him--is music. He finds David, who plays the lyre for him, and it helps.

I have been amazed at times by the spiritual cure that music can provide when I am in distress. I can't imagine my spiritual walk without it. I love that before David was God's anointed king, before he was even the warrior who felled Goliath, he was a musician...what today we might call a musical therapist. If you have that gift, I really encourage you to use it. God can do amazing things with it.

God, thank you, thank you, thank you for music. Thank you for the healing it brings. Help us as a society to value those with this gift, and encourage those with this gift to pursue it as a vocation--not just a fun hobby, but a way to heal the world. Amen.

Daily Devotion: Psalm 109, Context, Context, CONTEXT!

Just this past Sunday, I preached about the biblical command to pray for political leaders, for the sake of everyone their decisions will affect.
Today, in the daily texts, I find an example of the opposite: a prayer against a king. A prayer, I might add, suggested by Senator David Purdue of Georgia as being appropriate for President Obama this past June.
I remember being shocked by the story. The psalm goes on, "may his children be orphans; and his wife a widow." When I try to pray for leaders, even those I strongly disagree with, this is NOT what I mean. Hey, I've prayed for politicians to lose elections before, and I've done so based on my Christian principles, but praying for someone's death? I'd say based on Jesus' interpretation, that is actually a violation of the fifth commandment.
But it's Biblical, isn't it? I mean, it's right there in the Psalms!

Well, here's the thing about that...

You might want to go to the beginning of Psalm 109. It's a psalm of King David...and verse 8 is quoting David's enemies. The ones conspiring against God's anointed ruler. The ones with "wicked and deceitful mouths," who "beset me with words of hate." David is actually praying against the very people speaking in verse 8.
I'm still not saying anyone should be praying to orphan anyone else's children, whoever it is. And I'm CERTAINLY not comparing the President to God's anointed king. But I am saying it pays to read with some context, and take God's Word as more than just an orchard from which to pick the apples we like best.
God, guide me by your Word, your whole Word, and nothing but your Word...a Word whose name is Jesus Christ. Amen.

Daily Devotion: 1 Samuel 13..."Don't Panic."

Saul is panicking. The Philistines are all mustered for battle, "troops like the sand on the seashore in the multitude", and his people are trembling. Samuel is on his way, but he's late, so Saul takes matters into his own hands. He makes a burnt offering to God--he does Samuel's job for him--and thus ends the kingship of Saul. That's how he loses God's blessing. By panicking. By overreaching. By not honoring the different callings God has for different people. Saul is a king, not a priest. Instead of waiting for the one God has called into that role, he tries to do it all. And he fails.
God has gifted each of us differently. Some of us are apostles, prophets, pastors, teachers, and evangelists. This is a New Testament breakdown for our gifts in the church. When we understand our gifts, we can better honor those of others. We can structure our efforts based on what we're good at. But sometimes it won't feel like enough. Our problems will feel too overwhelming. We'll panick. We'll want to try doing someone else's job, instead of what we do best.
That's when it's so, so important to remember: you are enough. Your gifts are enough. You can do what God has called you to do, and God will call someone else to do the rest. You can not be everything to everybody. You can only be you. But God knows that. That's exactly what God wants from you.
God, we are overwhelmed. We are tempted to panic. We are lured by the trap of trying to do someone else's job. Refresh us, remind us, recall us to our own. Amen.

Daily Devotion: John 1:29-42

When John's disciples want to learn more about Jesus, they ask, "Where are you staying?" It's true, you can learn a lot about someone by looking around their house. If you looked around my house, you'd guess pretty quickly by the toys, puzzles and shoes strewn around the floor that we have three kids. You might even be able to guess their ages.
You can also learn about Jesus by the places where he has promised to dwell in our lives. In the bread and wine of a communal meal of forgiveness. In the announcement of God's forgiveness to all people. When people gather in his name, and pray together with one heart. And in places where compassion is shown: hungry are fed, strangers welcomed, the sick and imprisoned are visited.
When we ask Jesus, "Where do you live?" This is the answer we get from Scripture. Yes, Jesus sits at the right hand of God. But that hand is always at work in this world.
Jesus, thank you for showing us your dwelling place. Help us to show up there, and to invite others who need to spend some time with you.
Amen.

Daily Devotion: Psalm 107 and our Scandalous God

We serve a scandalous God.

It's one thing to promise to lift up the lowly, the poor, and the hungry. That tends to be a pretty popular choice. Most every effective leader at least pays lip service to that goal. 

But our God always takes it a step further. This psalm is an example. Not only is there the promise that the hungry will live and have a place to live, but there's also the promise that "he pours contempt on princes, and makes them wander in trackless wastes..." and there's almost the sense that God does this in response to the need of the needy, as though to see princes brought low will help them.

No need to take my word for it: this is not an isolated incident. You can find this attitude throughout Scripture. Like in Mary's Song, which is based on Hannah's Song, and Luke's version of The Beatitudes, which causes enough stir just by blessing the poor and mourning, but goes even farther by pronouncing "woe" to the rich and happy. I could go on. 

I'd say from a human, scarcity-based perspective, this could be read as simple balance: the rich need to have less so that the poor can have more. A forcible leveling out the playing field. That may be part of it, but since God gives abundantly--more than any of us could ever possibly need--I believe there's more to it than that.

We serve a God of love. A God who wants every person to be saved, and to come to the knowledge of the truth. So I believe that this strain of "bringing low" those in high positions is not just about "taking their stuff" and sharing it with the poor. Our God is not simply a cosmic Robin Hood.

I think it's about compassion. It's about sanding off the rough edges of our souls, through putting ourselves in the position of those whom we do not see. Simply put, no reasonably sane person, whose life is pretty good, will ever seek or ask to be "laid low" this way. But because of who God is, it needs to be understood that if God is doing it, it's because God loves us and wants us to be better, more compassionate, more authentic human beings. 

I'm treading carefully here, because I do not believe that God somehow pushes a button and sends a calamity into our lives to somehow "knock us off our high horse." But when bad things do happen to us, I think God can use that to teach us. So if I am feeling like I'm being "brought down" in some way--emotionally, socially, physically, financially, spiritually--the question I want in my heart is not, "O God, why me?" but rather, "OK, God, while I'm here, for whom can I learn some compassion?"

God, I am a straight, white, American, college-educated man. In the eyes of the world, people like me are lifted up high. But I ask that, in the ways that I need, the ways that will make me better follow you as your disciple, you will bring me low. Fill me with your love and compassion. Take me to the cross.  In Jesus' name, Amen.  

Daily Devotion: 1 Samuel 7:2-8:22

This election season, my mind has drifted a lot to the role of Christians as citizens of earthly nations. This text from 1 Samuel is a good reminder to us: our first and only legitimate ruler is God. For generations after the Israelites escaped Pharaoh's rule, God was recognized as their King: they had "Judges" to help interpret what God to say, but that was it. 

I don't think that means earthly governments are "illegitimate", or that some sort of theocracy is the only way to go. I actually treasure living in a country where my faith--or any faith--is truly voluntary. 

What it does mean is that no earthly ruler, government, or nation should demand a Christian's ultimate loyalty, and though we are called to pray for them, we are also obligated to offer a prophetic word when they fall short of God's will for humankind. 

I feel this is an especially important in a democracy, where the role of "king" is divided among the people. Our responsibility to God and our neighbor is even higher than it would have been for the Israelites, because the government that is either getting it right (or let's face it, more often pretty wrong) is us. God has appointed *us* with care for God's people and creation. May we wear the "crown" well. 

God, help us to rule justly, knowing any authority we have comes from you. Let us seek your wisdom, compassion, and love. Amen. 

Daily Devotion: 1 Samuel 5 & 6

It's a pretty common theme in Scripture, and in life, that to make something right, you have to come to terms with what is wrong. When the Philistines steal the Ark of the Covenant, they immediately realize this was a bad call: evidenced by the plague of tumors and of mice on their land. So to make things right, they send back the Ark with golden tumors and mice, as a symbol of that from which they need healing. Similarly, back when the Israelites were disobedient to God in the wilderness, they were bitten by snakes, and it was an image of a snake, lifted up, which healed them. Jesus says that his own time of being lifted up on a cross, as a symbol of humankind's hatred and disobedience, will also bring healing to the world. We still "lift high the cross" as a symbol of our need for healing. But I wonder: if we were to get more specific about an image for our own brokenness today--either as individuals or a society--what would that image be?
God, lift up in me what is sick. Let me look at it, and hand it over to you for healing, in Jesus'name. Amen.

Daily Devotion: Luke 24:1-12

There was a line: there's almost always a line. You follow the crowds of people inside a massive door, into the semidarkness of a vast candle-lit church. The dome above lets in just enough light to reveal ancient icons of saints looking down on the jostling tourists below. The line snakes its way around an inner rotunda. You wait, and wait, and wait. A grumpy Greek monk allows you inside, a few people at a time. There's a candle-lit outer chamber, and finally, only big enough for one or two people at a time, there's the inner chamber: the tomb of Christ. You kneel, pray, and are shooed out again a minute later.
I found it very moving, but also disconcerting: like the Resurrection itself.
The young men in Luke's Gospel ask, "why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here, but has risen!" The thing about following a living Lord is that he is rarely to be found in the last place you "put" him. Jesus is on the move, and he is as likely to meet you out in your daily life as in the places we traditionally call "holy." Don't stick around the tomb. He's not there.
This is especially relevant to me, as I worship with a church whose "holy space" is currently the local high school. It brings out even more clearly that the real "holy space" is to be found whenever and wherever God's people gather.
Dear Lord, help me not to linger at your empty tomb. Let me not worship familiar places or ideas, but go find you among your people, and the people we are called to serve. Amen.

Daily Devotion: Luke 22:63-71

This year being an election year, I'm thinking a lot about "going on the defensive." We've all had times of being misrepresented, even slandered. Our first instinct is to get angry, and shoot the accusations right back. "Hey, that's not what I said! And what about when you did/said this?"
That's the game the Council wants to draw Jesus into. They want to corner him in some blasphemy. They want him to lash out and defend himself. Jesus responds without anxiety. He essentially says, "Nothing I can say will convince you, but that won't change the truth of who I am.". I think this is a helpful model for us when we are tempted to get drawn into contentious mud-slinging. We can and should stand for what we believe in. The Gospel commands that we do take stands in our society, and some will be unpopular. But rather than getting everybody to agree with us, or casting aspersions on those who don't, we can respond with peace and resolve. Like Jesus, we can say, "We may never convince you, but we will continue to be who we are, and be people of love."
God, help us stand firm in your love. Amen.

Daily Devotion: Go to Dark Gethsemane (Luke 22:39-51)

Of all the Holy places in Jerusalem, one that made the most impact on me was the garden of Gethsemane. The above photo was taken by my friend, Guy Davis, who was part of our tour group. As beautiful as many of the churches are through the Holy Land, the simplicity of this garden--filled with olive trees descended from the same ones under which Jesus prayed--gripped me. Like every other site, it was somewhat crowded with pilgrims. But still, amid the greenery, there were moments where I glimpsed what it may have been like. On the edge of the city, with an easy escape to the hills behind you...and the mission to which God has called you dead ahead.
When I go back there in my mind, the question I ponder is, "God, what cross have I been avoiding? What sacrifice, what change, needs to happen in my life?"
 Wake me up, Lord. Call me to pray with you, and stand with those being betrayed and crucified today. Wake me up. I have been sleeping too long.

Daily Devotion: Like 22:24-38

On the night before Jesus dies, he talks with the disciples about the time he sent them out to proclaim his good news in the towns of Galilee. Back then, he told them to travel light: no purse, no extra bag or sandals. Now, he tells them to pack more carefully: purse, bag, sandals...and sword.
This text is only found in Luke's Gospel, and it has always been troubling to me. Is Jesus abandoning the way of peace at this crucial moment? Is it time for the disciples to take the fight to Jerusalem, and to Rome?
This thought may have popped up in the disciples' minds, but it's clear from what happens next that the answer is "no." Why would Jesus command his disciples to fight for him, then allow himself to be arrested and crucified? No, Jesus is still walking the way of peace. His battle is still against Sin and Death, not Herod or Caesar. But he is preparing his disciples for a longer, more dangerous journey. This is his way of saying, "This next trip is not just around the block. I'm asking you to go a long way, through some dangerous terrain, and it will get harder before it gets easier." There is no account in Luke or Acts of any of the disciples forced to actually use their swords. But they are called to be witnesses to the ends of the earth, for the Good News that Death has been defeated by Jesus the Messiah.
Thank you, Lord, for winning the war. Prepare us for any dangers on the path ahead. Amen. 

Daily Devotion: Luke 22:14-23

It's funny how quickly our attitudes can change. When I was in First Communion class as a third-grader, there was still some sense that we had to "understand" what was going on at the Communion table in order to receive it. The former LCA even commissioned a lengthy study in the late 1960s, to determine what age of child can be expected to intellectually grasp the abstract concept of Jesus' Real Presence (That's when 5th grade, rather than Confirmation, became the norm). But I wonder: how many people at the table that night really "understood" what Jesus was doing? I wonder, were they even baptized? (Possibly by John, but certainly not in the name of the Triune God, as we now require). Did not fully "getting" it mean they didn't receive the benefits of this meal? I don't think so.
In many congregations, the attitude today is that children of any age are guests at the Lord's Table, the same as their parents. As far as I'm concerned, I'll gladly commune any child whose parents believe he/she is ready. This doesn't do away with lifelong learning about Communion as our level of spiritual maturity allows. It simply embraces reality: the amazing miracle of forgiveness and presence Jesus accomplishes there, is one that no living person can fully grasp. We're just grateful to be invited.
Lord, thank you, thank you, thank you for inviting me to your table. Amen.