Isaiah 25:1-5 What a Real Refuge Looks Like.

Observation: It's a very common theme in all the Old Testament prophets that God is a refuge for the poor and needy--and also that God levels the fortresses and fortified cities of the ruthless and cruel.

Application: Honestly, it's easier for me to relate to God on the defensive on behalf of vulnerable populations. To teach and preach about a Good who goes on the offensive against oppressors is harder for me. Maybe it's the nuances of my Lutheran theology, how Jesus taught us to pray for our enemies, how Luther taught that we're all both saints and sinners and the world can't be neatly divided into "good guys" and "bad guys". Maybe it's knowing the sad history of Christians reading about God going on the warpath and taking that as permission to act violently themselves. 

That may be part of it.

But a bigger part is that I'm afraid of the consequences of telling the truth.

I'm afraid, in this divided political climate, that people will take what I say as a partisan attack, and think of these words from Isaiah as words of judgement on them and their perspective. I don't want that. 

I'm also afraid, honestly, that if I read these words too closely that they'll implicate me: a white, straight, male, Christian American, in a world that (perhaps rightly) often sees America as the ruthless one on the world's stage.  I'm afraid of texts like this. I need to be praying about it. 

Prayer: God, help me overcome my fear of telling your truth. Let me speak the truth in love, sharing your word with all people as they are ready, building trust and relationships that can transform us in your image. Amen. 

Psalm 114 Going With the Flow

Observation: this psalm talks about how the strongest and most powerful forces we know--the seas, rivers, mountains and hills--tremble and move at God's command. The biggest example of this is God's parting of the Red Sea for the Israelites.

Application: Sometimes it feels like a huge risk to obey God, and follow God's lead in our lives. To really give sacrificially, sharing with those who have less, to forgive and pray for enemies, seems to go against our basic nature. That's why we need reminders once in a while that the one to whom we are tuning our lives is the same one who parted the seas--and who made them in the first place. The voice we listen for is the voice who taught the birds to sing, and the waves to whisper, and who spoke light itself into existence. In the short term, obeying God may put us out of tune with our surroundings. But in the long term, we trust that we are part of a symphony that will last into eternity.

Prayer: God, help us go with the flow of your love and grace, even when the world is rushing in the opposite direction. Amen. 

Mark 1:1-15 Right Into the Action

Observation: Today is the Festival of St. Mark the Evangelist. One unique thing I appreciate about Mark's Gospel is that it's the only one that drops us right into the thick of the action. Matthew begins with a lengthy genealogy, Luke with a purpose statement, and John with cosmic spiritual poetry, But Mark begins with "The Beginning of the Good News of Jesus Christ..." and three verses later we're already waste-deep in the flow of the Jordan river. From there out it's non-stop action: in particular the action of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.

Application: (Warning: yet another sci-fi reference!) I was very impressed with the film Rogue One, the first Star Wars film not to be associated with a trilogy. One thing that established it as unique from the very beginning was that the opening "crawl" of those wonderfully familiar paragraphs of exposition, floating through space, was completely absent. The film simply drops you into the thick of the action, and you are on the journey together with the characters. This reminded me very much of Mark's Gospel.

Part of the appeal of Mark, for me, is that it more closely resembles real life as a disciple of Jesus. Yes, sometimes there is time for an extended introduction, to study your Bible and its historical context, to learn the history of Christian theology, to keep up on what's going on in the world today and how our faith applies. Those times of study and reflection are important. But that does not mean the action stops. For a disciple of Jesus "The Beginning of the Good News" begins right at the moment of your baptism, at which point you are plunged into the chaotic waters of God's loving action in the world, without much of any introduction. What you learn, you learn on the way, following Jesus. 

Prayer: God, thank you for dropping me into the action so many years ago. Teach me what I need for today, so that I may trust you with all my tomorrows. Amen. 

Judges 6:36-40 The Idol of Certainty

Observation: Gideon is not sure if he is the guy God has chosen to deliver the Israelites from the invading Midianites and Amalekites. So he asks God to give him a sign: If he lays a fleece on the threshing floor overnight, and there's dew just on the fleece, then God must be calling him to lead the Israelites. Okay. No sweat. God does just that. But Gideon's still a little unsure...so what if God were to leave dew all over the ground, and have the fleece be dry as a bone? What are the chances of that happening, right? Oh...turns out God can do that too. It's pretty clear God is calling Gideon. Now it's less a matter of whether he's the guy for the job, and more a question of whether he feels ready and willing to do it.

Application: I was born in 1981, which puts me in that weird no-man's-land between "Gen X" and "Millennials." But as pop psychology will readily tell you, both groups have one thing in common: we are huge commitment-phobes. We have grown up with options. Cable TV, the internet, changing social norms, motivational "you can do anything" self-esteem culture, and half a dozen other factors have combined to create an environment where we are surrounded by multiple-choice questions. What is your ideal career? Where do you want to live? Who is your ideal partner? Get married, or move in first? It's a sea of options.

Psychologists have actually proven, however, that having lots of choices actually makes you less happy than having fewer. In fact, there have been interesting studies done about "manufactured happiness"--essentially proving that people who had no choice in how their situation played out, even if that situation involved difficulties and challenges, were better able to make peace with that situation than those who could have chosen differently, and are haunted by regret.

Like Gideon, so often when I'm weighing a big decision, I feel like I need half a dozen demonstrable, big signs from God. I want flashing, neon "GO THERE, DO THIS" signs. I want a notarized letter from the Father, stamped by the Son, delivered by the Holy Spirit. But here's the thing...

I no longer believe God is willing to play those games with us.

I think we make an idol out of certainty, and we too often spin our wheels until a path forward is 100% clear. God has, of course, created each of us a certain way, with certain gifts and personality traits, and not others. Naturally,  some choices will work out better than others in terms of our fulfilling God's purpose for us. But--and this is so, so important--God does not have one single iron-clad blueprint for every detail of our lives, which we can either follow or face terrible misery. God has given us choices. God is behind doors number one, two, and three in any decision we make, ready to walk with us down whatever hallway we choose to take. Increasingly, I hear the Spirit's voice saying, "Hey, Tim, I am not going to tell you what to do. I'm just not. But I am going to equip you for the journey. Take some responsibility. Make a decision and commit your whole self to it. Do or do not. There is no try."  

Prayer: Dear God, I pray for all who face uncertainty today. Dwell with them in it. Give them courage to make a choice, to do something with their whole heart and mind, with the trust that you are there with them. Amen. 

Psalm 16: In the Night My Heart Instructs Me

Observation: The message of this psalm is so, so simple, yet if we really took it to heart, everything else would fall into place. God alone is worthy of our ultimate trust. Anything or anyone else will disappoint. "I have no good apart from you." 

Application: The verse that grabbed me was "I bless the Lord who gives me counsel; in the night also my heart instructs me." 

See, when my life gets complicated, I tend to have too many thoughts and concerns to fit into a single  day. So my good old mind does this super-convenient thing where it makes appointments for me to just go over and over those same thoughts in the middle of the night. You know, that time when there's literally nothing I can do about it except worry...

Or pray. 

I wish I was better at remembering that worry and concern is a sure-fire, unmistakable sign that it's time to pray. It may not "cure" worries, but it reminds us we don't carry them alone. If your mind's going to run a mile a minute, you may as well invite God as a jogging partner. I hear She works the night shift anyhow. 

Maybe my heart does instruct me at night, the same way my body does during the day. When my stomach growls, my body is teaching me to eat. When my mind races, my heart is teaching me to pray. 

Prayer: God, thank you for my restless heart, which reminds me I can't do life alone. Help me listen, learn, be patient with myself, and trust in you. Amen. 

Psalm 118 God's Steadfast Love Endures Forever

Observation: This victory psalm is an essential part of the Easter celebration. We don't know the original context, what distress the original author was facing in her/his life, what the big victory was, and what the "rejected stone" may have been, which became a foundation. But from very early on, we know that Christians have read this psalm to describe Jesus' victory over death through the cross and resurrection. 

Application: This psalm has a special meaning for me, beyond the Easter liturgy. It was Laura's and my wedding psalm, on August 23, 2003. I wrote a special musical setting and sung it, along with the praise team from my home congregation of All Saints Lutheran Church of Hartland, Michigan. Every time I read it, I can hear the melody in my head, and I can almost feel the Northern Michigan sun on my face. 

I remember, at the tender age of 22, reflecting on how meaningful the psalm was, considering all the trials and tribulations Laura and I had overcome to get to that point. To be honest, today I can't  remember what half of them were. But with each passing year, the psalm grows in dimension and scope, incorporating every time God's steadfast love hung in there for us, when we were having a tough time hanging in there for ourselves and each other. Jesus really has been the foundation for us, just as he is for all who trust in him. And it's exciting to think of laying another layer of brick on top of that foundation in the year to come. Today I'm thankful to God for almost 14 years of marriage to Laura, my lifetime companion, and for God's steadfast love, which endures forever. And my prayer for you, as you read this psalm, is that you would also have a moment to remember when God's steadfast love endured for you. 

Prayer: God, we thank you for your love, which never falters, not even through death. Amen. 

Luke 23:56b A Day In Between

"On the Sabbath Day they rested according to the commandment." Luke 23:56b

The Gospels say virtually nothing about Holy Saturday. Even the "Daily Bible Reading" email I got this morning from the ELCA jumped ahead to John's resurrection account for tonight's Easter Vigil celebration.

Matthew's Gospel has the religious elites go to Pilate and ask that the tomb be made secure. In Luke's gospel, everybody rests. In Mark and John, Saturday isn't even mentioned. It was the Sabbath. Everything was on a break.

The picture you see above is of something called an Omphalos, or "navel." It's located in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, in Jerusalem. In medieval tradition, it marks the "center of the world." Everything else in the city, the country, the world, was theoretically measured by its distance from this thing: the "navel" of the world. It's located slightly off-center, on the floor of a room a little way away from the "action" in the Church. So, why is it that this spot was considered the "center"?

Well, as it happens, this humble little marker stands at a spot that's directly equidistant between the traditional spot of Golgotha--where Jesus was crucified--and the aedicule in the church, built over the empty tomb. It's the mid-point between Good Friday and Easter morning, between death and new life.

I think this spot is an important image for us to think about on Holy Saturday, because it's completely arbitrary. As far as we know, nothing of note  happened here. It's just the mid-point.

Similarly, as far as the Gospels tell us, nothing really happened on this day. People rested. Temple services went on as usual. It was a Sabbath like any other. Nobody knew what God was up to.

As I think about this "mid point" between Good Friday and Easter, this seems like the "navel of the world" to me in a symbolic way, too. Though Jesus has long-since been raised, the kingdom of life and love and justice he ushers in has not dawned in its fullness. The crosses of the world and our lives are still near at hand. But in our worship and proclamation, we dwell in the promise that one day all things will be made new. We sing with Mary, Jesus' mother, about a God who has brought down the proud and lifted up the lowly, as if God has already done so. Christians live a Holy Saturday life: knowing God's Kingdom is "already" in the sense that we have God's promise and the joy of Jesus' resurrection, but "not yet" in the sense that our own resurrection and new life is not yet complete.

This is the spot where, as far as we can know for sure, nothing is happening. But within sight is joy. It's coming. Thanks be to God. 

1 Corinthians 11:23-26 I Received From the Lord

Observation: Paul is frustrated with the practice of the Communion meal in the Corinthian church. Is it because they don't cross themselves at the right time, or have the right theological concept in their head as the bread is raised? Nope. It's because in those days, Communion was a full meal for the whole Church, and the wealthy were gathering earlier than the poor, and eating and drinking everything they had brought, leaving little or nothing to share. It's in this context that Paul shares his understanding of the Lord's Supper: an understanding Paul says he "received from the Lord."

Application: Today is Maundy Thursday, the day when Jesus gathered with his friends in an upper room and shared with them the words: "This is my body, that is for you. This cup is the new covenant in my blood." I'm not sure what Paul means when he says he "received from the Lord" these special words. Paul never knew Jesus personally, so was this another revelation, like the blinding light in Damascus? I don't know. But I do know the feeling, standing before God's people, of holding up a gift: bread and wine from God's creation, and words not my own. Words that, even after all these years, I still find mysterious. Words that transport us back to that first night in Jerusalem, the last night of Jesus' earthly life. Words that transport us forward to the final feast he envisioned for all. We can receive these words, but we can't fully explain them. We can pass them on, but we can't transfer ownership. Not even Paul could. We can share only what we received from the Lord.

Prayer: Thank you, Lord, for this meal to unite us with you and each other. Amen.

Isaiah 49:1-7, and Laboring in Vain

Observation: in this "servant song" from Isaiah, God's servant--the prophet, or maybe Israel as a whole--despairs and feels as though "I have labored in vain, and spent my strength for nothing and vanity." But rather than decreasing the responsibilities of the servant, God responds by increasing them, to be "a light to the nations." 

Application: When this verse came up in the Sunday lectionary a few months back, it hit me like a ton of bricks. And now, in this Holy Week, as I mourn Christian martyrs in Egypt, victims of gas attacks in Syria, and regular elementary school kids--kids exactly my daughter's age--in San Bernardino, where I was born, it hits me again. We work hard. We pray hard. We tell the story of God's love. We preach and teach peace. And yet the world still hurts so, so badly. What have I been doing? What have we been doing, for 2000 years? It's hard not to feel like the frustrated servant: "I have labored in vain." 

And God says: "Okay. Let's try this again...

"It's still not about you."

"You have literally devoted your life to this story, and you still forget what it means. Did I miss something, that now it's your job to take the world's sins into your own body? Are you handling the redemption business now? Are you the one called to make peace and reconciliation through your death, and make all things new?

Because I thought that was my job."

Our "thoughts and prayers", and even our life's work of loving our neighbor as ourself, will not move the needle in terms of bringing peace and reconciliation to humankind. Only God can do that. Our job is to tell the story, and show it to all who will look: 

"Behold the life-giving cross,

On which was hung

the Savior of the world."

Of course we still work for peace. Of course we still stand for justice. But we do so because it's the right thing to do, not because we believe we're alone in the task. Peace is God's job. God makes it, we tell about it in word and deed. 

Prayer: Lord, have mercy on your world. Draw us to your cross, and remind us that our work is never in vain, as long as we point to your work in Jesus. Amen.

Psalm 36:5-11 God's Steadfast Love

Observation: This psalmist uses images from nature to compare with God. Love that reaches to the heavens, righteousness like mighty mountains. 

Application: In the midst of Holy Week preparations, and reflecting on the violence in the world--gas attacks, missiles, church bombings--it's too easy to focus on human wickedness. But the human condition is absolutely NOT the headline of the story of Jesus' passion and death. If your only take-away from the liturgy in which you participate this week is, "Wow, people are awful", then we have failed in our proclamation. 

Instead the headline  should be: "God loves you. A lot." To proclaim a God willing to die for us is to proclaim a God whose love reaches not just to the heavens, but to hell, and back again. To proclaim a Lord who forgave us from the cross is to proclaim a Lord whose judgments are indeed like the deep: they reach the depths of our selves, which we wish we could hide. Holy Week is just not about us at all. Our part is to just stand there, in awe of God's love. 

Prayer: Dear Lord, thank you for your far-reaching love, and your deep forgiveness. Amen. 

1 Samuel 16:11-13, A Cinderella Story

Observation: It follows a very common Biblical motif that God chooses a totally unexpected person to succeed Saul as Israel's king. Jesse is so confident that one of his older sons will be chosen that he leaves David outside tending the sheep. If I were to guess, I'd say the folk tale Cinderella may be influenced by this ancient story. After every other lady of the house has tried on the glass slipper, it's the servant girl who turns out to be the real deal.

Application: It's a liberating thought, that God sees things in us that we can't see in ourselves or each other. Those who know me personally know that right now, I'm in the call process, which means I'm interviewing with congregations to possibly serve as their pastor. Honestly, it's both exciting and intimidating. It's not always easy to feel confident walking (or Skyping) into an interview, considering the great honor and calling, and frankly the difficulty, of what I may be asked to do. But in today's reading it's good to remember that God may see things in me that I can't necessarily see in myself, and that God has plans for each of us that we wouldn't even believe if we were told in advance. Luckily for us, God almost never does. 

Prayer: God, thank you for the story of David, your anointed ruler, ancestor to Jesus, our anointed Messiah. Help us trust in you, that it's not our own strength or intelligence or abilities that will accomplish what you ask of us, but your anointing. Amen. 

Matthew 22:23-33 The Scandal of Resurrection

Observation: Some Sadducees (part of an elite religious ruling class) take issue with Jesus' proclamation about the Resurrection of the Dead. Jesus was not alone in preaching this. In fact, this was one of several things about which he and the Pharisees agreed. But it may be strange to the modern ear to hear that in Jesus' time, the more conservative position among Jews was that there simply is no such thing as life after death. The idea of a bodily resurrection--or of any other kind of an afterlife--was considered subversive. Jews who expected to receive life after death were more likely to take risks in protest against Rome and its puppet rulers. Jews who had no such beliefs, and believed they had only this one life to live, were easier to control.

Application: Resurrection of the dead is still a controversial concept, but not necessarily for the same reasons. It seems like every single year as Easter approaches, I manage to shock a few lifelong Christian believers by saying that "the resurrection of the dead" we profess in the creeds applies to all the dead, not just to Jesus. Many Jews of Jesus' time, as well as the first generations of Christians, went to their graves believing not in an immortal soul which will "fly away" to a separate heavenly realm after death, but rather that at the appropriate time, God would raise them, body and soul, to experience eternal life right here on a renewed earth. The New Testament seems unclear on exactly what happens to our consciousness between the day of our death and that day. Some texts seem to indicate that we do have some kind of peaceful, disembodied existence with God as we await the last day. Others seem to say we are just gone: ceasing to exist except in God's memory, to be raised in the future. 

The idea of an immortal soul is more common to Greek philosophy than first-century Jewish or early Christian thought. To the extent that Jews did believe in a soul which is "the real me", apart from my body, they were influenced by Greek thought, whereas Jewish thought was much more earthly. They were more inclined to say our bodies were ourselves. 

In the end, it's a mystery. Obviously, nobody's ever successfully come back to tell us what the real deal is (apart from Jesus, but he isn't telling!). But I will just say this: I think the idea of an immortal, indestructible soul that is the essence of who we are, is so attractive because it gives us control. It makes us feel stronger, more independent, less fragile. Whatever awful thing may befall your body, nobody, not even God, can destroy your soul. It will always survive, always remain, no matter what. In short, if you have an immortal soul to fall back on, you do not have to entrust your whole existence to God. It's like having an extra copy of yourself saved "in the cloud." Your earthly hard drive can crash, but nothing can happen to the back-up copy. 

The resurrection, on the other hand, is doubling down on God's will to save you. It's saying what Jesus said--"Into your hands I commend my spirit"--and really meaning it, because you honestly aren't sure whether you'll exist, or in what form, after you die and before God decides to raise you again. It's radical, outlandish trust in God's promises:

"For I know that my Redeemer lives,
and that at the last he will stand upon the earth;
and after my skin has been thus destroyed,
then in my flesh I shall see God,
whom I shall see on my side,
and my eyes shall behold, and not another."

Job 19:25-27

Again, that it requires more trust in God doesn't necessarily mean it's "right" and the hope in an immortal soul is "wrong." Either way, we're betting on God, all the way, and we trust however it all goes down, God won't disappoint.

Prayer: God, thank you for our bodies and our minds. Thank you for the Spirit of life that keeps us awake and breathing while we walk this earth. Help us entrust all that we are--whatever we are--to you. Amen. 

Ephesians 2:1-10 The Problem With Being Dead.

Observation: The letter to the church in Ephesus uses just about the strongest possible metaphor to contrast life before grace, and life after grace: being dead, and coming to life again.

Application: The biggest problem with being dead is you can't do anything. You can't work. You can't serve. You can't praise. You can't love. You can't speak for yourself or anybody else. You can't sing. As far as we know, you can't even think or dream. In the world we know through our five senses, you have lost any and all power to create change. You're just gone. 

This is a perfect metaphor for a life of trying to reconcile with God without grace. You can't do it. You may as well be dead. If we compared it to being sick, maybe you could take the right antibiotics and feel better. If we compared it to sleep, you could just "get woke" and be done with it. All of these are conditions from which, if you've got the gumption, you can do something to recover. 

Death is... well, not like that. 

This is a good metaphor because it is memorable and it forces us to face down a hard truth. Without God's grace, we have the same chance as a cadaver of earning righteousness. In fact, the cadaver may have an advantage in that for better or worse, it has stopped sinning.

God's grace isn't just a bonus to make a good life better. God's grace brings us to life from death. God's grace does for us what no human being, no force of nature, nothing in all creation can do: it saves. 

Read and trust: if God can raise a dead man to life, God can bring a sinning people forgiveness. If God can raise Jesus, God can raise you. 

Prayer: God, we thank you for your grace, which is life to us. Amen.