Wednesday, April 26, 2023

“This same Good News that came to you is going out all over the world. It is bearing fruit everywhere by changing lives, just as it changed your lives from the day you first heard and understood the truth about God’s wonderful grace.”  (Colossians 1:6, New Living Translation)

                Oh, the horror! Oh, the indignity! Oh, the inhumanity!

                Am I referring to the war in the Ukraine? Or, perhaps, then, the war in Sudan?  Or maybe the many mass shootings in the United States since the beginning of the new year.

                Nothing so serious as all that.

                No, the disaster, I have recently discovered, is that McDonald’s is changing its traditional, tried and true recipes for its hamburgers. They are replacing chopped, raw onions with seared, caramelized onions. What gall! There has not been such an outrageous scandal since Coca-Cola tried to change its recipe many years ago. McDonald aficionados are outraged; up in arms; threatening boycotts. How dare McDonalds change its whole raison d’etre! The nerve of some people!

                Personally, I like caramelized onions, but that’s just me.

                Change seems seldom welcome or wanted by a lot of people. Just try changing something in the order of a church service and you will see what I mean. It will usually illicit strong protests, especially if it is a swing to more modern worship songs. Or try to change one’s habits, like smoking, dieting, and one sees that change can be very hard even if it is good for you. Or try changing one’s lifestyle or relationships or work habits or whatever, and many folk will get upset even at the mere suggestion that we should change in any way.

                Can a leopard take away or change its spots, asked Jeremiah. “Generations come and generations go, but the earth never changes.” (Ecclesiastes 1:4, NLT) To borrow a saying from Jesus which is not too far off the mark, “it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich person to enter the Kingdom of God!” (Matthew 19:24, NLT) Few of us intentionally seek out or enjoy or welcome change.

                But change is the very essence of Gospel living. “This means that anyone who belongs to Christ has become a new person. The old life is gone; a new life has begun!”  (2 Corinthians 5:7, NLT) Some might squirm with such an “old-fashioned” term like “repentance.” But it captures the dynamic of what it means to change under the influence of Jesus Christ. “My old self has been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me. So I live in this earthly body by trusting in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.” (Galatians 2:20, NLT)

                This is no trivial change. It is the radical, deep-seated change that alters our thinking, our attitudes, our behaviour. It is the change that challenges us to see the world and especially others differently – without malice, prejudice, hatred, fear. It is the change that ignites compassion, forgiveness, justice, love. It is the change that builds character and responsibility.

                “Either way, Christ’s love controls us. Since we believe that Christ died for all, we also believe that we have all died to our old life.” (2 Corinthians 5: 14, NLT)

                Our faith should always be growing, expanding, developing and open to new possibilities. We need to keep our minds and hearts open to fresh visions, new expressions of grace and love. We need to allow the Holy Spirit to blow us in new directions and towards new horizons.

                God’s call upon to be ready to change is everywhere in a scripture. Just think of Sarah and Abraham who in their old age are called to leave house and kin and travel to a strange, new land. Likewise, when we are in relationship with Christ, we are emboldened to be part of the New Kingdom.

                “Since, then, we do not have the excuse of ignorance, everything—and I do mean everything—connected with that old way of life has to go. It’s rotten through and through. Get rid of it! And then take on an entirely new way of life—a God-fashioned life, a life renewed from the inside and working itself into your conduct as God accurately reproduces his character in you.” (Ephesians 4: 21 -24, The Message Bible)

                Trust me, caramelized onions aren’t that bad!

Dale

 Wednesday, April 19, 2023

“Then Jonah prayed to his God from the belly of the fish…” (Jonah 2: 1, The Message Bible)

                I prefer my fish pan-fried in garlic butter and in my belly; not praying from the belly of a fish.

                Praying from the belly of a fish as Jonah did becomes a metaphor for being caught in some deep, perilous, painful, dire set of circumstances from which we seemingly can’t get out. Maybe you are in debt up to your eyebrows. Maybe you are in a bad relationship. Maybe you have worries which keep you awake at night. Perhaps, your health is letting you down. The list is endless, but you get the idea.

                Something has swallowed us whole. We’re in too deep.  We can’t see a way out. We are floundering. (Sorry, bad fish joke; couldn’t resist.)

                Sometimes, but not always, we have nobody to blame but ourselves for getting ourselves in these pickled herrings. (Yikes, I did it again.)  Jonah ran away from God. He didn’t want to listen to or obey God. He thought he could escape from God and hide from his responsibilities.

                I get it really. There were lots of times in my pastoral ministry when I really didn’t want to do the task at hand. For example, for the longest while, I did not enjoy doing weekday services in seniors’ homes.  They seemed pointless and it seemed hard to engage with so many of the congregants. I did the services out of duty, but no sense of great love. It is a story for another time about an experience that totally changed my attitude, but, after that experience, I gladly served these occasions. Let’s just say that Jesus strongly showed me a better way.

                God is going to find us and get our attention. Sometimes, we have to pray from the belly of our fishes to figure it out.

The second chapter of Jonah contains the prayer that Jonah lifted up while he was contemplating his predicament from the belly of that humongous fish. It is quite an amazing prayer when you consider the circumstances. Perhaps, one could argue that it was the prayer of a desperate man, but, even so, it is a very honest self-assessment of his predicament and a re-affirmation of his faith and trust in God.

“From the belly of the grave I cried, ‘Help!’” To get out of the dark bellies we are in, we need to understand that we need help. We can’t go it alone. In this case, Jonah needed God’s intervention. We all need God to listen to our prayers for help, guidance, wisdom, encouragement, and support.   

We also must admit where we have gone wrong and have complicated the situation through our own actions and sins. “Ocean gripped me by the throat. The ancient Abyss grabbed me and held tight. My head was all tangled in seaweed.”   We get tangled up in our mistakes, selfishness and  bad decisions.

It is never too late to remember that God is on our side. “When my life was slipping away, I remembered God…”

Here comes the strange part. “But I’m worshiping you, God, calling out in thanksgiving!” Thanksgiving? I’m in the belly of a fish, Lord. It’s dark and it stinks and I am nothing but fish-food. What I am to be thankful for?  Maybe, it is just the fact that I am still alive, or that God is “out there” and is listening. God is not done with me yet. So, I find some grace in my moment of failure and distress. “Be cheerful no matter what; pray all the time; thank God no matter what happens. This is the way God wants you who belong to Christ Jesus to live.”  (1 Thessalonians 5: 16 -18, TMB) I know this is hard, but it is also part of how we get out of those bellies we are in. We look for resurrection.

Finally, the prayer expresses Jonah’s desire to participate willingly in God’s call on his life and gifts. “And I’ll do what I promised I’d do! Salvation belongs to God!”  If we are looking for easy answers, simple rescue, or salvation, we might have to wait a while. But when we are ready to respond, take responsibility, act out our faith, take risks and face the future, “Then God spoke to the fish, and it vomited up Jonah on the seashore.” 

Thank God. We’re out.

It still isn’t very pretty, I’ll admit, and there is still always much to do. He couldn’t just sit on the shore, glad that was all over, and pick seaweed out of his nose. There is still Nineveh ahead; work to be done.  We are all called to acts of faith, love, compassion.

So, yes, brush the seaweed off your shoulders, get off the beach, ignore the fact that you smell like fish and move forward.

“Since then, you’ve been cleaned up and given a fresh start by Jesus, our Master, our Messiah, and by our God present in us, the Spirit.” (2 Corinthians 6:11, TMB)

Dale

 Wednesday, April 12, 2023

Three days later, the Israelite officers went through the camp, giving these instructions to the people: “When you see the Levitical priests carrying the Ark of the Covenant of the Lord your God, move out from your positions and follow them. Since you have never traveled this way before, they will guide you.”  (Joshua 3: 2-4, New Living Translation)

               Usually, I have a pretty good sense of direction. Some folk can barely cross the street without consulting their GPS. The one place where I can totally get turned around is in Kitchener when we visit our son and family. I need all the help I can get. Even the GPS leads me astray. (Okay, it’s a poor workman who blames his tools.) We get to their place eventually, but in a very round-about way. Susan is a very good navigator and I would be literally lost without her. But Kitchener? Yikes!

                In today’s text, Joshua, who has taken over the leadership of the wandering Hebrew tribes from Moses, has led his people to the banks of the Jordan river. They set up camp while they figure out their next steps. Across the river is the Promised Land.  They need to get across somehow. The way forward is unclear. But soon, the order goes out that on the next day, the people are to follow the priests who will be carrying the Ark of the Covenant. They will need to put their trust in God. “Today you will know that the living God is among you.” (Joshua 3: 10, NLT)

                So, they set out. They have never been this way before. It is something new.  It is indeed the road less travelled. The people must have wondered what was going on when they reached the banks of the Jordan river. How were they going to cross to the other side?  But the Ark carriers waded right in. And like the Red Sea, the waters parted revealing a new road indeed thought the waters of the Jordan, pointing a way to the other side. Who could imagine?

                The future is often a way we have not travelled before. Sometimes, we see and fear the obstacles which are in our way. How do we get across? Even then, the Promised Land, i.e. the future, is full of a adversaries, problems, conundrums and frustrations.  The Israelites were going to have to deal with the Canaanites et al. if they were to inhabit and enjoy this land. But it is also potentially full of fresh beginnings, new possibilities and great potential.

                It takes some gumption to walk through deep water. Or a better way to put it, it takes trust, faith and having confidence in God.  If we hope to wade into the future, we need to rely upon  God who has a plan for us to move forward. It may not be the easiest way forward but it is the right and best way to reach certain destinations that measure up as the experience of a Promised Land. “Even when the way goes through Death Valley, I’m not afraid when you walk at my side. Your trusty shepherd’s crook makes me feel secure.”  (Psalm 23: 4, The Message Bible)

                The disciple Thomas, known for his doubts, once challenged Jesus, “Master, we have no idea where you’re going. How do you expect us to know the road?” (John 15:5, TMB) Jesus’ response gave us the wonderful words, “I am the Road, also the Truth, also the Life.” (TMB)  Jesus is the living Ark of the Covenant. He leads us through even the most perplexing obstacles, even when there are crosses along the way.  He is the one who invites us, “Follow me.”

                We have just celebrated Jesus’ Resurrection. It, too, is a brand-new road, never travelled. But now, we are given a new hope, a new way, a new freedom, a new possibility which leads us forward.

                “Since this new way gives us such confidence, we can be very bold.” (2 Corinthians 3:12, NLT)

                Let us walk in the Light of God!

Dale

Resurrection Sunday (Easter), April 9 – Bystanders at the Resurrection

Mary was standing outside the tomb crying, and as she wept, she stooped and looked in.  She saw two white-robed angels, one sitting at the head and the other at the foot of the place where the body of Jesus had been lying. “Dear woman, why are you crying?” the angels asked her. (John 20: 11 -13, New Living Translation)

            The last time we saw Mary Magdalene, she was with the women who had set up watch outside Jesus’ tomb (Matthew 27:61). Eventually, probably, weariness overcame her and she went home, intending, as we see, to come back early in the morning. Or maybe, the guards at the tomb chased her away.

However, it was still dark when she approached the tomb. Luke tells us that the women were coming to the tomb with more spices for the body.  How they were going to move the huge stone that blocked the tomb was beyond them. Perhaps, Mary was the first to arrive.

It was dark. The stone had been rolled away. The body was missing. The logical conclusion that she came to was that someone had stolen Jesus’ body.

Let’s just stop right there for a moment.

We all are in the dark as to what exactly happened overnight before Easter morning. We have returned to the tomb, expecting one thing, and are stunned by what we see or don’t see. We haven’t any idea how to roll away stones and boulders which block our path and sight, and, yet, we discover that they are gone, just the same. We try to arrive at logical, rational, feasible conclusions to explain the first impressions of our experience.  

It's hard. It is enough to make one cry.

Why are we crying? We weep as if it couldn’t get any worse, but it has. Even angels can’t dissuade us from the evidence that someone has stolen or removed the body of Jesus and hid it elsewhere.

Why are we crying? Because the ignominy of death is deepened by his absence from the tomb, where he was supposed to be, where he was meant to be, where he was dead to rights to be.

Why are we crying? “They took my Master,” she said, “and I don’t know where they put him.”

There is always a thorny problem when we don’t know or understand where Jesus is.

But like Mary, we need to stop staring at an empty tomb and see who stands behind us. We need to stop allowing death to set the agenda and hear the voice which speaks our name.  We need to trust the promises he made and recognize the One who made them in the first place.

“I saw the Master!” (John 20:18, TMB)

No more crying!

Instead, there he is, the reality of the Resurrection standing before us. Perhaps, it takes a moment or two for the truth to sink in.  Our focus was on the tomb, but now it needs to be upon the Risen One.

It seems appropriate that this revelation take place in a garden. All of Creation began with an ideal Garden which humanity tossed away in sin.  Scriptures also end with a Garden, restored, complete, where “never again will anything be cursed.”  (Revelation 22:3, TMB) The Risen Lord stands in the middle of those two gardens and reveals new Hope, new Joy, new Possibilities, new Life.

“I saw the Master!”  

He is the beginning of that journey to all that God intends for us. “I am the Alpha and the Omega, the First and the Last, the Beginning and the End.” (Revelation 22:13, NLT)

“I saw the Master!”

These words are the words of faith, discipleship and assurance. These are the words of the Way, the Truth and the Life. These are the words of those of us who dare believe in something so incredibly outrageous and preposterous as Resurrection. Something so radical. Something so provocative. Something so contrary to the laws of nature. Something that is thrilling beyond all measure.

“I saw the Master!” 

            Use your words this Resurrections Sunday. Who do you see?

            I come to the garden alone
            While the dew is still on the roses
            And the voice I hear, falling on my ear
            The Son of God discloses

            And He walks with me, and He talks with me
            And He tells me I am His own
            And the joy we share as we tarry there
            None other has ever known

 Dale

 

Holy Week, Saturday, April 8 – Bystanders on the Way to the Cross

“Late in the afternoon a wealthy man from Arimathea, a disciple of Jesus, arrived. His name was Joseph. He went to Pilate and asked for Jesus’ body. Pilate granted his request. Joseph took the body and wrapped it in clean linens, put it in his own tomb, a new tomb only recently cut into the rock, and rolled a large stone across the entrance. Then he went off. But Mary Magdalene and the other Mary stayed, sitting in plain view of the tomb.” (Matthew 27: 57 – 61, The Message Bible)

                Together, all four Gospels give us a very clear picture of Joseph of Arimathea. He was wealthy. He was influential and well-respected in the Jewish community, “a man of good heart and good character.” (Luke) He appreciated Kingdom of God values. He had not voted in favour of Jesus’ execution.  Yet, he feared judgement and possible censure from his Council colleagues.  Most intriguingly, he was a follower of Jesus. Arimathea was a small village, just outside Jerusalem.

                That is more information than we ever usually get in the Gospels about someone.  His action after Jesus’ death on the cross were noteworthy to the Gospel writers. Despite whatever apprehensions he has, Joseph stirs up his courage to ask Pilate for permission to take Jesus from the cross and bury him.

                Bury Jesus, not just anywhere, but Joseph buried Jesus in his own tomb, “a tomb never yet used.” (Luke) He tended to the corpse of Jesus with tender-loving care, providing linens and burial spices and aromatics, and along with Nicodemus, they buried Jesus “in accordance with Jewish burial customs.” (John)

                End of Story.

    The Grand Experiment, wrapped up in Jesus’ life, ministry and teachings, had come to an end. It is finished indeed. As if signifying that his personal hopes, expectations and beliefs about Jesus were also dead with Jesus’ death, Joseph buries Jesus’ remains in his own personal tomb. The Rock of Ages was interred in a tomb carved out of rock. Can’t get much more final than that.

    Even though we know how the Story actually continues rather than ends, let us not jump ahead just yet.

    Sometimes, our fears, worries, hurts, sins, emotions, unfortunate decisions, mis-actions becomes the hardest rock in which we bury ourselves and our  faith. Our personal tombs are far from never having been used but are instead full of the remains of our past, our mistakes, our selfishness, our doubts, our regrets and our lost opportunities. Like Joseph, we are good people but there are circumstances and events which bury our hopes, extinguish our faith and entomb even our confidence in Jesus. We bury Jesus in our personal sepulchres of life’s  vanity.

    We give up. We give in to death and its inevitability. We enshrine the failures. We resign ourselves to accept whatever life and death shoves at us. Our tombs symbolize the disappointments, the disenchantment, the let-downs which separate us from hope, joy, freedom, love.

    Joseph of Arimathea buried Jesus in his own tomb and then “he went off.” Give him his full props for doing what he had done so far. But once he was done, he left the tomb with Jesus fully secured inside. There was a huge stone and then eventually guards. No one was going in or out.

    That is the nature of the Saturday of Holy Week. One is caught in the middle of Good Friday and Resurrection Sunday. We bury Jesus and wait for what is to come next. In the meanwhile, like the women who gathered at the tomb, we watch and wait.  Joseph left; the women waited. Joseph finished his sad task; the women sat in plain view of the tomb. Joseph accepted Jesus’ death; the women watched.

    Joseph doesn’t appear to have waited long enough to see what happened at his own tomb.

                Out of the fear and dread of the tomb,
                Jesus, I come! Jesus, I come!
                Into the joy and pleasure, Thine own,
                Jesus, I come to Thee!
                Out of the depths of ruin untold,
                Into the flock Thy love doth enfold,
                Ever Thy glorious face to behold,
                Jesus, I come to Thee!

Dale

Holy Week, Good Friday, April 7 – Bystanders on the Way to the Cross

“There were also quite a few women watching from a distance, women who had followed Jesus from Galilee in order to serve him. Among them were Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James and Joseph, and the mother of the Zebedee brothers.” (Matthew 27: 55 – 56, The Message Bible)

                 I don’t know how the women could bear to watch it, even from a distance.

                The men had all fled, save maybe John. After the first part of Jesus’ trial, Matthew tells us that “At that point, all the disciples deserted him and fled.” (Matthew 26:56, New Living Translation). They cut and ran as the Message puts it. When the going got tough, the not-so tough got going, and hid in the shadows and behind closed and locked doors.

                But the women, supporters, providers, care-givers for Jesus and his ministry, and most of all, close friends to Jesus, endured the horrific spectacle of watching Jesus be crucified. There was nothing they could do or nothing they could say that would or could stop this travesty. They watched from a distance. I am sure that they wept and tried to comfort and support each other through the horror. Women are good at that sort of thing, better than many men.

                The disciples hid; the women endured the Cross.

                From a distance. That phrase haunts me somewhat.

                Do any of us really want to get all that close to the Cross of Jesus? There is a distance of over 2000 years almost between us and that first Good Friday. We view the Crucifixion through the lens of time. We have layered it with theology, interpretations, theories and observations.  Sometime, as good as some of these observations may be, they also keep the true nature of the Cross of Jesus at a safe distance. More theory than an actual event.

                We want to get to Easter, to Resurrection Sunday ASAP. Let’s get past this gruesome reality, put it behind us and move on to bolder truths.

                The women watched from a distance.  Perhaps, if they got any closer, they would hear the hammer blows, see the blood from the nails, observe the pain on Jesus’ face, smell the sweat and blood. In my mind, crucifixions are best experienced from a distance, if truth be told.

                But even from a distance, the Crucifixion is far too real, personal, experiential, in your face. We don’t want to get too close, but neither can we look away. We don’t want to see the grain in the wood, but we feel the heat of the noon day sun.  We don’t want to hear the cries of pain from the hammer blows, but our eyes tell us the story anyway – even from a distance.

                John’s Gospel tells us that three of the women along with John, one of the disciples, withdrew from the distance and came close to the Cross. One of them was Jesus’ mother, Mary. Such courage!  Anyone who has ever lost a child, even an adult one, must feel her anguish at the sight of her son on the Cross. When Jesus was still an infant, an old man predicted that Jesus would be the cause of “the pain of a sword-thrust through you.” (Luke 2:35, TMB) This was that moment come to pass. Yet she and the others drew close to the Cross of Jesus. 

                They shortened the distance between themselves and the Cross. Step by step, they drew closer, until they were close enough to hear the whispered voice of Jesus. Amazingly, even from the Cross, he was still showing compassion for others, still caring about others, still bestowing blessings on others, still forging loving relationships. (John 19:25b -27)

                Here is reason enough to shorten the distance between the Cross of Jesus and ourselves. Only up close and personal, do we not just experience the agony, but we experience the Love. Only at the foot of the Cross of Jesus do we hear him proclaim forgiveness, offer the gift of Paradise, bestow upon us the kinship of faith and fellowship. Only near the Cross of Jesus do we get close enough to experience fully the impact of Jesus’ death, the whole “for us” nature of this event. “When we were utterly helpless, Christ came at just the right time and died for us sinners.” (Romans 5: 5 NLT)

                The gap between ourselves and God has been filled. It came at a costly price.

                “But now you have been united with Christ Jesus. Once you were far away from God, but now you have been brought near to him through the blood of Christ.” (Ephesians 2: 13, NLT)       

                Jesus, keep me near the Cross
                There a precious fountain
                Free to all a healing stream
                Flows from Calvary's mountain.

Dale

Holy Week, Maundy Thursday, April 6 – Bystanders on the Way to the Cross

One of the criminals hanging alongside cursed him: “Some Messiah you are! Save yourself! Save us!” But the other one made him shut up: “Have you no fear of God? You’re getting the same as him. We deserve this, but not him—he did nothing to deserve this.” Then he said, “Jesus, remember me when you enter your kingdom.” He said, “Don’t worry, I will. Today you will join me in paradise.” (Luke 23: 39 - 43 The Message Bible)        

Maybe, if I had been a Gospel writer, I might have been tempted to leave the two thieves out of the story altogether; let Jesus have the centre stage all to himself. After all, isn’t he the most important character in this painful drama? Isn’t that what Paul is meaning when he wrote: “I deliberately kept it plain and simple: first Jesus and who he is; then Jesus and what he did—Jesus crucified.” (1 Corinthians 1: 2, TMB)

                Yet all the Gospels relate the fact that there were two others who met the same fate as Jesus on Good Friday, although only Luke’s Gospel gives us some deeper insight into these two thieves. They are more than just bystanders, in large degree. They are more than only incidental participants.  They have flesh and bone. They give us some fresh context to understand Jesus’ Crucifixion, even if three of the Gospels make them not much more than a footnote.

                Jesus is crucified for all humankind between two examples of our humanity. One of the bandits is a bitter cynic, scoffing at the whole idea of Messiahship. Fat lot of good it was doing him or Jesus. In his eyes, Jesus was no better than himself, just another victim, just another poor sap who was condemned by Roman justice or lack thereof, depending on how one saw it. Jesus was a failed Messiah. All talk; no action. Jesus was going to die just like he was dying. It was put or shut time. Save yourself! Save us!

                But the other thief senses something more is at play. His dire predicament and subsequent request, even if a foxhole conversion to some degree, has him thinking, hoping, praying that Jesus is more than another victim. He seeks connection with Jesus. He appeals to Jesus’ compassion and asks for Jesus’ blessing and inclusion, even under these most terrible of circumstances. He clings to a shred of hope. He fights for the only dignity and the only possibility which he has left, the Love of God and a place in the heart of that Love.  “Jesus, remember me when you enter your kingdom.”

                Two humanities. One is scornful, derisive, disbelieving, pessimistic, dismissive, unimpressed and unconvinced about anything Jesus is or might be. Who could really blame him? The other is hopeful, open-minded, open hearted, self-aware of his guilt, who has nothing to lose and everything to gain by putting his faith in Jesus.

                Of course, then, the Gospels writers needed to tell us that there were two others who died the same deaths like Jesus on Good Friday. It confirms and emphasizes the very purpose of Jesus’ Crucifixion, that that he died for sinners, all sinners. Not everyone understands or gets it but blessed are those who do.

                “The message of the cross is foolish to those who are headed for destruction! But we who are being saved know it is the very power of God.” (1 Corinthians 1:8, New Living Translation)

                One thief got it. The other didn’t.

                One thief died with hope and anticipation. The other thief died in hopelessness and despair.

                One thief died in a leap of faith and found redemption. One thief died in desperation and anger.

                It was never too late for one thief. It was never going to happen for the other.

                Two humanities with Jesus in the middle.

                Which side of Jesus are you on?

                “My old self has been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me. So I live in this earthly body by trusting in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.” (Galatians 2:20 NLT)

Dale

Holy Week, Wednesday, April 5 – Bystanders on the Way to the Cross

Then the soldiers nailed him to the cross. They divided his clothes and threw dice[a] to decide who would get each piece. (Mark 15: 24, New Living Translation)

                Recently, a co-worker asked our son, Nathaniel, whether there was anything like Black Friday sales on Good Friday. Sigh!

                Maybe on boards and nails at the local lumber yard.

                As of yet, businesses and stores have never commercialized the Crucifixion. I am almost surprised. It used to bother me that, when we lived in Quebec, all the stores were open on Good Friday even as we trudged to Good Friday services. But I imagine that shops and stores were open in Jerusalem on that fateful day. Life went on for most.

                The chocolate and candy industry profit from Easter but that is more a Springtime association than it has to do with this weekend of Death and Life. I have never seen a chocolate cross, but that doesn’t mean that one doesn’t exist somewhere. It would be tacky, but when has that ever stopped anyone from making a buck?

                The soldiers who had carried out the execution of Jesus and the other two bandits certainly were not adverse in making a profit out of the situation. They gambled for the pitiful remains of Jesus’ purple cloak that had been thrown on him as a mockery of his kingship. John’s Gospel says the robe was ripped or cut into four parts. I suppose it was an expensive enough garment that there was value in each piece. Perhaps, they sold what they won and it was enough to buy an ale down at the local pub. I doubt that Roman soldiers made a ton of money so every little bit extra would be welcome – even the robe of a dying man.

                It demonstrates a cruel indifference under the circumstances. I don’t know what kind of person it takes to become an executioner, but it would seem that these men had become hardened to their task. They had become inured to the pain, blood and agony they inflicted. It was just another day-at-the-office.  They had nothing better to do while they waited for the three inevitable deaths; why not play a game, make a little killing in a game of chance, pass the time away?

                All of it makes me shudder.

                In Quebec, sometimes, after the Good Friday service some pf the people would go to a nice restaurant afterwards. There is no sin in that.  It was an act of fellowship and friendship. But how ordinary. Or sometimes, there would be coffee and cookies after the Good Friday service. Again, nothing inherently wrong with that. But it always made me a little uncomfortable that we had just experienced through worship the Crucifixion of Jesus and now here we were, delightfully munching on chocolate chip cookies and having a cup of coffee. My deacons who probably thought me being overly zealous, at least compromised with me and we provided hot-cross buns with cheese, plus tea and coffee. It had more of a feel of communion to me, I guess. I am grateful for their cooperation, just the same.

                My point is that I wonder whether we have become inured ourselves to the Crucifixion event. Have we “seen” it so many times that it fails to move us, to interrupt our routines, to disturb our habits, to take our minds off the daily needs of our lives?  Does it become a toss-off moment? Do we divide the dividends of Jesus’ death and move on? Do we fail to see what really has just happened?

                I am probably being way too harsh on us. There was one soldier who finally got it: “When the Roman captain standing guard in front of him saw that he had quit breathing, he said, ‘This has to be the Son of God!’” (Mark 15:39, The Message Bible) Maybe he was still gripping his portion of the purple robe as he said this. But for a moment, he stopped and paid attention to all that was going on. For a moment he caught the truth of the dying figure before him.  For a moment, he understood the significance of this unholy death.

                Take your own moment this Good Friday, see what Love has done for us!

                “But now, by giving himself completely at the Cross, actually dying for you, Christ brought you over to God’s side and put your lives together, whole and holy in his presence. You don’t walk away from a gift like that! You stay grounded and steady in that bond of trust, constantly tuned in to the Message, careful not to be distracted or diverted. There is no other Message—just this one.”  (Colossians 1: 22 -23, The Message)

Dale

Holy Week, Tuesday, April 4 – Bystanders on the Way to the Cross

“There was a man walking by, coming from work, Simon from Cyrene, the father of Alexander and Rufus. They made him carry Jesus’ cross.” (Mark 15:21, The Message Bible)

                Just an innocent bystander. Just passing by. Really didn’t want to get involved.  Just trying to mind his own business; get home and enjoy a glass of wine on the patio.

                But that was not how the day unfolded for Simon from Cyrene.

                Instead, he was jerked out of the crowd by a Roman soldier. One didn’t dare argue with or resist a Roman soldier. Jesus was exhausted and weak from his torture and was incapable of carrying his cross the rest of the way to Golgotha. Perhaps, Simon had stopped to gawk, becoming a curious spectator to this ghastly spectacle of Roman cruelty.  Since he and his family seem to be well known to Mark, perhaps, Simon was a follower himself (or became one after) and was watching with horror and trepidation.

                Whatever, he is in the wrong place at the wrong time. He is forced to pick up the cumbersome cross and hoisting it on his own shoulders, follow the grisly parade to the Place of the Skull. I wonder if he stayed to watch the execution itself.

                It seems to be human nature to become rubberneckers when there is some calamity happening. I have known of people who have chased fire trucks when one goes by. Crowds gather at car accidents, fires, natural disasters, and the like.  After last year’s derecho storm, I drove around our city just to see all the damage. Sometimes, the crowds get involved by shouting taunts out at the participants. I expect that there was a lot of that sort of behaviour as Jesus passed by.

                The flip side to that gawking is that it also seems to be human nature to want not to get involved. We want to keep on going. We want to avoid any risks that getting involved might entail. It is one thing to stand at the side of the road and watch, but it’s quite another to voluntarily help and get one’s hands as dirty. There are some folk who do it, all the time, performing rescues, providing food or shelter, wading into danger to help others, offering medical aid. But we have also heard too many stories of people hearing calls for help or actually witnessing a crime of violence who did nothing. (It is really annoying to see people taking selfies at these events and yet do nothing.)

                How would we have felt if pressed to take up Jesus’ Cross and put it on our own backs and shoulders?

                We usually think in terms of Jesus bearing the Cross on our behalf. “They called him every name in the book and he said nothing back. He suffered in silence, content to let God set things right. He used his servant body to carry our sins to the Cross so we could be rid of sin…” (1 Peter 2: 24 -125, TMB)

                It is Paul who wrote about sharing the sufferings of our Lord. “I gave up all that inferior stuff so I could know Christ personally, experience his resurrection power, be a partner in his suffering, and go all the way with him to death itself. If there was any way to get in on the resurrection from the dead, I wanted to do it.” (Philippians 3: 1- 1--, TMB)

                It is a two-way relationship, this bond of the Cross. We are not just spectators in the crowd. “If any of you wants to be my follower, you must give up your own way, take up your cross, and follow me.” (Mark 8:34, New Living Translation)

                Following Jesus may lead to making some tough, difficult, even uncomfortable choices. It may press us into action. It may mean that we cannot cross to the other side of the road and avoid the mess of humanity heaped, beaten and bruised, lying in a ditch. Instead, we are called to bind wounds, provide comfort and aid, spend ourselves even if it is costly, risky, inconvenient and troublesome.

                Simon makes us think of our relationship with Jesus because of the Cross. We can’t bear the death of Jesus on that Cross, but we can lighten his load a little, for a moment.  Even though it pains us, “for you have been given not only the privilege of trusting in Christ but also the privilege of suffering for him.” (Philippians 1:29, NLT)

 Dale

               

Holy Week, Monday, April 3 - Bystanders on the Way to the Cross

There was one prisoner called Barabbas, locked up with the insurrectionists who had committed murder during the uprising against Rome. (Mark 15: 7, The Message Bible)

            I wonder what Barabbas really thought and did after he was released from prison - after Jesus took his place. 

Did he count his lucky stars? Was he relieved? Grateful?  Did he appreciate the irony of the situation?  What did he think about Jesus? Did he take a better-him-than-me attitude? Did he pity Jesus? Or perhaps, Barabbas didn’t give Jesus a moment’s extra thought, just skedaddled as soon as the jail cell opened and the guards let him out.  Did he give a second thought to the other prisoners who also were in his insurrectionist gang, but left behind? Did Barabbas give up his insurrectionist and murderous ways or did he go back to his old ways?

So many questions; so few answers.

Barabbas appears on the Cross’s stage for just a brief moment. Then he is released and is gone. He is a bit player in this drama, yet all four gospels mention him by name and describe how Pilate, at the mob’s insistence, freed this man instead of Jesus. Barabbas had escaped the brutal execution of his own day on the cross.

There have been many fictional depictions of Barabbas. My research reveals that in Spanish, “barrabás” is a word for a bad person.  In Slavic languages,” baraba” pertains to someone who is a vagabond or even a scum. Some accounts have tried to rehabilitate his reputation and redeem his character. But there are no true historical accounts concerning Barabbas and his subsequent actions and demeanor after his release. He shows up, never really is seen, even then, and gets set free.

What do we know? “This year there was a notorious prisoner, a man named Barabbas.” (Matthew 27:16 NLT) Some translations add that his full name was Jesus Barabbas, further adding to the bitter irony. But that is it; that’s all but it implies much.

Notorious, a murderer, a criminal, a rabble-rouser, a mal-content, an enemy of the State Barabbas was a throw-away human being, a nuisance, an irritation, easily disposed of, if not now, then some other time. He was a pawn in a conspiracy between religion and state. He was a trifling scruff of humanity in a much bigger, unfolding drama.

And Jesus died in his place! Of all people, Jesus took this man’s place on the cross. Jesus suffered the pain and agony that this man was slated to undergo.

Was that fair? No. But perhaps, that is the point.

“Christ arrives right on time to make this happen. He didn’t, and doesn’t, wait for us to get ready. He presented himself for this sacrificial death when we were far too weak and rebellious to do anything to get ourselves ready. And even if we hadn’t been so weak, we wouldn’t have known what to do anyway. We can understand someone dying for a person worth dying for, and we can understand how someone good and noble could inspire us to selfless sacrifice. But God put his love on the line for us by offering his Son in sacrificial death while we were of no use whatever to him.” (Romans 5: 6 -8, The Message)

Of no use whatsoever. Or to put it succinctly, “for while we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly.” (New Revised Standard)

When the world has judged and condemned you or me, or when we feel like we are a lost cause, or when our past catches up to us, or when life beats us down, or when others accuse us or shame us or wish us grievous harm, then Jesus takes our place. He sets us free. He revokes our punishment. He takes on our humanity, whether good or bad, and cancels the debts we owe.

“Could it be any clearer? Our old way of life was nailed to the cross with Christ, a decisive end to that sin-miserable life—no longer captive to sin’s demands! What we believe is this: If we get included in Christ’s sin-conquering death, we also get included in his life-saving resurrection. We know that when Jesus was raised from the dead it was a signal of the end of death-as-the-end. Never again will death have the last word. (Romans 6: 6 -7, The Message)

Thank God almighty, we are free at last!

Dale

 

 

Holy Week, Palm Sunday, April 2 – Bystanders on the Way to the Cross

All this time, Peter was sitting out in the courtyard. One servant girl came up to him and said, “You were with Jesus the Galilean.” (Matthew 26:69, The Message Bible)

                When I am among strangers, I, sometimes, find it awkward when someone asks what I do/did for a living. It’s not that I am ashamed of being a Baptist minister but this “confession” can often lead to some awkward conversations. 

I can almost see the person mentally reflecting on the last few minutes of our conversation and wondering whether they have said anything inappropriate or offensive. Or it puts them on the defensive, admitting that they are not very religious, but are spiritual. Or they feel they have to explain why they don’t go to church. Or they might ask me some arcane “religious” question. Or worse, their eyes glaze over, and they quickly end the conversation and go find someone else to talk to.

I know we Christians are to be visibly active when living our faith but sometimes, especially when the Church, pastors or Christians are acting badly, it would be simpler to remain anonymous.

Nothing to see here. Please move along.

The slave girl to the High Priest (which raises some moral issues all on its own) recognized Peter in the crowd and calls him out as a follower of Jesus. She is a nobody, a slave, someone Jesus himself might have recognized, conversed with, included in his ministry of compassion. But Peter was having nothing to do with her.

He went to the courtyard where Jesus’ trial was taking place, perhaps intending some act of heroism or valour. After all, he once swore that “Even if everyone else deserts you, I will never desert you” or “Even if I have to die with you, I will never deny you!”  (Matthew 26:33,35, NLT) Yet Matthew says Peter snuck into the courtyard and tried to melt into the crowd, and “waited to see how it would all end.” (Matthew 26:58, NLT) And denied Jesus, he certainly did.

The mere attention of a slave girl sets him quivering in his sandals. It gets worse as other bystanders pick up the girl’s accusation. “A little later some of the other bystanders came over to Peter and said, ‘You must be one of them; we can tell by your Galilean accent.’” (26: 73) Everyone, all the bystanders, are now looking at Peter, to see what he would do. He could have stood by Jesus but instead he lets out an angry, profane tirade of denial, distancing himself as far as he could from Jesus.

Strangers, neighbours, friends, even family, outsiders look at us and they associate us with Jesus. Our “accents” – love, compassion, grace, forgiveness, etc. – should give us away.  Others have high expectations of us, sometimes unrealistically even. Nevertheless, Jesus once said the world will know that we are his followers by our love.

It should not be a secret that we are followers of Jesus. We should not hide in the shadows. We should not deflect our discipleship with the profanity of the world. It doesn’t mean we are to be pompous, sanctimonious zealots. But we are to confess Jesus Christ, especially by our actions and behaviour. Bystanders are watching us, wondering, asking, pointing fingers and making claims or accusations about our Christian activities and our association with Jesus.

What are you and I going to do when the eyes of others are upon us?

            “If you love me, show it by doing what I’ve told you.” (John 14: 15, The Message)

             And they will know we are Christians by our love.

 Dale