Wednesday, March 16, 2022: Lent Three – The Peter Principle

Peter, suddenly bold, said, “Master, if it’s really you, call me to come to you on the water.” (Matthew 14:28, The Message Bible)

                 Have you ever had that sinking feeling deep down in your soul?

                Peter did.

                We can only speculate why, in the first place, Peter wanted to get out of the boat and walk on water like Jesus. The Message’s “suddenly bold” describes Peter in a nutshell – impetuous, audacious, impulsive, arrogant, ambitious, proud but always a step away from failure and disappointment. Perhaps, he wanted to show-up his fellow disciples cowering in the storm-driven boat. Maybe, he wanted to prove himself to Jesus. Maybe, he was thinking that if Jesus can do it, so can he. Perhaps, he believed he had all the faith that he needed to trust in Jesus or, maybe, it was a test of Jesus’ power, “if it is you…”

Whatever, Peter stepped onto the water, came toward Jesus, “but when he looked down at the waves churning beneath his feet, he lost his nerve and started to sink.” (Matthew 14:30, The Message.)

Oops! Not as easy as it looks.

At least he tried. But Jesus was apparently not impressed by the effort and accused Peter of having little faith. “Faint-heart, what got into you?” (v.31)

I need to make a confession at this point. I have often puzzled over the whole “if you have the faith of a mustard seed you can move mountains” thinking. It has always bothered me when so called well-meaning Christians will say to someone in the midst of a crisis, “If you only had more faith” then this or that wouldn’t have happed. Or if you only had more faith then your prayers would have been answered. If you only had more faith then a loved one might have been cured. “If you only had more faith” is a heavy burden to lay on a person’s shoulders.

How do you measure faith, anyway? Is it quantitative or qualitative? Is there a faith thermometer that can take the temperature of one’s faith?  Is there is measuring cup that portions out the exact right amount of faith needed in one’s recipe for discipleship?

In anyone’s hands but Jesus’, the statement that you or I might not have enough faith comes out as judgmental, belittling, demeaning and accusatory. It is never up to us to judge someone else’s faith.

Yet, we all can identify with Peter in this critical moment when doubts creep in, when we are wondering how we got ourselves into this predicament, wondering why we are failing,  and, yes, wondering why our faith is not sufficient.

    We get that sinking feeling.

    “God, God, save me!
    I’m in over my head,
    Quicksand under me, swamp water over me;
    I’m going down for the third time.
    I’m hoarse from calling for help,
    Bleary-eyed from searching the sky for God.” (Psalm 69: 1 -3, The Message)

                But the Good News is that Jesus did not abandon Peter as he was beginning to flail in the deep waters. As soon as he saw Peter floundering, he quickly reached out his hand and pulled Peter back into the boat. Jesus reaches out to any of us who needs a helping hand to get through the storms and upsets, the losses and failures, the disappointments and setbacks. He would like us to learn from our mistakes, but that comes after he pulls us up and out of harm’s way.

                Perhaps, the best act of faith in this story was Peter simply reaching out for the hand of Jesus.

                Often, the most honest words we can say when we have that sinking feeling are found elsewhere in the Gospels: “I do believe, but help me overcome my unbelief!” (Mark 9:24, New Living Translation)

Jesus, please throw me a life-line!

Dale

Wednesday, March 9, 2022 – Lent Two: The Peter Principle

“God himself, let you in on this secret of who I really am. And now I’m going to tell you who you are, really are. You are Peter, a rock. This is the rock on which I will put together my church, a church so expansive with energy that not even the gates of hell will be able to keep it out.”  (Matthew 16: 17 -18, The Message Bible)

                 I have been reading a book lately in which the author,  Joe Polanski, lists his personal list of the top 100 baseball players of all time.  Baseball players have great nick names: Babe, Scooter, Hammerin’ Hank, Cool Papa, Yogi, The Kid, Dizzy, Catfish, etc. If you are a baseball fan like me, you might be able to fill in the last names of those baseball stars by just reading their nick names.

                Jesus hung quite the moniker on his disciple, Silas, now to be forever known as Peter or The Rock (not to be confused with the pro wrestler The Rock). This came with a lot of expectations, hopes and responsibilities for Peter. He gets the keys to the kingdom and guards the doors of heaven, apparently. His confession that Jesus is the Messiah (v.15) has put Peter at the forefront of Jesus’ mission to build the kingdom of God

                But let us not get carried away just yet. Peter was sometimes more crumbling shale than a rock of granite. He could be and was more often standing on rocky ground than building his foundation of faith and discipleship on solid rock. There were times his resolve sank like a stone when confronted with conflicts and trust issues.  There were times when his path in following Jesus was a rocky road, or like seed which fell on rocky ground, struggling to flourish and bear fruit.

                But I am sure that Jesus understood all this about Peter. He saw past the cracks in the stone and  gave Peter, the Rock,  the lead role in his master plan of building the Kingdom. Jesus saw the potential, the possibilities, the gifts, the strengths in Peter and gave Peter the somewhat, for sure, ironic title The Rock.

                There are some characteristics of being a rock which are not part of this mode of discipleship. Being a rock doesn’t mean being an unmoveable object, for instance, or an impenetrable, unassailable cold, hard presence in the world. I recall the Simon and Garfunkel song:

    I've built walls
    A fortress deep and mighty
    That none may penetrate
    I have no need of friendship, friendship causes pains
    It's laughter and it's loving I disdain

    I am a rock,  I am an island
A rock feels no pain. And an island never cries.

                Yes, to be a rock means to stand firm in our faith, to know with assurance our core values, and to maintain our integrity when it comes to following Jesus. It doesn’t mean being stubborn, cold, aloof, or unfeeling but to be aware of the flow of life around us and not be swept away  in the currents of culture or fear or worry or distress or the news or pandemics. It is not so much that we are rocks but rather we stand on the Rock.

                Hear Jesus’ words: “These words I speak to you are not incidental additions to your life, homeowner improvements to your standard of living. They are foundational words, words to build a life on. If you work these words into your life, you are like a smart carpenter who built his house on solid rock. Rain poured down, the river flooded, a tornado hit—but nothing moved that house. It was fixed to the rock.”  (Matthew 7: 24 -25, The Message Bible)

                Jesus looks past all that might make you or me a curious choice for his Kingdom project. We’ve got stones in our shoes that causes us to limp after Jesus. But he places his blessing upon us and calls us into his service. He believes that you and I have something to offer, something to give, something to accomplish.

And you know the old saying, a rolling stone gathers no moss.

 Dale

Wednesday, March 2, 2022 – Ash Wednesday/Lent One – The Peter Principle

“Simon Peter, when he saw it, fell to his knees before Jesus. “Master, leave. I’m a sinner and can’t handle this holiness. Leave me to myself.” (Luke 5:8 The Message Bible)

                Let us walk along side the disciple, Peter, this Lenten season.

                In 1969, Laurence J. Peter wrote a book entitled The Peter Principle. The basic premise was that an employed person is promoted based on their previous job success until they reach their level of incompetence, as skills in one job do not necessarily work at the higher level. Peter, the disciple to whom the keys of the kingdom were bestowed, seems to fit that description. He can be audacious and a strong-willed follower of Jesus, one moment, and an abject failure the next moment. The story of Peter in the Gospels is a roller coaster of faith, love, obedience and reveals the full gamut of the highs and lows of following Jesus.

                Why does that matter? Because Simon Peter is you and me. Some days – a rock; other days sifting sand.

                It begins at water’s edge after a futile night of fishing. Peter and his partners are weary and disappointed as their livelihood depends on a good catch of fish and they caught nothing. Jesus appears and commandeers Peter’s boat to preach from. After the sermon, Jesus dares Peter to go out into deeper water and continue to fish.  Wearily, Peter agrees and they catch so much fish that the other boats had to come to aid in reeling them in.

                Peter is dumb-founded. He understands enough that he has just witnessed something incredible.  What does he want to do? Get as far away from Jesus as he can. This man might be dangerous. He is strange. He is more than Peter can deal with. He is something else!

                “Master, leave. I’m a sinner and can’t handle this holiness. Leave me to myself.”

                We see the struggle of faith right off the get-go. One minute, Peter is willing to obey Jesus by going into deeper water despite his weariness and his spirit of futility and, the next minute, Peter wants to put as much distance as he possibly can between himself and Jesus. “Leave me to myself.”       

                Perhaps he thinks the grace of a full boat comes with another kind of “catch” and Jesus will demand something of him in return. So, if he declares himself a sinner and therefore not worthy of Jesus’ attention, not admirable enough to be of any help or use, not creditable enough or suitable enough to be attractive for Jesus’ purposes, then he has created the necessary space, the gap, between himself and Jesus. And he can go about his business – of being just plain old Simon Peter the fisherman.

                But he is exactly whom Jesus is looking for – a sinner, full of imperfect humanity.  Here is someone who has potential, who can learn to obey, trust, come along-side, and discover Jesus’ Lordship.

                Lent begins a journey of a renewed self-awareness of our human shortcomings. We are all sinners. We can’t get away from that reality. But it is a shame when we can’t get past that reality, when people believe that they are not redeemable, not worthy of the grace of God, not acceptable of any mercy and forgiveness, not suitable to be in the presence of holiness. Leave me alone. Go away.  I am what I am and I can’t change; I won’t change, not for you, Lord, not for anybody.

                Jesus sees through our veneer of our sin and goes deeper himself into the soul and spirit of each of us and pulls out a disciple, a follower, a companion, a learner, a friend, a brave heart and seeks to begin to build his kingdom with such as us.

Sin doesn’t pull us apart from Jesus but draws us deeper together into his fellowship, into his Love, into his forgiveness and compassion, into his service.

                Lent reminds us of our sinfulness but it should also remind us that Jesus doesn’t take “No” i.e. sin, as an answer.

Dale      

Wednesday, February 23, 2022

“But those who drink the water I give will never be thirsty again. It becomes a fresh, bubbling spring within them, giving them eternal life.” (John 4:14, New Living Translation)

                Do I have a deal for you!

                Susan showed me an ad for a “Holy Water – Touchless Automatic Dispenser.” Apparently, in our hands-off, no-touch, social distancing world we need a way to get our holy water safely and conveniently. No fuss, no muss. “Simply place your fingertips under the dispenser and drops of Holy Water will be dispensed.”  Up to five droplets. All very sanitary and hygienic. It can be mounted on a wall; comes with 4 AA batteries and “lasts months”. By the way, “Holy water is not included.” C’mon people, there are some things you still a need good priest or bishop for. (But I am surprised that no one has thought of adding a coin slot for a little church fund-raising.)

                The custom of sprinkling Holy Water dates back, by some accounts, to the first century A.D. and the apostle Matthew and others point to an early 5^th century document, “Apostolic Constitutions”. But we also know that water has long had significance for purification and atonement rituals in Jewish and other faith traditions, even pre-Christianity. The use of Holy Water in some Christian traditions is a reminder of one’s baptism but can also be received as a blessing and, in some cases, as a sacrament for protection from evil. That’s a lot of pressure for a few drops of water.

                Now some may think that this is superstitious mumbo-jumbo. But I think that if someone finds comfort, assurance, peace, security or blessing in such a simple act, then who are we to quibble? Besides, we Baptists, need more than a few droplets of water to get the job done. We need a whole tank of water or a lake or a swimming pool and then a plunge into the waters, needing a full bath to get ourselves blessed enough. It’s a wonder we don’t throw in a good scrub brush and some lye soap.  Maybe Peter had a point, when after Jesus had begun to wash the disciples’ feet, first objecting, then when Jesus corrected him, he exclaimed, “Then wash my hands and head as well, Lord, not just my feet!” (John 13:9, NLT)

                Jesus is not a Touchless Automatic Dispenser of Holy Water. He is hands on, always one to touch and hold, to hug and embrace and express his Lordship in tangible, physical ways. He did not stand away from lepers, tax-collectors, prostitutes and the like, but broke bread with them, healed many with his touch and thereby closed the distance between God and sinner.

                When the beleaguered Samaritan woman was astounded that Jesus, a Jewish male, was asking her for a drink of water, he said to her, “If you only knew the gift God has for you and who you are speaking to, you would ask me, and I would give you living water.” (John 4:10) The love of Jesus washes over all in this story, even the most distant outlier, the lost and the forgotten, the unwashed of the world and the so-called unclean and the down and dirty. And oh, yes – you and me!

                There it is – true Holy Water for each and every one of us.

                He stoops to wash us clean with his grace, mercy, forgiveness, and the love of God flows through him and over us. “O the deep, deep love of Jesus, vast, unmeasured, boundless, free! Rolling as a mighty ocean in its fullness over me.”

                This is Holy Water at its best!

                “Let us go right into the presence of God with sincere hearts fully trusting him. For our guilty consciences have been sprinkled with Christ’s blood to make us clean, and our bodies have been washed with pure water.” (Hebrews 10:22, NLT)

Dale

Wednesday, February 16, 2022

“Anyone who claims to live in God’s light and hates a brother or sister is still in the dark. It’s the person who loves brother and sister who dwells in God’s light and doesn’t block the light from others. But whoever hates is still in the dark, stumbles around in the dark, doesn’t know which end is up, blinded by the darkness.”  (1 John 2: 9 -11, The Message Bible)

                “Hate” is a four-letter word and has been banned from use.

                At least, in the Costa household where my five-year-old grandson, Spencer, resides. In fact, Spencer is the resident rule enforcer and promptly calls one out if the banned word is used. I happened to say, “I hate driving on the Highway 401.” Spencer nudges his mother and tells on me for using the word. I was reading him a story on the weekend and the word “hate” was used in a sentence. He stopped my reading and pointed out my egregious error. I asked what was I supposed to do as it was right there in the text, in black and white.  “Change it”, he said matter-of-factly.

                It has made me think just how effortlessly, casually and frequently we tend to use the word “hate” in many contexts. Katie and Gary, Spencer’s parents, place a very high value on inclusivity, non-judgmentalism and acceptance. Their ban on the word reflects how they see the word being used against others who are different and therefore hated through acts of prejudice, racism, sexism, etc.

                There are many activities we may say we hate: going to the dentist, shovelling snow, getting up in the morning, Brussel sprouts (which I actually like), getting a speeding ticket, having to wait in a line up, and many, many more. Mostly trivial, although irritating. We deal with  these things and they don’t really determine our lives’ well-being.

                But when hatred turns to feelings of constant detesting, deeply ingrained loathing, or continuous abhorring and focusing those hard feelings against others, hatred becomes an impediment to healthy living.

                Right now, hatred has never been more prevalent. We are deeply divided, intolerant, blinkered. We are quick to say we hate politicians, truckers, scientists, doctors, liberals, conservatives, LGTBQ, straights, pro-lifers, free choice-ers, etc. It is mismanaged and misguided hatred that leads to acting out this hatred in opposition to anything or everyone which doesn’t fit yours or my standards. If you and I disagree, will we end up hating each other? “It’s going to be brother killing brother, father killing child, children killing parents. There’s no telling who will hate you because of me.”  (Mark 13: 12 -13, The Message)

                I am not sure how Spencer would like me to handle the word “hate” when it appears in scriptures which it does frequently enough, so as to be noticed. Just check out the Psalms where it is regularly said that God hates evil and those who do evil. Some of the Psalms express a strong hatred for others who do the writers wrong, even wanting revenge or punishment. “Rise up, O God, and scatter your enemies. Let those who hate God run for their lives.” (Psalm 68:1, New Living Translation)

                But we need to be very wise and cautious in our use of the word. Jesus seeks out better alternatives to hatred: “But to you who are willing to listen, I say, love your enemies! Do good to those who hate you.” (Luke 6: 27, NLT) Paul includes hatred in a list of wrong-sided living: “Their lives became full of every kind of wickedness, sin, greed, hate, envy, murder, quarreling, deception, malicious behavior, and gossip.” (Romans 1: 29, NLT) Although there is a somewhat ironical twist in the use of the word later in the epistle: “Don’t just pretend to love others. Really love them. Hate what is wrong. Hold tightly to what is good.” (Romans 12:9, NLT) It is OK to “love justice and hate evil.” (Hebrews 1:9, NLT)

                To follow Jesus, it is best to forego hatred, period. We should be seeking the good in others, not their worst characteristic’s and then hating them because they are different from us. Being different does not make someone evil or bad.  But hatred will always divide us, get in the way of reconciliation, confound peace, disrupt authentic communication, demolish relationships, and befoul the world in which we live.

                Spencer it right. Change the word. And we just might change the narrative, altogether.

 Dale

 Wednesday, February 9, 2022

So the Pharisees and teachers of religious law asked him, “Why don’t your disciples follow our age-old tradition? They eat without first performing the hand-washing ceremony.” Jesus replied, “You hypocrites! Isaiah was right when he prophesied about you, for he wrote, ‘These people honor me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me. Their worship is a farce, for they teach man-made ideas as commands from God.’ For you ignore God’s law and substitute your own tradition.” (Mark 7: 5 -8, New Living Translation)

                “Tradition is a wonderful guide but a terrible taskmaster.”

                I came across this adage a few days ago. It has stuck in my mind ever since. I was sure that some great teacher or philosopher or religious saint had said it or penned it. But my research found no exact rendition. The closest I came was W. Somerset Maugham’s “Tradition is a guide, not a jailor.”  Although I did also find some pithy sayings that allude to much the same thing. E.g. “Tradition is peer pressure from the dead.” A tad harsh, I think.

                Tradition is not necessarily or always a bad thing. As the first saying states, tradition can be a wonderful guide. It maintains and keeps the things that are worth treasuring. It shapes our current wisdom, customs, behaviours, thinking. “Tradition is not the worship of ashes, but the preservation of fire.” (G. Mahler) Tradition can be the tried and true. Traditions can keep chaos and disorder at bay. It tells the narrative of the past and how previous generations succeeded and prevailed. We need those stories to inspire us today.

                But when tradition becomes buried and mired in the past and becomes remote from relevance and usefulness, then it deserves criticism and reform. If tradition becomes rote or thoughtless practice, an excuse to ignore the world and its injustices around us, then tradition is of no heavenly value and no earthly good. When we forget the why behind what we are doing and simply engage in friendly routines, ruts and habits simply out of duty, convenience, or stubbornness, perhaps it has become time to re-evaluate our behaviour, practices and observations and stretch our imaginations a little.

                “The human soul can always use a new tradition. Sometimes we require them.” (Pat Conroy)

                I could not help but think of the encounter between Jesus and the Pharisees as I pondered about tradition being a wonderful guide but a terrible taskmaster.

We should remind ourselves that Jesus had affirmed the traditions of the scriptures: “Don’t suppose for a minute that I have come to demolish the Scriptures—either God’s Law or the Prophets. I’m not here to demolish but to complete. I am going to put it all together, pull it all together in a vast panorama. God’s Law is more real and lasting than the stars in the sky and the ground at your feet. Long after stars burn out and earth wears out, God’s Law will be alive and working.”  (Matthew 5: 17 -28, The Message Bible)

                But this is not to say that Jesus was stuck in the old molds of faith. He brought a fresh interpretation, refreshed the relevance of these ancient words and brought new insights and had a lively engagement with the texts that brought the best out of the tradition.

                The Pharisees appear stuck in the rules and rigid interpretation of the rules. They judged, ostracized and condemned others if they did not follow these unyielding, traditional rules and rituals based on the rules (i.e. tradition), although, as Jesus points out, these traditions were mostly human-made and very little to do with God’s world of grace and mercy. Tradition had become a barrier to intimacy with God and his Kingdom.

                We may not think we are tradition-bound but I challenge us to reflect on how we judge others based on skin colour, sexuality, race, religion and see that old stereotypes still have a grip. Think about how automatically we jump to conclusions about situations and judge others based on our upbringing and cultural influences. Consider how comfortable we have become with the status quo rather than rethink our positions and assumptions. Have we become so rigid, so stuck, so unchangeable, so entrenched in the past that we fail to allow the Holy Spirit to knock us off our anchored moorings and point us in the direction of all that Jesus is and can be and wants us to be.

                “But now we have been released from the law, for we died to it and are no longer captive to its power. Now we can serve God, not in the old way of obeying the letter of the law, but in the new way of living in the Spirit.” (Romans 7:6, NLT)

                Perhaps, it’s time to start a new tradition.

 

Dale

Wednesday, February 2, 2022

“Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; For You are with me; Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.” (Psalm 23: 4 New King James Version)

                 Are you afraid of your own shadow?

                Shadows can be a foreboding experience. Even sinister or menacing. A shadow on an x-ray can cause fear and anxiety. A shadow in an alley way can seem threatening as to whom is lurking there. A shadow of a brewing storm as it blocks the sun is troublesome. Children see monsters in the shadows of a darkening room at bedtime. Many of us worry at shadows about the things we face and loom in the days ahead.

                The cynical writer of Ecclesiastes wonders: “In the few days of our meaningless lives, who knows how our days can best be spent? Our lives are like a shadow. Who can tell what will happen on this earth after we are gone?” (Ecclesiastes 6:12, New Living Translation)

                The last two years and more have been overshadowed by the Covid pandemic. It has affected everything we do or want to do. It has coloured our attitudes, masked our optimism, woven its shadows in every corner of our lives. For many, it has felt like the valley of the shadow of death.  We are exhausted from living with it, tired of hearing about it, and weary of fearing it. But its shadow is not easily being dispersed. “Our days on earth are as fleeting as a shadow.” (Job 8:9, NLT)

                The good news is that we are not alone as we walk through the valley of the shadow of death. A new meaning of shadow takes shape in the gloom and darkness. “How precious is your unfailing love, O God! All humanity finds shelter in the shadow of your wings.” (Psalm 36: 7, NLT)

                The comforting imagery of being under the protective aegis of our God scatters the shadows of threat and peril. “Have mercy on me, O God, have mercy! I look to you for protection. I will hide beneath the shadow of your wings until the danger passes by.” (Psalm 57:1, NLT)

                Respite. Sanctuary. Haven. Peace. All are experienced when we find our security in God and his grace and love.

                Picture a mother bird protecting her fledglings in her nest. Against predators. Against storms. Against starvation. Putting herself at risk. “He will cover you with his feathers. He will shelter you with his wings. His faithful promises are your armor and protection.” (Psalm 91:4, NLT)

                Under the protective shadow of God’s Love we  then see the world in a different light, ironically. “And for those who lived in the land where death casts its shadow, a light has shined.” (Matthew 4: 16, NLT) It has been said, “It is only through shadows that one comes to know the light.” (St. Catherine of Sienna) As we wait under God’s care, we are given the strength, courage, aptitude and spirit to face those threatening shadows because we know that God is with us. God has not forgotten us. God does not leave us in the dark. God does not throw us away into the darkness. God seeks to break through the shadows, “to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, and to guide us to the path of peace.”  (Luke 1:79, NLT)

                “There he will remove the cloud of gloom, the shadow of death that hangs over the earth.” (Isaiah 25: 7, NLT)

                Sounds good to me!          

Dale