Top Ten Things to Learn from the book of Job

Readings: Job 1:1-22; Job 38:1-11; Luke 8: 22-25

10. Job contradicts Proverbs.  The writer of Proverbs offers the hope and consolation that people who live wisely and faithfully, according to the will of God, will flourish and prosper. The very first chapter of Job says: it ain’t necessarily so. You may well live righteously and with great integrity and, still, terrible things may happen. A faithful life is not an automatic buffer to calamity. Due to this contradiction between the books, both of which are categorized as wisdom literature, we are reminded of all those who have gone before us who tried to make the Bible speak with one voice. It doesn’t. The Bible has many voices, some of which are quite dissonant together, but they sing one song about the presence and providence of God. 

9. Job is an old story, but a young book, relatively speaking. Since Job doesn’t mention Abraham or Moses or the laws or the Temple, some interpreters have considered it the oldest story in the Bible. Not, of course, older than the creation story, but a story that predates the famous men of the Hebrew scripture because otherwise they would surely be mentioned. The story of human suffering is timeless, but vocabulary isn’t. We can tell from the written forms of Job- its style and word choices that it is probably from after the exile (post-exilic), between the years 540-330 BCE, in the Persian period. 

Discerning why bad things happen to good people would have been a significant item of contemplation following both Assyrian and Babylonian exiles, even though there were many prophets who explained to the people what the consequences of their choices would be. Innocent people suffered alongside those who committed wrongdoing. 

8. In Job, the Satan is not who you think it is. At the time of writing, Satan was not a proper name, it was a title- Ha Satan. The first chapter of the book tells us about the being who hold the title, ha Satan, or the Adversary. In the first chapter, the Satan functions like a prosecutor or challenger, perhaps to people and to God. Job gives us a complicated, and indigestion-inducing, picture of the Satan as a member of God’s heavenly council, with an advisory role. This does not line up with later images or understandings we have regarding the forces that oppose God. The role of the Satan here is upsetting and frustrating. Why don’t we know more about this character? The Bible gives us what we need, and it does not give what we do not need. We do not need to know more about the Satan than they are the adversary. That’s all we need to know for interpreting Job and, frankly, all we need to know for our daily lives. Where people and actions oppose the will of God, the adversary is likely at work- sometimes actively and sometimes passively. The Satan is active in causing Job’s suffering. The Satan is passive in watching humans make bad choices all by themselves, which lead to situations of grief, suffering, and destruction. 

7. We don’t have a good answer as to why bad things happen to good people. Why would God enter into a bargain with the adversary? How do you know God did? There is no heavenly court reporter who sends down transcripts of holy shorthand for people to interpret and know for certain what happens in the heavenly realms. The celestial scenes of Job come from someone’s holy imagination. The writer cannot say that God caused the suffering of God’s own accord because that violates what will be revealed in the end about the nature of God. The writer cannot imply God does not know about the suffering. The best the writer of Job can do is imply that God permits but pays close attention. This is still somewhat unsatisfactory, but the best of the available options. 

6. Don’t be a bad friend. Job has 42 chapters. Chapters 1-2 are the prologue and set up what happens to Job. God starts talk to Job in chapter 38. Chapters 3-37, so thirty-four chapters, have a very specific aim. These chapters teach how not to be a bad friend in a time of suffering. Job’s friends, Eliphaz, Bildad, and Zophar, start out well- sitting with him in his grief. This is the right thing to do. Then they start to talk. Eliphaz is certain that Job must have sinned, since God is always righteous. Job has brought his suffering upon himself, according to Eliphaz, and if he confesses, things will improve. 
Bildad thinks similarly but tells Job that divine justice is always clear. If one suffers, says Bildad, God’s retribution is obvious. Bildad notes that Job’s children must have sinned and so had Job. 
Zophar tells Job that his suffering is less that what he deserves since God is righteous, justice-minded, AND merciful. Zophar urges Job to repent before the suffering becomes worse because why should God hold back forever. 
When God eventually speaks, God excoriates these three friends for talking about what they do not know. So not only did they increase Job’s pain, but they also weren’t even right. In your friend’s time of suffering, show up and shut up. Do not speak about what you do not know. Do not make it worse. 

5. A lot of wise-sounding words and quoting of Bible passages can still be wrong. After the three friends, a young man, Elihu, comes. Elihu does not believe Job's suffering is necessarily punishment for sin, but rather a way for God to correct, teach, and purify the soul. He asserts that God is not obligated to explain His actions to humans and that suffering can be a means of spiritual growth. When someone is suffering, they do not want to learn about how their soul might be being corrected. They need casseroles, coffee, and company- not philosophical reflections. God says Elihu also was speaking out of his… elbow (not the place of wisdom). 

4. God cares about the fullness of creation. When God finally addresses Job, God points to the wide spectrum of all that is and tells Job that everything that exists is part of the Divine awareness. There are not small things happening in the depths of the sea or in the crevices of mountains about which God does not know. Not only is God aware of all these things, but God also cares about them. Job has not languished outside of God’s compassion. God provides for all of creation, including the long-suffering Job. God does not delight in pain, but in the ordered functioning of everything the Holy has put into place. God’s on-going work within all of creation is to restore order where disorder has occurred because of the adversary, because of sin, because of the forces of this world that oppose God’s designs and will. 

3. God does not create drama in order to be a hero. Even with Job in hand, as disciples of Christ, our clearest revelation of God’s way of being in the world is through Jesus. If we are unsure about how God operates, we look to the life of Christ for clarity. If we believe that God creates suffering in order to heal it, then we would say that Jesus made the storm in order to calm it. Remember Jesus is God. Would you ever say that Jesus made people hungry in order to feed them? Let their bodies be broken in order to heal them? Let demons run rampant just to exorcise them? Regardless of human interpretation through the ages, it does not make sense for God to create pain in order to reveal holiness like a superhero. Jesus shows forth God’s power and compassion, mercy and inclusion, justice and peace. If Jesus wouldn’t, God doesn’t. If Jesus did, God does.

2. Lament and honest prayer help. Job grieves. Job gets angry with God. Job is frustrated. Job prays everything he feels. He is not punished for his honesty. The most obvious tools can be the most helpful. Do not neglect them. 

1.  If you don’t know, admit it, but when you do know, speak up. Many times, people have told me, “I didn’t know what to say, so I didn’t say anything.” It is indeed better to remain silent than to turn out to be one of Job’s friends and to speak wrongly about God. There are many things, however, that can be said that we trust are true about God- what has been shown forth in creation, through the healing words of the prophets, through Jesus, through the Spirit’s sustaining of the community of Christ, through faithful people today. You will not be a bad friend to someone or to Jesus when you speak of God’s love (1 John 4:8), God’s mercy (Psalm 103:8), God’s inclusion (Galatians 3:28), God’s provision (Matthew 6:26), God’s power (all the resurrection stories), and God’s abiding presence (Romans 8:38-39). God’s words to Job remind us that God’s knowledge and ways are not our knowledge and ways, which is a blessing for everyone. 
Job is a wisdom book, not necessarily giving us tidbits for how to live or how to be smarter, but granting us a bigger picture of a God who knows more than we can imagine and is present in height and depth and breadth greater than our comprehension. This was the good news for Job, even before the restoration of his life, and it is the good news for us and all people. May our words and our lives reflect our faith in this truth. Amen. 

While to That Rock I'm Clinging (Epiphany 2025)

I recently read a book that contained this line, “God can only be drilled out of us, not into us. I can see that now, from a distance.” God can only be drilled out of us, not into us. The author was discussing the griefs and losses of her life, but also her awareness of the larger scope of the movement and power that carries us all, even in the difficult seasons. You do not survive these seasons by thinking there is no God unless the idea of a God who cares, who is slow to anger, who is abounding in steadfast love has been drilled out of you. 

How does the idea of God get “drilled out of a person”? In today’s scripture passages, we have an example of people who have held on to the majesty and mystery of God, even in times of trouble. Then we also have a person whose awareness of the Divine has been drilled out by a desire to retain power and worldly influence. 

The magi or wise men were probably Persian astrologers or maybe Zoroastrian priests from the same region, modern-day Iran. They watched the stars and other natural phenomena for signs of what was happening in the world. When we say, “they followed a star”, what we typically mean is that they observed an unusual astronomical event and connected it to the constellation in which it was formed. The “star” gave them the understanding of where to start looking for a new king in the world. 

While we do not know how many magi there actually were, we can assume that these are people who had full lives. They had family members die. They made prophecies or predictions that didn’t pan out. They were affected by the decisions of their governments and the rulers of city-states around them.  They had been through droughts, floods, crop failures, animal losses, and financial difficulties. Yet they were still open to seeing the Divine in the world around them. Despite hardships, their awareness of the power of holiness was not drilled out of them. Instead, their understanding of might and majesty carried them through the difficulties, such that they were still able to trust in signs and wonders. The appearing of the sign that led them to Jesus was not the first epiphany of their life, it was in a long line of ways that the power of God had been demonstrated to them. 

Similarly, the author of Isaiah 60 trusts in God’s power and providence, even in a time of pain. This author is writing to the community of Judah, returning from the Babylonian exile to a destroyed Jerusalem. He is not giving false cheer to those who will receive his words. Instead, he is crafting a narrative of inspiration and guidance rooted in the hope of God’s full restoration. Such a restoration will begin with a rejuvenation of the people’s joy and then a restored Jerusalem that will draw people from other nations to the glory of the Lord. The pain of exile has not drilled faith in God’s presence out of this prophet. Rather, a deep awareness of that presence has sustained him through the trials. 

Neither the writer of Isaiah 60 nor the Persian magi many generations later expect lives without suffering. They have accepted that this world is not what it should be or what it will be, but even in the middle of all that is not right, God is still good. God is still providing. God is sustaining. God is revealing compassion, mercy, and justice- even if it takes a while from the human perspective. 

On the other hand, Herod the Great seems to have had trust in God drilled out of him. Even though he rebuilt parts of and greatly expanded the Temple in Jerusalem and he identified himself religiously as a Jew, he did many things that show how he valued his own understanding of the world over the mystery of God. In order to gain and retain his power, he made alliances with Roman leaders, often against his closer neighbors. He had members of his family killed when they threatened his power and operations. He was unfamiliar with scripture and reacted strongly to information he perceived to be detrimental to his reign, namely the slaughter of children he thought might be this “new king” whom the magi sought. 

Herod had a vision of success for himself and for Judea. As far as we can tell, he did not pause to think or meditate on whether his image aligned with God’s will for him or for the region. Herod wanted the power that the world offered and made his choices accordingly. In order to achieve and retain that type of power, God’s truth had to be edged out- further and further from the center of Herod’s mind and heart. If any awareness of the Divine remained, it was a tiny flame in the corner of his mind, occasionally demanding that scribes or priests affirm his decisions, rather than help him seek the correct ones. 

God is often drilled out of lives in our own time in the same way. People seek confirmation of what they want to do, rather than spend time discerning the will of God. If the will of God puts us out of step with what we consider the right thing according to our traditions, habits, beliefs, or understanding, we manipulate what we need to in order to assure ourselves of correct understanding and action. 

Worse, God is often drilled out of us in our times of trouble. Having come to expect God to function as a holy vending machine, (we put in prayers and get out the requested item), we flounder when things are painful or difficult or beyond the worst thing we could have imagined. We blame God and we slowly drift away from a Creator who, in our minds, failed to stop these horrors from happening. 

The author of Isaiah 60 and the magi saw the Holy as the power that sustained them in times of trouble. Their visions of hope and a future were not toxic positivity- “Everything will turn out fine”. Those visions were, instead, the rock to which they clung when everything else was sinking sand. They did not console themselves with the idea that “everything happens for a reason”. Instead, they refused to let the events of the world drill out of them the faith that God is bigger, more gracious, more generous, and more merciful than anything that could occur to them or around them. 

Herod believed everything happened for a reason. And he was the reason. When there was a threat to his power or his influence or his belongings, Herod happened. There was no room for Divine mystery or holy awe in the world that he was trying to tightly control. His self-understanding left no room for the expansion of the gift of faith in God. Herod, like so many others, didn’t seek to stop believing in God. He just didn’t have room for him in the midst of everything he believed was more important. 

The start of a new calendar year often invites us into deep reflection. We think about how we want the next season of our life to look, what do we want it to contain, how do we want it to play out. In this contemplation, the Holy Spirit reminds us to make and hold space for how God will be revealed to us, in us, and through us in this season. How is the love of Christ compelling us to show up for others? What are we being urged to learn, to let go, or to let come? Are we part of how God’s presence is being revealed in the world, or do we have a hand in how God’s truth is being drilled out? 

It is important to remember that Herod was constantly engaged in rebuilding the Temple, an action that outwardly appeared devotional, but was actually about power. Drilling God out of minds and hearts correlates with a desire and effort to be powerful and influential in the eyes of the world, whether in your family, among your friends, toward your neighbors, or throughout the community. Actions that claim to be religious are not necessarily of God unless they clearly and thoughtfully align with God’s revealed actions through history and especially through Jesus. 

In this Epiphany season, which will last to the end of February, pay quiet attention to God’s work all around you. Pray that you may be aligned with it and that we may be aligned together. Let us say yes to the Spirit’s invitation to be a significant part of how the light of the world is revealed to all nations and right here in our own homes. Let us be aware of God’s presence and a sign of that presence to others- part of how the love of the Divine is anchored in this world, a love that cannot drift away. 

Everything We Need Fits in the Manger

Everything we need fits in the manger. 

Everything we need as people… whoever we are, no matter our age, our location, our vocation, our gender, our race, our diagnoses, our political affiliation, our preferred sports team, our griefs, our joys… everything we need fits in the manger. 

This year has been a difficult year for most of us in this room. Almost no family in this community has been untouched by loss. Tight finances, family tensions, unexpected changes, instability in the world, and even random complications in routine procedures have affected all of us. With that level of complexity, we come here on Christmas Eve, wanting the familiar and the comfortable. 

It's also possible that many of us look at the simplicity of the manger and appreciate it only for this moment, an hour or so out of “regular” time, because otherwise, there’s no way it can meet the challenges of our everyday lives. 

Here’s the thing, though. You know me. I have been with you at the funerals this year. Our kids have been playing together. I sat through the same tens of thousands of political ads you did. I prayed for rain, fire suppression, protection of rescue workers, safety, and for healing in the same situations you did. So, I have no reason now to pretend or to lie to you when I need the same good news you do. You’re getting the Christmas message that I need to hear just as much as you- everything I need fits in the manger. 

The manger isn’t just a historical detail in an ancient story – it is a powerful metaphor for how God chooses to meet our deepest human needs. That wooden feedbox, whatever its original size was, holds the infant Christ who reveals God’s presence, provision, and peace. 

First, presence. In the Christmas story, we see God choosing to become present with humanity in the most intimate way possible – by becoming one of us. The manger represents God's desire to meet us where we are, in our messiness and vulnerability. Nothing is more vulnerable or messy than childbirth or, afterward, the baby. 

The reality of God coming into the world as an infant is a powerful reminder that we don't need to clean ourselves up or achieve some level of perfection before we can experience God's presence. God comes to us as we are, where we are. In the manger, we find Christ- God with us- in the same humble state in which we all entered the world. 

God’s willingness to take on the vulnerability of human infancy and the aches and pains of human growth is a witness to how God keeps all the divine promises. A God who is willing to show up like this will always be present in other unexpected and humble ways. The presence of God in the manger is the promise of the presence of God everywhere there is need- in a hospital room, at a dinner table, in the cab of a truck, in a classroom, or in the grocery store.

The manger shows us that God is not uninterested in our lives; God is intimately involved in them. Christ is not far off or distant, but close—close in our suffering, close in our joy, close in our loneliness, and close in our hope.

Now, let's talk about provision. At first glance, a manger might seem like a symbol of lack, not a fancy cradle or even a real bed. In that humble feeding trough, however, lay everything humanity truly needed – a Savior who would provide not just for our physical needs, but for our deepest spiritual longings. The manger teaches us that true provision often comes in unexpected packages and that sometimes, less isn’t really more. Less can be enough.

The manger tells us that God will provide what we need, not necessarily what we want. In the gift of Jesus, God gives us everything we need for life and salvation: the forgiveness of sins, the promise of eternal life, and the hope of a restored relationship with our Creator. In and through Christ, we have everything necessary to live a life of faith, to endure trials, and to be part of how God’s will is done on earth as in heaven.

Jesus is the answer to our deepest hungers—our hunger for purpose, our hunger for peace, our hunger for love. When we focus on how we have to do things for ourselves, we often miss the ways that God does provide for us- people around us who are glad to help, open doors and windows that create opportunities, the ability to focus on one day at a time and see blessings around us. 

Understanding God’s provision does not mean we won’t ever suffer or struggle. I am certain Mary didn’t imagine laying her firstborn child on a bed of straw in a strange house. God’s provision, though, meant that she had a safe place to give birth and revelation of God’s presence in clear and tangible ways through the location, the hospitality, and then the witness of the angels to the shepherds. The same God shows up for us in clear and tangible ways, providing for our needs. 

Finally, the manger reveals God’s peace. Peace isn’t merely the absence of conflict. The original manger was located in an occupied territory of the Roman Empire, whose emperor kept peace by squashing rebellions rather violently. Shortly after Jesus’ birth, Joseph and Mary will have to flee with the infant to Egypt in order to keep him safe from Herod’s slaughter of innocents. 

The peace that comes to us in the manger is a peace for our hearts and minds. In a world constantly clamoring for our attention, bombarding us with messages about what we need to buy, achieve, or become to find happiness, the manger offers a radical alternative. It whispers to us that peace is not found in external circumstances or accomplishments, but in recognizing and embracing the presence of God in our lives.

This peace reminds us that we have been made by God and we are loved by God. This is a truth not only for us, but for all people. When we see the infant prince of peace in the manger, the Spirit stirs us to hear an echo, “With God as our Father, we are family”. With that sense of an enlarged family, we see peace on earth beginning here and continuing through us in words and deeds. 

Pope Francis said, “God never gives someone a gift they are not capable of receiving. If he gives us the gift of Christmas, it is because we all have the ability to understand and receive it.” 

Everything we need fits in the manger and God has made us capable of receiving the gifts that have been provided in love.  

This Christmas, let us ask for our hearts to be opened so that we might receive the peace, provision, and presence that God offers through Jesus. And may the joy of knowing that everything we need can be found in the manger fill us with all hope, joy, and love as we celebrate His birth. 

May God’s peace, provision, and presence be with you always. And when any of those seems far away, no matter the time of year, return to the manger. It all fits right here. Amen.

 

Andrew Jackson, Jesus, and Me

Recently, I needed a haircut. By that, I mean that I suddenly couldn’t tolerate my hair situation (last cut in May), and I wanted a trim RIGHT NOW. I wasn’t even willing to wait for my regular place in my town, but instead looked online where I was to see if I could get it done IMMEDIATELY. 

(If you’re neurotypical, the idea of being unable to wait for a haircut probably seems very odd. All my neuro-spicy folks know what I mean.) 

I went into a place where I knew they probably couldn’t mess up a trim and was the only customer in the place. As I was checking, a woman and a tween (her daughter?) came in behind me. They also checked in and we were seated in side-by-side chairs, probably six feet apart. 

After I had discussed my instantaneous trim needs with the stylist, I was then listening to the other stylist discuss the desired haircut with the tween. She wanted all her hair gone, a dramatic chop! As she spoke with her stylist, she explained why and included that her father had passed away a few days earlier. 

The stylist gasped and offered condolences. She asked what happened. The child said, “Illness”, but the adult (mom?) said, “He lost his battle with depression.”

The stylist offered condolences again and then told a story about loss in her family. I know this was to show understanding and solidarity, but the end result was the mom walking away to examine the product display. When your grief is fresh, you don’t always have the capacity to process other people’s stories or even to receive them graciously. Everything you have is concentrated on keeping yourself going for the people who need you. 

As our haircuts continued in tandem, I listened to the tween talk about hair and then listened to the whisper of the scissors in both our stations. I thought about what I might say to the woman. I knew some good books to offer, and I had colleagues in the location I trusted, if she needed a clergyperson or just someone to listen. 

I also know that, in grief and overwhelm, it can be hard to discern good intentions. Sometimes an encounter with a stranger, no matter how well meaning, is just too much information to process. 

I wanted to do something, anything, that could be helpful, and I felt that I had one choice. As I gathered my things after my cut, I motioned to my stylist that I wanted to pay for both haircuts. I paid, tipped well, and left without saying anything to anyone. 

I have fairly extensive experience in being with people in grief. I am not a stranger to a conversation around the pain and mixed emotions of being left behind after someone completes suic*de. I have worked with children after loss. 

I also know that sometimes words are not the thing. Sometimes silence is the thing. Silence may involve listening. Silence may involve service, even for someone you don’t know. 

That woman expected to pay $20 or so for that haircut, so I don’t think I made a significant financial contribution to her situation. I do think, though, that a paid for haircut could be a tiny bit of hope or comfort in a bleak midwinter. It is enough to know that someone heard her pain and wanted to help a little. And if many people around her help a little, it can change a lot. 

When we treat money as a taboo subject, it means we also don’t discuss what good can come from it. The cost of that haircut wasn’t nothing to me. I have kids. I have bills. I have student debt I’m still paying. It was, however, what I hope someone would do for me or for someone I love in the same situation.

Little generosities, small kindnesses, gentle silent service can make big differences. You don't have to have the right words. It is often enough to just do one small thing.

Andrew Jackson was not Jesus. 

But an Andrew Jackson can do the work of Jesus in a moment. It can dispel a kernel of the shadow of grief. Sometimes that’s all you can do. 

And it is enough.  

The Reign of Christ and the Long Defeat

At one point in The Lord of the Rings, the royal elf Galadriel describes her life and experience and says, “… we have fought the long defeat.” Galadriel, like other elves and the Hobbits and many others, is depicted as being on the right side of things in the books. The Company of the Ring (the Fellowship) wins and defeats the forces of evil. Why would she consider this a “long defeat”? 

Furthermore, why would J.R.R. Tolkien, the author, apply the same term to himself. He wrote in a letter, “Actually, I am a Christian, and indeed a Roman Catholic, so that I do not expect ‘history’ to be anything but a 'long defeat’ – though it contains (and in a legend may contain more clearly and movingly) some samples or glimpses of final victory.” (Letter #195)

Tolkien, a Brit, fought in World War 1. Though he was on the side that “won”, he saw the devastation following the war on all sides- how the “winners” struggled with what they had seen and done and how the “losers” were galvanized to see themselves as “wronged” and regrouped to try again. He watched as people turned away from the long-standing guidance of scripture and religious traditions toward leaders who both preyed on people’s fears and stirred up their basest desires. 

Tolkien's concept of the "Long Defeat" became a theme in his works, especially in The Lord of the Rings and his letters. It refers to the ongoing struggle against overwhelming darkness, evil, or entropy (gradual decline into disorder). Tolkien understood that the battle for what is right may never be completely won but is still fought because of its inherent value. As a Christian, Tolkien, along with his friend C.S. Lewis, believed in the idea of a persistent, noble resistance against forces that may ultimately be too strong to overcome, yet the fight continues because of its moral or existential importance. The fight also continues because the ultimate victory is not in the hands of individual fighters but of God. 

The long defeat is an aspect of the youngest liturgical celebration on our calendar, Christ the King or Reign of Christ Sunday. It originated in the Roman Catholic Church, under the guidance of Pope Pius XI (eleventh) in the year 1925. The solemn observance was held on the Sunday in October, making it not too convenient for Protestants to follow as that’s typically Reformation Sunday. Following Vatican II, however, the observance was moved to the last Sunday of the church year, previously called Judgment Sunday. 

Why would church leaders have felt the need to christen a new church festival in the 1920s and why would it spread across denominations and the world within fifty years? 

In the wake of World War 1, Christian leaders noticed the same issues as Tolkien. They saw that the church no longer had the influence it once had. People did not look to their religious and spiritual practices and leaders to guide them. People looked, instead, charismatic political leaders for inspiration, comfort, and instruction. As these leaders used the vocabulary of the Bible and church history to stir up grievances and keep energy high, the pope and other religious leaders were alarmed, just like Tolkien, Lewis, and other writers. The movement that was on the rise was called “Christian nationalism”- an idea that a nation or people therein would shape everything according to Christian ideals. 

For many believers in Jesus, that doesn’t initially sound so bad. If a leader claimed such a thing, why should we be concerned? Such language and actions should concern us because the essence of Christianity has never been about worldly power. If we always imagine a balance scale in our mind with the words and deeds of Jesus on one side, we must weigh everything else against that truth that sets us free. If we say we are followers of Christ, who he is and what he does must be given the most weight in our lives- words, thoughts, and deeds. 

In today’s gospel from John, Jesus is before the Roman governor, Pontius Pilate. Pilate’s concerns are good order in the region, answering to the emperor for his actions, overseeing trade and connections with area leaders, and squashing rebellions to keep the peace. The idea that the Prince of Peace is right in front of him means nothing to him and would never occur to him. Even our most generous reading of Pilate cannot untangle the man from his complicated relationship with Roman power and oppression. 

Jesus, for his part, knows this. Even as he might desire to be merciful to Pilate, John’s writing here reveals that Jesus is not going to claim kingship for himself. Pilate and other world leaders only have one image of a king- one who seeks to accrue power, land, and resources through many means- most of them violent. Not only is Jesus not violent, but even when he’s righteously angry, he has no need to accumulate earthly status symbols. He is the Son of God. He has been since the beginning. The kingdoms of this world cannot offer him anything that isn’t already his. 

He tells Pilate that his kingdom or realm is not of this world. Notice Jesus does not say he doesn’t have a kingdom. He simply notes that his reign is not on this plane of existence. This was probably frustrating and annoying to Pilate, who likely got as tangled up as we do when Jesus doesn’t seem to give a direct answer. 

Note what else Jesus says, though: “If my kingdom were from this world, my followers would be fighting to keep me from being handed over... But as it is, my kingdom is not from here.” Jesus has no expectation of his followers fighting in for him or in his name. Jesus explicitly rejects the idea of holy war on his behalf. In Matthew 25, the commands of Jesus are to care for the sick, the naked, the hungry, the imprisoned, and the lonely. None of these described situations are about fighting or seizing power. In the very next chapter, Jesus warns Peter to put away his sword as those who live by the sword, die by the sword. 

Consider that phrase for a moment: those who live by the sword, die by the sword. What shapes our living will consequently shape our dying. This is a key understanding in following Christ. If we live in Him, shaped by his commandments and imitating his grace, mercy, and welcome, we will die in Him- assured and consoled by all that has been done for us and by the amazing grace that will lead us home. 

Which brings us back to today’s commemoration of Christ the King and why this day was deemed to be necessary. There is no government on earth that has not been established in some way by force. The coercive power considered “necessary” to establish and run a country, nation, or rebellion is not of Christ. When political leaders make promises, even using biblical or church language, they are in cahoots with the forces that oppose God and probably not in accordance with the will of God. 

Sometimes we can see and acknowledge governments or officials are able to accomplish deeds that are in line with God’s expressed will for caring for the marginalized, community flourishing, and stewardship of creation. More often than not, however, we know leaders are excited to use power to support themselves, their own agendas, and their friends. 

This is the gravest danger of Christian nationalism- that we will be misled by people who use the words we long to hear, but only use power as a means to their own ends, having nothing to do with Christ or his own instructions to his followers. The further we move from the center of Christ’s commands and will, the more people are harmed since care for and love of neighbor is the very essence of what it means to follow Jesus. 

In 1925, church leaders saw the need for a reminder that Christ is our ultimate leader. Even as we understand our vocation of citizenship in voting and participating in action, our highest allegiance is to the King of kings and the Lord of lords. Back to that image of the balance scale, we must weigh not only our own words but the words and deeds of those who seek to lead us. How do they measure up to Christ’s guidance to those who claim to be his followers? 

The truth of today’s observance, Reign of Christ or Christ the King Sunday, is to recognize the truth of our long defeat. To know we have been invited and equipped to be a part of how God’s will is done on earth, but also to know and accept that we will not complete the work. And what good we may do can easily be overturned by the forces that oppose God- spiritual forces, political forces, and the force of brokenness, which we call sin. 

Here is the word of hope I offer you in the long defeat, a reason to keep going, a word of true hope from the anchor of our faith. There is nothing but long game when you follow the King of Kings and Lord of Lords. There is nothing but long game when you trust in the Prince of Peace. There is nothing but long game when you seek the will of the One who is the Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end. 

The best history of Christianity has been when we engaged in the long game, even if it is a long defeat- the founding of hospitals and care for the sick and the dying, the work of improving prisons and accompanying the incarcerated, the work of feeding the hungry and clothing the naked, the work of pursuing justice with generosity and self-control and little recognition. 

Christianity’s holy wars, forced conversions, and efforts to create “Christian nations” are typically counted as moral failures, the opposite of the “long defeat”. Those doomed actions, in particular, are exactly what Jesus tells Pilate that his followers will not do because they were, and are, attempts to establish a kingdom like that of the rulers of the earth, not the ruler of heaven.

No matter what happens to the kingdoms of this world, God is faithful and constant. The One who made us is the One who is, was, and is to come. We are not drawn together by the Holy Spirit to flail about in confusion or hopelessness. The Spirit’s tether binds us into a community that is equipped with the written word of God and with the gifts of baptism and holy communion. We have received inspiration, guidance, and sustenance for the journey of faith on which we are led and accompanied by the One who knows and loves us best. Our long defeat will always be God’s ultimate victory. 

On this day and every day, remember that you have been claimed and called by One whose kingdom is not of this world. His life and his word are both eternal. He welcomes all and our names are in the book of life, in his royal handwriting and not our own. Jesus Christ is the only one who can promise a reign forever and ever. And who graciously brings us into that eternity by his love. Amen. 

What is Best (Sermon)

Pentecost 15 (Year A) 
Deuteronomy 4:1-2, 6-9; Psalm 15; James 1:17-27;  Mark 7:1-8, 14-15, 21-23

I recently read a novel set in a post-pandemic, apocalyptic world. In the book, people were working to re-establish pockets of society. A traveling symphony moved from town to town in caravans- performing music and works of Shakespeare. Early in their travels, they had tried other plays, but people only wanted to see Shakespearean works. One of the symphony members commented on the desire for Shakespeare, "People want what was best about the world."

As I read and since I finished the book, I kept thinking about that phrase.  People want what was best about the world. People want what was best about the world. That is true even when we’re not in a cataclysmic re-working of what we’ve always known. The very idea of nostalgia, of longing for what once was, is about wanting what was best about the world or what seemed like the best to us. One of the massive tensions between people right now is how differently we may remember the past from how our neighbor remembers it. We’re sure our recollection about what was best, true, and right is correct and they’re sure their memory is more accurate than ours. 

We may not agree on what is or was best about the world in general, but as people of God, as people of faith, we have been drawn together by the Holy Spirit to live according to a different “best”. Today’s readings point us to how we have been called to live so that our way of being reflects best on the One who made, saved, and loves us. 

All four texts today present a way of living that requires dedication and discipline. In Deuteronomy, Moses reminds the people that the laws they’ve been given are meant to do two things. First, the laws will help the people live in community with one another in the new land to which God has brought them. Second, the laws will act as a light to other nations, showing how the people of God live righteously and in so doing, they flourish. The flourishing isn’t a blessing for doing the right thing; it flows from the communal choice to value whom and what God values and to turn away from things that are not of God. 

In the psalm, the writer wonders who may be worthy to enter the temple to worship the Lord. Worthiness does not come from physical perfection or even from the most valuable offering, but instead from holy living. Such living avoids gossip, rejects wickedness, does not cheat others, and pursues justice. The person whose life reflects these choices is worthy to enter the temple. 

In Mark, the author of the gospel is explaining Jewish customs to the Gentile audience who is hearing the gospel story. Even as Mark writes that all Jewish people wash their hands before eating, this can’t be completely true because the disciples and Jesus were all Jewish. The passage shows the tension within the early Christian community, which was trying to understand how Jewish traditions might apply to them (and the word tradition is different from the word law). We see this same struggle within many of Paul’s letters as well. 

Jesus speaks to those who hold tightly to the traditions and cautions them about misplaced priorities. Human traditions are not unimportant to Jesus, but he is concerned about placing a higher value on the ways of people than on the ways of God. The most important behaviors are the ones that show kindness, love mercy, pursue justice, and reveal the presence and providence of God in the world. Habits, traditions, and behaviors that get in the way of those things must necessarily take second or third place or even be eliminated. 

James agrees with Jesus. True religion has nothing to do with how faithful you appear to be or how correctly you can explain what you believe. It has to do with how you live. This explanation becomes a fine line to walk because many people have assumed over the years that right behavior earns God’s favor. That’s not what is being said in this passage. Right behavior flows from God’s favor. It is because we understand and trust in all God has done for us and for all people that we are free and welcomed into service and sharing for the sake of Christ in the world. Because God so loves, then we do too. 

For James, if there is evident suffering in the world, if there is pain, if there is injustice, if orphans and widows are being disregarded and languishing in terror and pain, then there must not be any religious people around. True faithfulness is a response to all that God has done and carries God’s peace and mercy into the world. Even if it’s not what the world values, the truly faithful person doesn’t care. The faithful pray in word and deed for God’s will to be done on earth as it is in heaven. 

This brings me back to the phrase from the beginning, “People want what was best about the world.” Are our lives, individually and communally, reflecting what is best about God’s care and compassion for the cosmos? As one old hymn says, “The love of God is broader than the measure of our minds”. The measuring tape the world has to understand the broadness of that love is the lives of the people of God.

When we think of what’s best about us as a church, as a people of God, as a denomination, and as a community with other Christians- we must assess our actions – with our building, with our time, with our people, with our money. Are we part of what’s best about God’s work in the world? Do people, would people, will people associate us with the accomplishing of the Divine Will?

In these turbulent times, amid unrest, violence, economic tension, and just, plain exhaustion, we cannot abandon what it means to be truly faithful. We cannot draw in and wait for a better time, a calmer time, a more stable time. It is for such a time as this that we have been given the gift of faith, that we have been baptized, for which we have taken communion again and again. 

There is a world longing for the best and we have it, the story, the light, the love, and the very presence of a crucified and risen Christ. We don’t have to have all the answers before we go out to meet even the most basic of the questions. Faithfulness is revealed in the doing- God’s faithfulness to us and then our responsive faithfulness to God. 

People want what is best about the world. Through the Holy Spirit, that can and should include the people whose cups overflow with gratitude because of God’s amazing grace. That is us. 

 

Amen.  

 

What the Lord Needs (Easter Sermon)

Mark16:1-8

The Easter story began a week ago with Palm Sunday. Yes, technically it began four months ago at Christmas, but the particular part of the life of Christ we celebrate today starts with Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem. He rides in on a donkey because the donkey is the transport of kings in ancient Israel. (We will not explore that rabbit trail today.) Some of you may remember that Jesus rides a borrowed donkey. 

In the Mark passage we read last week, Jesus sends a couple disciples out to obtain the donkey. If they are questioned, he tells them, say, “The Lord needs it.” Find a donkey and that the owner will understand what it means that “the Lord needs it” are assumed. This will happen. And so, it does. Jesus enters Jerusalem on a young donkey, with many people celebrating him by waving branches and throwing their cloaks down in front of him. He has what he needed. 

In the week since then, many in that cheering crowd have fallen away. His disciples were overwhelmed by the events, including that one of their own was the betrayer. By the time Jesus’ body is taken down from the cross, the only people who remain are the women who had supported his ministry with their own resources and a couple of wealthy men who were able to secure Jesus’ body. 

With all of that in mind, I think of Mary Magdalene, Mary (the mother of James), and Salome going to the tomb to care for Jesus’ broken and bruised body. The two men who had been able to bury Jesus had poured a significant amount of nard, a fragrant ointment or oil, over his body before it went into the tomb. This was done in the effort to forestall the body beginning to smell before they could come back after the sabbath and care for Jesus’ body gently by cleaning, anointing, and wrapping it with care. 

The women may have brought cinnamon, lavender, and more nard, as well as frankincense and myrrh. Picture them with a few bags between them- dried flowers poking out of this one, small clay pots clinking in that one. As they walk, they are worried about the stone and whether they will be able to move it together. If a Roman guard is still at the tomb, would the guard move it for them or possibly prevent them from going in. 

In this time of grief, they are focused on what they expect to be in their way. The stone is not merely an obstacle; it is in the way of these women being able to do what they believe Jesus needs. Everything they are bringing, their every intention is because, in their understanding, the Lord has need of it. The body of the Lord has need of it. 

When they arrive at the tomb, though, the stone is already moved. Furthermore, the body of the Lord is not there. In Mark’s account, the two Marys and Salome are met by a white-robed young man who tells them that Jesus has been raised. Lest there be any confusion, the young man tells the women he knows they are looking for Jesus of Nazareth who was crucified. There has not been a tomb mix up; the women are in the right place. 

The young man goes on, “But go, tell his disciples and Peter that he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him, just as he told you.” 

Mark’s gospel ends abruptly with the women fleeing from the tomb in terror and amazement. Mark writes that they said nothing to anyone for they were afraid. While this seems confusing to us, at the time Mark was written, it is likely that there were still living witnesses to the risen Christ. While maybe not these three women, probably Rufus and Alexander, sons of Simon of Cyrene, as well as some of Jesus’ close followers.

 The first people to hear or read Mark’s account would know that the women had found courage and shared the good news. And not only these women, but many other people saw and experienced the risen Christ. Spelling out the accounting wasn’t as necessary while there were still eyewitnesses to pick up the story. 

On this first Easter morning, however, we have the women, fleeing in terror and amazement. They need to find the other disciples and Peter and tell them that Jesus has gone ahead of them. Ahead of them in death, ahead of them in resurrection, ahead of them to Galilee. 

When we last saw Peter, he denied knowing Jesus. He is singled out in this resurrection announcement to make it clear that Jesus will not deny Peter. The joy of resurrection is for even the ones who make the worst mistakes. 

The women hurry away from the tomb, temporarily stunned into silence. Back home they go. Back home with the cinnamon and the lavender and the nard and the frankincense and the myrrh. Back home with the strips of cloth and lengths of woven fabric. Apparently, the Lord did not have need of it. 

Which brings me to one of the points I want us to take away on this Easter Sunday. How often are we still carrying around things that the Lord does not need? I don’t mean ointments or traditions or even our questions and doubts. 

I mean, how often are we carrying judgment of others, reluctance to change, hesitation to welcome, slowness to be hospitable, griefs and frustrations about minor issues, fear of being wrong in mercy and love? How often are we carrying things because we think the body of Christ needs us to hold on to these things, but all they do is keep us from getting to where the Lord has gone ahead of us. We do not need to carry these things. The Lord does not have need of them. 

What would have happened to all the things the women carried, the spices and flowers and balms? They would have been used to anoint other bodies in death, but with an entirely different sentiment. Each body would have been prepared knowing that death as we perceive it was not the end. Each tomb was closed knowing that Jesus’ words, “It is finished” were followed by the Holy Parent’s words, “But it’s not over”.

The Lord no longer had need of those spices, but the body of Christ- the people in community, the people of hope, the Easter people would and did. The spices would have been used even as those same women, the ones who had initially said nothing, spoke the truth of the resurrection over the bodies for which they tenderly cared. That was what the Lord needed them to do. Their trust in the resurrection, their hope in heaven, their willingness to seem foolish in the eyes of the world in the imitation of Christ- those were what the Lord needed then. 

Our trust in the resurrection, our hope in heaven, our willingness to seem foolish in the eyes of the world because of how we imitate Christ- those are what the Lord has need of now. Not for his own sake, but in joyful response to amazing grace for the sake of the people and the creation that God so loved. Loved. Loves. 

There is nowhere we can go, from Galilee to Libby to the moon, that Jesus is not ahead of us, waiting, welcoming, and guiding us through the Spirit into the accomplishing of the will of God. This is the good news- the purpose of our life in faith. We are useful to the Lord. The Lord has need of us- as his hands of healing, as his words of compassion, as his presence of mercy, and his table-turners for justice and righteousness. 

We must, then, stop carrying what is unnecessary, harmful, dead- so that our hands are open to receive and to give. To let go and let come. 

On this day, on this holy resurrection day, hear these words, beloved: The tomb is empty. Christ is risen. He is with you and has gone ahead of you. You are blessed to be a blessing to others, in a world that needs to know of the triumph of a loving and living God. Go forth in joy and amazement. The Lord has need of you.  

 

Amen.