Met By the Great "I Am"

John 18:12-27

            The writer of the Fourth Gospel loves a dramatic scene. There are some serious contrasts here. If we were writing a script for this, we would flash back and forth between Peter in the courtyard and Jesus in the garden and then in front of the high priests.

            In the garden, at the betrayal, there are 600 soldiers. A detachment is an enormous number of soldiers, greatly outsized compared to the threat that Jesus might pose. Of course, if they think there is a possibility that he is God… then the more soldiers, the better. Jesus knows what they are about. When they say they are looking for Jesus of Nazareth, Jesus says, “I am.” It sounds better to our ears to finish the sentence as “I am he.” However, the Jewish ears that first heard this gospel pricked up at the “I am.” Where else do we hear that phrase?

            It is how God speaks to Moses through the burning bush, when Moses asks for God’s name. God replies, “I am.” Now Jesus uses the same phrase and is carried away. Every set of Jewish ears in that garden would have been burning, whether or not they were cut off.

            Now to the courtyard scene, Peter gets into the courtyard through a friend’s recommendation. This is not likely one of the other 12 disciples we traditionally think of- those disciples would not have had the social connections or power to get Peter in to the high priest’s house. This is more likely to be a disciple like Nicodemus or Joseph of Arimathea. The person knows Peter and says, “He’s with me.”

            Thus, Peter is in the courtyard, warming his hands- looking around with wide eyes at opulence that is a far cry from his upbringing in Galilee by the sea. He’s nervous and worried. Of what is Peter afraid?

- Dying… (ultimate concern)

            So Peter, when recognized, denies being with Jesus. In John, Peter has a very clear response, “I am not.” Are you one of the disciples, aren’t you the man we saw, You’re a disciple- right? “I am not.”

            Peter says, “I am not.” Jesus says, “I am.”  

            We know that Judas betrays Jesus. We know that the crowd is going to cry, “Crucify him.” Yet, Peter’s “I am not”. Peter’s desire to save his hide. Peter’s unwillingness to say, “Let me die with him.” It’s worse. It cuts to the bone.

            “I am,” says Jesus. Peter says, “I am not.”

            We are talking about stewardship during this season of reflection. In particular, we are in a chapter together of looking at how we use our resources- how we support this community, our synod, the larger church, and the needs of the world for the sake of Christ.

            In this time of more focused discipline, we are called to look at our checkbooks, our bank statements, our credit card receipts, our tax refunds, our tax payments, our church’s spending plan, and ask what they reveal. Do they show us as standing with Jesus? Do they reflect the kind of dedication to God’s work that we want them to?

            My checkbook shows that I give a lot of money to the College Foundation (the place that holds my education loans) and to Fred Meyer. Am I a disciple of CFI or Fred Meyer? I am not.

            Are you a disciple of your mortgage? Of your debts? Of your habits? Of your addictions? Of other non-profit groups?

            What about your schedule? I don’t just mean how often are you here in church, but how much of your time is spent with Scripture? In prayer? In communicating closeness and care to people in your community? Are you a disciple of television, of your hobbies, of your chores, of your work, of your health?

            Can you truthfully say “I am not” to all of those? Do you have a good reason that you want to tell me later or that you want to tell someone else in the car later (wherein you’ll say that I just don’t understand)? But I do understand. I understand all too well. Just because I’m up here doesn’t mean I identify with Jesus. I’m there with Peter.

            And I’m guessing you might be too.

            But we don’t have to be.

            Despite Peter’s unfaithfulness, Jesus didn’t abandon him. Jesus would later give Peter a chance to make up for his denial. Jesus remains faithful. Jesus, and God in Jesus, remains the “I am”. When we say, “I am not”- God in Christ says, “I am.”

I can’t  (God can.)

I won’t (God will)

I don’t (God does)

            It is this faithfulness that we count on, that is the Source of Life that both sends us out and draws us in. It is this Faithfulness that gives us the strength to live into repentance, into turning around, into people who are not afraid to claim lives of discipleship with our money, with our time, with our families, with all that God has given us.

            Stewardship that puts God first isn’t about austerity or humiliation. It’s about celebrating God’s abundance in our lives- relationships, resources, resurrection. It’s about listening for where Jesus says, “I am” and responding with sincerity, “I am with him.”

Amen.

When Jesus Was a Little Boy (video)

Notes on Jacob

(These notes were my "back-up" reflection for Sunday 9/22/13. God delivered a much more intense word in reality. The audio is in this post.)

Genesis 27:1-4, 15-23; 28:10-17

            For me, the stories of Genesis begin to feel “real” when Jacob appears on the scene. I understand Abraham as the “Father-of-many” and father of our faith. I sympathize with Isaac- in the binding, in the grief of the death of his parents, etc. However, Jacob- wrestling within the womb, grasping all he can, wanting more than he can define clearly, and prepared to do anything to get it- Jacob is a truly fleshed-out character, a human being, a person who makes the Scriptures pop and sing. After all, why would this ancestor be included, with his cheating and tricky ways, except that through him, we understand (like many generations before us) that God is no respecter of persons.

            Jacob comes out of the womb clinging to Esau’s heel and spends the rest of his childhood trying to overtake him. An oracle is revealed to his mother, Rebekah, there were two nations in her womb and the younger would overtake the older. Whether this provokes her later actions or gives her an excuse for what she does, Rebekah doesn’t hold back from helping Jacob grab onto what’s not his.

            Of course, Esau doesn’t help. He is very willing to give into his human desires, too. A birthright, his right to inherit all his father’s material property, for a lentil stew- is this the decision of a model older sibling? Of course, we grieve for Esau when he loses out on Isaac’s blessing. This is not a mere “bless you, my child”- but a powerful blessing that conveys with it the covenantal relationship between God and Abraham that will now be passed to Jacob. God’s words brought this into being and Isaac’s words pass it to Jacob. He cannot withdraw these words once spoken.

            Jacob has to flee so that Esau will not kill him. He has both the birthright (his father’s property) and the blessing of an elder son, but he is afraid and alone. He sleeps on a rock- probably terrified for his life for the first time ever. In his exhaustion, he has a vision of heaven and God speaks to him.

            Jacob is granted the one thing he cannot grab for himself- God’s blessing. God shows him a glimpse of heaven and speaks to Jacob of what is to come. Jacob will own the land on which he currently sleeps. He will have many children. God’s own legacy will spread out through Jacob.

            And it does. It is neither Abraham nor Isaac who receive the name “Israel”. It is not Sarah or Rebekah who give birth to the man who will save the Hebrew people from starvation- it is one of the wives of Jacob. The people of Israel are named through Jacob. The 12 tribes of the nation come through Jacob. Much of the identity of what it meant to be an Israelite comes through Jacob- a man who wrestled that blessing from God.

            The story of Jacob tells us that God is in places we do not expect, as Jacob found out when he slept in the desert. More importantly, God is present in people we do not expect and God is using them in ways we do not expect. Additionally, God’s blessing is not something we can grasp for ourselves. No one is keeping it from us and we are not earning it through good behavior. It is God’s to give freely and God does so, through the power of the Living Word.

Amen. 

Unity in Silos

I've been slowly introducing the idea of the Narrative Lectionary (NL) to my congregation. The NL is a fairly quickly paced romp through the arc of Scripture from Abraham and Sarah to Acts (September to late May). Each Sunday, the congregation focuses on one scripture passage that reveals the work God has done. Through the lens of that story, in its Scriptural setting, we move to more fully comprehend the work God is doing now.

In order to use the NL, we will have to drop out of formal use of the Revised Common Lectionary (RCL) for about nine months. It is my hope that during this time our congregation will labor together and come to a better understanding of the narrative thread of what we believe. How are the Hebrew Scriptures connected to our understanding of Jesus? How do we see ourselves as children of Abraham? What are the lessons of the Exile?

These are important themes and stories that don't quite make into the heart of the RCL. Arguably, they could be covered through Faith Formation activities, like Christian Education, Confirmation, Bible study... etc. However, I have to be realistic about the habits of my congregation. The majority of people are here on Sunday morning. Some can't, some don't and some won't come to other things during the week. So I have to take seriously the teaching portion of my call and bring the mountain to Mohammed, or something like that.

In this month's newsletter, I published the proposed schedule of the NL and asked for comments or questions. I received my first today from a clergy colleague in the Lutheran Church- Missouri Synod. I consider this pastor a friend and an inspiration and I know he was somewhat teasing in his email, yet some portions of it really hit home. We discussed it on the phone, but I'd like to stir the pot a little with his comments.

He noted that by using the Narrative Lectionary, one could see the ELCA as moving either farther away from the Church catholic and, possibly, from its Lutheran roots.

Holy revelation, Batman!

Have we come so far that a desire to cover more Bible makes me less orthodox and, yea verily, less Lutheran? Say it isn't so.

First, the use of the Narrative Lectionary is a choice and is neither endorsed or encouraged by the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America. (It isn't discouraged either.) One might consider the Book of Faith initiative to be an encouragement into deeper Biblical work, but that's a different post/rant/exploration. Bringing broader and deeper biblical understanding to people in pews (and streets) is, last time I checked, at the heart of Lutheran self-understanding. It's right up there with Christ and him crucified. (It is, in part, how we know about Christ and him crucified.)

My pastor friend pointed out that the RCL or even a standard three-year rotation gives pastors of a variety of stripes some common ground to discuss our sermon preparation, to share ideas and from which to wade into deeper theological matters.

True enough, the RCL puts me on same pulpit plane, so to speak, with the majority of United Methodists, American Baptists, Episcopalians, LC-MS, WELS, Roman Catholics and many others on any given Sunday. Since our table fellowship and ordination practices are often dividers, the Common Lectionary can be a tie that binds our hearts in Christian love.

Ah, but there in lies my problem. I fail to see how a deeper understanding of Scripture is going to lead the congregation of Lutheran Church of Hope away from the Church catholic. I would think (!) it could only help. (Said the young ELCA pastor with optimism.)

Besides, I don't think it is my proposed nine months in the NL that is causing an ideological divide between some of my LC-MS brethren (and sistren), WELS, Romans Catholics and some Orthodox.

If we decide to explore the Narrative Lectionary, we will still:

Affirm our faith using the Apostle's Creed (except when we use the Nicene)
Baptize in the name of Trinity (Father, Son and Holy Spirit) 
Believe in Scripture as the inspired, written Word of God
Believe in the saints, alive and gone before as our cloud of witnesses
Trust in the Real Presence of Christ in Holy Communion
Understand God as having acted on behalf of creation, continuing to do so and planning to do so until the end of time

If we can't be united to the Church catholic through our faith in God's work of salvation in Jesus the Christ and through the things above, it doesn't matter how we study the Bible.

If we can't define ourselves, in the positive, by some unity in these things, then we are about as useful as the fig tree (Mark 11:12-14). Where is our fruit?

My hope in using the Narrative Lectionary (which has its own flaws) is to begin to deepen and build on the biblical foundation of the majority of my congregants. I hope that they will be energized by new hearing, new discussion and new understanding. In general, I think this is what all pastors work toward and pray for- across the Church catholic.