A Way to Read the Bible

There are a couple of lines in today’s Hebrews reading that remind me of something Mike Breen talks about in his book Covenant and Kingdom. Breen is trying to provide for people a simple template by which to read Scripture. I think he may be on to something.

He suggests that we can read any particular passage in light of both covenant and kingdom. While biblically and theologically covenant and kingdom are definitely overlapping realities (and I wouldn’t want to stress the difference between the two nearly as much as Breen does), I think his distinctions can be helpful for us in our personal reading of Scripture.

The word “covenant,” Breen suggests, focuses on our relationships with God and each other, while the word “kingdom” points to the responsibilities we have in representing God’s interests in the world.

Coming Clean

Let’s face it. There is a deep resistance in all of us to growing spiritually — heck, to growing at all. That may come as a shock to some of us who pride ourselves on being very intentional about our spiritual lives, including our spiritual growth. Many may even deny that it’s true; at least it’s not true of them. They know other people who dig in their heels, but that’s because ‘those people’ aren’t as committed to Jesus as we are.

Mandate or Mission?

Yesterday was Epiphany. Epiphany is the celebration of the revelation of Jesus as God’s Son to the Gentiles. It’s historical reference point is the visitation of the Magi to the baby Jesus.

And it’s surrounded by controversy.

I mean, what’s God doing using astrology to announce his Son’s birth? Astrology is a forbidden practice in the Old Testament, and is always seen in a negative light. The Hebrew word for astrology literally means “divining by the heavens.” In Leviticus 19:26 we read, “Do not practice divination or sorcery.” Just this week I talked with a friend whose mind was twisted into a spiritual knot because of what a Christian astrologer told him. He had no idea, being a young Christian, that “Christian astrologer” is an oxymoron.

The Sound of Silence

“After the fire, there was a soft whisper.”

A soft whisper. A still small voice. The “sound” of silence. How and where Elijah experienced God after his battle with the prophets of Baal and close escape from the queen.

As I read these words in yesterday’s Old Testament reading, my mind went to “The Hut,” a small, single room cabin I used to visit for monthly overnight retreats. It’s on the property of a retreat center in Three Rivers, Michigan called The Hermitage. No electricity, no indoor plumbing, just a wood stove to ward off the winter chill. The Hut stands by itself in the woods, about a half-mile from the main retreat complex.

The Improbable Body

Okay, so I’ve been just a little obsessed with the body lately. Not mine, but his. The body of Christ. I don’t think I’m obsessed with it because it’s what I want. For many years, I wanted nothing more than to keep my distance from the church. I was too frustrated with it, too embarrassed, too angry, too bored. I didn’t want to waste my time and my life on something I felt was hopeless and had long ago crossed the line of impossible. Like many today, I liked Christ, but I didn’t like his church. I liked the idea of the church well enough, but not the reality.

Thing is, the apostle Paul probably had at least as many reasons to feel frustrated, embarrassed and angry. Frustrated because he had to spend a lot of time in prison, and couldn’t “go to church,” and because the churches he’d planted were constantly plagued by heresies, divisions, personality conflicts and competing agendas. Numerical growth was slow. Mostly they were immature.

A Death Allowed

The following poem is based on today’s gospel (John 4:43-54), and is a follow-up to yesterday’s post as well as a blade to till the soil for this coming Sunday’s sermon.

A second wonder in Cana.
A second word to give one pause.

“Unless you people see signs and wonders, you will never believe.“

Miracles – signs that bolster our faith,
a faith that ultimately rests on a death allowed –
the death of the Most Royal Official’s Son.
His death revealing how beyond self-saving we are;
how wretched our sin,
how whelming the flood of our suffering,
now engulfing the Son of the Most High.
Such love, such love.
(almost enough to make one believe)

Such power!
To alleviate and liberate,
to heal the sin-sick soul,
to transform all creation.

Resurrection! The fruit of dying.

“Unless a seed falls to the ground and dies….“
A mustard seed faith that grows out of a death allowed,
our own.

Boundaries

Today’s gospel reading contains the story of Jesus turning water into wine at the wedding in Cana. Jesus’ initial response to his mother’s low-on-wine alert got me thinking…

“Woman, why are you saying this to me? My time has not yet come.”

Distance from family. (“Woman.” That’s no way for a son to address his mother.)

Distance from circumstances. (“What does this have to do with us?”)

Distance from the tyranny of the urgent. (“My time has not yet come.”)

Distance that’s necessary to hear God…

who may end up telling us to do the expected after all,
but for reasons others don’t detect
and for purposes that will only later be known.

Lost…and Found

Today’s gospel reading is the parable of the lost sheep — where the shepherd leaves the ninety-nine sheep that stayed put in order to find the one sheep that wandered off.  Jesus ends the parable by saying, “In the same way your Father in heaven is not willing that any of these little ones should be lost” (Matthew 18:14).

I’m intrigued by what this parable teaches about what it means to be “lost.”

When I grew up, the term “lost” referred to people who were going to hell. But that doesn’t seem to be the meaning in this parable. So what does it mean that the sheep was lost?

Christmas Offering

Our BRC Christmas Eve offering this year goes toward the recovery efforts in Schoharie. If you have a few minutes, watch this video to know why your gift is needed.

Mary’s Righteousness

In Sunday’s sermon (“Think Big, but Think Small”) I suggested that the Son of God became a nothing to a nobody. In Philippians 2 the apostle Paul tells that Jesus “made himself nothing.” Mary, given what little we know about her, was virtually a nobody. I may have unintentionally offended when I spoke of Mary in this way. I’m not suggesting that Mary was a nobody, anymore than I’m suggesting that Jesus was a nothing. The main point is that Jesus emptied himself and became an embryo, a zygote, and eventually a servant. Likewise Mary, whoever she was at the time (and we know less about her religious or spiritual background than even that of the parents of John the Baptist), emptied herself and made her womb and her future available to the Son of God.