loving our enemies

It is especially hard when one or more of our enemies used to be friends and even names the name of Jesus. But in following Jesus we’re called to love our enemies, to bless those who curse us, to do good to them.

I find that I have to forgive over and over again people for the wrongs done to me. When I do there comes a kind of release to live well in God’s will. But before that there is struggle and bondage, and surely sin. I am lashing out, or perhaps just deeply hurt.

But there is no escape. And this is the way of following Jesus. Of being “perfect” as our heavenly Father is perfect, merciful in the same way he is. It must become a way of life for us.

Sometimes you simply have to do something for the heart to follow. We rightly say with Jesus that it is out of our hearts that evil thoughts come, as well as the words we speak. But when I’m repenting of a wrong attitude, I find that as I begin to pray for someone, I experience a kind of release. I pray for their well being. Seeking to love them, while under no illusions that I am in any way their friend. Yet I’m to love them as if they were a friend. I’m not to hold anything against them.

Yes, it is written his commands are not burdensome, for whatever is born of God overcomes the world, and this is the victory that overcomes the world, even our faith. And yet it is the way of the cross. Jesus didn’t find the will of the Father easy for him in the Garden of Gethsemane. Of course what he was facing as well as doing was unique. But we’re to share in his sufferings. I think the point of the word in 1 John 5 is that by faith we can obey God’s commands, that they don’t weigh us down in the sense of us not being able to do them. Even when they go against the grain and cut right across the heart.

Loving one’s enemies means being willing to befriend them. And wanting reconciliation through God’s reconciliation in Jesus. It is a part of our following Jesus.

And so we take the way of the cross in following Jesus. We are weak in him, so that his strength might be at work in and through us. Together in Jesus for the world.

 

 

when angry

It is hard not to be angry in this world, in fact it likely isn’t right if we never are. Literally we read in Ephesians that we’re to “Be angry, yet do not sin. Don’t let the sun go down on your anger and don’t give the devil a foothold.” We’re told in James not to abstain from anger, but to “be slow to anger, for human anger does not bring about the righteousness of God.”

Anger has a life all its own. It can take you for a ride. When anger takes over it is devilish, demonic, so to speak. Well, even literally. Which is why Paul tells us to get rid of it before the day is over, so that we don’t give place to the devil.

One doesn’t think straight, and can act out of hand. We end up fighting fire with fire. We are inspired from hell itself. Not a good place to be.

And then if anger takes over our lives, there is a root of bitterness which bears fruit which defiles many. There’s a desire for revenge. And there’s the danger of hating someone, holding another in contempt. Jesus said to do that is to fall into God’s judgment and to be in danger of the fire of hell. But do we who have been raised in an atmosphere of “once saved, always saved,” take that seriously? Not that I believe in the doctrine of eternal security myself at all. We’re never secure in our sins, but only in Christ, and in a faith which follows.

Anger is a dangerous, fiery wrecking ball. Wreaking havoc in its path. This can be so in subtle, hidden ways. We may not act overtly, but it may be what we withhold which tells the tale. Withholding the natural love and care which makes us human. I know we are sinners. We don’t by nature have eternal life residing in us. But through God’s grace in Jesus we do have eternal life, which means we love our brothers and sisters in Jesus. And we love our enemies as well, in the love and fellowship of Jesus. There is a natural love residing in humans, though broken, just as God’s image remains in humans, though broken or cracked by sin.

When I’m angry over the top, past the point in which it is acceptable, I need to practice quick confession to God, before it gets out of hand. I must not nurture it, or feed it, justifying it. I need to  no less than repent of it. Which means I’m to forgive the wrong done to me. To pray for the one who has done the wrong, along with weeping with those who weep. We need to  channel that anger so as to do justly, love mercy and walk humbly with our God.

This is part and parcel of what it means to follow Jesus. To be God’s people in him. Committed to each other in the way of the cross of Jesus for the world.

meditation for Good Friday: witnessing Jesus at the cross

Thankfully we have the clear narrative from the gospel accounts of the four evangelists of Jesus’ suffering, crucifixion and death (Matthew, Mark, Luke and John). And from the prophet Isaiah we gather more of the brutality which Jesus endured out of love.

It is good to mediate and ponder on those events, what Jesus did for us. Our church has a most wonderful Stations of the Cross which can be quite helpful for us to slowly walk through and consider what Jesus suffered for us, and its meaning- past, present and future.

Of course Jesus’ death is not only for us, but for the world, and indeed for all creation. In that death the old order is judged and the prince of this world is driven out. And in the resurrection the new order comes in, the new creation to be completed when heaven and earth become one, but which begins even here and now in and through Jesus.

But we need to pause and ponder what Jesus did for us in his death. We need to behold him on the cross. Taking some time. Not just a passing thought.  We need to put our faith in him as the crucified one, our now resurrected and ascended Lord. Perhaps a renewal of our faith. Nothing can help us do that more than to attempt to fix our eyes on Jesus who out of love and for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame. And is now seated at the right hand of God. To reappear, but now ever present by his Spirit in the world.

May each of us take time to ponder and think through this great love of God in Jesus. Together in Jesus for the world.

meditation for Holy Tuesday: what is needed, a change of heart

When Jesus came and God’s kingdom in him, not only was there to be a change contradicting the world’s system, but at bottom there was to be no less than a change of heart. It does little to no good to change systems or laws when there is no change of heart corresponding.

That week Jesus was telling his disciples that they would all fall away because of what was about to happen to him. Peter denied it emphatically, showing what little he knew. The Lord corrected him, telling him that he would actually deny him three times. Peter then protested that even if he had to die with Jesus, he would never deny him.

We know what happened afterward. In the garden Jesus had told the disciples not only to watch and pray with him, but to pray that they would not fall into temptation. The disciples fell asleep, and then Jesus’ rebuke, wondering that they could not watch with him for one hour. With the warning: “The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.”

The Lord had told Peter that Satan had asked permission to sift all the disciples as wheat. But that Jesus had prayed for Peter. With the directive that when Peter would turn back in repentance that he should strengthen his brothers. We know how that happened. Peter does return, and then the Lord asks Peter if he loves him three times. Perhaps the change in the last of that questioning from the verb form of agape to phila love mattered. But Peter broke down in grief. This was a time of deep soul searching and transformation of heart.

Jesus came to give us a new heart. Our hearts are often hard and unmoved. We don’t want to do what we know we ought to do, or we do what we should not because our hearts are unchanged. Scripture tells us that a broken and contrite heart God will not despise. Jesus said that on the outside people can look good, while the inside can be full of evil. White washed tombs with dead people’s bones inside.

I can be slow at heart to believe and obey. It is good when one finds it joyful to obey in love. Jesus came and walked that dreadful way of the cross to give us a new heart. In his high priestly prayer, Jesus prayed just prior to his suffering, “For them I sanctify myself, that they too may be truly sanctified.” This was a setting apart to God in sacrifice, in order that his followers would also be set apart as his followers in the same way. In heart and life.

Paul prayed that the believers might know the depths of God’s love in Jesus, that they might be filled to all the fullness of God. We are being remade in and through Jesus into the very image of God through and through. In calling and in heart.

In the end tradition tells us in keeping with Jesus’ earlier words to Peter, that Peter was to die on a cross, even as his Master, Savior and Lord had died. Peter insisted that he was not worthy, and that therefore he should be so executed on a cross, upside down. A heart which was soft, contrite, sensitive to all that is wrong not only in the world, but in one’s self.

Yes, we need a change of heart. “Change my heart oh God. Make it ever true. Change my heart oh God. May I be like You.” By Jesus and God’s love in him in and through his death for us. Together in Jesus for the world.

Published in: on April 3, 2012 at 5:44 am  Comments (3)  
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N.T. Wright on interpreting Jesus’ death in light of God’s kingdom come in him

…in John’s account, the last words of Jesus are reported as being, “It’s all done” (John 19:30), in other words, “It’s accomplished” or “It’s completed.” The echo is of Genesis: at the end of the sixth day, God completed all the work that he had done. The point was not to rescue people from creation, but to rescue creation itself. With the death of Jesus, that work is complete. Now, and only now, and only in this way can new creation come about.

How then can we interpret Jesus’ death? What models, what metaphors, what constructions can we find to do justice to it? It is, of course, easy to belittle it, to treat it as yet another example of a good man crushed by “the system,” another eager revolutionary who gave his life for the cause. Of course, there is a sense in which that’s true, but if we are to understand Jesus’ own intentions, it is far from the whole truth.

Equally, it is easy to belittle Jesus’ death theologically. This can be done by placing it solely within a framework that speaks of Jesus as the ultimate example of love—although why, without more of a framework, his death would be an act of love it is interestingly difficult to say. Or it can be done by making Jesus the representative model who goes through death to new life and thereby enables us to make the same journey “in him” or “through him.” Or, notoriously, it can be done by imagining a straightforward transaction in which a God who wanted to punish people was content to punish the innocent Jesus instead. This always, of course, leaves unanswered the question of how such a punishment could itself be just, let alone loving.

Each of these models, though, has its point to make. First, as I have argued above, there is undoubtedly a vital sense in which Jesus’ death is exemplary. At every stage in the narrative we see, acted out in the small but vital human details, that sense of healing and forgiveness, that sense of a powerful love going out to rescue and restore, that we saw in the earlier details of Jesus’ public career. He hasn’t, in other words, stopped being the same kingdom-bringing Jesus; on the contrary, what he does on the cross is the culmination and retrospective explanation of all that earlier work.

Likewise, second, there is indeed a sense in which Jesus was “representing” his people, and through them the whole world. He lived in a world of understanding in which it made sense to see the Messiah as standing in for Israel and Israel as standing in for the rest of humankind. But, important though this theme is not only in the gospels but in Paul and elsewhere, it will scarcely carry all the weight required.

There is too, third, a massive sense in which Jesus’ death is penal. Jesus has announced God’s imminent judgment on his rebel people, a judgment that would consist of devastation at the hands of Rome. He then goes ahead of his people to take precisely that judgment literally, physically and historically upon himself. “Not only in theological truth, but in historic fact, the one bore the sins of the many.”* This is both penal and substitutionary, but it is far bigger and less open to objection than some other expressions of that theory. Once you put it together with the previous model (Jesus as Messiah representing Israel and hence the world), you draw the sting of the main objections that have been advanced against it.

But I have become convinced, the more I have read and studied and prayed the story of Jesus, that all these constructions need to be put within a larger one again—the larger one that the gospels themselves are trying to insist on and that seems to me exactly in line with the aims and motivations of Jesus himself. Somehow, Jesus’ death was seen by Jesus himself, and then by those who told and ultimately wrote his story, as the ultimate means by which God’s kingdom was established. The crucifixion was the shocking answer to the prayer that God’s kingdom would come on earth as in heaven. It was the ultimate Exodus event through which the tyrant was defeated, God’s people were set free and given their fresh vocation, and God’s presence was established in their midst in a completely new way for which the Temple itself was just an advance pointer. That is why, in John’s gospel, the “glory of God”—with all the echoes of the anticipated return of YHWH to Zion—is revealed in and through Jesus, throughout his public career, in the “signs” he performed, but fully and finally as he is “lifted up” on the cross.

__________
*G.B. Caird, Jesus and the Jewish Nation (London: Athlone, 1965), p. 22.

N.T. Wright, Simply Jesus: A New Vision of Who He Was, What He Did, and Why He Matters, 184-186.

truth and love

John’s first small letter (2 John) brings truth and love together, which is the only way you can really understand either in a Christian context.

Truth telling might be understood as telling the unvarnished truth about someone or something as we see it. But I can’t help but think of God’s love expressed for his failing people (in the Old Testament/Hebrew Bible; Hosea being a prime example). That he cared for them, in spite of themselves. And that he wanted to woo and win them to himself. And care for them as a parent lovingly cares for their children.

We certainly can’t bear the weight that God does, caring for the wayward as only he can. And yet we’re told by Jesus to be merciful as our heavenly Father is merciful. To love our enemies and pray for them, so that we will be like the Father. A tall order indeed, one to be fulfilled in and through Jesus.

Truth and love can’t ever be separated for the Christian, nor ultimately. All truth is from God and God is love. Truth and love are revelations from God, what theologians call both general and special revelation.

In general revelation scientists explore creation and people base their lives on what they believe to be true, whether they see truth as relative or not. Even if their “truth” is that there is no truth- which is a distortion of course of this gift of truth from God. There are other means of establishing truth, reason being one important factor in that. Love is found among humanity in relationships especially, human to human being prominent. And there is love for what is good, experienced and appreciated as well.

Special revelation is found in scripture and in Jesus, and ultimately revealed in the good news in Jesus. In fact Jesus declared himself to be the way and the truth and the life. In that very truth is found love, the love of God in Jesus. A love which has expressed itself in dying for us, for the world. A love which is also Trinitarian, rooted in the eternal love of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit.

So when we think of truth, we always need to think of love. And when we think of love, we always need to think of truth. If we separate the two, they actually both die. They can’t exist except together. So that we must never think of one apart from the other. And we must always see them joined ultimately in a person, Jesus. In whom those of the faith live. This truth and love in Jesus to us and to the world.

out of one’s comfort zone

There is no doubt that we all like to get into some kind of zone, for most of us a routine that is to our liking. And we want life to go our way so to speak, relationships well, health of loved ones and ourselves well. And the better everything is doing in our world and beyond, the more comforting and comfortable it is.

But when Jesus calls us to come follow, he bids us come and die (Dietrich Bonhoeffer). Invariably we are taken out of our comfort zone, and put into a place in which our only hope and prayer is the Lord and to the Lord himself. Sometimes it seems like we’re just barely holding on, not so much to our faith, but more like to life itself. Of course all actually does depend on the Lord, our faith included. Even though in the mix of life, God has made us interdependent on each other in Jesus, as well.

God does comfort us in the uncomfortable places. That we might comfort others with that same comfort (2 Corinthians 1). But we will time and time again find ourselves up against it, sometimes nearly lost, or at a loss, clinging on for dear life to the faith we have. Looking to the Lord anew and afresh for what only he can give us.

I don’t like discomfort. But what’s the alternative? There is only one way in following Jesus in this life, and it’s the way of the cross. Death to self, and life to God. That is essentially what it means to be in Christ, baptized into him, into his death, burial, and indeed- resurrection. Only in this way do we experience his life. Surely we can say that to the degree we enter into this reality in our experience, to that extent we do experience his resurrection life. In the words of Paul:

I want to know Christ—yes, to know the power of his resurrection and participation in his sufferings, becoming like him in his death,

Philippians 3:10

God, Help me today to embrace my cross, the way in and through Jesus. In all the down to earth ways needed, let me not hesitate. But follow him, come what may. Give me discernment in that direction together with others in Jesus. For your love and glory to be known. Amen.

 

Published in: on March 8, 2012 at 6:12 am  Comments (2)  
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Scot McKnight on “Jesus and the undeserved cross”

Jesus,
though Son of God,
though Messiah,
though a Galilean benefactor,
though a teacher of wisdom,
though a prophet,
though righteous,
though compassionate and loving,
though a good man,
though a favorite of the people,
though steeped in Israel’s scriptures,
though aware of Israel’s traditions,
though hailed by crowds,
though accompanied by followers,
though in the City of David,
though staring at the seat of justice in Jerusalem,
though examined by the highest of authorities,
though capable of giving profound answers to life’s questions,
though responding to unjust accusations with grace,
though…though…though…all these things and many more…

… Was condemned to capital punishment and unjustly and publicly crucified at Golgotha. He was like an innocent lamb led to a slaughter, and the prophet Isaiah predicted that very thing about the Messiah (Isaiah 52-53). As the sun was eclipsed, so was justice. The darkness of the scene was the darkness of injustice. They chose to put him away, this Lamb of God, with the ultimate punishment: crucifixion.

Crucifixion is the ultimate obscenity.
Crucifixion is the ultimate deterrent.
Crucifixion involves stripping the victim in order to humiliate.
Crucifixion means a body would be picked apart by birds of prey.
Crucifixion sates the sadistic desires of the strong.
Crucifixion is reserved for vile criminals.
Crucifixion is synonymous with shame.
Crucifixion is synonymous with suffocation.
Crucifixion gives a lasting commentary on a person’s life.
Crucifixion means a person is cursed by God.

Scot McKnight, One.Life: Jesus Calls, We Follow, 185-186.

Published in: on February 26, 2012 at 7:20 am  Leave a Comment  
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giving up something for Lent

Today is Ash Wednesday, our church having a service tonight to begin Lent, symbolizing what our Lord has done for us in his death on the cross, and our repentance with ashes. I am a late comer to keeping (loosely) the church calendar year, but I think the more the better for me on that.

At the same time it is still a bit of a head scratcher to me when people talk about giving up something for Lent. Especially when they share what it might be. Seemingly meaningless, at least to my ears. Perhaps chocolate, or something else which seems trivial.

It’s interesting that the time of Lent stretching to Easter incorporates 40 church days, 46 overall on the calendar. It is thought that to rid one’s self of an old habit and start a new, takes around six weeks, or 40 days.

Actually Lent is to be a time of reflection on our Lord and his sacrifice of love for us and for the world. And a renewal of our commitment in faith to follow him. That renewal for us inevitably in this world involves ongoing repentance. So whatever one might choose to give up if one decides to keep this tradition, needs to be in that spirit and understanding.

There are certain sins which beset many of us, sins which we may easily fall into or may even have us in their grip. They may seem small and nagging, yet all sin looms large when it comes to real life, and the impact on it. Often they are sins which in one way or another violate love. And in a sense all sins do. I think here of love to God first, and then love to our neighbor as ourselves.

We could list sins. Some are noted today, even considered unavoidable by many. And then others are accepted with the idea that everyone does it. And then others are oh so subtle. They may even be couched with some good intentions. Or there may be good along with what is not good.

The question being, are we following our Lord truly in what we are doing? And if not, then we should repent of it, seek the Lord so as to follow him afresh, looking for no less than a change of heart along with practice.

And we need to occupy ourselves with something new in place of the old.   Just the thought of how we are following Jesus is a good one for this. It will end up something in terms of love and obedience to him and his commands. There ought to be in our hearts a desire to want to please him. This is not just a religious practice, but one of commitment and devotion to God in God’s love to us in Jesus.

Of course this is all grace. If one makes a commitment, but fails along the way, that is an opportunity then and there to repent and go on. Perhaps what you gave up is only temporary, so that you can strengthen your focus on our Lord. That is of course well and good, also.

I think I know what I’ll give up, starting today. In my case I may be able to go back to it, but it can become a sin to me. Part of the change God is working in me. As along with others in Jesus we follow on in this life in the way of the cross as those who by the Spirit begin to share in his resurrection with the hope of the full resurrection to come.

Rodney Reeves on the death of “Alice” and her unborn son in light of God’s cross-shaped power and wisdom

We were walking up to the place where we would soon bury his daughter when the grieving father stopped in his tracks. “Ron” stood a few yards away from the casket  that held his daughter and her unborn son. “Alice” was a beautiful young woman, in her twenties, expecting her first child after only a few years of marriage. Tragically, she was suddenly taken from her husband, her family, her friends, due to a stroke that claimed her life. It all happened so fast. One day she’s calling her mom and dad on the phone, excited about the plans she was making for the new arrival. The next day her parents are summoned to a hospital, arriving just in time to watch their daughter and grandchild die. Life changes like lightning flashes. So it didn’t surprise me when Ron wasn’t ready to say goodbye to his sweet, wonderful daughter on the day of her funeral. I walked up beside him, put my arm around his waist, and didn’t say a word. His gaze never shifted away from the casket, surrounded by chairs and flowers, resting in the shadows, shielded from the sun by a tent. Then, as if he owed me an explanation for the delay, he said with deep sadness in his eyes, “I just need to take it all in. I want to stand here and take it all in–the moment, the pain, the sorrow, the heartache–all of it.” After several minutes of standing in silence, soaking up the dreadful moment on that beautiful sunny day, we walked up to the tent, said prayers, read Scripture, wept and sang together….

When I think about Alice’s death, it seemed like a horrible ending to a difficult life. When she was a toddler, she tipped an urn filled with hot coffee all over her chest and arms. Years of surgery and therapy brought constant pain and agony for this beautiful blonde-haired, blue-eyed girl. When she was an adolescent, an airplane crash nearly took her life-insomnia accompanied “survivor guilt.” Eventually things got better. It seemed like her life was just beginning–married, expecting her first-born. Then she died. I couldn’t believe the news. Alice was a sweet, quiet, kind young woman. My first thought was, “Why would you do this, God? She’s had it so hard. She’s such a good person. Why all the trouble? Why all the heartache? And to end it all like this? This isn’t right. It’s not fair. She didn’t bring any of this on herself. She wasn’t a reckless person. She wasn’t some hardened miscreant asking for trouble. All she did was try to quietly live her life. And this is the thanks she gets? It seems to me you owe her an apology–one big apology.”

Sometimes, in my darkest moments , I pray some very heretical prayers. But when the family gathered around her casket the day we buried Alice, all I could think to pray was how much we needed God’s grace. We confessed we were brokenhearted. We confessed we were wounded. We confessed we were perplexed. But in our weakness we tried to find the strength of God. Then, after the final amen, with the scent of carnations filling the air, I walked away from the tent only to hear the deep, heartfelt notes of a familiar song. Looking back I saw the whole family, father, mother, sister, husband, grandparents, all surrounding the casket, holding hands and singing defiantly, “When peace like a river attendeth my way, when sorrow like sea billows roll…” A sacrifice of praise. A sweet aroma of joy and sorrow, song and lament, life and death mingled together. On one hand, to those who are perishing, such praise sound foolish; our faith reeks of weakness–the “opiate of the people,” as Marx puts it. We believers, on the other hand, call it the “fragrance of Christ”–the power and wisdom of God.

Rodney Reeves, Spirituality According to Paul: Imitating the Apostle of Christ, 40, 52-53.

Published in: on February 5, 2012 at 6:15 am  Comments (2)  
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