The book of Exodus destroys most of the warm, fuzzy feelings we normally attribute to God. Although there is a sense of real relationships with Moses, God comes across as an incomprehensible tyrant.
And that's just it. I can't comprehend it. I don't can't understand the depths of God's jealousy for the people of God. And I write that intentionally - not jealousy of but jealousy for. It seems like in God's ultimate cosmic mind, there is no other option for his people - there is only him and for them to disregard him and his power for their lives, it taints the relationship. It colors it in a way that cannot be repaired and he can no longer even be around them because of his holiness.
Go up to the land flowing with milk and honey. But I will not go with you, because you are a stiff-necked people and I might destroy you on the way.
When the people heard these distressing words, they began to mourn and no one put on any ornaments. For the LORD had said to Moses, 'Tell the Israelites, "You are a stiff-necked people. If I were to go with you even for a moment, I might destroy you.' (Exodus 33:3-5a)
But our human perception of tyranny is not one of oppression, it is a misunderstanding of the completeness of God's holiness and righteousness. God's rightness. We live in a world that believes it is a human right to not have consequences for our decisions, that somehow we are not bound by any law or rule because when we are caught, 'we didn't mean it.' In order to continue on the selfish road, we expect that those in authority will have mercy each and every time and when they respond with discipline or punishment because of bad behavior, we cry out "Bully!"
But God is neither a bully nor a tyrant: he is holy. And he desperately desires something entirely different for his children. Even though our scriptures seem to make out that God wanted to destroy the people of Israel at the mountain, he cannot because they are his treasure. His discipline is postponed which (hopefully) we'll look at tomorrow.
Questions:
1. What is one time you deserved punishment and received it?
2. What is one time you deserved punishment and avoided it?
3. From which one did you learn more? What did you learn?
Sunday, July 26, 2015
Friday, July 24, 2015
Etching
Some of my relatives still write letters. It's a beautiful thing - a long, lost art if you ask me, but writing letters, of course, has regressed to the point of near extinction by the facility of e-mail or text messaging. The instantaneousness of receiving information far outweighs the benefits of a paid envelope, right?
Every birthday or anniversary, my parents send me a card. Yes, cards are nice and they make me smile, the sentiment helps to brighten a day, but what I really search for is their handwriting. They both have amazing script, loops and lines all in place. If their handwriting was put in a 'lineup,' I could probably be able to pick them out at first choice.
And beyond the visible swirls and twirls of the writing itself, is the deeper appreciation for taking time to write something to me that will take almost two weeks to reach me. By the time the letter arrives, everything in our lives could have changed, but that one letter that reaches me is a lasting impression about what was important to them at the moment, so it becomes important to me also.
It's the beauty of writing a letter: time, focus, legibility, depth of foresight (you have to know what you are going to write beforehand. There's no erasing)
Moses was on top of the mountain a long time receiving a letter. Forty days, we read, and the Israelites were getting a little impatient about this fated family vacation in the desert. They approach Aaron, Moses' brother, and push him, "Come make us a god who will go before us. As for this fellow Moses who brought us up out of Egypt, we don't know what happened to him.'
When life becomes stagnant, stale or full of nervousness, we tend to think that God has abandoned us. We need instant gratification for the calming of our senses and we have a penchant for quick, non-thought-out action. It doesn't matter what we do as long as we do something. For the Israelites standing in the shadow of a Mountain of God, their assumption was that God had done something to Moses so it was time to not only get a new God but get a new Moses, too.
But during the time that they had been waiting, God was crafting his own Magna Carta. When the Lord finished speaking to Moses on Mt. Sinai, he gave him the two tablets of the covenant law, the tablets of stone inscribed by the finger of God. (Ex. 31:18)
The tablets were inscribed on the front and the back. (Can you imagine that? God's own handwriting?) Unlike writing an e-mail, scratching the entire covenantal law into stone takes time. You all know how much focus it takes to write a neat, concise letter - preparation and careful legibility. These forty days God was preparing the gift of the Law for the Israelites, that which would keep them safe in the community and in close connection with God. But the Israelites ruined it with their impatience.
Questions:
1. When was the last time you got a handwritten letter? What was it about? Did you keep it?
2. What kinds of things are you most impatient about? How does that affect your decision making processes?
3. If you could write a handwritten letter today telling them about the most important thing in your life, who would you write it to and what would it entail?
Every birthday or anniversary, my parents send me a card. Yes, cards are nice and they make me smile, the sentiment helps to brighten a day, but what I really search for is their handwriting. They both have amazing script, loops and lines all in place. If their handwriting was put in a 'lineup,' I could probably be able to pick them out at first choice.
And beyond the visible swirls and twirls of the writing itself, is the deeper appreciation for taking time to write something to me that will take almost two weeks to reach me. By the time the letter arrives, everything in our lives could have changed, but that one letter that reaches me is a lasting impression about what was important to them at the moment, so it becomes important to me also.
It's the beauty of writing a letter: time, focus, legibility, depth of foresight (you have to know what you are going to write beforehand. There's no erasing)
Moses was on top of the mountain a long time receiving a letter. Forty days, we read, and the Israelites were getting a little impatient about this fated family vacation in the desert. They approach Aaron, Moses' brother, and push him, "Come make us a god who will go before us. As for this fellow Moses who brought us up out of Egypt, we don't know what happened to him.'
When life becomes stagnant, stale or full of nervousness, we tend to think that God has abandoned us. We need instant gratification for the calming of our senses and we have a penchant for quick, non-thought-out action. It doesn't matter what we do as long as we do something. For the Israelites standing in the shadow of a Mountain of God, their assumption was that God had done something to Moses so it was time to not only get a new God but get a new Moses, too.
But during the time that they had been waiting, God was crafting his own Magna Carta. When the Lord finished speaking to Moses on Mt. Sinai, he gave him the two tablets of the covenant law, the tablets of stone inscribed by the finger of God. (Ex. 31:18)
The tablets were inscribed on the front and the back. (Can you imagine that? God's own handwriting?) Unlike writing an e-mail, scratching the entire covenantal law into stone takes time. You all know how much focus it takes to write a neat, concise letter - preparation and careful legibility. These forty days God was preparing the gift of the Law for the Israelites, that which would keep them safe in the community and in close connection with God. But the Israelites ruined it with their impatience.
Questions:
1. When was the last time you got a handwritten letter? What was it about? Did you keep it?
2. What kinds of things are you most impatient about? How does that affect your decision making processes?
3. If you could write a handwritten letter today telling them about the most important thing in your life, who would you write it to and what would it entail?
Thursday, July 23, 2015
Atonement
I stumbled across this in devotions this morning from Exodus. Naturally, I had passed over it multiple times because I am an impatient, clumsy reader, but chapter 30: 11-16 struck my fancy. I'll put a few questions at the end.
Then the Lord said to Moses, 'When you take a census of the Israelites to count them, each one must pay the LORD a ransom for his life at the time he his counted. Then no plague will come on them when you number them. Each one who crosses over to those already counted is to give half shekel, according to the sanctuary shekel, which weighs twenty gerahs. (5.8 grams per half shekel) This half shekel is an offering to the LORD. All who cross over, those twenty years old or more, are to give an offering to the LORD. The rich are not to give more than a half shekel and the poor are not to give less when you make the offering to the LORD to atone for your lives. Receive the atonement money from the Israelites and use it for the service of the tent of meeting. IT will be a memorial for the Israelites before the LORD, making atonement for your lives.
I don't know why this passage irks me. Perhaps because it makes it sound as if we can answer the age old question, "How much is a life worth?" by responding, "Well, it seems like it's weighing in at 5.8 grams of metal." God speaks to Moses, and it would be interesting to get Moses' thoughts about the atonement, the reconciliation of humanity to God. Did Moses wonder what It was about money that could appease God's wrath through coinage?
But there is a deeper question here, I think. At base we are getting to the root of all evil - the love of money. Perhaps there is a point to which God says, "I've blessed you all be freeing you from slavery, I've brought you out from Egypt on your way to the Promised Land, and I don't want you encumbering yourselves with the love of financial stability. God provides. To give back only reemphasizes how great is his goodness."
I love, though, that the rich cannot give more in an attempt to buy God's mercy and the poor cannot opt out. It levels the playing ground and even though the poor may or may not be able to shoulder the weight as much, there is a sense of joy to be on the same ground as your neighbors.
Questions:
1. Does your church, or your ministry group, ever talk about money? (Alternatively, do they ever stop talking about it?)
2. In what ways does the sacrifice of money make an atonement, a reconciliation between you and God? In what ways does this seem strained?
3. Does God really need the money? How are the finances of the church used? Do you know? Do you want to know?
4. The scripture speaks of crossing over to be counted. This is a very public place where the perception is that once you've crossed over to be counted among the faithful, there is not only atonement, but safety from plagues. What plagues modern day faithful who refrain from being counted?
Then the Lord said to Moses, 'When you take a census of the Israelites to count them, each one must pay the LORD a ransom for his life at the time he his counted. Then no plague will come on them when you number them. Each one who crosses over to those already counted is to give half shekel, according to the sanctuary shekel, which weighs twenty gerahs. (5.8 grams per half shekel) This half shekel is an offering to the LORD. All who cross over, those twenty years old or more, are to give an offering to the LORD. The rich are not to give more than a half shekel and the poor are not to give less when you make the offering to the LORD to atone for your lives. Receive the atonement money from the Israelites and use it for the service of the tent of meeting. IT will be a memorial for the Israelites before the LORD, making atonement for your lives.
I don't know why this passage irks me. Perhaps because it makes it sound as if we can answer the age old question, "How much is a life worth?" by responding, "Well, it seems like it's weighing in at 5.8 grams of metal." God speaks to Moses, and it would be interesting to get Moses' thoughts about the atonement, the reconciliation of humanity to God. Did Moses wonder what It was about money that could appease God's wrath through coinage?
But there is a deeper question here, I think. At base we are getting to the root of all evil - the love of money. Perhaps there is a point to which God says, "I've blessed you all be freeing you from slavery, I've brought you out from Egypt on your way to the Promised Land, and I don't want you encumbering yourselves with the love of financial stability. God provides. To give back only reemphasizes how great is his goodness."
I love, though, that the rich cannot give more in an attempt to buy God's mercy and the poor cannot opt out. It levels the playing ground and even though the poor may or may not be able to shoulder the weight as much, there is a sense of joy to be on the same ground as your neighbors.
Questions:
1. Does your church, or your ministry group, ever talk about money? (Alternatively, do they ever stop talking about it?)
2. In what ways does the sacrifice of money make an atonement, a reconciliation between you and God? In what ways does this seem strained?
3. Does God really need the money? How are the finances of the church used? Do you know? Do you want to know?
4. The scripture speaks of crossing over to be counted. This is a very public place where the perception is that once you've crossed over to be counted among the faithful, there is not only atonement, but safety from plagues. What plagues modern day faithful who refrain from being counted?
Wednesday, July 22, 2015
The Slog
I'm back to reading through the entire Bible - from front to back; from 'In the beginning' to 'The grace of the Lord Jesus be with God's people. Amen.'
It's a daunting thing to read this book, one that feels like I have read so many times but in truth, I'm not sure I've read it deeply ever. I have the tendency to skip over vast swaths of OT genealogies and laws/statutes/ordinances and dive headfirst into the fresh water of the narrative stories and then the New Testament.
But I bought this new Bible and its got two inch lined margins on the sides which are dedicated to scripted thoughts from the texts and as much as I like to write, how do you go deep when reading through sections of the OT like the one I'm currently battling through - Exodus 25-31, where Moses is receiving the exact requirements for what will be included in the tabernacle.
Yawn.
I don't care about Aaron's vestments, or the size and composition of the lampstands, the numbers of curtains and what hue they are to be dyed. No wonder people don't read the Bible from cover to cover. Reading through this is like walking through two feet of fresh snow wearing a full snowsuit and boots. A real slog. It's tiring and sweaty and, frankly, I just want to skip it but as I read through all of the ordinances about the worship space, I realized the beginnings of our fascination with getting the esthetics right for worship. It's demanded and required for the good of those who are leading it.
Chapter 28 verse 34,35 the gold bells and the pomegranates are to alternate round the hem of the robe. Aaron must wear it when he ministers. The sound of the bells will be heard when he enters the Holy Place before the LORD and we comes out so that he will not die.
I don't get it. Aaron will die if he doesn't wear the bells on his robe? I'm not trying to sound irreverent, but is God really going to be snuck up on?
But our fascination with the adiaphora, the small things of insignificance in the realm of Kingdom things, can be talked about at length. Some of it is great conversation specifically when talking about tradition and why we do things.
Here are some questions to ponder:
1. What are some of the things that occur in my worship service that I don't pay attention to anymore?
2. What are some of the esthetics of space that occur in the sanctuary where I attend? What is the artwork? What is the symbolism? How has the space changed since I've attended?
3. What does the pastor, or worship leader, wear? Is this essential? Is it distracting? What is symbolically being said by the garments of the worship leader?
4. In the worship service, what are the most important things? What is it that is not adiaphora?
It's a daunting thing to read this book, one that feels like I have read so many times but in truth, I'm not sure I've read it deeply ever. I have the tendency to skip over vast swaths of OT genealogies and laws/statutes/ordinances and dive headfirst into the fresh water of the narrative stories and then the New Testament.
But I bought this new Bible and its got two inch lined margins on the sides which are dedicated to scripted thoughts from the texts and as much as I like to write, how do you go deep when reading through sections of the OT like the one I'm currently battling through - Exodus 25-31, where Moses is receiving the exact requirements for what will be included in the tabernacle.
Yawn.
I don't care about Aaron's vestments, or the size and composition of the lampstands, the numbers of curtains and what hue they are to be dyed. No wonder people don't read the Bible from cover to cover. Reading through this is like walking through two feet of fresh snow wearing a full snowsuit and boots. A real slog. It's tiring and sweaty and, frankly, I just want to skip it but as I read through all of the ordinances about the worship space, I realized the beginnings of our fascination with getting the esthetics right for worship. It's demanded and required for the good of those who are leading it.
Chapter 28 verse 34,35 the gold bells and the pomegranates are to alternate round the hem of the robe. Aaron must wear it when he ministers. The sound of the bells will be heard when he enters the Holy Place before the LORD and we comes out so that he will not die.
I don't get it. Aaron will die if he doesn't wear the bells on his robe? I'm not trying to sound irreverent, but is God really going to be snuck up on?
But our fascination with the adiaphora, the small things of insignificance in the realm of Kingdom things, can be talked about at length. Some of it is great conversation specifically when talking about tradition and why we do things.
Here are some questions to ponder:
1. What are some of the things that occur in my worship service that I don't pay attention to anymore?
2. What are some of the esthetics of space that occur in the sanctuary where I attend? What is the artwork? What is the symbolism? How has the space changed since I've attended?
3. What does the pastor, or worship leader, wear? Is this essential? Is it distracting? What is symbolically being said by the garments of the worship leader?
4. In the worship service, what are the most important things? What is it that is not adiaphora?
Friday, May 1, 2015
Raider's of the Ark
We had some pretty decent rains in the last couple of days here in southeast Queensland; enough water to cause minor flooding, but not enough to send streams of animals heading for the nearest ocean liner. Ironically, as the gates of heavens have opened (not the springs underneath as the Bible bespeaks) I have been reading the biblical account of the Flood. As we bypass the Sunday School version about what a wonderful, nice story this is about a bearded five hundred year old Moses standing on top of his ark, zebras and kangaroos surrounding him, waving at whomever is drawing the picture, we notice the darkness of the story - what's at the root of this aquatic episode.
"The Lord saw how great the wickedness of the human race had become on the earth and that every inclination of the thoughts of the human heart was only evil all the time. The LORD regretted that he had made human beings on the earth and his heart was troubled. So the LORD said, 'I will wipe from the face of the earth the human race that I have created - and with them the animals, the birds, and the creatures that move along the ground - for I regret that I have made them." (Genesis 6:6,7)
This story isn't about how nice the animals pranced with each other trapped up in a wooden cage for almost half a year. This is not a story about the animals as it is always made to be - the story of the salvation by wooden beams, this is what the ark is about. The entire human race, the writer of Genesis proclaims, has nothing but evil emanating from its heart. Enough evil to actually cause God's heart to be troubled and to have God himself be rueful about the actual creation, one he intended and saw to be 'Good!'
This is a story about the continued desecration of relationships (angels and women?), thoughts and actions overwhelmed with evil so that God's plan A is to erase the terrestrial chalkboard and start again. If only one could be found righteous, then everything could be started again.
Enter Noah - "Comfort."
We know the rest of the story, that after riding out the months, trapped up with all sorts of zoological, veterinary and scatological problems, not even to say what the squabbles between the carnivores and all the other species would be, we get this amusing blessing after stepping out of the boat.
Then God blessed Noah and his sons, saying to them, 'Be fruitful and increase in number and fill the earth. The fear and dread of you will fall on all the beasts of the earth, and on all the birds in the sky, on every creature that moves along the ground, and on all the fish in the sea; they are given into your hands. Everything that lives and moves about will be food for you, just as I gave you the green plants, now I give you everything. (Genesis 9:1-3)
If I'm Noah, I'm thinking these three things:
1. Yes, vegetarianism ended!
2. You mean, now they're going to be afraid of me? For the last five months I've had two cows walking in front of me and I've been wondering what it would be like to cut one of them up, throw some nice pieces of it's ribs over a warm fire and eat them? Now you're telling me its okay to eat them? Now I have to chase them? (Did you ever wonder how Noah decided which ones would taste good? I have this vision of him chasing after a skunk...)
3. What am I going to do with all this wood?
Once again, that's not what this story is about, but my brain goes different places at different times.
To me, as we read the Flood account again, its important that we reflect on the purpose of the story; that humanity's turn away from the creator was actually the reason for the flood. It makes me wonder where our world is going today. God isn't going to flood the world again, but... Let's hope we can raid the ark for some idea of how to change the tune of hearts today. I'd hate to be put onto another ark with a pair of every kind of spider in the world.
"The Lord saw how great the wickedness of the human race had become on the earth and that every inclination of the thoughts of the human heart was only evil all the time. The LORD regretted that he had made human beings on the earth and his heart was troubled. So the LORD said, 'I will wipe from the face of the earth the human race that I have created - and with them the animals, the birds, and the creatures that move along the ground - for I regret that I have made them." (Genesis 6:6,7)
This story isn't about how nice the animals pranced with each other trapped up in a wooden cage for almost half a year. This is not a story about the animals as it is always made to be - the story of the salvation by wooden beams, this is what the ark is about. The entire human race, the writer of Genesis proclaims, has nothing but evil emanating from its heart. Enough evil to actually cause God's heart to be troubled and to have God himself be rueful about the actual creation, one he intended and saw to be 'Good!'
This is a story about the continued desecration of relationships (angels and women?), thoughts and actions overwhelmed with evil so that God's plan A is to erase the terrestrial chalkboard and start again. If only one could be found righteous, then everything could be started again.
Enter Noah - "Comfort."
We know the rest of the story, that after riding out the months, trapped up with all sorts of zoological, veterinary and scatological problems, not even to say what the squabbles between the carnivores and all the other species would be, we get this amusing blessing after stepping out of the boat.
Then God blessed Noah and his sons, saying to them, 'Be fruitful and increase in number and fill the earth. The fear and dread of you will fall on all the beasts of the earth, and on all the birds in the sky, on every creature that moves along the ground, and on all the fish in the sea; they are given into your hands. Everything that lives and moves about will be food for you, just as I gave you the green plants, now I give you everything. (Genesis 9:1-3)
If I'm Noah, I'm thinking these three things:
1. Yes, vegetarianism ended!
2. You mean, now they're going to be afraid of me? For the last five months I've had two cows walking in front of me and I've been wondering what it would be like to cut one of them up, throw some nice pieces of it's ribs over a warm fire and eat them? Now you're telling me its okay to eat them? Now I have to chase them? (Did you ever wonder how Noah decided which ones would taste good? I have this vision of him chasing after a skunk...)
3. What am I going to do with all this wood?
Once again, that's not what this story is about, but my brain goes different places at different times.
To me, as we read the Flood account again, its important that we reflect on the purpose of the story; that humanity's turn away from the creator was actually the reason for the flood. It makes me wonder where our world is going today. God isn't going to flood the world again, but... Let's hope we can raid the ark for some idea of how to change the tune of hearts today. I'd hate to be put onto another ark with a pair of every kind of spider in the world.
Tuesday, April 28, 2015
The Dump
Yesterday, I went for a run at the local park. In the middle of the park is a generous sized pond; its circumference is 1.2 kilometers so I know exactly how far I'm running. As I ran, I saw various waterbirds, ibises, reed runners, ducks and geese, swimming contentedly in various patterns near the shore picking through the weeds for bugs and pond scum alike. In the middle of the pond are two islands with beautiful trees gracing the islets like toupees on a submerged head. It's a nice place to run laps, but sometimes there are things there that make me scratch my head.
As I was coming down the hill to the park, I spotted a man and his best friend - his dog. This scene probably plays itself out time and time again throughout every town and city where dogs and people walk, but the man's best friend was in the middle of a bowel movement carefully laying a log cabin in the middle of the grass while his watcher stood above him gazing at the setting sun over the pond. Then, when the dog had finished adding the roof to his cabin, the man looked around intently to see if anyone was watching...
And then he moved on leaving Fido's steaming summer home alongside the path.
Oh no he didn't. I'm not one who is usually a stickler for rules, but there was something about the man's attitude that frustrated me more than the actual dump left glistening in the grass. I cleared my throat and he saw me coming. So he kept going. Oh, yeah, I'm going to give this man a piece of my mind. He knows the rules. He looked around before leaving the crap there. It's my moral obligation to do this, to stick it to him, to rub his face in the mess that he left. That will make him think twice about leaving his dog's excrement in the park next time.
I ran faster to catch up with him and the pooch, and in my righteousness I was concocting various biting remarks for his inability to pick up after himself. And then I passed him. It was apparent that he knew what he had done wrong, but he gave me the death stare as if willing me to say something so that he could respond in kind and escalate my own inflated sense of self-righteousness. Maybe it was self-preservation, maybe something else, but all that I could do was smile. It was not a smile of commiseration (I didn't know why he was in such a hurry) but of condescension. I don't need to say anything because I've got the law on my side. I could destroy you if I wanted to. I kept running.
The longer I think about yesterday's episode, the more I think about how I was wrong. I acted like a modern day Pharisee. How many times have I done something that was not necessarily within the rules - left my own metaphorical steaming mess behind - and someone has not pointed it out to me? How many times do I sit in judgment over those who are in a hurry because I am not currently being caught in the midst of my sin.
Jesus seemed to catch people in the act all the time but instead of acting like the Pharisees, he responded with grace - go and sin no more. (As if that is possible). He didn't rub their faces in it, creating a dislike for him (nobody likes to have their face rubbed in their own sin). Unlike the disciples, he didn't demand God to send destruction from above; he didn't complain about the mess that has been left.
He just cleaned it up.
He picked up all the crap and got rid of it. And sometimes people aren't even aware of what he did.
That's what I should have done. I should have grabbed a plastic bag and without the condescending look, without the self-righteous attitude, I should have done what seems more like what a Christian should be doing in this world: sometimes it is akin to washing feet; sometimes it is doing the unthinkable to administer grace. Not for our own bolstering, but for the fostering of God's kingdom here on earth. Some might say this enables the sinner to keep on sinning, to not take responsibility for their own sin, but I'd say, the next time they make a lap back to that place where they left the dump, they might notice that someone else had to pick it up and then, this small kernel of guilt might lead them to repentance and changed life.
I'll see if I can follow my own advice next time.
As I was coming down the hill to the park, I spotted a man and his best friend - his dog. This scene probably plays itself out time and time again throughout every town and city where dogs and people walk, but the man's best friend was in the middle of a bowel movement carefully laying a log cabin in the middle of the grass while his watcher stood above him gazing at the setting sun over the pond. Then, when the dog had finished adding the roof to his cabin, the man looked around intently to see if anyone was watching...
And then he moved on leaving Fido's steaming summer home alongside the path.
Oh no he didn't. I'm not one who is usually a stickler for rules, but there was something about the man's attitude that frustrated me more than the actual dump left glistening in the grass. I cleared my throat and he saw me coming. So he kept going. Oh, yeah, I'm going to give this man a piece of my mind. He knows the rules. He looked around before leaving the crap there. It's my moral obligation to do this, to stick it to him, to rub his face in the mess that he left. That will make him think twice about leaving his dog's excrement in the park next time.
I ran faster to catch up with him and the pooch, and in my righteousness I was concocting various biting remarks for his inability to pick up after himself. And then I passed him. It was apparent that he knew what he had done wrong, but he gave me the death stare as if willing me to say something so that he could respond in kind and escalate my own inflated sense of self-righteousness. Maybe it was self-preservation, maybe something else, but all that I could do was smile. It was not a smile of commiseration (I didn't know why he was in such a hurry) but of condescension. I don't need to say anything because I've got the law on my side. I could destroy you if I wanted to. I kept running.
The longer I think about yesterday's episode, the more I think about how I was wrong. I acted like a modern day Pharisee. How many times have I done something that was not necessarily within the rules - left my own metaphorical steaming mess behind - and someone has not pointed it out to me? How many times do I sit in judgment over those who are in a hurry because I am not currently being caught in the midst of my sin.
Jesus seemed to catch people in the act all the time but instead of acting like the Pharisees, he responded with grace - go and sin no more. (As if that is possible). He didn't rub their faces in it, creating a dislike for him (nobody likes to have their face rubbed in their own sin). Unlike the disciples, he didn't demand God to send destruction from above; he didn't complain about the mess that has been left.
He just cleaned it up.
He picked up all the crap and got rid of it. And sometimes people aren't even aware of what he did.
That's what I should have done. I should have grabbed a plastic bag and without the condescending look, without the self-righteous attitude, I should have done what seems more like what a Christian should be doing in this world: sometimes it is akin to washing feet; sometimes it is doing the unthinkable to administer grace. Not for our own bolstering, but for the fostering of God's kingdom here on earth. Some might say this enables the sinner to keep on sinning, to not take responsibility for their own sin, but I'd say, the next time they make a lap back to that place where they left the dump, they might notice that someone else had to pick it up and then, this small kernel of guilt might lead them to repentance and changed life.
I'll see if I can follow my own advice next time.
Monday, April 27, 2015
Rule Over It
I just got a new Bible. It's not pretty; in fact, I think it's the polar opposite - it's drab dark blue with five words: Holy Bible - New International Version. On the inside there are two inch, lined margins on every page which allow me the opportunity to reflect on the pages themselves. The last Bible I wore out from constant 4pt scribbling in the margins, but now I can read it.
I never do this, but I'm starting at Genesis: Many I meet give me advice on how to read the Bible; start at three different places, maybe one of Paul's letters in the New Testament, explore the Psalms or Proverbs, but I'm going against my normal biblical instinct to write about Genesis first. In the beginning...
I've read it lots of times, but my eyes stuck fast on the words in 1:28 right after God creates Adam and Eve and then blesses the humans: "Be fruitful and increase in number; fill the earth and subdue it. Rule over the fish in the sea and the birds in the sky and over every living creature that moves on the ground."
Yes! I, as a human, like those words. Subdue, rule over, multiply! We're good at those things because the idea of power (borne in those words) is our favorite breakfast of champions. To feel power is to feel alive. To feel the opposite, to have it acted against us - being subdued, ruled over and divided (the opposite of multiplication) - those things cause us fear and we rear up against them. When God spoke to Adam and Eve (pre-fall) his blessing includes power for good over the earth.
But then I am struck by the immensity of the contradiction which occurs later (post-fall). Cain is distressed by God's seeming dismissal of his offering. He has worked diligently toiling for the sin of his father. (2:17,19 "Cursed is the ground because of you (Adam); through painful toil you will eat food from it all the days of your life...By the sweat of your brow you will eat your food until you return to the ground, since from it you were taken; for dust you are and to dust you will return.") We have this heightened sense of the futility of farmers who not only can't trust the elements, but the harvest is not always fruitful either.
Here's the sinful contradiction: 3:8 After Cain was upset and jealous because of God's preference for Abel's offering it reads, Now Cain said to his brother Abel, 'Let's go out to the field.' While they were in the field, Cain attacked his brother Abel and killed him.
The murder is great, but the premeditation, the invitation to destruction, is what gets me. Cain, it seems, knowingly planned to destroy his brother because of jealousy.
Unfortunately, it plays out far too often in this world. I don't know how many funerals that I have attended where the family is at odds because of the will. It's a double meaning - the literal will of the deceased, and the willful jealousy over objects of a lifetime of attrition. Brothers and sisters are destroyed and relationships are metaphorically murdered over an antique vase or stamp collection. It's the willful sin of covetousness, or a perceived slight, that bring us to a place of fratricide.
God's precognition to Cain's jealousy, after Cain's almost disconnected attitude to the reality of the upcoming murder, is poignant and soaked in pain. 4:6 Then the LORD said to Cain, 'Why are you angry? Why is your face downcast? If you do what is right, will you not be accepted? But if you do not do what is right, sin is crouching at your door; it desires to have you, but you must...
Rule Over It!"
We don't talk about sin much anymore; we're more inclined to intentionally speak of grace and more intentioned to act as if God has already flushed our dirty stool of sin before we've dumped it. We know that God will forgive us, so we willfully act against what we know to be right. Sin crouches at our door waiting to spring. It is not a devious little imp with pitchfork in hand, it is an attractive option to the goodness of God - it makes us believe that we are gods and it give us the power of God, to create and destroy. But God calls us to rule over that sin - the same sin of our father Adam. Subdue the lurking beast, rule over it and do not let it multiply.
Is there sin in your own life which is crouching outside your door? Or, have you already invited it across the threshold, welcoming it as if a special guest? Do you have rule over sin in your life?
I never do this, but I'm starting at Genesis: Many I meet give me advice on how to read the Bible; start at three different places, maybe one of Paul's letters in the New Testament, explore the Psalms or Proverbs, but I'm going against my normal biblical instinct to write about Genesis first. In the beginning...
I've read it lots of times, but my eyes stuck fast on the words in 1:28 right after God creates Adam and Eve and then blesses the humans: "Be fruitful and increase in number; fill the earth and subdue it. Rule over the fish in the sea and the birds in the sky and over every living creature that moves on the ground."
Yes! I, as a human, like those words. Subdue, rule over, multiply! We're good at those things because the idea of power (borne in those words) is our favorite breakfast of champions. To feel power is to feel alive. To feel the opposite, to have it acted against us - being subdued, ruled over and divided (the opposite of multiplication) - those things cause us fear and we rear up against them. When God spoke to Adam and Eve (pre-fall) his blessing includes power for good over the earth.
But then I am struck by the immensity of the contradiction which occurs later (post-fall). Cain is distressed by God's seeming dismissal of his offering. He has worked diligently toiling for the sin of his father. (2:17,19 "Cursed is the ground because of you (Adam); through painful toil you will eat food from it all the days of your life...By the sweat of your brow you will eat your food until you return to the ground, since from it you were taken; for dust you are and to dust you will return.") We have this heightened sense of the futility of farmers who not only can't trust the elements, but the harvest is not always fruitful either.
Here's the sinful contradiction: 3:8 After Cain was upset and jealous because of God's preference for Abel's offering it reads, Now Cain said to his brother Abel, 'Let's go out to the field.' While they were in the field, Cain attacked his brother Abel and killed him.
The murder is great, but the premeditation, the invitation to destruction, is what gets me. Cain, it seems, knowingly planned to destroy his brother because of jealousy.
Unfortunately, it plays out far too often in this world. I don't know how many funerals that I have attended where the family is at odds because of the will. It's a double meaning - the literal will of the deceased, and the willful jealousy over objects of a lifetime of attrition. Brothers and sisters are destroyed and relationships are metaphorically murdered over an antique vase or stamp collection. It's the willful sin of covetousness, or a perceived slight, that bring us to a place of fratricide.
God's precognition to Cain's jealousy, after Cain's almost disconnected attitude to the reality of the upcoming murder, is poignant and soaked in pain. 4:6 Then the LORD said to Cain, 'Why are you angry? Why is your face downcast? If you do what is right, will you not be accepted? But if you do not do what is right, sin is crouching at your door; it desires to have you, but you must...
Rule Over It!"
We don't talk about sin much anymore; we're more inclined to intentionally speak of grace and more intentioned to act as if God has already flushed our dirty stool of sin before we've dumped it. We know that God will forgive us, so we willfully act against what we know to be right. Sin crouches at our door waiting to spring. It is not a devious little imp with pitchfork in hand, it is an attractive option to the goodness of God - it makes us believe that we are gods and it give us the power of God, to create and destroy. But God calls us to rule over that sin - the same sin of our father Adam. Subdue the lurking beast, rule over it and do not let it multiply.
Is there sin in your own life which is crouching outside your door? Or, have you already invited it across the threshold, welcoming it as if a special guest? Do you have rule over sin in your life?
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