By Benjamin A. Radtke

He plants a vineyard on a hill;

He toils to dig and clear and till.

He builds a tower, press, and wall;

He spends his strength, his sweat, his all.

He gives to choicest vines a root,

And waits for finest fruit.

He waits for finest fruit—but no—

He finds a crop of hate and woe.

He sends his servants, seeking why;

He hears his tenants’ violent cry.

He weeps to see this tragic view,

And asks, “What shall I do?”

He asks, “What shall I do for them?

These rotting fruits upon the stem,

These vines so wild and overgrown,

These tenants hard and cold as stone?”

He hopes that they might yet be won,

And says, “I’ll send my son.”

He says, “I’ll send my only son;

He’ll do what they have left undone.

He’ll bear good fruit that pleases me;

He’ll bear their sin upon the tree.

He’ll hang outside the city wall;

And spend his life, his all.

“He’ll spend his life, his all, his best;

He’ll rise up from his holy rest.

He’ll throw those wicked tenants out;

He’ll put an end to death and doubt.

He’ll call new tenants for the vine,

And share the finest wine.”

With us he shares the wine, and bread;

With blood and body we are fed.

In us he plants the sacred seed;

Through us he tends the vineyard’s need.

For us he stands as cornerstone.

All praise to Christ alone!

© 2013 Benjamin A. Radtke

“I love Jesus, but I don’t like religion.” Heard that before, or maybe one of its close cousins? “I like Jesus, but I’m not a fan of the church.” “Jesus is cool, but Christians…not so much.” I can tell you that as a pastor I have heard something like this in conversation so many times. And maybe you have too – perhaps from a coworker, maybe an old classmate who you grew up with in the church, maybe even from family? Perhaps you even think this yourself?

The last place I expected to hear this is from St. Paul, in today’s text. Paul loves Jesus and he considers “religion” as rubbish; well, actually, he considers it something far more foul and scatological than rubbish. But since it’s appropriate to be polite here, we’ll leave it at rubbish.

Most of the time those who say something like this really mean that they don’t like what they perceive to be a heavy emphasis on behavior, morals, legalism, or judgmentalism in the so-called “organized church.” They perceive Jesus as someone who decries hypocrisy and just wants them to be happy and feel good about themselves and their lives, maybe wants them to help people out (or for someone to help them out). Maybe they don’t have Jesus quite right? Maybe the “religion” they know isn’t quite right, either?

And that’s where we do well to listen closely to what St. Paul says. Paul loves Jesus. He decries religion, but he has a very specific “religion” in mind that our loose language and mistaken terminology obscures, if not destroys.

First, let’s briefly consider Jesus’ parable of the wicked tenants. Last week, we heard in Jesus’ parable of the man and his two sons a history of the world in sin, and the Father’s patient forgiveness for His whole creation. This week, the parable teaches us history again – but this time, it’s the history of Israel.

The vineyard is Israel. And God has sent His messengers to warn Israel back from the precipice of unfruitful unbelief again and again. And God patiently watched as His prophets were repeatedly abused and rejected. Israel was to live by grace through faith for the sake of the promised Christ, an example to the world to trust in God’s promises and to look for the Messiah.

But instead Israel became “religious”, “teaching as doctrines the commandments of men.” The teachers of Israel turned mercy into merit, grace into wages, faith into works. They despised God’s message and His messengers. The master of the vineyard came seeking the fruits of faith, and trust in His promises, and instead found idolatrous “religion”: Righteousness found in how well you follow God’s commands, rather than through your trust in Him.

Consider Paul’s description of himself: “If anyone else thinks he has reason for confidence in the flesh, I have more: circumcised on the eighth day, of the people of Israel, of the tribe of Benjamin, a Hebrew of Hebrews; as to the law, a Pharisee; as to zeal, a persecutor of the church; as to righteousness under the law, blameless.”

Paul was the pinnacle of the righteousness of “religious” Israel. He’s not being ironic or self-critical in this assessment. He’s very serious. If you seek righteousness under the law, you cannot surpass Paul. He was blameless. And he says that all of this – impressive as it might be and for all the bragging rights it earned him – is nothing. Not even nothing, less than nothing. It actually detracts from him. It’s a minus, not a zero. Because it wasn’t what God desired of him. Works instead of faith. Himself instead of God’s Christ.

Take note of this. The mistake of “religion” is to put oneself under a “law”. It may be a law of moralism, where you seek to prove your spirituality by what good behavior you have, or how loving or tolerant you can be. It may be legalism, where you seek to keep every minute detail of an elaborate rulebook, so as to show how strenuously faithful you are. All this is sinful man’s “religion” – to show forth your own righteousness so as to be acceptable to your god.

And here’s the rub: saying “I love Jesus, but I hate religion” is really just making for yourself your own new religion. One in which you get to keep the Jesus you really like, who lets you be who you want to be. You don’t repent – you just reject. It’s simpler to strive harder than to humbly admit that all our works are as filthy rags.

Not so Paul. He says “I love Jesus, but I hate religion” in the good, right, and salutary way. “But whatever gain I had, I counted as loss for the sake of Christ. Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which comes through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God that depends on faith…”

To love Jesus is to listen to what He Himself teaches us. Paul, in a rather dramatic fashion on the Damascus road, listened to Jesus. His entire worldview – righteousness according to the law – was shattered. To cling to the righteousness of God instead of our own earned righteousness is to forget what lies behind and strain forward to what lies ahead. We cannot do this on our own. We must abandon our religion and believe in Christ’s. We must repent.

This means that we cease our attempts to lay hold of God, and rest assured that Christ Jesus has already laid hold of us. He has shared with us all that is His – all His strivings, all His hard work, even His very own suffering, death, and resurrection.

Forget what lies behind. Forget your sin, and seek no longer to try and repay it. Put away your old self, for he is dead in Christ’s tomb. Shrug off the robes of religiosity that seeks righteousness in law, and instead behold the new robes Christ has put on you in your baptism. That is when he laid hold of you, and His grip is sure and firm. Live each day in those baptismal waters; live each day before God in a righteousness that is not your own but instead is yours as a gift, through faith.

The struggle in all this is that your sinful nature will hate every minute of it. Your Old Adam will resist. He thinks it’s far more fun to earn it. It’s easier to craft our own religion than listen to God’s religion through His prophets and pastors, preaching to us His word. It’s fairly simple to reject them. Just put their books away on a shelf or in a closet, out of sight. Just stop coming to church on Sunday and you don’t have to hear their voices any more.

Yet while we were still sinners – eager to stop our ears from hearing God – Christ died. For you. He laid hold of you, and has His way with you, and speaks to you, so that you “may know him and the power of his resurrection, and may share his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, that by any means possible [you] may attain the resurrection from the dead.”

That’s the goal. That’s why Christ came. That’s why He puts to an end all of our false religions and preaches only Himself – He is the way, and the truth, and the life. He is the one who shatters our pride and self-righteousness, and pieces us back together in His own image. In this way God beholds you as holy and blameless, and worthy of eternal life, for Christ’s sake. And in this way we truly do love Jesus and hate “religion.” “O come let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith.” There on the cross was Jesus, and there on the altar is Jesus, and here too is His true religion: the righteousness of God, all gift, for you.

Let’s try that now.  I’ll start a sentence and you complete it.

A watched pot….(never boils)

A penny saved….(a penny earned)

You win some….(you lose some)

What goes around….(comes around)

Six of one….(a half-dozen of the other)

Those who live in glass houses….(shouldn’t throw stones)

The grass is always greener….(on the other side)

You get the idea.  Much of what we say to one another is actually not voiced at all.  Meaning is made not only in the words but also in the gaps between words.  I suspect that was true in Jesus’ day as well.

Wonder with me a bit about what’s left unsaid in the story we just heard.

Jesus is at supper with his friends.  There’s a poignancy to it all:  Martha is serving; Lazurus—the man Jesus just raised from the dead—is hosting.  Laughter is rippling through the room.  Those gathered at the table exchange warm looks with one another.    They tell stories and they remember the times they have spent together.  They’re a community of friends gathered around a table.

Suddenly all eyes turn to Jesus and the woman kneeling at his feet.  She’s holding an open jar of costly perfume.  But that’s not all.  She’s unpinning her hair and letting it flow down past her shoulders.  She’s dipping her fingers into the jar and then tenderly massagingJesus’ feet with that most valuable perfume. She’s wiping his feet with her hair.

I can imagine all gathered at that table—with the exception of Jesus—are shocked, appalled.  What a thing for a woman to do.

Judas speaks.  “Why was this perfume not sold and the money given to the poor?” he asks more to the room than to any one individual.  Others likely nod in silent agreement.  They’ve heard Jesus’ calls to serve the poor.  They’ve heard Jesus castigate those in power for ignoring the cries of the poor.  Likely they say to themselves (as I suspect some of us do too), “He has a point.  Judas has a point.”

And then they hear Jesus say, “You always have the poor with you, but you do not always have me.”

Those words, “You always have the poor with you….” grate on our ears like fingernails on a chalkboard.  “What is he saying?” we wonder to ourselves.  “How can he say that?”  “What on earth does he mean?”

We listen to those words with 21^st century ears.  We hear “You always have the poor with you” and never hear the echoes in that phrase for

*We don’t listen with ears attuned to the Torah;

*We don’t listen with ears trained to hear the prophets’ calls for justice;

*We don’t listen with ears schooled in the psalmists’ indictment of those that exploit the poor.

So we don’t hear the commandment buried in Jesus’ words.  We don’t hear the echo of Moses’ of Moses’ condemnation of the greedy and compassion for the needy.  We don’t hear the echo of the commandment Moses proclaimed to the people of Israel as they stood in the wilderness, as they stood poised to enter the promised land.

To the people of Israel, to the people gathered in the wilderness Moses said, “Since there will never cease to be some in need on the earth, I therefore command you, ‘Open your hand to the poor and the needy neighbor in your land.’”(Deuteronomy 15:11)

There are those among us—not here but in our town, in our state, in our country—who hear the words “You shall always have the poor with you” and stop listening for the echoes in those words and thus stop looking for the poor and the needy in our midst.

You and I we live in the poorest state in the United States.  We have the widest gap not only between the poorest and the richest but also between the richest and the next richest.  Daily our neighbors are forced to make hard choices between buying the food they need and paying the rent or the health insurance bill or making the car payment.

“You shall always have the poor with you….”  It’s not an excuse to turn a blind eye or an empty had to the most vulnerable in our community.  It’s a veiled call to address the pressing need before our eyes.

Moses stands with his people—people who will cross into the promised land without him—and issues the commandment to “open your hand to the poor and needy in your land.”  Like Moses, Jesus, at table with his friends on the night before his death on a cross, gives a commandment—a new commandment:  “Love one another.”

*Love one another with the extravagant lavish love Mary showed as she poured out that fragrant oil on Jesus’ feet;

*Love one another in the barrier-breaking, boundary-bursting way of a woman who undoes her hair at the feet of a man who is not her husband and in the company of strangers;

*Love one another by responding to the pressing human need before your eyes.

*Love one another.  Open your hands to the poor and need in your midst.

*Love one another.

Now.  In this moment.  In this city.  In this state.  In the place where you live.

http://www.thetablebellingham.org

John 12:1-8

Six days before the Passover Jesus came to Bethany, the home of Lazarus, whom he had raised from the dead. There they gave a dinner for him. Martha served, and Lazarus was one of those at the table with him. Mary took a pound of costly perfume made of pure nard, anointed Jesus’ feet, and wiped them with her hair. The house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume. But Judas Iscariot, one of his disciples (the one who was about to betray him), said, “Why was this perfume not sold for

three hundred denarii and the money given to the poor?” (He said this not because he cared about the poor, but because he was a thief; he kept the common purse and used to steal what was put into it.) Jesus said, “Leave her alone. She bought it so that she might keep it for the day of my burial. You always have the poor with you, but you do not always have me.”

Love’s Fragrance: the floor scene

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Scientists tell us that in our brains, the region in which memories are stored is closely related to our olfactory capacity: our sense of smell.  Perhaps the reason this story was remembered and retold was the powerful memories evoked by the fragrance in the room – but perhaps there were other remembered smells as well.  Even the prettiest bouquet can remind us of a funeral.  There is a mixing of memories, of odors, of motives and of outcomes in this story.

Let us begin by picturing the setting.  It’s evening, sun is setting; it’s very dim inside a small room.  Lighting is by oil lamp so it’s dim; shadows are plenty.

There isn’t much furniture at all.  On the floor in the middle of the room is a thing that looks like a Japanese tea-ceremony table.  It sits low to the ground.  If  you recline on the reed floor-mat with your head close to the table, leaning on your left elbow, your right hand would be free to reach the table and take from it your food and drink.

The Scene

This is the scene.  The home belongs to two sisters and a brother; Mary, Martha, and Lazarus.  Who is at that table?  John does not pan the camera around; there are gaps in our knowledge.   Martha is serving.  Her sister Mary is busy with something else – she has not made her appearance yet.

Lazarus is at the table – and this is the amazing thing, because Lazarus got sick and died.  He spent four stinking days in a rock tomb before Jesus finally came and spoke those words that brought life back into his wrapped-up, rotting body: “Lazarus, come out!”

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He did come out, and now, some days later, he is well.  This is a celebration dinner!   A quiet celebration.  I picture it like Anne Frank’s family celebrating Chanukah in hiding; joy and foreboding sit together at that table.  Lazarus’ life has been snatched back from the grave; Jesus’ life edges closer and closer, just as he said it would.

Taking Risks in Bethany

They are taking a risk there in Bethany; it’s just over the hill from Jerusalem where “the powers that be” are feeling so threatened by Jesus that they have already tried and failed to kill him once.  If he gives them another chance, they will most likely succeed.  In fact it seems so likely to the people in that little house, that at least one of them considers it a done deal.  She has started making final arrangements.

Who else is there?  We only hear from one.  If Judas is there we assume that the other disciples are there too, but like many things in this story, we cannot see them, so deep are those shadows.

Many mysterious shadows

There are other things we don’t see; things that don’t seem to make sense.  Mary comes into the room – but not to help Martha serve dinner; she comes in with another purpose.  She has an entire pound of perfume valued at one whole annual salary in her hands!  Why does she have it?

They just had a death in the family; should she not have used that perfume to anoint her dead brother? Why didn’t she? Was she expecting him not to die because Jesus was certainly going to come to heal him – wasn’t he?

Was she expecting, even in the hours after his death, that Jesus would show up and revive him?  Did she keep hoping until it was finally past the time when it was possible to enter the tomb?

Is that why, when Jesus finally did show up, Martha told him that Lazarus’ corpse  smelled so bad, after only 4 days in the tomb – because he had not been anointed for a burial that was not supposed to happen?  We do not see into those shadows; we only see Mary there, with the unopened perfume in her hands, and the vivid memory of that day and its odors in her heart.

Feet: a corpse anointing

There are more shadows of mystery.  Mary comes over to where Jesus is reclining, kneels down, and pours the anointing perfume on him, as if he were a corpse. She does not anoint his head, as one would the head of a living king to honor him; she anoints his feet.  Jesus gets the message; to Mary, he is as good as a corpse already.

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When Judas watches this and makes his snide remark, Jesus tells him, “Leaver her alone.  She did this so that she might keep it for my burial.”  Jesus understands her action’s meaning.

Mary is probably thinking, “I may as well get him ready while I have the chance, because if the boots of those who are coming to get him kick in the door tonight, who knows; this may be the last we will ever see of him.

The Anointing scene

She loosens her hair, as women only did for their husbands, or in mourning.  She leans down, opens the container, and pours it out on Jesus’ feet.   She works that perfume into his bare skin using her hair in place of a cloth.  Now she too smells like a freshly anointed corpse.  Is she expecting to share his fate?  Is she casting her lot “until death do us part” with a man who, she believes, may not live to see morning?  This goes way beyond extravagance!

Are there words for what she is feeling?  John leaves them off the page; in the shadows.  We can only watch, amazed, if somewhat baffled.   And yet it was this man’s words that had brought Lazarus back to life, the sole male in that family; if we were Mary, what would we have withheld under those circumstances?

The Odor of Cynicism

The scene of extravagant love and devotion is broken by the stink of cynicism that comes, dripping from the lips of Judas.  He does not speak the language of love because he has not learned it.  So he speaks the language of economics: this was a waste.  “The money could have been spent on the poor” – and this from the man who had his hand in the jar.

John is brutally plain about Judas’ motivation.  It is as disgusting as it is obvious to hear people with no concern for the poor pretending to care.  It’s like hearing about the evils of debt from people who put a $2 Trillion dollar war on the national credit card.  Other motivations are apparent.

Like all con-men who know the soft-spots of their victims, the place where they are most likely to let down their guard, the place closest to their hearts, Judas knows where to stick his jab; he brings up Jesus’ famous concern for the poor.   You can almost see the curl in his upper lip as he spits out the quickly cost-accounted calculation.

“Why was this perfume not sold for three hundred denarii and the money given to the poor?”  (verse 5)

Opposites: choices

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No greater opposite pair could be in the same room; Mary, who has filled the room with fragrance, sitting disheveled on the floor at Jesus’ feet where nothing remains to her that she has not given; and Judas, filling the room with the stink of his contemptuous self-interest, miserable that he hasn’t got more of what we wants – that which no one takes with them past the grave.

In between is Jesus, who alone has the words of life.

We have entered that room today.  We are among those other disciples witnessing this contrasting display from the shadows, just out of sight.  We have a choice before us.

With whom do we identify?

We all have been where Judas is – we have to admit that.  We have all been there, believing that just “a little bit more” will solve our problems.  We have all felt the impressive, comforting weight of those coins in the money bag and were afraid of the vulnerable lightness of letting them go, even when faced with needs we could have met.

But haven’t we all also recoiled in horror at the thought of becoming Judas, the betrayer?  We want to make a different choice.

But can we be Mary?  Is it possible?  Can we see ourselves so utterly abandoned to Jesus and his cause that we relinquish every alternative source of security?  Could we ever see ourselves taking on that kind of risk – of respectability, of reputation, of livelihood?

What could make that choice possible for us? Only by coming to one settled conclusion: that Jesus’ words do bring hope and life into situations that otherwise are hopelessly dead.

Look at Lazarus sitting there at table and remember that day when his name was called and he came out of that dark tomb.  Let us look at ourselves sitting here, and remember our baptisms, on which day our name was called, and we were brought to life as a child of God!

Memories to deal with

It has not been easy; we have gone through valleys of  shadows.  We are like Mary holding that perfume jar; each one of us has in our hearts a remembrance of times of deep disappointment with God’s plans for us.

We had the perfume to anoint the dead but we didn’t imagine we would have to use it.  We never expected to have had to go through that illness, that crisis, that divorce, that pain, that grief;  in fact we prayed to be rescued, but rescue didn’t come in time, and the rock rolled over the occupied tomb.  The perfume jar in our hands is there to remind us.

The Last Word

But that was not the last word, was it?  The Lord of Life has a sense of timing that we do not understand; there are shadows of mystery that remain.  But words of life from Jesus do follow the crisis; and here we are today as living proof.

And so, we want to be like Mary – joyfully giving back life for life.  We are people who have committed ourselves, “until death do us part” to Jesus and his life-giving words.

This is why his soft spot is our soft spot that Judas identified.  We are passionate about the poor, as was Jesus.  We are passionate about social justice as Jesus was, even if the politicos mock us for it.

It is a cynical lie to say that we want socialism or are socialists, just because we have been called to love the “least of these” poor, as Jesus taught us.  We are passionate about the weak, the vulnerable, the outcasts, the suffering, because the Lord of Life on whom we have staked our hope was and is passionate about them.

The dishes are cleared, the oil lamps dimmed, the company rests. In the morning, at first light, the door will open, fresh cool air will flow in, and they will depart the house.  Mary will go one direction; Judas the other.  Which will we take?

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I read the passion narrative on the 5th sunday of Lent partly because it marks the change into Passiontide, but most because it frees up Palm Sunday, which is otherwise a bit of a
scramble¹. It’s also been pointed out to me (by Mark Broadway, aka @6eight) that it improves the
narrative of Holy Weekº if we don’t jump ahead on Palm Sunday.

I don’t preach partly because of the practicalities of time – reading the whole passion narrative takes up most of the time allotted to my sermon!), but mostly because it generally seems good to me that,
just this once, the reading should stand on its own merit. The Great Story of the passion does not need me to unpick, explain, or apply (though I generally have a go on Good Friday) and to leave it
standing naked and undefined feels, to me, more powerful than anything that I can produce. I encountered the practice in another church and I can only say it worked for me, so magpie that I am, I have duplicated it year in, year out.
After all, once I’ve done it twice, it becomes Tradition.

*The 5th sunday of Lent when the focus of the season turns from the wilderness to the cross
¹ (what with the blessing of the palms, the palm Gospel, then the reading of the
passion narrative and then a sermon which is almost always, ‘Oh gosh look, the crowds loved him then they hated him, where are we in this?)
º So that we can tread smoothly from Palm Sunday – the triumphal entry – to Maundy Thursday – the Supper and the Trial – to Good Friday – the cross – and then on through the tomb laden
Holy Saturday to the triumph of Easter.

[Short pause]

Extravagant God, your generosity is overwhelming; your care for us is awe-inspiring.  Open our eyes to see all you have given.  Open our hearts in gratitude.  Hear us, O God,
Your mercy is great.

Extravagant God, we are draw to the safe, the secure, the risk-free.  Break through our fears, so our giving may be a reflection of yours.  Hear us, O God,
Your mercy is great.

Extravagant God, Mary gave with reckless abandon, and her gift was accepted by Jesus.  Set us free from self-serving charity, from giving only to benefit ourselves, from asking “What’s in it for me?”  Help us seek the good of our neighbour.  Hear us, O God,
Your mercy is great.

Extravagant God, you call us to live in such a way that those around us catch a glimpse of your care.  Rescue us from our greed, so we might bless the world as you bless us.  Hear us, O God,
Your mercy is great.

Extravagant God, your concern for us is all-encompassing; your compassion embraces every facet of our lives.  Use us to reach out to those who have special needs: the sick, the shut-in, the homeless, the hungry, and all we name before you.
[Long pause]
Strengthen our faith to “step up.”  Hear us, O God,
Your mercy is great.

Extravagant God, keep us from hiding behind words like excessive, wasteful and unrealistic.  Help us be examples of what “can be.”  Hear us, O God,
Your mercy is great.

We offer all these prayers, as well as the deep yearnings of our hearts, to you, gracious and merciful God, in the name of Jesus.
Amen.

This Sunday is Lent 5, but it is also, of course, St. Patrick’s Day. Even though we Lutheran’s don’t practice the veneration of the saints, and certainly don’t want to be associated with the crass celebrations of the day that are all about leprechauns and green beer, there’s good stuff about Patrick that could be worked into a sermon or the service.

First off, keep in mind that Patrick was not a Roman Catholic in the way that we normally think of them. He was a Briton, who was a Christian, who brought the gospel to Ireland. It would be more appropriate to associate him with Celtic Christianity (he lived in the 4th century).

Another thing you might want to look at is his “Lorica” (“breastplate”) — I’ll put a copy below (there are numerous versions/translations available online). Note how wonderful a confession of faith it is, and note particularly how Christocentric it is (especially the second-to-last “verse”).

Now look at the lectionary selections and such for this Sunday. If you consult Planning Christian Worship, you’ll be reminded that we are on a “Lenten journey” — which fits with the use of the “Lorica” for “protection”. (My theme this week is “Our Heavenward Journey Is with Jesus All the Way”.)  The Isaiah passage, the Philippians reading, and the Psalm of the Day (full version, especially) all fit really well with the idea of “Christ with me, Christ before me, Christ behind me,” etc. — the life of Patrick can then be used as an extended illustration of the points made in the readings. (The Gospel parable could even be related to the opposition Patrick faced in preaching the gospel.)

Just some late thoughts on a Thursday!

Lorica of Saint Patrick

I arise today

Through a mighty strength, the invocation of the Trinity,

Through a belief in the Threeness,

Through confession of the Oneness

Of the Creator of creation.

I arise today

Through the strength of Christ’s birth and His baptism,

Through the strength of His crucifixion and His burial,

Through the strength of His resurrection and His ascension,

Through the strength of His descent for the judgment of doom.

I arise today

Through the strength of the love of cherubim,

In obedience of angels,

In service of archangels,

In the hope of resurrection to meet with reward,

In the prayers of patriarchs,

In preachings of the apostles,

In faiths of confessors,

In innocence of virgins,

In deeds of righteous men.

I arise today

Through the strength of heaven;

Light of the sun,

Splendor of fire,

Speed of lightning,

Swiftness of the wind,

Depth of the sea,

Stability of the earth,

Firmness of the rock.

I arise today

Through God’s strength to pilot me;

God’s might to uphold me,

God’s wisdom to guide me,

God’s eye to look before me,

God’s ear to hear me,

God’s word to speak for me,

God’s hand to guard me,

God’s way to lie before me,

God’s shield to protect me,

God’s hosts to save me

From snares of the devil,

From temptations of vices,

From every one who desires me ill,

Afar and anear,

Alone or in a mulitude.

I summon today all these powers between me and evil,

Against every cruel merciless power that opposes my body and soul,

Against incantations of false prophets,

Against black laws of pagandom,

Against false laws of heretics,

Against craft of idolatry,

Against spells of women and smiths and wizards,

Against every knowledge that corrupts man’s body and soul.

Christ shield me today

Against poison, against burning,

Against drowning, against wounding,

So that reward may come to me in abundance.

Christ with me, Christ before me, Christ behind me,

Christ in me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me,

Christ on my right, Christ on my left,

Christ when I lie down, Christ when I sit down,

Christ in the heart of every man who thinks of me,

Christ in the mouth of every man who speaks of me,

Christ in the eye that sees me,

Christ in the ear that hears me.

I arise today

Through a mighty strength, the invocation of the Trinity,

Through a belief in the Threeness,

Through a confession of the Oneness

Of the Creator of creation

• St. Patrick (ca. 377)

(Note: there are different translations and versions of this available on the internet.)

The author of the Gospel was probably not one of Jesus’ apostles. History records that Jesus was crucified in the 30s CE, the Gospel was written in the early second century or at least 100 CE. Life spans at that time were not longer than they are now, they were typically shorter. So assuming the apostles were around Jesus’ age, they might have lived another 20 years. This means none of the Gospels are eyewitness accounts, but second generation writings in the case of Mark (written in the late 60s-early 70s), late-second or third generation like Matthew and Luke (written in the 80s or 90s), and John is the fourth generation. While we only have four Gospels in our Bible, there were many, many Gospels that existed and sought to prove they had the authentic image of Jesus. The ones that didn’t make it into our Bible when it was created in the fourth century are called non-canonical.

One of these non-canonical Gospels floating around was the Gospel of Judas, which was translated and published in 2006. There would have been people who truly believed that Jesus requested his “beloved disciple” betray him to the authorities in order to fulfill prophecy. In the Gospel of Judas, Judas Iscariot can come across as a sympathetic character. The author of John, can’t have this because he is trying to draw more people into his community. So as you read this week’s passage, notice how Judas is called a thief. My “argument” with John is that he is trying to destroy the reputation of Judas so people will reject the Gospel of Judas, and the community of believers that followed that Gospel will join John’s community. The same thing is done to the Gospel of Thomas in the “Doubting Thomas” story.

Keeping that in the back of your mind, let’s do the project without John’s slights on Judas.

Project:

This week’s Gospel is an interesting twist on the Martha and Mary disagreement in Luke 10. Martha is serving dinner and Mary is being pious, but John introduces Judas to criticize Mary. Whichever version you prefer, it asks the question: Are we supposed to be pious or help others?

Sketch out the scene with Jesus, Mary and Judas and space for “thought bubbles” for their words.

Let’s start by putting yourself in Judas’ sandals. He asks “Why was this perfume not sold for three hundred denarii and the money given to the poor?” What is a church practice that seems to waste money? Consider even two church buildings in close proximity, served by the same pastor that maintains two buildings instead of having more funds available for mission. Now consider who could be helped: I don’t just mean people who are poor, but consider even domestic violence shelters, neglected animals, natural disaster relief. What is an injustice you see that needs more funding? Rephrase Judas’ question and add it to his thought bubble.

Mary doesn’t speak in either of the passages, but you’re going to provide her with words.How do you think Mary would have defended her pious practices whether that be anointing Jesus or taking time to listen to Jesus?

Then you’re going to turn to Jesus. Is he defending piety over social justice? Or is he saying there are times we need to learn and worship and times we need to serve others? Put his reworded response in his bubble.

Today, as I was reveling in my contrariness, I heard about a most interesting Lenten practice.  I was at a business lunch.  We were meeting about Home Teams (the small groups that help people make the transition from living on the streets to living in an apartment).  You can imagine that gathered around that table were folks who loved and lived generously.  Folks who gave their time to others.

We got the menus and looked them over.  I heard one of my table mates say, “Looks good.  I’m always hungry these days.”  “Are you on a diet?” one of the others at the table asked incredulously.  “No way,” the skinny one replied.  “I’m living off the equivalent of the Food Stamp allowance during Lent.”  (That’s living sacrificially.)  Then he went on, “We’re giving the difference between what we’re spending now on food and what we usually spend to the food bank.”  That’s living generously!

I read recently about how Quakers approach the life of faith.  They hold no truck with Lenten sacrifice or even Lenten practices if they’re confined to Lent.  Instead Quakers believe that Christians should live every day mindful of Christ’s birth, death and resurrection.¹  That got me wondering,

“What would life be like if we lived each day as a mix of the seasons of Lent and Easter and Advent and Christmas and Epiphany?

“What would life be like if, in the midst of the desert times in our life, we watch for signs of new life?

“What would life be like if, in the rhythm of our days, we were aware of both the waitings for and the arrivals of God in our lives and in our midst?”

I wonder—would all that lead to living from confidence in the abundance of God?  Would all that lead to living generously?  Would all that lead to loving extravagantly? This year, on the fifth Sunday of Lent we hear the story of Jesus being anointed with a precious and fragrant oil—“costly perfume” the gospeler says.  The symbol and substance of extravagant love.  Some might see and sniff in that costly perfume the Easter hope of God’s extravagant love.

These days, my colleague feels the gnawing hunger of his sacrificial living.  And yet, I suspect, what keeps him going is the whiff of that extravagant love.

We are called into a community grounded in God’s abundant love.  We share the seasons of our lives with one another.  Together, we live the seasons of God’s life with God’s creation.  Sometimes we walk in tandem with one another; sometimes we follow different paths or walk at a different pace. I imagine us—the Body of Christ—like those Quakers living our days together mindful that Christ’s birth, death and resurrection are always present in our common life.

Together we keep a Holy Lent and Joyous Easter and an Expectant Advent and all the rest of our days.

¹ Margalayne Armstrong, “Lent Beyond Easter” at http://www.journeywithjesus.net/Essays/20100301jj.shtml?view=print

People: “Unless a grain of wheat falls to the earth and dies,
it remains just a single grain;
but if it dies, it bears much fruit.”

Leader: Yeah, fine…wheat. Botany is not my problem.
I am afraid of what it means to “die.”
My life is good so I don’t want to change.

People: “Those who love their life lose it,
and those who hate their life in this world
keep it for eternal life.”

Leader: Ok, so change is necessary and new life is possible.
Where do I go? What do I do?

People: “Whoever serves me must follow me,
and where I am, there will my servant be also.”

Walk in the Light

Materials needed:  Book about butterflies “Born to be a Butterfly”, Easter stole with butterflies

As Pastor Barry reads the Gospel Lesson today, we hear Jesus talk about changes.  Let’s talk about one of the symbols we use in our church for Easter.  (Show stole with butterflies.)  We use butterflies to think about new life and resurrection.  (For younger children spend some word time with “resurrection.”)

Today let’s think about the change that happens in new life by thinking about the changes that happen for a butterfly.  This book is called, “Born to be a butterfly.” We’ll start here.  (Show a picture of a caterpillar. Let children identify the caterpillar.)  The caterpillar walks around and enjoys its life.  When the time is right the caterpillar changes.  (Show the chrysalis.)  Inside the chrysalis, I imagine it’s pretty dark.  Inside the chrysalis a wonderful change happens, the caterpillar changes into a butterfly!  The caterpillar is gone, but a wonderful new insect is in its place.

I like to think of that kind of change for us.  We are a little like the caterpillar.  Someday we will become even more amazing than we are right now!  Like the caterpillar, we can walk in the light, and we can really enjoy this life we have.  We can be sure Jesus will be with us to help us every day! Someday, we will go through a dark time like the caterpillar changing into a chrysalis.  We can be sure Jesus will be with us while we change and grow.  Then when we are ready, we will begin a new life just as amazing as the butterfly’s.  We can be sure Jesus will be with us then, too.

When you see the butterflies during Easter, remember you were born to be an amazing person!  Jesus loves you very much!

Alternative ———————————————-

Materials needed – Backpack, walking stick

In the Gospel lesson today Pastor Barry reads about Jesus tells his disciples to walk in the light while they have light.  Image we’ve all gone camping together way out in the mountains.  We take a hike up to the top of the mountain. There’s a little trail that leads to a beautiful waterfall.  We start walking and in the path there’s a big root growing across the trail.  What do we do? (Jump over it)  We keep walking and hear a sound.  What do we see? (Describe a few more hazards easily overcome… end of trail, waterfall.)  Suddenly it’s night and very dark, no moon.  What do we need?  What happens if we don’t have light to guide way back?

(Imagine trip back down trail without light.)  Walk in the light while you have light.  Jesus is our light.  He helps us see danger and step over it or around it.  He helps us see good things to do and enjoy.

Payer:  Thank you, Jesus, for being our light.  We love following you to all the wonderful places you take us.  We trust you to help us through all the dark places, too.  Amen

(Note: Children view death very differently during the ages of preschool to 12 years old.  Since our children cover these ages, I prefer to discuss death in groups more homogeneous with respect to age.)

We are now getting to the ‘sharp point’ of Lent.  It is important that we do not arrive at Easter Sunday without experiencing the passion of Jesus.  There is only one more Sunday (Palm Sunday) before Holy Week begins and how we use this Sunday in worship needs to be carefully planned.  Some churches name, this 5th Sunday in Lent, as Passion Sunday, which gives us the opportunity to concentrate on the necessity of the Cross for Jesus and our calling to be cross-bearers.  The link between the OT and Gospel reading is the New Covenant that God is making.  This supersedes the covenants of the past and is ratified in the sacrifice of Christ on the Cross.  The Hebrew reading is difficult. Even the writer admits in verse.16 that it is “hard to explain”.  He doesn’t get many Brownie points for going on to say that this is because we are “dull of understanding”. If we can manage to pronounce the name of the ancient High Priest, there will still be a lot of explaining to do.  An overall theme for this Sunday might be “New Life for Old” or “Dying to Live”.

Jeremiah 31:

Jeremiah is often called ‘The Reluctant Prophet’.  Perhaps we might also be if we had to say some of the things that he felt compelled to say.  The ‘Doom and Gloom’ of much that Jeremiah had to say is lifted in chapters 30 – 33.  These chapters, sometimes given the title,”Book of Consolation”,  have a different tone.  He is speaking to a people who have been long in exile and have almost given up all hope.  Here Jeremiah offers them a future to look forward to.  The opening verse of Chapter 30 says, “The days are surely coming, says the Lord, when I will restore the fortunes of my people Israel”.  This hope is to be in the form of a new covenant which will be based on ‘heart knowledge” rather than on external obedience.  This new covenant will not be just a rainbow in the sky, be inscribed on tablets of stone or given through others, but it will be  in God’s handwriting on every persons heart.  “I will put my law within them and I will write it on their hearts;  and I will be their God and they shall be my people.

“At the Heart of the Matter”:

A child is reprimanded and told to sit down.  They do so unwillingly, knowing that they haves no alternative.  They pout, and say “I may be sitting down on the outside,but inside I am still standing up”.  This is not whole-hearted  obedience only compliance.   Jeremiah spoke to a people who had over and over again failed to fulfil their part of the covenant God had made with them, and at best had only given it lip-service.  Now God invites them to listen to him and know him in their hearts. 

 Psalm 51:

 This is David’s prayer for forgiveness and in today’s worship will serve well as the prayer of Confession.  The Psalmist words connect with our own human experience and offer a way forward even when it appears at first sight that there is no way.  Through confession the hope of renewal is born.

 John 12:

 When I read the opening verses of this passage, I did begin to think that we were going to get a story or a report of a particular incident to hang John’s theology on.  We are rather short of story based text in this gospel, though admittedly we do have some wonderful word pictures. 

The reported arrival of some ‘Greeks’ turns out to be a non-event.  We hear of their request to Andrew to see Jesus. Andrew consults with Phillip and together they go to inform Jesus. We are not told if the meeting ever took place.  John may have connected this visit of the Greeks with the words of the Pharisees in v. 19, “Look!, the whole world has gone after him.”  Could it be that Jesus did in fact have a conversation with them.  (v 23 “Jesus said to them“.   The ‘them‘ might include the Greeks, Phillip and Andrew and other people in the crowd. 

 In John’s gospel there is no reference to Jesus’ Transfiguration and no record of his Gethsemane experience.  Perhaps both of these moments might be hinted at in v. 27 and 28.  In these two verses there is the anguish of Jesus, “Now is my soul troubled.  Father save me from this hour”, followed by a voice of reassurance  from heaven.  In these two verses is there  an echo from Jesus’ Baptism and also from the Mount of Transfiguration, where in both instances Heaven touched Earth.

In the bulb there is a flower; in the seed, an apple tree;
In cocoons, a hidden promise: butterflies will soon be free!
In the cold and snow of winter there’s a spring that waits to be,
unrevealed until its season, something God alone can see.

There’s a song in every silence, seeking word and melody;
There’s a dawn in every darkness, bringing hope to you and me.
From the past will come the future; what it holds, a mystery,
unrevealed until its season, something God alone can see.

In our end is our beginning; in our time, infinity;
In our doubt there is believing; in our life, eternity,
In our death, a resurrection; at the last, a victory,
Unrevealed until its season, something God alone can see.

Dying to Live is not so much a contradiction as it might at first seem.

John R

courtesy of http://www.wordle.net

Take Up Beer for Lent, 2011, Lent 5, John 11:1-53

Stories from our World

I love Nick Cave’s edgy, intuitive hunches on biblical stories and Dig Lazarus Dig is a beaut one to ‘read’ alongside the ancient text….Nick and John both do ‘death’ so well!

Well, New York City, man
San Francisco, L.A., I don’t know
But Larry grew increasing neurotic and obscene
I mean, he, he never asked to be raised up from the tomb
I mean, no one ever actually asked him to forsake his dreams

He ended up like so many of ‘em do
Back in the streets of New York City
In a soup queue, a dope fiend, a slave
Then prison, then the mad house
Then the grave, oh, poor Larry

But what do we really know of the dead
And who actually cares?
Well, I don’t know what it is
But there’s definitely something going on upstairs

How has the reality of death been part of our collective consciousness this past week?  How is it narrated in our dominant culture?

• Libya
• Japan
• Elizabeth Taylor
• This takes us inevitably to people we know and love…

Ancient Story

The following notes are drawn largely from Wes Howard Brook’s work on John ‘Becoming Children of God’.

Previous Context

Ch.10 Good Shepherd as critique of Leadership, Chanukah Temple Debates, Flees death threats by withdrawal beyond Galilee

Structure As with Samaritan Woman Ch.4 & Man Born Blind Ch.9

• Disciples misunderstand and disappear
• Jesus encounters another and challenges their faith
• Disciples/Observers respond positively or negatively.

In this passage we see all the various attitudes human beings bring to their experience of the presence of death.  The passage presents us with the seductions of false securities in the face of the threat of death and our darkest fears and internal doubts about following in the way of Jesus.

Responses to Death:

1. Help prepare the one about to die for the journey (v.2 Mary…see Ch13)
2. Avoid risks that may arouse opposition (Disciples v.7-8)
3. Denial (Disciples v.12)
4. Faithful commitment or is it sarcastic fatalism or is it bravery??? (Thomas v.16)
5. Death as business.  A chance to ‘make a living’ (Judean Mourners v.31-32)
6. Hope of avoidance / prevention (Sisters v.21,32, Judeans 37)
7. Jesus weeps (v.33-35 untranslatable = horse snorting?) sympathy or anger at lack of faith? Note John’s Judeans are usually wrong! (v.36)
8. Trust God’s Presence (v.42)
9. Come out/ Unbind …(v.44)
10. Death Mongering (Utilitarian Conspiracy v.49)

How does news reports about the recent crack down on dissidents in China mirror the secrecy, tension and the threat of danger and death in the ebb and flow of this text?

Note the geographical movement of characters in the text:  How does each characters ‘starting point’ prepare them to encounter death?

Personal Stories

What might ‘unbinding Lazarus and setting him free’ look like in your world?

Which ‘attitudes to death’ presented in the story are most prominent in your personal experience, the dominant culture, the church?

Consider what it would feel like to live without the fear of death.  Share stories of people of faith, both historic and from your own experience, who have lived in this way. ( eg. Joan of Arc, MKL, Romero, )

Brainstorm a list of consequences for particpation in ‘unauthorised’ healing or life-giving activity in our world. Tell a story of an alternative healing experience.

What attitude do I bring to the death of those closest to me?  How would you respond to Jesus’ response to Martha about being the “Resurrection and the Life”?

What ‘death threats’ or fears keep me from travelling to contested places in order to ‘unbind and set free’ those who are dying?  Tell a story of a time you had to cross Galilee and enter the dangerous ‘Judeas’ in order bring healing?

Almighty God,
you alone can bring into order
the unruly wills and affections of sinners:
Grant your people grace
to love what you command and desire what you promise;
that, among the swift and varied changes of the world,
our hearts may surely there be fixed
where true joys are to be found;
through Jesus Christ our Lord,
who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.

Amen.

We will pray this lovely Collect in worship on Sunday, our last “normal” Sunday in Lent.  Together, we will ask God to help us to love the things God loves, to help us to want the things God wants for us.  We will ask God to help us to keep our hearts and minds focused on what is real and eternal, rather than what is fleeting and false.  And we will recognize that only God can truly bring order, peace, and joy to us… though, if you’re anything like me, you’ll probably forget this as soon as you say Amen.

A New Creation, by jonty.fisher

Our readings this week all talk about God’s new creation, the new work that God is planting and nourishing and nurturing within each of us and throughout the world.  The gospel lesson does this through story, and the epistle does this through exposition, the reading from Isaiah relates this through beautiful poetry, and the psalm gives us a response to this work of God in us.  And through these parts of our worship for Sunday, a plan emerges that we can follow, to help bring this new creation of God to life.  Here’s our handy-dandy, four-part New Creation Plan.

1. First, we let go of the things of the past, the things that hold us back.
2. Second, we look forward to see the changes ahead of us, to find the new thing that God is bringing about.
3. Then we get up and start walking toward God’s new thing.
4. And when this new creation finds us, we give thanksgiving and praise to God.

"Requiescat in pace, Ted's old couch" by Kilgub

It is not easy to set aside the things of the past. We’re used to them. They’re comfortable.  How many of us have one really old, really ratty piece of furniture that we just can’t bring ourselves to throw out — or maybe, we just can’t bring our husbands to throw out — because we’ve had it for so long, and it’s comfortable?  Or maybe an old shirt that has been worn and washed so many times that, even though it’s a little threadbare, this shirt has become the softest and most comfortable one that we own?  We hold onto these things, because they bring us comfort.  In the face of the swift and varied changes of the world, we cling to these objects, these remnants of our past.  The thing is, no t-shirt lasts forever, nor does any sofa or recliner.  Only the gifts of God are eternal: joy, peace, love.  We may find fleeting comfort from these things of the past, but true comfort, true peace, true joy only comes when we set our eyes and our hearts on God.

The Anointing at Bethany, by Loci B. Lenar (Copyright 2009)

When Mary washes and anoints the feet of Jesus in our gospel for this week, Judas complains at the extravagant cost of the perfume she uses.  But Jesus chides Judas, knowing what lies behind this extravagant action… and what lies ahead in Jerusalem.  Swift changes are indeed coming to all of the disciples and friends of Jesus, but his dear friend Mary already has her heart fixed on God and on God’s promise.  Jesus knows this, just as he knows that none of his friends or disciples can understand this just yet.  He accepts the love of Mary, the love from God, as part of setting aside the things of his own past — his physical, human body — so that he can embrace the new creation in his future.

In his letter to the Christians in Philippi, Paul begins by describing his former self, the things of his past as an upright Jew, a righteous Pharisee, a stalwart of the faith.  And once he has encountered Jesus, Paul regards these as rubbish.  This may sound a bit harsh: surely these are things Paul should celebrate, right?  But Paul is smart.  He knows that when we’re caught up in celebrating our past successes, we aren’t fixed on God, and we aren’t fixed on God’s promises for us.  No, we must put aside those honors and achievements, and for most of us, that means we have to discard them, treat them as rubbish, so that we can fully embrace the new creation that is gestating within us.

Now that we’ve set aside the things of the past — or have prayed to God, asking for God’s help to leave these things by the wayside — so we move on to Step Two in our New Creation Plan.  We look ahead, trying to discern this new thing that God is bringing about.  The beautiful poetry from the prophet Isaiah can help us see what this looks like.  God promises to us

A wadi in the Sinai desert, by Lars Ploughman

I will make a way in the wilderness

and rivers in the desert.

The wild animals will honor me,

the jackals and the ostriches;

for I give water in the wilderness,

rivers in the desert,

to give drink to my chosen people,

the people whom I formed for myself

so that they might declare my praise.

This new creation God is bringing about, it is not a small thing.  Rather, God promises us complete reversals.  God promises to take the wilderness within us and build a path through it; God takes the desert places within us and makes a river to flow through them.  And all parts of Creation — even the wild jackals — give honor and praise to God.  This is huge!  This is exciting!  This is wonderful!  These promises are made to us by the very same God who can take a dead body and bring it back to life and health; the opening of our gospel story reminds us that the host for this meal is Lazarus, whom Jesus had raised from the dead.  And we know what is coming for Jesus, the change from a living, but mortal, body of a man into an eternal, resurrected body.  On Ash Wednesday, we heard the words Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return; we were reminded that we are a wilderness, we are a desert.  But on Easter, God’s new creation springs forth, bringing water to our dryness and life to our deadness.

What an amazing promise God makes us!  How do we not run forward to embrace this, as the father in the parable of the prodigal son does?  Well, that’s Step Three in our four-part New Creation Plan.  One of the most wonderful things about God is that God never forces anything on us.  God yearns for us to love God, to be in relationship with God, to want these things.  But God never forces this; no, God invites us, and then lets us choose how we will respond.  We can accept the invitation, or we can turn it down, or we can set it aside to look at later because everything is just so busy right now.  So it is not enough for us to merely see and marvel at God’s amazing promise.  The promise is just the invitation.  Now we have to RSVP and then show up.

The tough part is, this isn’t just a tupperware party.  It’s not something we show up to for an hour or two, and then return to our previously scheduled lives intact and unchanged.  Paul tells us that he hasn’t gotten all the way to the new creation yet, but I press on to make it my own, because Christ Jesus has made me his own.  Paul has seen God’s promise, has cast away his past, and is now straining forward to what lies ahead.

Make a joyful noise, by allspice1

The last part of our four-step New Creation Plan may seem obvious, but that doesn’t make it unimportant.  God gifts us a great gift in this new creation.  What did our mommies and daddies teach us?  When someone gives us something, we say thank you.  And that’s Step Four.  Sunday’s psalm gives us some words for this.  God’s new creation is a dream come true; it brings us laughter and joy.  Once we sowed with tears, and now we reap with songs of joy.

I’ll bet this all sounds too good to be true, huh?  And we all know what they say: if it sounds too good to be true, it probably is.  So what’s the catch?  Well, there’s no catch… except a little one.  There are no strings tied to God’s grace; grace can’t be earned or bought or bargained for.  The new creation God promises us, this is a gift; it is grace.  So the only little catch is this: the four-part New Creation Plan never ends.  God is always promising us a new thing.  No matter how long we follow God, there will be places of desert and wilderness withing us, waiting for God’s living water to spring up.  Only in resurrection and reunion with God do all of our dark places finally see the light.

But even this little catch is good news.  God’s grace never runs out!  God never stops giving us gifts!  Isn’t that wonderful?  I know it fills my mouth with laughter, and my tongue with shouts of joy.  Thanks be to God for bringing God’s new creation to us, every day!  Thanks be to God for inviting us into this new creation, for inviting us onto the path where we can be focused on the things that are real and eternal!  Thanks be to God for showing us, in the life of Jesus and all those he touched, that we too can experience God’s new creation!  Let us pray.

CREATOR OF HEAVEN & EARTH, by Fergal OP

Almighty God,
you alone can bring into order
the unruly wills and affections of sinners:
Grant your people grace
to love what you command and desire what you promise;
that, among the swift and varied changes of the world,
our hearts may surely there be fixed
where true joys are to be found;
through Jesus Christ our Lord,
who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.

Amen! Thanks be to God!