It Was Friday. Now It's Sunday. The Sunday

But on the first day of the week, at early dawn, they came to the tomb, taking the spices that they had prepared. They found the stone rolled away from the tomb, but when they went in, they did not find the body. While they were perplexed about this, suddenly two men in dazzling clothes stood beside them. The women were terrified and bowed their faces to the ground, but the men said to them, “Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here, but has risen. Remember how he told you, while he was still in Galilee, that the Son of Man must be handed over to sinners, and be crucified, and on the third day rise again.” Then they remembered his words, and returning from the tomb, they told all this to the eleven and to all the rest. Now it was Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary the mother of James, and the other women with them who told this to the apostles. But these words seemed to them an idle tale, and they did not believe them. But Peter got up and ran to the tomb; stooping and looking in, he saw the linen cloths by themselves; then he went home, amazed at what had happened.

The thing about Easter sermons is that if you've heard one, chances are you've heard them all. As the saying goes, there's nothing that can be said that hasn't already been said before. I have heard some wonderful Easter sermons over the years and I am not ashamed that this sermon today was inspired by a sermon delivered several years ago, one that my former pastor borrowed one Sunday morning, titled, “It's Friday.” When you get home, take a moment and Google the sermon, and then you can email me and tell me how better this one was. Or that one.

The beauty about Easter is that it is really the one time of the year that you can get away with preaching the same sermon. There is beauty in something like that. Then again there's a danger in that as well. What starts off as a good thing: one could fuller enjoy the Holy Week; it slowly becomes a bad thing: the congregation is mouthing the words to the sermon. Eventually it all becomes mundane and the beauty of the day gets lost because this isn't just any Sunday.

It's the Sunday.

Today is the day we are supposed to be in awe at what took place 'cause it's Easter Sunday!

It ain't Friday.

On Friday, Jesus hung on the cross. On Friday, Jesus died and was buried in a tomb. On Friday, the disciples were gone, hidden, afraid. On Friday hope was lost. That was Friday.

Then Sunday came. The women are making their way to the tomb. They are carrying their perfume and spice bottles. They arrive at the tomb expecting the mundane. They forgot it's Sunday and the stone was rolled away. It's Sunday and they are greeted by two men in dazzling robes. They were terrified and bowed low to the ground. “Why are you looking for the living among the dead? It was Friday when the Lord went into the tomb but today is Sunday and he is not here, he has risen!”

They remembered Friday. They remembered the betrayal, the desertion, the fear, the anguish. They remembered Friday. They remembered the beating, the death, and the burial. They forgot Sunday was coming. They forgot what he said, “It's Friday and I'll be dead; but Sunday's coming and I will rise again.” It's Sunday and they remembered.

It's Sunday and they ran from the empty tomb. It's Sunday and the women are proclaiming to the eleven, “We have seen the Lord!” It's Sunday and the men do not believe them because they forgot it's Sunday. Their words are nonsense to them because it was still Friday to them, and men can be idiots when they think it's Friday.

It's Sunday and Peter run to the tomb. It was Friday when he denied knowing Jesus. It was Sunday when he stooped and looked inside to see linen cloths in an empty tomb. It was Friday when he went out into the courtyard weeping bitterly. It's Sunday and Peter heads home, amazed at what had happened.

It's Sunday and the Lord has risen. It's Sunday and everything has changed. It's Sunday and the hymns are louder and livelier. It's the Sunday and the kingdom of heaven is being ushered in. It ain't Friday.

It was Friday and Jesus was crucified. That was Friday. Now it's Sunday and Jesus is alive! We're no longer ordinary people in ordinary place. That was Friday. Today is Sunday and we are celebrating. Friday we belonged to the devil. That was Friday. Today is Sunday and we are God's people.

It was Monday when we walked into our places of work. It was Monday when our bosses start complaining. It was Monday when the sequester kept sequestering. It was Monday and Garfield's not happy. It was Monday. Sunday's coming.

It was Tuesday when the doctors called with the bad news. It was Tuesday when we gather around and laid a friend to rest. It was Tuesday when the car broke down. It was Tuesday. Sunday's coming.

It was Wednesday when our spouse left. It was Wednesday when our parents were stricken to the bed. It was Wednesday when we finally put down the bottle. It was Wednesday when we begged for the weekend to get here. It was Wednesday. Sunday's coming.

It was Thursday when the overdue mortgage notice came. It was Thursday and the pastor got the time wrong for the Maundy Thursday service. It was Thursday and a freak snow storm hit. It was Thursday when the power went out. It was Thursday. But Sunday's coming.

It was Friday when school let out. It was Friday when the bus crashed. It was Friday when our neighbor's house caught fire. It was Friday when the dog got lost. It was Friday when we realized we were out of clean underwear. It was Friday when our child has his tonsils removed. It was Friday when the baby refused to sleep. It was Friday. But Sunday's coming.

It was Saturday when we looked at our honey-do list. It was Saturday when mom made us clean our rooms. It was Saturday when the kids refused to get out of bed. It was Saturday when we ran out of groceries. It was Saturday when we called the local church looking for food. It was Saturday when we ran out of gas on the side of the road. It was Saturday. Sunday's coming.

It's Sunday and our brothers and sisters in Christ are lifting one another up. It's Sunday and our church is bringing over some ice cream for our sore throat. It's Sunday and the church is feeding us. It's Sunday and our tank is being refilled. It's Sunday and a deacon is repairing the broken car. It's Sunday and we are being comforted. It's Sunday and the snow has melted. It's Sunday and the power's back on. It's Sunday and the church is providing shelter. It's Sunday and our church is singing. It's Sunday and we are alive. It's Sunday and the cross stands used. It's Sunday and the tomb is bare like ol Mother Huber's cupboard. It's Sunday and the kingdom of heaven has come. It's Sunday and Christ has risen!

It was Friday but now, now it's Sunday! Hallelujah!

It was Friday but now it's Sunday! Praise God almighty, Sunday's a coming! Amen and Amen.

Holy Week Journal: Be Still and Know by Michael Kellett

Long story short, I’m looking for a new job (FYI – I resigned because of shifting of the church’s staff model). It has been a difficult time – I’ve been in the same place for 7.5 years, we’ve made our home here, we’ve made great friends, 2 of our children were born here, and all 3 of our children were dedicated at our current church. While it has been difficult, it isn’t dreadful coming to work. The church has been very gracious in not setting an end date for me to “get out” but has been happy to work with me and allow me to have a full-time job for another 3 months.

In the process of looking for work and interviewing and sending out resumes, my wife and I have really struggled with the fact that we have little to no control over the process. Several churches have had expectations of what they need from their next youth minister (a “lifer” Methodist, a person who can lead the contemporary worship service, someone who can take orders) (an FYI – these are all things I’ve dealt with in the past several months and have been reasons why I wasn’t chosen as the candidate), and I can’t control what gifts God gave me.

We are a people who like to be in control of things. I want to be in control of when I get a job, and what job I get, and what church I get the job in, and what city we’ll reside in. We want to be in control of our money. We want to be in control of our future. We want to control our schedules. This is one reason why I don’t ride the city bus –I usually have to go all the way uptown and wait on another bus in order to get to the bus I need to get to in order to get home. I don’t have time for that.

When do we have time just to sit back and take a deep breath? All this controlling can make a person tired (and crazy).

2 verses come to mind that help put things in perspective for me:

1. Psalm 46.10 – “be still and know that I am God.”

Many people understand this as our need to quiet ourselves to experience God’s presence. Certainly true. There is a deeper meaning here, I believe. The Psalmist is saying that we need to quit trying to control things. Read the previous verses – God is making wars to end, breaking bows, shattering spears. God says “Stop all your controlling when you don’t sense my presence – I got this.” Remember the story of Job – God basically calls out Job – who are you to question me; where were you when I created Leviathan and Behemoth?

I’m not a big journaler, but I can see the benefit of it. It can help remind us of God’s faithfulness in the past, and how God has shown us to be faithful, so “we will not fear though the earth should shake, though the mountains shake…though its water roar and foam… (v.2).”

2. Matt. 6.34 “so do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring worries of its own. Today’s trouble is enough for today.”

We can be confident that our life is in God’s hands and that the whole world is in God’s hands (He’s got the whole world in His hands [forgive the masculine language]).

I don’t want to fool you – I don’t sit down every morning and say to myself, “Self, God is in control, don’t worry about anything.” Being the sole person working for pay in the Kellett household (my wife works plenty and doesn’t get paid) and having 3 young children to care for, I stress out a lot. June will be here before we know it, and I really hope I’m gainfully employed. Ministry is unlike any other job in that you can’t just pick up and go to another church with all things being the same. A banker can go across town, and banks are banks. My understanding of deposits and credits isn’t much different from anyone else in the world. A teacher has multiple opportunities to find employment - my understanding of Chemistry isn’t much different than most other Chemistry teachers. Being in the Baptist church that I am and being the kind of Christian that I am (i.e. my beliefs) and being that I want to do something with youth ministry in a congregational setting in the southeast kinda limits who I can speak with and what churches would feel right for my family and me.

I just try to take a deep breath each day and know that God is present, if I’ll just take the time to notice.

Forgiveness: It's About Forgiveness Even If...

I'm stuck.

I am working my way through planning a Sunrise Service and an Easter Service and I came across a verse that distracted my mind and I am needing to get undistracted and unstuck. You are most likely familiar with this verse:

"Jesus said, "Father, forgive them for they do not know what they are doing." And they divided up his clothes by casting lots." (Luke 23:34).

The verse is quite simple really. Jesus seek forgiveness for those who are crucifying him and the guards are dividing up his clothes. Simple. So what am I stuck on?

Glad you asked.

I am not stuck on the latter part of the verse but stuck on the very words Jesus says. Now there is some discrepancy here. If you notice the footnote in your bible says, "Some early manuscripts do not have this sentence." Now, I'm not going to argue for or against this verse being added in by the writer or redactor or whomever. I think if it is removed it does change the theology of the cross and the death of Jesus but that's not what I am  stuck on.

I am stuck on the very words themselves.

On the cross, shoulders separated, crown of thorns digging into his scalp, sweat dripping into open wounds, Jesus finds enough breath to say, "Father, forgive them." Jesus seeks forgiveness for his killers. I find it hard to believe.

I find it hard to believe because forgiveness is the one thing no Christian is really willing to give. We desire to receive it and are angered when we do not; yet we are just as unwilling to give. We add stipulations to forgiveness. We say, "Forgive but don't forget." We say, "Well, Jesus is Jesus so we practice forgiveness but they must seek it first or show remorse."

From the cross I see something different. No one there at this moment is remorseful. The criminals are mocking him. The guards are mocking him. The crowd is mocking him. Where are his disciples? Only after Jesus dies and the ground shakes do we see a morsel of remorse from a guard. Even the criminal whom Jesus says will be with him in paradise is not remorseful of actions that sent him to the cross. The criminal understands he is deserving but no where in the text does it say the criminal asks for forgiveness for his crimes or repents of his sins. We try to make the text feel better by saying Jesus knows the man's heart but it's not there in the text.

Let's explore this one step more. Have you noticed in the gospels that Peter never repents or seeks forgiveness for his denial? John is the only gospel to have any sort of conversation between Peter and Jesus, yet Peter never seeks forgiveness. In his conversation with Jesus by the fire, Peter's response to Jesus' "Do you love me?" is in a tone of frustration.

One more step: Have you noticed when Jesus forgives others of their sins it is something they never ask for? In the story of the man who is lowered through the roof by his friends, Jesus forgives the man before he even attempts to heal him. Jesus acknowledges the their faith but the man was not there to seek forgiveness. In fact, his healing only takes place when the Pharisees question his authority to forgive.

It would seem forgiveness is something we are to give even when it is not sought. And it appears that it is something we must give even if we do not want to: "For if you forgive others when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you do not forgive others their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins." (Matthew 6:14-15).

I am stuck here because we work so hard at being unable to forgive others. We look for excuses not to forgive, yet even in the epistles we are asked to forgive others as we have been forgiven. This is the struggle of this week: forgiveness.

Why are we not able to truly forgive one another?

Why do we create excuses or requirements around forgiveness?

If we, who claim to be Christians, are supposed to be in the likeness of Jesus, then why is this commandment, this part of the Christian story the one part we seek to compromise on?

I have heard amazing stories of people who were able to forgive others who committed horrible crimes against them. I have heard stories of people forgiving their parent's killers. I have heard stories of people forgiving the thieves who stole their precious family heirlooms. I have heard stories of people forgiving others for the simplest of matters. But I have heard stories of people who are unable to forgive or unwilling to forgive the largest and even the smallest of transgressions.

In the shower I asked myself a question as this thought stuck in my mind: Could you forgive the person who took the life of your son and wife? Could you forgive the person who robbed your home? Could you forgive the person who got you fired so many years ago? Could you forgive the person who took your wallet? Could you forgive the girl who broke your heart way back when?

My response to a majority of those?

God forgive me if I am not.

We all need forgiveness.

We all need to forgive.

We all need every ounce of power to do so.

Maybe it starts at the foot of the cross and hearing Jesus say, "Father, forgive them."

It is, as the song goes, the heart of the matter.

Weren't We Just Singing "Hosanna"?

Now the men who were holding Jesus began to mock him and beat him; they also blindfolded him and kept asking him, “Prophesy! Who is it that struck you?” They kept heaping many other insults on him.66When day came, the assembly of the elders of the people, both chief priests and scribes, gathered together, and they brought him to their council. They said, “If you are the Messiah, tell us.” He replied, “If I tell you, you will not believe; and if I question you, you will not answer. But from now on the Son of Man will be seated at the right hand of the power of God.” All of them asked, “Are you, then, the Son of God?” He said to them, “You say that I am.” Then they said, “What further testimony do we need? We have heard it ourselves from his own lips!” Luke 22:63-71

My friend, Ben, who is the pastor of a local Christian church, recently told me this story: A couple of weeks ago, a church member of his passed away on her 89^th birthday. They were gathered around the graveside and the service had formally ended and Ben decided to improvise a bit. It's a dangerous thing for ministers to improvise. Improvising means there's a chance that something bad or good will happen. Improvising means there's a chance God shows up.

Ben continued his story: “The service formally ended and then it happened, I asked if anyone would like to share a word. It was unplanned but seemed to be the right thing to do.” Ben went on to say that the woman's 52 year old son with down syndrome opened his mouth and said, “I just want to say one thing.” He paused and everyone waited, wondering what he would say, if he would have been able to speak. And then it happened. He sang, “Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you.” As the second line ended the 30 some gathered joined in.¹

In that moment something beautiful happened.

It seems like we were just beautifully singing “Hosanna” and suddenly we find ourselves standing the presence of Jesus and in the presence of the chief priests. We see Jesus being struck and mocked. We see him being questioned. We see something monstrous happening and there is nothing we can do about it. Jesus does nothing to defend himself. He goes willing with the soldiers when the arrest him in the garden. He stands there willing and takes the abuse, mockery, false witnesses, and angry mob without once raising his hand or voice to defend himself.

When asked if he is the Christ, he replies in riddles, “If I tell you, you will not believe me, and if I asked you, you would not answer. But from now on, the Son of Man will be seated at the right hand of the mighty God.”

No parables of the end times. No cursing a fig tree and using the moment as a lesson. No confession of Peter, who is out in the courtyard denying to know this Jesus. No healing, no miracles, no feedings, no walking on water, no calming the storm, nothing but answering when asked, “Are you then the Son of God?” “You are right in saying I am.”

Something tragic is happening.

We have a tendency to romanticize these events. We try to water it down by saying that Jesus is going through all of this for us. While I believe that to be partly true, I feel that we miss what is really going on. I feel we miss seeing something beautiful in this tragic moment. We miss seeing God making the world right. We miss seeing God take the very worst of us and making something new out of it. At this moment in our story we should hear God say as God said in Genesis, “I will wipe away all humankind for I am grieved that I have made them.” or as God said in Exodus, “Now leave me alone so that my anger may burn against them and that I may destroy them.” But we do not.

We do not hear God's anger or feel God's wrath. The trembling of the ground and the thunder when Christ takes his final breath is all we hear or feel of God. We miss God's amazing work when we romanticize this part of our Christian story. We cheapen what it is happening when we make all about us. The truth is, this is not about us. This is about making what is wrong in the world right again. It is about showing us the true meaning of the kingdom of heaven. It is about breaking every barrier, tearing down every wall, and unbinding every strand that holds this world captive to a way of life that is death giving. 

The kingdom of heaven is breaking in through this tragic moment. The world is changing before our very eyes in this story. Something beautiful is happening in this tragic moment. Let us not miss it because we are too eager to get to the good part. Let us lose ourselves in the tragedy with the faith of Christ in the hopes of what is to come.

A crowd stares at me

Waiting to hear words

Some magic words

I might say

Words to appease the soul,

Words to calm the mind

Words to open the heart

And ease the eyes.

There are no words today

That can sum what is

There is tragedy in the air

As fists come across your face

Beaten and bloody you stand

Accused before others

You refuse to defend

It's clear something tragic is happening

What are we to see

Through the blood stained tears

Is something new breaking through

The midst of this tearful moment

The kingdom of heaven is breaking in

We are being told

How can such a beautiful thing be seen

From such a horrific cross

Oh God, what is it that we might see

In this tragic moment

Is something beautiful happening

Is something beautiful happening

In this tragic moment

1Ben Moore, “Generous, Holy, Beautiful” http://heisntwearinganythingatall.wordpress.com/2013/03/15/generous-holy-beautiful/

Lenten Journal: The Pope, the World, and Our Kids by Mike Poole

 The world has changed. I feel it in the water. I feel it in the earth. I smell it in the air. Much that once was is lost, for none now live who remember it. 

Who has not been stirred by the inaugural ceremonies of the new Pope Frances? 200,000 people were standing, watching, hoping to get a glimpse. Worldwide, more than a billion Catholics (billion!) celebrate centuries of sacred decorum. Protestant, Muslim, and Jewish worlds are both enthralled and inspired by a faith tradition with peculiarities quite different their own – Mary was born without original sin, a celibate clergy, an expanded version of the holy book and a leader empowered to speak, at times, as the voice of God. That Protestants have become comfortable with these things is quite a transformation. “The world has changed. I feel it…” don’t you?

Not so long ago, Protestant leaders and churches (including Baptists) dissed Catholics. Mainline Evangelicals labeled the Pope “anti-Christ!” and Rome “Babylon!” This shifting of tides was mutual and has much to do with something called R-E-S-P-E-C-T. John Paul II was the first Pope ever to enter a mosque and pause in prayer. He said that Christians and Muslims share the same God. He apologized for the shameful Crusades, that period when Christians massacred Muslim Arabs in the name of Christ, something Muslims have never forgotten. He apologized to Jews, women, Galileo, and victims of child sex abuse. He prayed at the “wailing wall” in Jerusalem… an expression of affection for Jews. He dialogue constantly with Protestants, which is partially why we've stopped protesting.

Pope Frances seems to walk in this Way. His model demonstrates that respect is not limited to those who agree with us; it’s especially needed for those who don’t. Who was it that said, “Love your enemies…” We never win by talking down to anyone; we win by sitting down with them. Another has written, “Let’s get out of their faces and into their shoes.” See Baptists Hopeful with New Pope.

When one genuinely respects the other (even an enemy), or, better, when someone who is my enemy genuinely feels valued and respected, then something beautiful takes place, weapons drop, friendships begin, love has the chance to win and life to change.

In the new world that’s upon us, the flat world of countless migrations and refugees, the world of cable-vision, Internet, air travel… the world where neighbors, co-workers and our children’s schoolmates are Muslim, Hindu, Buddhist, Jew, New Age and secular humanist, along with multitudes who are daily becoming “none of the above”…

In this new kind of diversified world, we would do well to learn to show respect rather than contempt. “We reap what we sow.” “Those who live by the sword (gun) will die by the sword.” We must find the courage to beat our spears into plow shears, and engage in earnest, heart-felt, respectful dialogue with those who disagree with us. Somebody remind me what we’re afraid of?

What does this have to do with our kids… parents, grandparents, and teachers too? For one thing, we need to get comfortable with this global village reality, this new multi-cultured world, because our children need mature leaders whose hair is not always on fire about some issue. They need a calming presence…patient leadership and authentic friendship.

The world has changed, and it’s not coming back. Not now, not EVER. I’m not saying all changes are good, but there IS much GOOD that God is doing. “The Kingdom of Heaven is at hand!” If we fail to partner with God in this great work HERE and NOW, and if we only see the bad, if we cower in fear and hide from reality, then what’s left to offer our children? What good are we? The salt has lost its savor. Do you see what I’m saying? It’s not easy but it is necessary.

Worldview shapes thinking and behavior. Imagine a harmonized world where… where “the wolf will live with the lamb, the leopard will lie down with the goat, the calf and the lion and the yearling together…. The infant will play near the hole of the cobra, and the young child put his hand into the viper's nest. They will neither harm nor destroy on all my holy mountain, for the earth will be full of the knowledge of the LORD as the waters cover the sea. (Isaiah 11:6-9 NIV)

Imagine with St. Paul the re-creation of all creation: “The creation waits in eager expectation for the sons of God to be revealed. ….the creation itself will be liberated from its bondage to decay and brought into the glorious freedom of the children of God.” (Romans 8:19-22 NIV)

Envision people of every race, kindred and persuasion transformed so that every thought, breath, and action comes into harmony with the desires of Jesus the Christ… so that, for example, The Sermon on the Mount actually becomes a way of life… or, love and peace prevail regardless of circumstance… or where one’s hands, feet, mouth, ears, eyes and very soul become instruments of touching the poor, the brokenhearted, the captives and prisoners trapped in darkness… or, being an instrument in shaping a world where “justice roll(s) on like a river and righteousness like a never-ending stream.” (Amos 5:24)

Imagine being part of a revolution that seeks to transform whole neighborhoods, cities, regions and continents. Consider God’s kind of Life… empowering, motivating, liberating – no longer intimidated by darkness, or fiery rhetoric, or even change itself. As firefighters invade hell-fired buildings to save, the revolutionaries of Christ invade hellish lives of those entrapped in humanity’s sins like poverty, crime, addiction, disease, prejudice and injustice.

Emerging from the ashes of the passing modern age, this now and future way of church attracts children, adolescents, and young adults… those with little or no spiritual background… who hunger to eat spiritual bread… thirst to live a story woven from threads of “what was, what is, and what is to come.”

Imagine a new kind of world, a world where “they and them” become “we and us.” WE are the hungry; WE are the broken, the rejected, and discarded. WE are the marginalized “spiritual-zeroes” for whom Jesus died and lives, AND for whom the Kingdom is at hand! WE are welcomed into this new, emerging Way of Life… out of what was, into what is, and onto what is to come.

We love the symbol: a warm, people’s Pope Frances working the crowd like a Sunday morning preacher. Welcoming all, judging none, engaged in real-life problems and rolling up his sleeves to help. It’s a symbol of hope for the world, hope for our kids, hope that indeed, heaven’s real place is on earth and heaven gets here through frail and faulty souls – you, I, we, and us. WE, the Pope and our children are here and NOW living Creation’s story, God’s story, our story – a story which was, is, and sure to come.

Yes, the world has changed. We feel it in the water. We feel it in the earth. We smell it in the air.

– Thanks be to God –

Blinded By Rainbows

They gathered around the table, celebrating life, life together. Jesus and his disciples have made a return trip to Bethany. Laughter filled the air from reminiscing of Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead a few days before. She disappeared in the midst of the amusement. She went unnoticed by the rest. Mary was a wanderer, so no one gave noticed as she got up from the table and went to her room. She searched diligently for something, something special; something she’s had saved for a special occasion. There hidden in the corner, it sat, her alabaster jar. She pulled the top off; the aroma from the perfume filled her room. “Yes,” she thought, “this will do quite well.”

The conversation was still lively when Mary returned, “Mary,” Lazarus began, “You missed the funniest story.” She hardly paid attention to him. She was on a mission; she had something she needed to do. She dropped to her knees, unbound her hair, broke the neck of the alabaster jar, the aroma filled the room. She poured the perfume on his feet, all of it. Martha’s mouth dropped. The disciples gasped as she began to wipe the feet of Jesus with her hair. On her knees before Jesus, her hair unbound, the perfume she was saving covered his feet. Judas quickly sneered, “Why is she wasting the perfume? She could have sold it and the money could have fed an entire poor family.”

“Not now, Judas.” Jesus quickly responded.

“But…” the others interjected, “It’s not appropriate…”

“Let her be. She’s bought this for my burial. You will always have the poor with you. But you do not always have me with you.”

May God bless the retelling of the Gospel story.

A version of this story appears in all four gospels. In Matthew and Mark, a nameless woman interrupts dinner at Simon the Leaper’s house and anoints Jesus’ head with oil from her jar. In Luke, a notorious sinful woman interrupts dinner at Simon the Pharisee’s house, crying uncontrollable tears, breaks her alabaster jar and begins to bathe Jesus with her tears, kisses, and her perfume. John is the only one to give her a name. And it’s not just any random name of any random person. It’s Mary. Not Mary Magdalene. Mary, Martha’s sister. Mary, the sister of Lazarus. Lazarus, the guy Jesus brought back to life. So, she is not just any one. She’s a friend, a close friend; she is the only one (in all accounts) with a personal relationship with him. She knows him and he knows her; which makes what she does so…odd.

What she does is very odd. First she lets her hair down in a room full of men, which an honorable woman never does. Then she pours perfume on Jesus’ feet, which is also not done. The head, sure people do that to kings (David was anointed with oil on his head) but not the feet. Then she touches him, a single woman rubbing a single man’s feet, also not done, not even between friends. Then she wipes the perfume off with her hair, her hair, again, her hair, so bizarre. For the most part we are so moved by her actions that we ignore the bizarre or we simply don’t care. The point is she loved him, right? Absolutely, but this is a very public demonstration of her love. It’s extravagant. It’s excessive. She’s gone mad! She’s off her rocker! She’s gone bonkers, as Judas (and the others, I’m sure) is quick to say.

“Jesus, why is she wasting this perfume? She could of sold it, you could have had her sell it and the money could be used to feed an entire family. She’s wasting it!” Judas is right. The perfume might have gone for a pretty penny on eBay…err…the market. The Deacons…err…disciples, could have collected the money, picked out a family in need and fed them for the day and posted a self congratulatory note on their website. It would have been the smart thing to do. John is quick to say that Judas says this because he was the treasurer and did not care for the poor. I think that’s not entirely true. I think John just did not like Judas; because Judas is right. For years, Jesus had been preaching to care for the poor. Jesus urged Pharisee’s, tax collectors, and the King to change their practices that oppress others. Jesus was an advocate for the poor. A defender of their rights, Judas paid attention but Judas did not understand. None of the disciples understood.

Jesus replies “Let her be. She bought this for my burial. You will always have the poor with you but you won’t always have me.” That’s an odd reply, especially from Jesus. Jesus did say to the Rich Man, “Sell all your possessions, give them to the poor and follow me.” As stated before, Jesus lobbied for the poor. He cared deeply for them; so why such an odd response? Is Jesus going mad as well? Perhaps he is or perhaps he already had gone mad. He must be. Why else would he say such an odd thing?

Our Lenten journey is coming to an end. Jesus is saying his final goodbyes to his friends. They won’t see each other for awhile. He’ll return from where he’s going but he won’t return the same. He’ll be different. He won’t be the same Jesus. The transformation that is about to happen is going to tough. The journey Jesus is going to take is a journey he is going to take alone. His friends will abandon him. His disciples will runaway. Someone he trusts will betray him. So, perhaps he was mad. Perhaps, just perhaps, for a moment he did not want to be blinded by rainbows.

If life is a story and we are a part of an epic story being written by the creative hand of God, then the story is taking a dark turn. Old Yeller is going to get shot at the end and there’s no chance to cover our eyes and shield ourselves from it. We are a part of this story. Act III of our V Act play is coming to a violent end. John’s story reeks of death. Mary is preparing Jesus for his burial, Judas--the betrayer--challenging her act, and the perfume…was it left over from Lazarus’ burial? And out in the yard, a few hundred feet away was a freshly vacated tomb that still smelled of burial spices, waiting for a new occupant…death’s long black cloud is coming down.

I am not a big fan of death, not my type of business. I prefer life. I prefer happy things. I prefer good news, you know, looking on the brighter side of life, as the Monty Python song goes. In fact only in the past three years I have been able to watch the first part of Superman because as a child, when Krypton would explode, I cried. If you’re like me, you too are not a fan of death. Probably would like to avoid it as long as you can. But we’re coming to the part of our story where we can’t close our eyes. We must be alert. We must be willing engage. Jesus is going to die on the cross. He is going to be beaten and forced to carry his cross, alone, to the top of Golgotha. He will be crucified. We are asked to not be blinded by rainbows.

Sure, Mary could have sold her alabaster jar. The disciples could have collected the money and fed an entire family. But what purpose would it have served? It would have made us feel better. We would not have talk about gloom and despair. But what good will that do. We could fast forward to the good parts of the story, skip the last supper, skip the garden, skip the beatings, the abandonment, the death, and go straight to the resurrection. Though, the temptation is for us to do so…we can’t. We cannot close our eyes. We cannot shield our children from it. We cannot say to Jesus, “This is inappropriate. There are children present. You cannot talk about death. We need you to be joyful. Be happy. Let’s sale the perfume.” If we do, if we live avoiding this upcoming chaos, we are blinded by rainbows.

So, Mary will take down her jar, break it, and pour it on the feet of Jesus. It is a lavish act, so lavish that Jesus says, “Let her be.” Jesus understood Mary. He knew what she was doing because he is about to do the same. There is not going be anything safe and economical about his death. His death is not going to fix all of the problems in the world. The poor will still be poor. The oppressed will still be oppressed. The lame will still be lame. He knows this. Jesus knows that what is about take place, through Mary’s lavish act, is something that is going to be argued over for years and years to come. He knows houses will be divided. His lavish act will be exploited by politicians, talk show hosts, TV preachers, and the powerful. He is not blinded by rainbows.

We are coming to the end of the third act. Lent is ending and Easter is coming. It has arrived quickly this year. Much quicker than I can recall. Winter has given away to spring without much of fight. As we prepare for Palm Sunday and Easter Sunday, let us not be blinded by rainbows. Let us see what is about to take place with clarity, with clear eyes. Let us engage this story. Let us become so wrapped up in the story that we become a part of it. For if we do just that, then we won’t be blinded by rainbows. 

Grace and Justice of the Kingdom of Heaven As Told Through the Compassionate Father

Here's a story we are familiar with:

“There was a man who had two sons. The younger of them said to his father, ‘Father, give me the share of the property that will belong to me.’ So he divided his property between them. A few days later the younger son gathered all he had and traveled to a distant country, and there he squandered his property in dissolute living. When he had spent everything, a severe famine took place throughout that country, and he began to be in need. So he went and hired himself out to one of the citizens of that country, who sent him to his fields to feed the pigs. He would gladly have filled himself with the pods that the pigs were eating; and no one gave him anything.

But when he came to himself he said, ‘How many of my father’s hired hands have bread enough and to spare, but here I am dying of hunger! I will get up and go to my father, and I will say to him, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son; treat me like one of your hired hands.”’ So he set off and went to his father.

But while he was still far off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion; he ran and put his arms around him and kissed him. Then the son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son.’ But the father said to his slaves, ‘Quickly, bring out a robe—the best one—and put it on him; put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. And get the fatted calf and kill it, and let us eat and celebrate; for this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found!’ And they began to celebrate.”

“Now his elder son was in the field; and when he came and approached the house, he heard music and dancing. He called one of the slaves and asked what was going on. He replied, ‘Your brother has come, and your father has killed the fatted calf, because he has got him back safe and sound.’ Then he became angry and refused to go in. His father came out and began to plead with him. But he answered his father, ‘Listen! For all these years I have been working like a slave for you, and I have never disobeyed your command; yet you have never given me even a young goat so that I might celebrate with my friends. But when this son of yours came back, who has devoured your property with prostitutes, you killed the fatted calf for him!’ Then the father said to him, ‘Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours. But we had to celebrate and rejoice, because this brother of yours was dead and has come to life; he was lost and has been found.’” (Luke 15:11-32 NRSV).

Often when it comes to this passage we are asked: “Which are you? The younger brother or the older brother?” Our answer should be yes. Yes, we are younger brother. Yes, we are the older brother. Yes we are the younger brother in our self indulgence, our self centered and foolish behavior. Yes we are the older bother in our pettiness, spitefulness, jealousy, self righteousness, and our inability to really forgive. We are both the younger brother and the older brother. We are both in need of grace and are angered when grace is given to those we think do not deserve it.

For many of us, we are accustomed to sermons focusing on the sons and very little attention is given to the father in the story. The sermon is poignant when we focus on the sons, especially if you have ever found yourself faced down in pig slop wishing to go back home. However, when we place our focus on the sons, specifically the younger son, the beauty of the grace filled acts of the father are missed. We miss what the father is doing. Yes, we see him running, greeting the younger son with excitement. Yes, we see the father placing a ring on his finger and slaughtering a cow and throwing a party. Yes, we see the father welcoming the son back into the family but we miss what the father is doing. We miss the father's participation in the story.

We turn our attention to the two sons because it is easier to see, to view the story from their perspective but the sons are not the active participants in the story; the father is the lone active participant. While the younger son initiates the beginning of the parable by asking his father for his inheritance and runs off only to find himself face down in a pen of pigs, and has a moment of clarity, it is the father that runs to him.

“While he was still far off” Jesus says, implies that the father is looking for his son. I may be stretching the story but if my son has wandered away, I do not stop looking in the direction he left. Likewise, I believe Jesus is implying that the father has been actively watching for his youngest son to return home. As the son approaches and is still far off, the father is overcome with compassion and runs to him. The father does not jog, walk, or lollygag to his son; he runs. It is here we see the beginning of the image of God's grace in the kingdom of heaven. If the father is wealthy as the story suggests, then we are witnessing a man of great girth, lifting his robe up and running to greet his son like Friar Tuck running off to Sherwood Forest. We are witnessing something no one does in that culture, especially after your son has wished you dead. The father's overwhelming compassion leads him to break any form of tradition and culture propriety and run to his son. Here we see that grace in the kingdom of heaven comes to meet us before we even approach the throne of its king.

The grace of the father embraces the younger son before he can even recite his practiced speech. The grace of the father places a ring on the son's finger. The grace of the father welcomes the son back into the family, slaughters a calf, and throws a celebration because grace in the kingdom of heaven recognizes the beauty of one who finds new life in the kingdom. The grace of the kingdom of heaven is the inciting incident, the cause for our repentance. The acts of compassion, mercy, and grace of the father entices the son to return home. Somewhere deep inside as he is laying there in the slop, he knows that he can return home, even if it is just to be a hired hand. He knows the character of his father but it is the unexpected grace and compassion of the father that engulfs him as he is still far off. The grace of the father accompanies the younger son as the two walk back, arm in arm, together.

If the grace of the father embodies the grace of God in the kingdom of heaven then the father's explanation to the older son embodies the justice of God in the kingdom of heaven. The most difficult aspect of Christianity, specifically for Christians, is the relation between God's justice and God's grace. Some believe one will always take precedence over the other; however, I believe the story of the compassionate father and the two sons illustrates the understanding that the two are inseparable.

As the celebration for the return of the younger son begins, the older stands out in the field and “pouts”. He refuses to come in so the father, again being the activist, goes to him. It is the father who seeks out the second lost son and in his explanation we hear God's justice, “Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours. But we had to celebrate and rejoice, because this brother of yours was dead and has come to life; he was lost and has been found.” God's grace and justice are not absent of one another. In his explanation we hear that the younger son has become a part of the family again; however he will not receive another inheritance. What he has squandered is gone and what the father has left belongs to the older son. The grace of the father welcomes the younger son back home and back into the family; the justice of the father comes to life by entrusting the faithful son with all that is his. However, he is reminded as well that the kingdom of heaven justice means extending the kingdom of heaven grace to those who are sick; reminding us who are well to continually extend such grace because we are children of the kingdom of heaven.

In the kingdom of heaven, justice and grace are not absent of one another. We cannot have God's justice without God's grace. We cannot experience God's grace without experiencing God's justice. The parable illustrates to us that not only is God's grace unlimited in the kingdom of heaven but also God's justice is unlimited. For us Christians, for us who are the church, we must be constantly reminded of God's grace and not deny the grace of God through Christ to anyone as the older brother sought to do with the younger.

The justice of the kingdom of heaven extends beyond reminding the faithful son of what he is being entrusted with. It exudes how we are to extend such grace to those who need it most. The kingdom of heaven's justice resides within us who have experienced God's grace. For each one of us who found ourselves laying where the younger son lay often find ourselves standing where the oldest son stood. The kingdom of heaven justice reminds us of our own grace experience and we are to celebrate this return of the lost because God's justice and grace are not absent and that is what the kingdom of heaven is like.

Allow me to share two more stories. The first goes like this:

Once there was a young lady who had attended church her entire life. She became a follower of Christ at the age of 8 and from then on attended church faithfully with her parents. She received the perfect attendance award in Sunday school three years in a row. She barely missed winning it for a fourth consecutive year due to a sudden flu. By the time she was in high school she was the poster child for what it meant to be a good upstanding Christian. She joined every Christian club in high school and later on in college, even attending a good upstanding Baptist college. As she grew into adulthood, she found herself ordained as a deacon, Sunday school teacher, and worship leader. Everything about her life showed what it meant to have lived the faithful Christian life.

One day a rugged elderly man came into the church. He's clothes were tattered, his breath smelt as if he had frequented every local pub. He was disheveled and lowly as he took a seat near the back pew. No one dared to greet him. They were afraid he had mistakenly wondered in and did not want to disturb him or bother with him. The young lady noticed him in the back corner and informed an usher to keep an eye on him just in case. The worship service began and the man gave no notice. The congregation sang their hymns, the soloist brought tears to their eyes, and the sermon appealed emotionally to their hearts.

The time came for the invitation and our good Christian girl went down front, as she did every Sunday, to pray at the alter. In the midst of her prayer thanking God for not being like others and being blessed, the elderly drunk knelt down beside her, disrupting her prayer. He began to mumble inaudibly and getting up he staggered to the pastor. The young lady watched as the pastor embraced the man as if he'd been a long lost brother. They hugged and cried together until the hymn ended and held onto one another for what seemed like ages. After a few moments of awkward silence, the pastor introduced the newest member of the church, a new follower of Christ and the church erupted with applause. The young lady was furious.

The next morning she caught the pastor in his office and demanded to know why such grace, kindness, and love was exhibited to such a person in such a state. “If he wishes to be a part of this church,” she yelled, “he must show up sober and put together like the rest of us!”

The pastor smiled, invited her to sit, and told her this story (and this is our second story):

I recently heard this story on NPR's Morning Edition that I think speaks to our situation: This is a story about a 31-year-old New York City social worker named Julio Diaz. Diaz customarily followed the same routine each evening, ending his hour-long subway commute to the Bronx one stop early, just so he could eat at his favorite diner. But one night a few weeks earlier, as Diaz stepped off the No. 6 train and onto a nearly empty platform, his evening took an unexpected turn.

He was walking toward the stairs when a teenage boy approached and pulled out a knife and asked for his money. So Diaz gave the boy his wallet. As his assailant began to walk away, Diaz said, "Hey, wait a minute. You forgot something. If you're going to be robbing people all night, you might as well take my coat to keep you warm."

The young man looked at his victim like he was crazy, and asked, "Why are you doing this?" Diaz replied, "Well, if you're willing to risk your freedom for a few dollars, then I guess you must really need the money. I mean, all I wanted to do was get dinner... and if you want to join me... hey, you're more than welcome." Remarkably, the boy agreed, and the unlikely pair walked into the diner and sat in a booth.

Shortly the manager came by, the dishwasher came by, the waiters came by to greet him. The kid asked “You know everybody here. Do you own this place?" "No," Diaz replied, "I just eat here a lot."

The boy responded, "But you're even nice to the dishwasher."

"Well, haven't you been taught that you should be nice to everybody?" Diaz asked him.

"Yeah, but I didn't think people actually behaved that way," the boy said.

The social worker saw an opening. He asked the boy what he wanted out of life.” He just had almost a sad face. He couldn't answer--or he didn't want to.

When the bill arrived, Diaz told the teen, "Look, I guess you're going to have to pay for this bill 'cause you have my money and I can't pay for it. But if you give me my wallet back, I'll gladly treat you."

The teen "didn't even think about it" and handed over the wallet, Diaz said. "So, I gave him $20... I figured maybe it would help him...." But Diaz asked for something in return, and the boy gave it to him. It was his knife.¹

The young lady starred at the pastor. He then said, “We may not have all been where that boy was or where our new friend was. We may not have ever needed such grace extended to us but I would hope that if I ever fell to such a way, the grace of God would be extended to me in such way that caused a joyous celebration.”

Perhaps what is missing from our churches these days are not the absence of people but the absence of grace and justice; the grace and justice of the kingdom of the heaven as we have seen in the grace and justice of our lord, Christ Jesus. The parable of the prodigal son challenges the church and it's people by saying God's grace must be extended to the oppressed and to the oppressor so that one may find welcome, the other repentance, and both find peace, hope, love, and forgiveness. It is a challenge of God's grace and justice to both the lost and the saved.

1As heard on Morning Edition, March 28, 2008, as reported by Michael Garofalo. As heard in the sermon, “Which Comes First: Grace or Repentance?” by Rev. Dr. Robert Dunham, March 14, 2010 

Lenten Journal: How to Live a Powerless Life

How to Live a Powerless Life

By Jonathan Davis

I’m not goanna lie, most of the time I would prefer to be powerful instead of powerless. Most of my life I’ve been told (and I’m betting you have too) that being powerful is necessary to get ahead in the world. From the time we are kids many of us are conditioned to seek power. For me it started early. By second grade I was a rising ninja warrior, to be feared on playgrounds and schoolyards far and wide.

During recess in elementary school we used to play pretend “Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.” The Turtles would battle Shredder and his cronies with pretend ninja weapons and sometimes very real roundhouse kicks to the face. I got sent to the principal’s office one time for giving some kid named Jimmy a bloody nose from my sweet ninja moves. I was only in second grade and wouldn’t see Napoleon Dynamite for nearly two decades. When the principle asked why I gave Jimmy a bloody nose I said “I was playing Donatello and I have good bō staff skills.” Nobody ever wanted to play the part of Shredder on the playground, because everybody knew that Shredder could never win. Everyone wanted to be on the hero’s side. Everyone wanted to identify with the winning team. Everyone wanted power.

I’m a news junkie and I have about twelve news apps on my phone. I had a revelation the other day; the reason I like news so much is that I feel as if knowledge and information give me power. If I know more facts than those around me then I feel like I have the upper hand in my conversations and ministry situations. I spend hours some days consuming information from sources like Time Magazine, TechCrunch, and The Washington Post. Haven’t you heard all your life the old saying that “knowledge is power?” We tell our teens “get a good education and you’ll get a better job.” As a youth minister I constantly see the pressure placed on teens by parents and teachers to perform so the teens get into top college programs. Students are told, “If you have a perfect GPA you can get into a better school and you’ll have better opportunities in life.” While I don’t argue that this is true to a point I wonder if the words “better opportunity” actually mean “more power.”

The irony of the Gospel is this: As much as we are obsessed with obtaining power for ourselves, we are powerless before a Holy God, and powerless before the Cross. The Gospel is in-congruent with seeking power for oneself. This is a rich truth for the Lenten season. The sacrifice of Jesus, the salvation that God brought at Calvary and the resurrection all have nothing to do with our own power. Paul famously wrote in Romans:

“6 You see, at just the right time, when we were still powerless, Christ died for the ungodly. 7 Very rarely will anyone die for a righteous person, though for a good person someone might possibly dare to die. 8 But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” - Romans 5:6-8

As much as we are obsessed with power in our culture, it gives me peace to know I’m powerless before the Almighty. Salvation is about resting in God’s grace, and trusting in God’s power instead of our own. By sacrificing himself in the most gruesome way imaginable, Jesus became more powerful. In submitting himself to the powerful Roman execution system, Jesus worked out Salvation and redemption for all humanity through perfect sacrifice. Lent is about identifying with the suffering-servant Savior, and recognizing our powerlessness to gain salvation on our own. The Gospel is not about our power, but rather God’s power.

Remember the thought that the Gospel is incongruent with seeking power for oneself? This is the hardest truth for me to grapple with during Lent. I seek power for myself more than I care to admit. In committee meetings at church, in my marriage, in my relationships with colleagues, in the local community, I seek power. Our culture is obsessed with seeking power, and worships powerful people. Think about it. In our country: elected officials grab for power instead of govern, militarism is running our national budget into the ground but no one has the will to challenge it, businesses ruthlessly compete for market share and layoffs for middle class workers keep coming while executives get millions in bonuses, marriages fall apart because of the financial strain that comes from keeping up with the Jones, and wars over worship styles and the color of the carpet split churches. Many of our society’s problems would improve dramatically if people sought less power for themselves, but there are two problems inherently with this grand idea, 1.) That’s contrary to human nature, and 2.) Most people don’t live Gospel-centered lives.

Seeking power in many ways is about obtaining a sense of perfection. They worshipped Caesar as a god, and he was the embodiment of power in Jesus’s day. The fact is we are powerless to obtain perfection. Christ didn’t live by the earthly Law of Power. Christ ushered in the Law of Love. Which law do you live by, The Law of Power or Christ’s Law of Love? Gandhi once said, “The day the power of love overrules the love of power, the world will know peace.” Last time I checked Christians worship the “Prince of Peace.” We should remember this more than once a year at Christmas time. Do we seek God or do we seek power?

Christ sacrificed himself for us out of love, and we are called to wrestle with the fact that the God of the universe hung powerless, naked, and dejected on a cross as ransom for our sin. What’s even scarier is that we are called to follow Christ’s example of love and sacrifice. This idea should not be taken lightly. Lent is a time to reflect on our own powerlessness in light of who God is, and to trade our desire for power for a desire to share God’s sacrificial love with the world. Once we reach the point of surrendering our power, we find that relying on the power of God is freeing. So during Lent and always, feel free to be powerless, and rest in God’s power instead.