advent

the hovelled spirit longs to be free--to be beautiful
and you, how you hover long to free us
your forever gaze fills us and we are beautiful--you are beautiful
holiness is your welcome
holiness, your embrace
holiness is all that ever set us free
come! beget in us the risen one
beget in us--eternity--your son
amen

I am sending you

My journey began in Galilee. Jesus sent the twelve disciples on a mission, out on their own.[1] After they returned, Jesus began to disclose to his disciples how the Son of Man must be betrayed into human hands to suffer, die and rise on the third day.[2] How could this make any sense? The Son of Man was supposed to come in clouds of glory with great power to judge the nations.[3] The crowds were told “The kingdom of God is at hand!”[4] but we were told that this coming one would be crushed.

I wracked my head trying to remember all he was teaching us from the time we headed up to Jerusalem until we reached the outskirt of David’s City. Jesus seemed to know that entering Jerusalem would be the death of him. In fact, he held back, saying, “No prophet could be killed outside of Jerusalem.”[5] Before we entered the City, he tried a few more times to tell how the Son of Man would suffer.[6] It still did not make any sense to us. Perhaps we didn’t want it to make sense. It seemed he had been preparing us all along for the days ahead, not just the hour of his death, but even more the years that followed his ascension. He told us days would come when we would long to see one of the days of the Son of Man.[7] Indeed there have been many of those days! But this takes me back to the beginning. What was he trying to teach along the way? What was it he wanted us to see?

The twelve seemed to think they had some special status over the rest of us. After all, they were the apostles. They even argued with one another.[8] On one occasion, Jesus drew a little child close to him and said, “Do you see this child standing next to me? Whoever welcomes this child in my name welcomes me.”[9] (For some reason that line stood out for me, and many years later it came back to me in a song.) They seemed to treat us like the little children, but we were disciples of this great prophet all the same. Didn’t we too have a prophet’s call? We were always standing next to Jesus. In fact, some of us supported Jesus and the twelve out of our own resources, and some of us were the first to see his empty tomb. [10] Sure it wasn’t official until Peter came on the scene,[11] but we were there—we were there all along.

At any rate, Jesus looked at that one little child and said, “The least one of us is great in God’s own eye.” A few of our mothers remembered that even before he was born, no less than the Prophet John the Baptist was said to be great in the sight of the Lord.[12] Sometimes only a parent can see these things. We knew this one was to be a great prophet too. Jesus seemed to say, “Whoever listens to you—a child—listens to me.”[13] It had nothing to do with status or authority as the world reckons it. Just as some had welcomed Jesus as a great prophet,[14] anyone who would welcome this child in his name welcomes even Jesus, the Son of Man. And whoever welcomes the Son of Man also welcomes the one who sends him. Of course the opposite is also true, there are many who reject both us and the Son of Man!

I don’t think the twelve ever really got it.[15] That child was already a great one in the reign of prophets, the kingdom of God, no less than John the Baptist—if only by virtue of standing next to Jesus as an object lesson.[16] Wasn’t Jesus himself like a child when he stood by the Baptist? [17] He only had to ask for John’s baptism for the heavens to open up. Jesus made it so simple. He said that it was the Father’s good pleasure to give us the kingdom, and that the heavenly Father knew how to give the good gift of the Holy Spirit to those who ask.[18] So we do not give up praying, even when the heavens seem to be shut up and no showers of justice appear on the horizon. Even a poor widow could badger a little justice out of corrupt judge.[19] This is how Jesus taught us to pray and how he prayed so often alone at night or with a few disciples near by. Both prayer and the Holy Spirit were learned on the road.

I recall one time not long after the twelve came back from their first mission.[20] Jesus wanted to meet privately with them. They went off to a secluded place in the desert, but the crowds found them out and poured in by the thousands. They twelve had learned much about hospitality having lived from village to village on their mission with only the welcome of a few as their means of sustenance. When they saw the multitudes who had gathered around them at this remote location, they knew that there would not be enough food to go around. They were overwhelmed with ministry and now with the demand of hospitality. They took this to Jesus, but he put it right back to them saying that they give the crowds food to eat. They had cast out demons and healed the sick, but were nowhere prepared to feed so many. The twelve were humbled by the five thousand. Jesus made up for the lack, but how would they get along without him? Even dividing the crowd into groups of fifty each, how could twelve disciples serve some one hundred groups? Just picking up the broken pieces was well more that twelve baskets could handle.

And there was another broken piece. After the crowds had dispersed, Jesus returned to his original intention which was to meet privately with the disciples.[21] He needed to disclose to them what he saw in the road ahead. With only the disciples nearby, he shares something about his destiny, something about who he is, something that the crowds and not even the disciples were prepared to grasp. To the crowds Jesus was like John the Baptist, Elijah, or some ancient prophet who had stirred the people. To the twelve he was coming into view as the Messiah and so were twelve seats of power. But Jesus reveals only that “The Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, chief priests and scribes, and be killed, and on the third day be raised.”[22] (Luke 9:22).

Before entering Jerusalem, his disciples could not fully grasp what the suffering of the Son of Man would mean either for Jesus or for the disciples themselves. Their eyes were opened to the resurrection only after he had arisen. But there were even greater trials for the disciples after his ascension. Jesus had to prepare them for this from the beginning.[23] He would say to them, “If any wish to be my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me.”[24]

Just as bread was to be blessed, broken and set before the multitudes, it was time for Jesus to bless and break, and send out more disciples. So it was eight days later that Jesus took Peter, James and John up the mountain to pray.[25] While the three disciples were captivated by the dazzling display of light about Jesus and the appearance of Moses and Elijah in glory, Moses and Elijah spoke to Jesus about his departure which he was about to accomplish in Jerusalem. The brilliance of the Transfiguration seemed to conceal the darkness of the cross, but even this darkness swallowed up the disciples for a moment and terrified them.

Jesus comprehended the darkness of the cross. He knew the distance and span of his life was short, even so he set his face to go to Jerusalem where he would eat his last Passover meal. He appointed seventy more disciples to go as he has sent the twelve.[26] He sent them by pairs that they would ahead of him to places he himself had once intended to go. He sent them like day laborers into fields that were too many and too ready for harvest for what little time he had left.[27]

“See, I am sending you out like lambs in the midst of wolves.”[28] He sent us in full vulnerability. This was our share in the suffering of the Son of Man. We would be welcome in one town and hated in another. The Son of Man was to be rejected and so were we.

“Carry no purse, no bag, no sandals.”[29] He sent the disciples like day laborers into the fields. We worked and ate what was set before us. We would cure the sick, cast out demons and announce that the kingdom of God has come near.

Despite the dangers and hardships we always found places of welcome. Upon entering a house we would say, “Peace be upon this house.”[30] We looked for those whom we called “children of peace.”[31] They were the ones who welcomed us and received the peace we had to share. Jesus taught us to seek this peace first, even before healing, preaching or eating. We came as a delegation offering terms of peace.[32] Wherever we found a child of peace, a true lamb in the midst of wolves, we knew that the entire kingdom was coming into view.

We returned with joy, and Jesus said, “I watched Satan fall from heaven like a flash of lightning. See I have given you authority to tread on snakes and scorpions, and over all the power of the enemy; nothing will hurt you. Rejoice that your names are written in heaven. Blessed are the eyes that see what you see!”[33]

Taking all this in, I wondered what the coming of the Son of Man looks like. And it came to me not only in a flash, but also measure by measure, line upon line, some hidden and some so visible that one does not see it. It came to me as a song.


Like Lambs among the Wolves [Midi]


Do you see this child standing next to me?
Whoever welcomes this child in my name welcomes me too

The least of you is great in God’s own eye
Whoever listens to you—a child—listens to me—and

I am sending you, yes I am sending you
Like lambs among the wolves I am sending you

Do not pack a bag or an extra pair of shoes
The children of peace will welcome you

The Son of man will come, the Son of Man will come
The Son of man will come on that day—See

I am sending you, yes I am sending you
Like lambs among the wolves I am sending you

[1] Lk 9:1-6
[2] Lk 9:21-22
[3] Dn 7: 13-14, Lk 21:26-28; 9:26; 11:29-32; 12:8-9; 17:22-25,27-37; 18:7-8
[4] Lk 4:43; 8:1
[5] Lk 13:33
[6] Lk 17:25; 18:31-34
[7] Lk 17:22
[8] Lk 9:46; 22:24-26
[9] Lk 9:46-48
[10] Lk 8:1-3; 24:1-11
[11] Compare Lk 8:11 with verses 12, 33-34
[12] Lk 1:15
[13] Lk 10:16, I’m inserting “child” here on basis of 9:48.
[14] Prophecies of Simeon and Anna regarding Jesus and Zechariah regarding John demonstrate the welcoming of a prophet in childhood, Lk 2:25-38; 1:66,76.
[15] They had to re-learn the lesson at the last supper! Lk 22:23-27
[16] Lk 7:28. Prophetic gesture is often as powerful as any spoken word.
[17] Lk 3:21-22. Also early Christian art often portrays Jesus with the stature of a boy at the time of his baptism, while John is portrayed at a full adult.
[18] Lk 11:13; 12:32
[19] Lk 18:1-8
[20] Lk 9:10-17
[21] Lk 9:10 original purpose with resumption in vv. 18-27.
[22] Lk 9:22. Also I prefer to read vv. 18-22 as an uninterrupted passage. For Luke and Mark 8:29, Peter’s confession transitions directly to Jesus Son of Man disclosure. Only Matthew 16:16-21 inserts so much pro-Peter content as to disconnect the story. Mark 8:32-33 actually points out how Peter embarrasses himself by rebuking Jesus for his disclosure.
[23] Luke suggests that the disciples only come to understand Jesus’ Son of Man disclosure after the resurrection, 24:6-8, 25-27, 44-46. The disciples were prepared for this post-resurrection moment so that would be “witness of these things.” (v. 47-49)
[24] Lk 9:23, 14:21
[25] Lk 9:28-36
[26] Lk 10:1-20
[27] Lk 10:1-2
[28] Lk 10:3
[29] Lk 10: 4
[30] Lk 10:5-6
[31] Lk 10:6 read, “If there is a son of peace (huios eirēnēs), your peace shall rest on him.”
[32] Lk 14:32
[33] Lk 10:18-20,23

I used to be spiritual

God speaks and it comes into being.
God commands and it stands. ~ Psalm 33:9, my paraphrase

I used to be a spiritual person. I used to pray and meditate daily, easily an hour or more in a sitting. I used to strive. I was disciplined and brought my practice into daily life. Each moment was an opportunity to remember God, to center myself, to be in mystic connection. If I lost this connection, my wife would tell me to go meditate. She could see the difference it made in my ease of being. And I had other friends and signals that would remind me to return and to begin again. The spiritual path as I saw it was a matter of starting over again and again, a willingness to return to the path whenever I should wander. These were years of great spiritual awakening. God spoke and my spirit came into being.

But now I am on a different path. I am called not to peaceful recollection, but to struggle. I try to balance too many things. I am overwhelmed. Still this is my call. I am not given to delight and awakening, but to frustration and confusion. My plans come to nothing. I try to comfort myself and cover my tracks. My efforts to return are futile. The current of life sweeps me up, and I do not know where it will take me or even why. My spiritual life is not my own. It is not private and I cannot direct it. My struggle is not for me, but what it is for I do not know. If God says “toil”, then I toil. But I do not see the fruit. If God says “worry”, then I am full of anxiety with no purpose in sight. If God says “mourn” or “grieve”, then I abhor myself. All my plans come to nothing. Only what God commands will endure.

My only consolation is that God commands. What God commands will stand. Those whom God commands are already empowered and equipped. They are fitted for the battle. My confidence cannot be in my preparation, but only in God’s command. God says, “Stand here and know the full blast of living in this place. Be overworked. Be overwhelmed. Know painfully and intimately the anxiety of this age. Grieve for this generation. Lose your soul to the system. Eat till you vomit. Hopeless against futility.”

I can speculate about what this means, but I have been taught not to speculate. Mine is not to speculate but to know, and I can only know what God has given me to know, to experience, to live. What I live is the curse of this age. What I experience is decay, a bloated hunger that gnaws. What I know is the sickness of this world, the world of machination, the futile path of ambition, the vanity of spiritual consolation.

Learn from me

One can choose from a variety of kinds of discipleship. At one end there are the impossibly high views of discipleship, such as my last post You cannot become my disciple. Dietrich Bonhoeffer's Cost of Discipleship is a good example of, well, costly discipleship. I find it easy to despair when I read it. It seems humanly impossible. (See Kjos Ministries for excerpts selected by a conservative brother.)

At the other end of the spectrum, there are the amazingly-low-cost forms of discipleship, nominal Christianity, discipleship by association, say, casual church attendance at most. It's far too cheap--bargain basement--and really isn't worth as much anyway.

Now there are the would-be disciples who when asked to go beyond a comfort zone—to actually give up something—find that they just can make the exchange. They are the camels who cannot fit through the eye of the needle. They are the rich ones who cannot let go of their wealth or their security. They are the pearl buyers who cannot bargain their inventory of cheap pearls for one precious pearl of greater worth. They are the ones who cannot break from the cares of this life.

(I like to think of myself in this second-rate category. It is an aspiration.)

In our human capacity, it is impossible to become a disciple. Those who heard it said, "Then who can be saved?" He replied, "What is impossible for mortals is possible for God." ~ Luke 18:26-27

I used to think this passage was about personal salvation. In this story, however, the one who "went away sad; for he was very rich" was unable to accept Jesus' invitation to discipleship. This is not to say that discipleship is a prerequisite for "salvation," but that this would-be disciple was not yet freed from his many possessions. He was not sufficiently liberated, enlightened or whatever it might call it to abandon himself and accept the call of discipleship.

(In what sense, can we say that such a person is saved?)

Fortunately, there is an alternative. It is called suffering. It’s long, tedious, unrelenting, miserable, and often meaningless suffering, but seems to work for some of us. Suffering in this life can pry us loose from things we once thought were so very essential. It may be quick or slow like peeling off a band-aid. A near death experience can jolt us into realizing that 99% of what's in our life has not the least importance. Or like Martha we fuss about so many things when only one thing is needed. Perhaps Martha has got to wear herself out and burn out completely, until she comes to choose the better path.

(Could Martha have chosen a “better” path to discipleship as Mary seemed to have?)

There's another kind of a third-rate disciple. This is the kind that wants to squeeze in close to Jesus, perhaps for favors, respect, or power. These are the all-too-religious, ambitious type of disciple. They see Jesus as some sort of "in" with the Godfather. Really they're looking to work their way up to make deals with the Big Guy, or at least cut them for the rest of us. These can become the "thugs for Jesus." Jesus died for sinners, but he gets whacked by these guys. And they'll bust your kneecaps if you don't show the right respect to the Boss.

(Whose disciples are these, anyway?)

Ordinary, good Christians are willing to follow the third-rate disciples or at least let them do what they want. These are the nice, wholesome churchgoers, who don't rock anything, those are fearful of controversy and church splits, those who really don’t want anything to change. Perhaps they have no hope of anything better.

This kind of discipleship tends to focus on issues of personal sin, public morality, or social responsibility. If only...everyone could be like us.

Some of these fourth-rate disciples actually believe Jesus died for their personal sins. Never mind the Jesus bore the sin of the whole world. Never mind the people who are literally enslaved, exploited for profit, beaten, raped, starved and discarded. They are crushed by a whole empire of sin. Nope, Jesus did not die for this sin of the world, the corporate clamor for power that degrades the whole creation. No, the accept Jesus as their personal lord and savior. This Jesus died so that God could forgive those burdened with the guilt of sweaty dreams and chocolate cakes.

You see, Jesus doesn't really want me to be a fat, ugly, hideous, disgusting loser of a person. So, God is still working on me. Everyday I get into the word and get a little closer. Someday I get over feeling so bad about me. You see, God wants me to be a beautiful person...because in His eyes...I am beautiful. I really, really want my life to really glorify Him 'cause He is so awesome.

Yes, I do believe the Jesus came to save sinners such as these, even a wanna-be like me.

The problem is we do not know what sin is. We cannot see it though it looks back at us in the mirror. We see rather only the sins we have been shamed to see, the ones we hide, the one that tell us how useless we are, or the ones that let us off the hook of responsibility. It would be far better for us to go “sin boldly.” Eat the whole chocolate cake, in fact, eat two. Work out your lusty affairs till you can take it any more. Get it out of your system. Eat until you vomit. Then maybe you'll be fit to enter the kingdom!


Still I am convinced that God is merciful. The one who is gentle and humble of heart, the human one says, "Learn from me and you will be my disciples. Stay here with me and you will be my witness in all the earth. "


You see, it has nothing to do with you. It’s not about me. Discipleship is a matter of the body prophetic and incarnate priesthood of the crucified one. It is enough to live the presence of the risen one. Lose yourself--your insecurity, ambition, pettiness, shame--and enter the consuming vision of the holy one. Learn from me.

You cannot become my disciple

A reflection on Luke 14:25-33 (Seems I am always a day late on the lectionary, but here goes.)

Jesus turns to the large crowds to say, “None of you can become my disciple.” If this does not piss off the pious among us, even the piety within us, I don’t know what would.

Could Jesus have made it any clearer how foolish are the large ones among us?

There are some who want to build large towers for themselves, but they have no idea of what they are doing. They fill their pews with thousands of seekers and admirers. But they do not perceive their own vanity, nor do they fear from what ridiculous heights they will fall.

Puffy preachers and crowd pleasers, in your heart you despise my cross. Go away, you are not worthy of my discipleship.

There are others who lead the charge against the morally week. But they have no accountably for their bathroom deals and the company they keep. Shamelessly, they lose the war against their most base desires even as they heap judgment upon others.

Foolish fiddlers, you have set your fingers against my little ones. My discipleship for you is to set your shame before the eyes of all.

Lost are the pious ones who follow in large crowds. You are the good husbands and faithful wives. You are the loving parents and obedient children. You are brothers and sisters to all who greet you. You wrap yourselves in the comfort of family, the rightness of tradition and the illusion of respectability.

Dolts, you seek only your best life ever. You cannot become my disciple.

Are we angry yet? Have we got the message? None of us will ever become a disciple.

Because we lack the pure hatred, sufficient anger to dispose of all you possess, we will forever dodge the flames of Christ's baptism. So we will never know the passion within Jesus' bosom. Can anything but the cross ever cut us loose?

Enter the narrow door

Meditation on Luke 13:22-30. [Full text at bottom of post.]

Jesus went through one town and village after another, teaching as he made his way to Jerusalem. (v. 22)

Strive to enter through the narrow door. (v. 24a)

Jesus must have faced many narrowed and closed doors. He taught going from town to town on his way to Jerusalem. How few would receive a prophet into their own home! How many would say to the teacher, “Go away from me. I do not know where you come from.”!

Still the wandering prophet seeks even the least opening for the kingdom of God. Who will open their door to the one? And who strives to enter that narrow door?

Someone asked him, "Lord, will only a few be saved?" (v. 23a)

Perhaps it's not about who will be saved, but who will receive one who brings good news. Jesus is the un-welcomed stranger. Through mistrust many will narrow and close their doors. Though he amuse the crowds on the streets, even to eat and drink with them, few will follow a prophet all the way to Jerusalem, "Jerusalem, the city that kills its prophets."

The prophet strives to enter the narrow door of our heart.

One psychologist compared me to his own pastor. Aparently that minister is more outgoing than I. He had literally gone from door to door to start up his own church. The evaluator told me I’d never do that; it just wasn’t in my profile. Should I believe the good doctor over the one who calls me? Should I turn away from the narrowing of the door? Or shall I take up my staff and walk with his mantle upon me?

The kingdom of God consists of Abraham and Isaac and Jacob and all the prophets. May we not be ashamed at the sight of them, but may we be numbered among this band. May all those who walk the road of the prophets, walk all the way to Jerusalem.

Strive to enter the narrow door.

Luke 13:22-30 22 Jesus went through one town and village after another, teaching as he made his way to Jerusalem. 23 Someone asked him, "Lord, will only a few be saved?" He said to them, 24 "Strive to enter through the narrow door; for many, I tell you, will try to enter and will not be able. 25 When once the owner of the house has got up and shut the door, and you begin to stand outside and to knock at the door, saying, 'Lord, open to us,' then in reply he will say to you, 'I do not know where you come from.' 26 Then you will begin to say, 'We ate and drank with you, and you taught in our streets.' 27 But he will say, 'I do not know where you come from; go away from me, all you evildoers!' 28 There will be weeping and gnashing of teeth when you see Abraham and Isaac and Jacob and all the prophets in the kingdom of God, and you yourselves thrown out. 29 Then people will come from east and west, from north and south, and will eat in the kingdom of God. 30 Indeed, some are last who will be first, and some are first who will be last."

Church Blessing and Control

I've had to ask myself, what is ordination for ministry? Since I myself am pursuing ordination, I've had to think deeply why it matters to me. After all, as a baptized believer, I am already called and empowered to share the gospel in how I live and what I say. In this country, I could even start my own independent, non-denominational church if I wanted to! So why seek ordination within any denomination?

For me the answer comes down to accountability and blessing. Clearly, accountability is important for the benefit and protection of those with whom I serve—even my family and myself. I know enough of my own sinfulness to know that I need this. But lately I been coming to a deeper appreciation of why blessing matters in ministry and how painful it is to have that blessing withheld.

Last week my pastor, Bradley Schmeling, was removed from the roster of ordained ministers of the Evangelical Lutheran Church of America (ELCA). He was removed for violating a church policy barring gay ministers in the ELCA from being in committed relationships with someone of the same sex. The members of St. John's Lutheran Church in Atlanta, Georgia, unanimously support and value our pastor. Personally, he is one of the finest ministers I have had the privilege of knowing.

The denominational rejection of our pastor was definitely not for the sake of protecting our congregation from a bad minister. I believe strongly that denominational discipline of minister must be applied to protect congregations and congregants, say, in the case of embezzlement, sexual harassment, and any number of other situations of making improper use of ministerial office. But this is not the case at St. John's. The Disciplinary Hearing Committee found no lack in his ministry or any way that his gay or partnered status had somehow impaired his ministry among us. The DHC also determined that the specific policies baring “practicing” homosexuals from ministry were "bad policy," but they did not go so far as to disregard the explicit policy.

So if not for the wellbeing of the congregation, why did the Committee on Appeals overturn the decision of the disciplinary committee so to remove Pastor without delay? I must admit that I do not understand why that the CoA took so lightly the concern of the DHC that the specific policies are "at least bad policy, if not unconstitutional" regarding ELCA constitutional standards? But whatever their motivation their decision stands as a painful intrusion into the life of our congregation.

I had not anticipated what such a removal could mean to a congregation such as ours. Usually, we think about what removal of ordination means to the clergy member so disciplined, but not to the congregations that have called such a pastor to ministry.

The members of St. John's were informed two days before the decision became public knowledge. We were all shocked and upset. We have loved and have been loved by Pastor Bradley for seven years. Such is a sacred bond between a pastor and congregation. But this bond was disregarded by a church body that would not even meet with us. Many of us were angry at the decision. We had struggled so long to hold our head up, but now that rejection that was aimed at our pastor was our portion as well.

When I heard the news I was unusually calm and hopeful. I thought this was just a momentary set back that would only serve to charge the Churchwide Assembly in August to remove this bad policy once and for all--and I remain hopeful at this prospect. But a few days later it sunk in just how sad it made me. While others had responded with anger and hurt feelings, I guess I was more in the denial camp. Grief was our reality in either case.

How can so many in the denomination who know nothing of our congregational life feel that they can judge us and our pastor whom we have called and wish to retain? How can they reduce what's best for our congregational life to a quibble about church policy and biblical interpretation? Do we even matter? Or is this just an opportunity for the conservative wing of the church to score a few points for their "biblical worldview"?

It shouldn't matter much. Our pastor will continue to serve as our pastor with or without the blessing of the ELCA. If our detractors wish us out of the denomination, they'll have to push a lot harder; we're not moving. Last Sunday we had worship just the same as any Sunday. Our pastor presided over the Lord's Table and we partook in this sacrament.

This brings me back to my basic question. Why does ordination matter? The most guarded privilege of ordained ministry in the ELCA is the ministry of sacrament. In principle, layperson Bradley should not preside over communion or baptisms at St. John's, and the congregation should not accept invalid administration of the sacraments.

Consequently, the disciplinary action against Pastor Schmeling deprives our congregation of either our pastor or the sacraments. This is what happens when the blessing of ordination is withdrawn. The blessing of the ELCA is no longer with us.

What should we do? Perhaps we should abstain from the Eucharist. We could lift up an empty cup and a plate with no bread. We could confess the hidden bread of doing God's will and the wine of fellowship in the Holy Spirit. I am sure that God and the grace of God can meet us even as we lift our own hearts as empty vessels. We can hunger and thirst after righteousness. We can stand with all who have been pushed away from the table. We can still stand around the altar and pray for one another. We can still anoint each other with oil and drive away sickness.

I wonder how Luther and his congregation felt about worship when Luther was excommunicated from the church. He never chose to leave; he was kicked out. Despite his own anxieties, Luther must have held the conviction that the gifts of God are for the people of God with or without the blessing of Rome? And lest we forget, Pope Benedict XVI felt a need to remind us all that the Protestant churches are not churches and lack the real means of grace.

What does it mean when the church withholds blessing from sincere ministry? I suspect what is really going on is that leaders misconstrue authority with control. Luther was excommunicated because those in power could not control him. And to this day the Vatican withholds the blessing of Apostolic Succession from the Protestant churches. A wave of the Pope's hand with prayer and a bit of oil could solve this whole problem once and for all if not for the strings of control. But closer to home, there are elements within the ELCA who want to control congregations like St. John's and pastors like Bradley Schmeling by withholding the blessing of ordination.

When will we learn that authority is not about control? It is about blessing. Jesus commands his disciples to love one another. This command is not about control. Control never brings about love. But Jesus has the authority to command love because he blesses his disciples and gives them the Holy Spirit to accomplish whatever love demands. Jesus has this authority because he lived and suffered what love required. While Pontius Pilate bartered for power and control, Jesus released his control into the hands of those who crucified him. This is the authority I long to see, and this is the blessing.

Come Melchizedek, bring your wine and bread,
Restore our fellowship and make us whole.
Prince of Salem, Priest of God Most High,
We are called to be a people like you.

One Sunday Morning

One Sunday Morning, or A Vision of the Church as Spirit and Bride

I believe in the Holy Spirit, the holy catholic church, the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body, and the life everlasting. ~ Thrid Article of the Apostles Creed.

That Sunday I felt out of sorts. I was exhausted and spiritually depleted. I took myself to church anyway. Arriving well after the service had begun, I sat down in the back and off to the side. Feeling disconnected, I just sat and watched. I seemed to have no energy to do otherwise.

As I looked around, I noticed how people were praying, listening, singing, how each one was experiencing the service. I followed the reader who got up, walked over to a large book and read with a dry voice. I listened to a singer labor at her song. I considered how the preacher seemed to carry on a kind of conversation with the congregation and then to talk at length. Later the congregation sung a hymn in response.

At some point—I don’t know when—I began to witness another presence. All the people were like little actors through which a greater spirit was at work. It was not the reader who read but this spirit. It was not the singer who sung, but the spirit who labored within her. The spirit was manifest in the experience of each congregant. One congregant would smile while another felt the oncoming of tears. One would listen attentively while another found a kind of rest. The spirit was urgent or distant according to a higher will. The singing was humble and human, but it was also enveloped in another chorus of angels, archangels and saints. The spirit was at once the conductor, the breath, the voice, the song. This was surely true, though the ones who participated had little awareness. The spirit animated each in spite of their self-engagement, each speaking a word never learned and seldom heard.

At once I realized that there was nothing for me to do—no ministry, no effort, no necessity. The church is all spirit and all sufficiently in-fleshed. What is ministry but to witness? It is spirit. It is not unfolding. It is not becoming. It is not yet to be. It simply is. And it is whether we perceive it or not.

As people filed around the altar to receive bread and wine, I remained in my seat, a watcher at his post. I heard a melody. Not in the spirit, but played note by note on the piano. It was beautiful as it was, inviting and strangely familiar. Where had I heard this? Then I remembered with a jolt. That song had come through me. I had penned the words, “Welcome my full welcome; all my children come to me. I will make a way for you; I will make you holy.” I welled up but not for pride or a sense of accomplishment. I wept because it was beautiful just as it was—sung back to me, no doing on my part. Each sang as the spirit sang in each.

So I witness to the spirit and the bride who say, Come.

Anointed by a Woman

Who anointed God’s Anointed? In Luke’s Gospel (4:18), Jesus claims that the “Spirit of the Lord” had anointed him, but what prophet could have stood as God’s representative in anointing Jesus? What Samuel anointed this Son of David[1]? While John baptized Jesus, he claimed not to be worthy to loosen his sandals[2] and applied no ointment.

According to the four Gospels, Jesus was anointed only by a woman[3]. This woman’s identity is obscure and her action ambiguous. Like a good parable, these stories confound our pious expectations and expose our self-serving rationalizations. Luke’s variant of this story stands out as particularly incongruent with the other Gospels. Indeed, I will argue that Luke deliberately inverts the story to further his vision of Jesus as the prophet of the poor, women, and untouchables.

I will begin by setting out the basic structure of the story. In subsequent paragraphs, I will compare the content choices of Luke to the other accounts, noting in particular how and why key elements have been inverted. Finally, I will summarize the resulting impact of Luke’s retelling. The basic story is as follows. I note with emphasis where Luke departs from other Gospels.

1. Setting

a. Time – Two (Mt, Mk) or six (Jn) days before Jesus final Passover; early in Jesus ministry (Lk)

b. Location – Bethany, near Jerusalem (Mt, Mk, Jn); Galilee (Lk)

c. Host – Simon, the Leper (Mt, Mk); Simon, the Pharisee (Lk); Lazarus & Martha (Jn)

d. Jesus' posture – Reclining at table (Mt, Mk, Lk, Jn)

2. Action of woman

a. Characterization of woman – “a woman” (Mt, Mk); “woman from the city…a sinner” (Lk); Mary, sister of Martha & Lazarus (Jn)

b. The ointment – Alabaster jar of costly ointment of nard (Mt, Mk, Lk); pound of costly perfume of nard (Jn)

c. Method of anointing – Pouring on head (Mt, Mk); anointing feet and wiping with hair (Lk, Jn), also weeping and kissing feet (Lk)

3. Reaction of indignant critic

a. Identification of the critic – “some were indignant” (Mk); some indignant disciples (Mt); the host Simon, the Pharisee (Lk); Judas Iscariot (Jn)

b. Object of indignation – The woman (Mt, Mk, Jn); Jesus (Lk)

c. Rationalization – Extravagant use of costly resource better spent on the poor (Mt, Mk, Jn); Impropriety of prophet who allows himself to be touched by a sinner (Lk)

4. Jesus’ response to criticism

a. Defense of woman’s action – A beautiful gesture, preparation of Jesus’ body for burial (Mt, Mk, Jn); woman’s hospitality contrasted with the inhospitality of host/critic (Lk)

b. Rebuke of critic – Critic does not really care about the poor (Mk, Jn); parable of forgiveness leads critic to judge against himself (Lk)

c. Wisdom teaching – “You will always have that poor, but you will not always have me.” (Mt, Mk, Jn); “The one who is forgiven much, loves much.” (Lk)

d. Vindication of woman – Gospel will be proclaimed “in remembrance of her” (Mt, Mk); woman’s sins forgiven by her faith expressed in great love (Lk); Jesus follows Mary’s example by washing disciples feet (Jn 15:1-17)

The setting in Luke is clearly inverted. The other accounts place this story in Bethany near Jerusalem just days before Jesus’ final Passover[4]. Luke places the story near the Sermon on the Plain (6:20-49) at the beginning of Jesus’ ministry, not at the end. Given Luke’s geographical sequence, this places Jesus in Galilee before he sets “his face toward Jerusalem” (9:51). This is not the time or place for Jesus to be honored as the Messiah, thus Luke is merely establishing Jesus as a prophet among the people, especially the Galileans.

Curiously “Simon” is the host’s name in the three synoptics, but Luke characterizes him as a Pharisee, not a leper[5]. Luke contrasts the piety of Simon with the sinfulness of the woman and sets up the listener for the reversal at the end wherein the woman is justified, but Simon is condemned. Had Luke followed Matthew and Mark in calling Simon a leper, the reversal would not be possible. A leper would have been untouchable, just as a sinful woman would have no place touching a holy prophet[6]. Furthermore, setting Simon as a Pharisee aligns him with all the “righteous” ones who hear Jesus, but ultimately do not receive him or heed him as a true prophet. Jesus’ identity as a prophet is at stake in Luke’s characterization of Simon.

The synoptics concur on particular details of the “alabaster jar of ointment.”[7] I take such agreement to suggest that Luke was consciously adapting the story in Mark and Matthew. Moreover, Luke does not place his version in Bethany at Jesus’ final Passover[8]. The lack of such a “doublet” suggests that Luke is deliberately inverting this story and not simply including a different, though similar story.

Luke clearly inverts the method of anointing in Matthew and Mark. Here not the head, but the feet are anointed[9]. Anointing the head may be seen as a prophetic or priestly act, potentially placing the woman in a high spiritual status. The ambiguity of this act is the basis for the disciples’ reaction against the presumption of the woman. Such ambiguity also gives the story some of the force of a parable. It is subversive to assert that Jesus’ messianic anointing on earth was consecrated by a woman of no particular authority.

Luke would have been sensitive to this telling of the story as a parable, and perhaps this is what gave him license to recast it as a different sort of parable. Indeed, Luke inserts a parable on forgiveness within the story. The act of the “sinful” woman exemplifies her contrition, humble love and ultimately her justification. She anoints his feet, not only with ointment, but with her own tears, touching his feet with her hands, her hair and her lips. The intimacy of her act is also ambiguous. Is this the display of a prostitute seeking to corrupt Jesus? Or does this speak to the sublime intimacy of those who have been received into the kingdom, a spiritual awakening of which the self-righteous know nothing? To dwell on the sinfulness of this woman is to miss the point. Luke’s reference (8:1-3) falling on the heels of the anointing story underscores the point: the women who followed and supported Jesus in his ministry were those “who had been cured of evil spirits and infirmities.”

John’s Gospel (12:3) names her as Mary of Bethany, the devoted disciple of Jesus who anointed his feet. This seems to integrate the spiritual intimacy interpretation of Luke’s account with the high prophetic or priestly act of Matthew and Mark’s versions. The subsequent story in John 15:1-17 of Jesus washing the disciples’ feet carries the same paradox of lowly service and high spiritual status. Perhaps the Johanine community had come to see that there is no distinction, that the two are inextricably bound together.

In Luke’s version, Jesus’ critic is not a disciple, but the host Simon the Pharisee. In the other versions, the disciples are indignant to the woman and criticize the waste or extravagance of her gesture[10]. Simon the Pharisee is indignant of Jesus for allowing a sinful woman to touch him. This brings Jesus’ legitimacy as a prophet into question while casting derision on the woman. Jesus responds to his critical host by engaging him in a parable about one who had been forgiven little and another forgiven much. As when the prophet Nathan confronted David with a parable regarding Bathsheba so Jesus sets Simon up to rule against himself[11]. Simon is the one who had loved little and would be forgiven even less, while the “sinful” woman who had expressed greater hospitality, faithfulness and love is forgiven of all. If, in fact, this woman is already forgiven, then Simon’s criticism is unfounded. Jesus is not being touched by a sinful woman, but is anointed by one who is already present in the kingdom. Simon does not at first perceive this apocalyptic reality.

Luke presents a prophet who brings the high to self-judgment and vindicates the lowly. Luke’s recasting of the story of the woman who anointed Jesus functions as a parable to subvert our expectation of who is holy and who is sinful. The Son of Man who eats and drinks with sinners[12] reveals a moment wherein the untouchable touch, healing and anointing each other.


Please leave a comment or send an email to let me know you have read this far. God bless, James


Notes
[1] C.f. 1Sam 10:1; 16:3
[2] Lk 3:16
[3] Lk 7:36-50, Mt 26:6-13, Mk 14:3-9, Jn 12:1-9
[4] Mt 26:2,6; Mk 14:1,3; Jn 12:1
[5] Lk 7:39-40, Mt 26:2, Mk 14:3
[6] “A strict reading of Lev. 5:1-5 indicates a risk of defilement upon even touching (or being touched by) a sinner.” Commentary on Luke 7.39 in HarperCollins Study Bible, p. 1777.
[7] Mt 26:7, Mk 14:3, Lk 7:37
[8] Only references to Bethany in Luke are 19:29 and 24:50.
[9] Mt 26:7, Mk 14:3, Lk 7:38
[10] Mt 26:8, Mk 14:4, Lk 7:39
[11] 2Sam 12:1-14; Lk 7:40-46
[12] Lk 7:34

The Measure of our Enlightenment

Cleaning up emails in my inbox, I found some old correspondence worth sharing.

In 2003, my friend Martha gave me a link to a very interesting link to the an article titled "Dark Night of Mother Teresa." This was written in advance of Mother Teresa's beatification on Oct. 19, 2003 in Rome.

The article discusses some hidden aspects of the life of Mother Teresa. What was reveled by Mother Teresa's spiritual director, only after her death, was that she had been experiencing spiritual darkness for all the time she was in India. Prior to her mission she was content as a contemplative nun, and she had been receiving visitations by Jesus in visions and other mystical experiences. But all this ended once she committed herself to a mission in Calcutta, as Jesus had asked of her in a vision. She entered, what St. John of the Cross had called, the dark night of the spirit. In this dark night, the soul is bereft of all spiritual consolation, but only experiences a profound sense of emptiness, dryness, even abandonment by God.

I found it compelling that this woman, in whom so many could see the bright light of Christ, experienced only darkness within her own soul, an acute awareness of separation from God. This stark revelation motivated me to write the following email response to Martha.


Martha,

Thanks for the article.

One of my new friends here in Atlanta had worked with Mother Teresa for several years. Just last night Isaac was telling my about how Mother Teresa would give people a slight touch and fill the person with love, peace and joy. Isaac had also been a Brother at Taize for ten years. He told me that Br. Roger has a similar touch. Now Isaac is a refugee from his home country of Bangladesh where he was a human rights activist and publisher. We meet weekly for conversation and prayer, wondering how the Spirit may be leading us.

About Mother Teresa's dark night, I am reminded of the Bhakti Sutra that says that the ultimate degree of Bhakti, a Sanskrit word for the yoga of devotional love, is the cherishing of supreme separation. This comes after the more blissful stages of divine courtship leading to union. After union it is the love that flows out from us (Beloved-and-I) that matters.

By analogy, we can only see the light that comes toward us. The light that flows out from us we cannot see, nor do we need to. Only sometimes, we may see small reflections of that light as it reflects back to us though the eyes of those that Love is loving through us.

The measure of one's enlightenment is not the light that one sees, but the light that others see shining from the One. When Mother Teresa touches us, we are filled with love, joy and peace. This is the light that shines out of darkness, emptiness, abandon.

We should not be concerned when we no longer feel the sweet consolations of the Spirit. If we are doing the will of God, that is enough.

Nice to hear from you again. I hope to visit Durham sometime soon. Let's stay in touch.

In Christ,
James

10/20/2003