PERSEVERANCE, PERHAPS PERSISTENCE, LEADS TO PROPER DISCIPLESHIP

HAPPY REFORMATION DAY 506!!!

Yes, for 506 years the Lutheran Church has been living into what it has become today.

But wait!

There is more reforming to do and with some perseverance, Lutherans will faithfully continue to reform and transform themselves into Christ’s needed presence for the sake of our neighbor today, tomorrow, and well, tomorrow.

 

This focus on tomorrow builds on nothing less than the hope we know in the liberating resurrection of Jesus. Jesus’ act of conquering death, thus opening the way to everlasting life in the presence of God, has freed us all to faithfully serve our neighbor without needing to be concerned about whether God loves us. We have been freed from seeking worthiness in the sight of God to live a life outside of our self-consuming preeminence.

In this week’s text, John 8:31-36, Jesus speaks to a number of Jewish people who have come to believe in him, and he encourages them to persevere in the word, of him. For the sake of English economy, we usually read this passage as saying, “in my Word,” but the literal Greek might have something to offer us on this Reformation Day.

We know that the name of God, that is, Yhwh, the tetragrammaton, is not to be spoken in proper Jewish parlance. Earlier in the book of John, this practice of not saying God’s name is presented as “Logos”, “the Word” when John says, “In the beginning was the Word.” To believe “in the Word” is to believe “in God”. To believe “in Jesus” who is the son of God is to believe “in the Word.”

The use of the Logos, the Word, takes on the stature of Jesus’ more famous “I am” statements, also in John. Jesus says, “I am the bread of life”; “I am the gate”; “I am the good shepherd”; “I am the resurrection and the life”; “I am the way, the truth, and the life.” These statements echo the original “I am” statement from Exodus. There, when Moses asks God to tell him whom he should tell others has sent him, from the burning bush, the voice of God says to tell the Israelites that “I AM” has sent you.

As these “I am” statements point to the divine nature of Jesus, so John points to Jesus’ divinity using “the Word.” “If you persevere/persist/continue/remain in the Word, of me, you are truly my disciples. And you will know the Truth (here truth is also an appositive for Jesus, cf. above), and the Truth will make you free.” (v. 31, my translation)

All of this seems very involved, but, if we are to penetrate Luther’s revelation, then even I, a lowly pontiki ekklesias (church mouse), am compelled to point to the power of what it might mean to persevere “in the Word, of me.” “Persevere” carries a sense of place. The place is “in the Word”. Just as I live in my little mouse house, Jesus encourages us to persevere “in the Word, of me”. “In” seems like such a little word for such a big concept, but once we have believed “in” God, we find that it is preferable to remain “in” that presence.

Rather than being a psychological commitment, persevering “in the Word” demands a lifestyle change. Much like while dieting, one can lose weight in the short run by making a radical shift in one’s eating habits, keeping that weight off requires a new lifestyle that transforms your relationship with food. Likewise, because it is so easy to become one of the profligate prodigals, we are told to “persevere in the Word, of me”, truly becoming “disciples” of Jesus. Discipleship, therefore, causes us to live into a covenant relationship of promise. It is a lifestyle that is life-long.

On this Reformation Day, it is important to pay special attention to this “in” word. It is not only found in the Reformation Gospel passage; we also encounter it whenever saying the creed: I (or we) believe “in God”…; I (or we) believe “in Jesus Christ”…; I (or we) believe “in the Holy Spirit”…. While persevering “in the Word,” we find ourselves believing “in” the encompassing love of God’s presence, “in” the body of Christ, “in” the midst of God’s own creation.

Now we need only recognize where we live; and stay there. There are times when it feels more like running along a tight rope with the vision of what it might look like when we get to the other side, but perilous in the present place. There are also times when that sense of place is like being held in the embrace of family. True discipleship is known “in” that place where it is God’s vision that directs us, where God’s word of hope for all people empowers us, where God’s elbow leads us “in” deeper relationship with God and one another.

Oh, I could go on, but I think that you can figure out why being made free does not depend on being Abraham’s descendants, but on knowing what it means to be a child of God “IN” the Word which speaks us into being today and tomorrow. May you always know the freedom of living “IN”.

Your pal,

Nicodemus, pontiki ekklesias

POTENTATE PAYMENTS PRECIPITATE PARLANCE CONCERNING THEOPHANIC IMPRINTS AND FEALTY PROPRIETIES

or

PRINCE OF PEACE ANTICIPATES ENTRAPMENT WHILE PANHANDLING FOR PENNIES IN TEMPLE COMPOUND

Quoting Old Ben Franklin, “The only things certain in life are death and taxes”. I would like to emend this with the help of church historian Dr. Robert Handy, “What is certain in life is death, taxes, and graffiti,” and then further emend Handy’s observation by adding “coinage”. Whether you engage in procuring the ever-elusive bitcoins or hedge against inflation with the purchase of gold, all of you have your lives shaped by the iconic prospectives of currency. (There are times when it is so nice to be a mouse!) From the days of “Let George do it,” referring to giving a dollar for Pullman porter privileges on the train, to paying for priceless family moments, captured with photographic precision with your Pentax, or maybe just your phone, iconography is a major preoccupation in the world today.

In writing of missives to one another, iconography intrudes. It is difficult to go through a day without seeing an emoji conveying hyperbolic states of attitudes because apparently punctuation is no longer adequate (place emoji here). And can there be a Hallmark moment without some depiction? And don’t get me started on trademarks. (place emoji here)

All of this is to say that we live in a world of images that have the potential of becoming Idolatrous, distracting us from the fact that we are created in the image of God. Before artists started shaping images out of clay, painting images on cave walls and canvases, and revealing the inner-stone image, God shaped us in God’s own image and declared it good.

“Is it lawful to pay taxes or not?” (Matthew 22:15-22) Taxes represent the social contract we have with the governing bodies that lend order to our lives. These taxes may be oppressive. They may support agendas we do not approve. There may be expenditures on projects or people we deem underserving, and there may be graft amid the procedures of procurement, but taxes remain the financial backbone of a social contract we have with one another. Taxes fund many of the social structures on which we depend: municipal governance; school; streets; sewage treatment; maintenance of parks, recreation, and green spaces; water sampling and purification processes; garbage pick-up; building codes; legislation for lifting the rights of all people; our personal, local, state, and national protection. This social contract is good as long as the citizenry complies with the expectations of the governing body.

This, of course, is not addressing the issue that the disciples of the pharisees and Herodians were asking. Is it proper to pay taxes which are above that prescribed in Torah, the law that God has laid down for the governance of God’s own people? Is paying taxes to a government placing that government in the place of God? If one pays the tax to the empire (government), then must one also pay the tax to the temple? Is the tax paid to the temple (i.e., benevolence or mission support) actually giving to God what is God’s, or is it just the administration of Godly work? In the midst of all this giving, is there a difference between giving our lives to God and living a Godly life?

Both and … are posed to Jesus in the courtyard of the temple and are for our consideration today. (See Nickey’s Corner re Matthew 16:13-28. It feels so good to footnote myself.) There were life and death, political implications pending on that 1^st century day, but the question continues to plague us. Somehow, we need to determine under whose rule we will live. In paying taxes do we regard the governing body of our day as being the ultimate purveyor of our political reality or is there a greater justice to strive for?

Borrowing from Paul Tillich, is government or God our “ground of being”? With a more Buddhist lens, “Where do we find our center?” Then, if our “ground of being”, that centered place, reveals a greater justice to strive for, what does that justice look like? How will we go about the work of reaching that more just place? Can that place of justice be attained without a government requiring taxes?

In the world of icons, which icon will we depend on?

Will we depend on the imprint of famous dead people with their various claims?

or

Will we depend on the diverse, living body of God’s own corpus revealed in the places where weeping and gnashing of teeth against oppression and injustice surround us daily?

More importantly in today’s world, will the icon of the flag or of the cross be our “ground of being”, our center?

As a blind mouse, I find most of this dependence on pictures overwhelming. I find the dependence on image to be part of what Rod Michalko claims as “sighted people proving to other sighted people that they are sighted.” It seems to be a strange insecurity of the sighted.

(And what do you think, did Jesus give the denarius back, or did he keep it?)

“Whose picture is it?” You tell me.

(Personally, hearing God’s word for God’s people is much safer than striving to see God. Seeing God is deadly, as deadly as the cross itself, while hearing God’s voice is the foundation of relationship.)

And, just as an aside, as famous as Patrick Henry was, have you ever wondered why he never made it to our currency?

When Patrick Henry said, “Give me liberty or give me death,” was he making a claim for no laws, God’s law alone, no British rule, or a change in the governing body he wished to live under?

Your Pal,

Nicodemus, Pontiki Ekklesias*

 

*Church Mouse

PRINTING OF PARADOX PAPERS PRESENTS PERILOUS PERSPECTIVES OF PARADISE

One of the pleasures of being a church mouse and a partner in pedagogy is that, while Peter (not the disciple) was in the parish, I got to peruse sermon notes of the catechism students. It was always interesting to read their notes. Some were more focused; some you knew the parents had tried to help; and you could tell those who clearly drifted in and out of the worship service. I remember one student who had the same statement at the end of his sermon note every week. The final question to be answered was, “What was the good news you heard today?” His answer was always, “God loves me and forgives me.”

When Peter (not the disciple) had the opportunity to meet with this young man privately (well almost privately, ‘cuz I was over in the corner), Peter asked him, “I’m glad you always know that God loves you and forgives you, but do you really hear that in every sermon I give?” The young man sat silently for a few moments and then said, “I really don’t know what you are talking about most of the time. I just keep writing the same thing every week hoping it’s true.”

This week’s parable in Matthew 22:1-14 is “The kingdom of heaven may be compared to ….” I’ll explain later why it reminds me of the sermon notes of that young man.

So many times, we find that we are not listening properly with our ears. The words, “The kingdom of heaven may be compared to …,” gets heard as, “The kingdom of heaven is equal to ….” We hear something more like a mathematical equation with an understandable solution on the bottom line, or maybe even an allegory (not the critter in the Florida swamps), where everything needs to line up with something else. That is not the way that parables work. Parables, like the present political climate in Israel, are complex and not always easily teased apart.

To begin with, let us understand that Jesus does not use parables to prosecute the Jewish people. He uses them to challenge the authorities of the day and the powers that prevail. This parable, in particular, promulgates a king who is not regarded with respect. Those who are first invited to the marriage feast deem the invitation as being insignificant. When they are reminded, they conspicuously disdain the invitation. Some indicate it is not as important to them as their landholdings or pursuit of business. Others respond with contempt. They replace the priority of cultural hospitality with shameful treatment, beatings, and death. The king responds to this violence with an escalation of violence. He sends his soldiers (army?) to destroy them, burn their city, and declares them unworthy of his protection and concern.

If the first part of the parable is not a prosecution of the Jewish people, then the rest of the parable is not about the gentiles. The command to gather the street people (the bad and good) into the proscenium revealed to us as the banquet hall is nothing more than a show of power and a command performance. The king is uninvolved with these guests until he espies a person without a wedding garment.

This, of course, raises the question of how others received a wedding garment and from whence that wedding garment appeared? 2 Kings 5 offers a potential explanation. In the story of Naaman and Elisha, we learn that presenting garments that have been worn by the king is an honor and a sign of favor from the king. Therefore, when Elisha refuses the king’s garments, Naaman perceives the prophet as being impudent, imprudent, and unresponsive.

For the rest of that story, you can read it for yourself. What we are left with here in Matthew is that either there seem to be many people basking in the favor of the king and one who is not, or that the planned providence of the king has not anticipated the preponderance of people to be provided for.

Into this parable which portrays “honor and shame”, power and punitive puniness, with capricious violence, we are confronted with the possibility of hospitable hospitality, “Friend, let’s get you one of my garments that will honor you and is appropriate.” Or we can hear the words presented here. “Friend how did you get in here like that? Bind him hand and foot, then throw him into the outer darkness where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.”

Indeed, the kingdom of heaven may be compared to power, capricious violence, and judgments of worthiness, but that is not the kingdom of heaven that we, as Christians aspire to. So, where is the hope? Where is the good news? Where is the subversive possibility of promised paradigmatic potentiality?

If we perceive the casting-out-place as being the place of permanent punitive imprisonment without the possibility of parole, then I cannot offer the discovery of good news here. If the casting-out-place is a place of penance, I am also challenged to be able to pronounce good news. But, if that casting-out-place in the outer darkness can place a person in the midst of God’s creation workplace and those weeping and gnashing their teeth is also the place of those who have been cast out, ignored, shunned, displaced, dispersed, dispossessed,  or otherwise purged from polite society, then maybe, just maybe, we can hear the cries of God’s people, share the tears of prejudice, join in the gnashing of teeth in the presence of injustice, and begin the process of building, living into the kingdom place of new creation peace.

“Maimonides, the 12th century Jewish philosopher and astronomer wrote, ‘The whole object of prophets is to declare that a limit is set to human reason where it must halt.’…Human reason, Maimonides is arguing, can only take us so far. Then, at that point, holy irrationality must…take us beyond it. It takes us beyond a profit driven world in which only those who work have the right to eat.’” (The Time is Now, Joan Chittister, 2019) It takes us beyond the parable of the marriage feast through a wormhole in the time fabric of this narrative into the place where the dross of society (those wearing inappropriate apparel) dwell—into the place of holy, irrational, new creation community. This then may be the revealed kingdom of heaven—that place where we know that God loves us and we know God’s grace, God’s new creation, sustains us, just like that catechism student from years ago wrote each week.

Your pal, Nicodemus

Editor, Theologian, Counsellor, Mouse  

PROPERTY SPECULATOR PRESSES PROSECUTION OF PROTESTORS’ COMPLAINT OVER PENDING PROCEDURAL PROCURMENT PAYMENT PRACTICES

Why were the chief priest and the pharisees upset at the end of Matthew 21:33-46 and we are not?

If the Scriptures are the living word of God, then why do we continue to make the Bible a history book?

Is it possible to see ourselves today in this story?

Might we be the workers in the vineyard?

Or might we be the slaves sent to receive the fruit from the vineyard?

So many questions, so little space to explore them.

Peter (not the disciple) and the church council of a declining congregation he once served went on retreat to plan a new evangelism and membership program. Peter returned profoundly moved and reported that one question pivoted the conversation. When the council had been ready to leave, one person in the group had asked, “The work we have done is really good, but when are we going to have time to talk about serving the people God is sending us?”

Peter (not the disciple) has talked about this with me late into many nights, and he still reminds me how everyone put down their bags and another pot of coffee was made. They all pulled out their notepads and together discussed who they thought that God had sent them to serve and what a ministry with those people might look like. That conversation reshaped the ministry of that congregation.

Peter opines often that congregations over-plan who they want to invite to their party considering how to generate greater giving, develop the children’s Sunday School environments and curricula, devise projects for the youth to raise enough money to finance trips for mission projects and the national youth gathering, plan worship, and ensure the piano and organ are in good repair and tuned. He knows these are important, but he regrets how rarely conversations involve, “Who are the people God is sending us and how are we serving them?”

In most congregations we are far too involved in picking, planning, and preparing for how we choose to serve rather than welcoming and responding to whomever God presents to us at our doors.  In vineyards of abundance, we work hard at devising how we are going to disburse the plentitude of God’s provision among ourselves and to those whom we choose while those who do pound on the door are dismissed, discouraged, and deterred. They are hindered and dissuaded.

This week’s parable presents the perfect example. It is part of a long exchange in the temple courtyard. Power within the Jewish community at the beginning of the 1^st century is derived from Roman occupation, fear, and death. In response, Jesus challenges those who presume to wield power (the chief priests, the scribes, the pharisees, and elders). In turn, they ask Jesus by what authority he does the things he does and teaches the teachings he teaches.

As was his way, Jesus uses a parable. He tells them of a vineyard which has been planted and the hedge against predators and the world has been set. The wine press is dug. The watch tower is built. While the owner is away the workers have continued to care for the vineyard. Now the fruit of the vineyard is ready to be shared.

Those listening heard the parable in the context of Roman empire. They judged the merits of this parable in a way that reinforced the empirical political reality of their day. “Put those wretched people to a wretched death” seems appropriate, justified, and fair even when they presume the householder to be God and the vineyard is creation fully ready for occupation. Those who work the land anticipate paying tribute to their lord. We are tempted to hear the parable as the chief priests and the pharisees heard it many years ago substituting sharecropping or paying rent in lieu of tribute.

But how are we to hear and understand this parable today?

Parables give permission to perceive the possibility of a potential world, the world we do not know yet, but could. Parables present the possibility of taking responsibility, making penance, and reparations for past destructive living patterns. But, if people are not able to imagine a world beyond the contextual box they are living in, then portentous potentiality is implausible if not impossible.

As Jesus was speaking to the institutional power brokers of his time, so Jesus continues to speak to the institutional power brokers of our time. So, we need to place ourselves in the context of this parable. Maybe Jesus is speaking to our church leadership: our bishops, our pastors, and our councils, and maybe Jesus is speaking to our local, state, and national governance. Maybe Jesus is speaking of the Vineyard in which we live.

In this parable we hear, in my translation, “When the landowner sent his slaves to receive the fruit of the vineyard, the workers of the land beat, killed, and stoned them. When the landowner sent more slaves, they did the same. When the landowner sent his son, the workers of the land saw a way to keep all the fruits of the vineyard to themselves and so they threw the son of the landowner out of the vineyard and killed him. What will the lord of the vineyard do when he comes?”

This is the place where the opportunity for penance is possible. Instead of perceiving themselves as part and parcel of the problem, recognizing their compulsion for hoarding, piling up the produce of the vineyard and withholding it from the people God presents to receive the fruits of the vineyard, the workers of the land abuse, kill, and shoot those deserving of provident provisioning.

God has been sending many to the hedges of our (congregational) vineyards, and we continue to find ways of “beating, killing, and stoning” those who would partake of our cornucopia. Power wishes to preserve power and is judged by its decision. If you think that the workers of the land deserve to be thrown out of the vineyard, then the vineyard will be taken away from you and given to people who will share the fruits of the vineyard with those God sends.

But if you can imagine that the vineyard is an opportunity to share the providing of God’s profligate planting, then another ending presents itself. “And to the workers of the land in the vineyard, God sent the poor and they were rebuffed as not being industrious enough to share in the bounty of the land. God sent the broken families crying, ‘Black Lives Matter’, and the workers of the vineyard responded with, ‘Blue Lives Matter’ and provided military might to the police forces to silence the protest. God sent the 2SLGBTQIA+ community, and they killed them in their gathering places and legislated laws that took away their rights. God sent people living with disabilities, and they made laws that appeared to recognize their needs but did not include a process to enforce them or prosecute. God sent many more people to the margins of the hedge seeking the bounty of God’s vineyard, and the purveyors of power prevented them from entering the vineyard by imprisoning them, paroling them to lives of penury, and deporting them. God presented the people who had first propagated this paradisical vineyard, and the purveyors of power pranked them and impoverished them and pronounced them less deserving and profligate, undeserving of the vineyard’s providence. And by their judgments they were judged.”

The first hearers of this parable had the opportunity to repent and repair their relationship with God’s people but chose a punitive punishment leading to prompt expulsion. Later in Matthew we will hear Jesus tell Peter (the disciple) that those who live by the sword will also die by the sword. In this parable we are presented with a like presumption.

Instead of punitive posturing wielded by the powerful over the powerless, maybe we should try penance and hear those words of pardon, “And again, after supper, Jesus took the cup, filled with the fruits of the vineyard, gave thanks, and blessed it, saying, ‘This cup is the new covenant in my blood, shed for you and all people for the forgiveness of sins. Share this in remembrance of me.’”

We have not been given the vineyard with rent to pay but an abundance to share. We have the power to change the pronounced judgment. Share the bounty of the vineyard. It’s good news! Thanks be to God!

Your pal, Nicodemus

Editor, Theologian, Counsellor, and Mouse