Showing posts with label justification. Show all posts
Showing posts with label justification. Show all posts

Monday, April 2, 2018

Because the Stone Is Rolled Away CORRECTED

Because the Stone Is Rolled Away 

corrected 3/18

Peter Heide

In wilderness contention, from Jabbok water baptisms, 
Wrest us to your restoration highway, to resurrection gardens of possibility—
For we walk, limp, grope, and crawl
In your likeness, in your imago dei, in your gifts of touch and action.
With loving grace, help us reveal your saving works and goodness,
The joy of justification healing,
And your active incarnate presence
As we claim your living body and find our distinctive wholeness in the midst of this broken world.
So, as Braille is known by the touch of the blind,
Let our lives be known to you, O Lord.
As action speaks meaning to the lives of the deaf,
Let our actions bear witness to your Word, O Christ.
As wheelchairs, walkers, canes, and crutches support us in our lives,
Let our lives support others in your Spirit.

Monday, January 2, 2017

The Peoples' Court, Matthew 25:31-46


To everything there is a season: a time to reflect and a time to dream. As we stand on the threshold of 2017, reflecting on the past year and looking forward to our time together in the future, we are called in today’s readings to pause and consider Christ’s judgment of where we have been and challenged to think about where we are going. We are called to take time to contemplate our place in the world and our place in God’s Kingdom. We are encouraged to take some time to dream about the possibilities of what God’s good creation and goodness means and what a world of mutual care and support might be like.

Here, near the end of Matthew, tucked in between Jesus’s entry into Jerusalem and his arrest, crucifixion and resurrection, is this amazing and disturbing scene of the end time. It is not presented as a parable, “The kingdom of God is like…”; rather, it is set in apocalyptic literary form in the great judgment hall of heaven. Here the son of man comes in glory to sit upon the throne of glory to judge the nations.

In this heavenly courtroom, we are called to look around and notice where we are. We are called to remember the other times we have been here. Noting this space, we remember the other words that have come down to us from this judgment place. We hear the words of Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel, and the other prophets declaring God’s words of judgment, forgiveness, and reconciliation; and we remember that this scene of judgment is not the final statement of Matthew’s Gospel.

So, as a people of the nations, as people of the United States of America, let us sit in the gallery of the heavenly courtroom and witness the judgment of the world. Let us sit in anticipation of our nation’s judgment. Will we be among the sheep or the goats?

I can imagine myself sitting in the gallery, not being surprised to discover that there are no sheep, only goats. And yet, in this heavenly courtroom, Jesus tells us that the picture of the world is not as dismal as it first seems: indeed, the nations wonder how they were chosen as sheep. Indeed, Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty, a stranger or naked, sick or imprisoned?

2016 has been one of those years that will probably have historians scratching their heads for many years to come. Crises throughout the world have raised the specters of fear and hate, death and despair, arrogance and oppression, and, in response to these specters, many nations have turned to isolationism, preferring to pull into themselves like a turtle into its shell, withdrawing from the problems of the world.

Yet, the problems of the world do not go away. More than 4300 people have been shot this past year in Chicago alone. Of them, more than 700 died. There was the shooting massacre at the Pulse nightclub in Orlando, the bombing and the attempted bombings in New York. This is without mentioning those who have died in our area due to violence and drugs.

Many of those who have been entrusted with the duty of protecting and serving us have been captive to racism and power. In the performance of their duties, law enforcement officials have killed more than 950 people; more than 40 of the victims were unarmed, and many were mentally ill. In response, people have shot and killed 64 innocent police personnel without cause. These 64 deaths account for almost half of the 135 police officers who died in the line of duty.

“Then he will sit on the throne of his glory. All the nations will be gathered before him and he will separate the peoples, one from another, as the shepherd separates the sheep from the goats.” Other than the fact that I am blind, is there something wrong with my vision? I am not seeing any sheep! I am only hearing the bleating of goats.

Internationally, we were already reeling from the bombings in Paris, when Brussels was bombed in February. Then there were the truck attacks where more than 80 people were killed in Nice, and most recently, 12 killed and 48 injured in Germany. Let us not forget the tens of thousands of men, women and children who died in Aleppo.

In the meantime, we held an election that included the selection for the highest office in our country. During that process, some of the most vitriolic language was used by our two major parties. Threats of imprisonment and charges that parts of our society are irredeemable were made. Indeed, Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty, a stranger, or naked, sick or imprisoned?

But there are sheep. They are gathered at the son of man’s right hand. He has called them to recognize their blessings and to enter the kingdom that has been prepared for them from the foundations of the world. But where are the sheep coming from?

If this heavenly courtroom scene were the last statement of Matthew, I would have nothing but dreadful words of condemnation for you today. With the disciples, I would throw up my hands and say, “So who can be saved? I know that there was a plan that was good and strong from the foundations of the world, but remember? Humanity screwed that one up years ago. We have proven time and again that we are more interested in ourselves and our personal relationships than we are with you, God, or anyone outside our personal zones of influence. We are a selfish, stiff-necked people. We are interested in our own sense of honor, our own privilege, our own homes and our 401K’s. Okay, we give to what we consider to be good causes, but really Lord, the dead-beat jobless? The sick? The imprisoned? Illegal aliens? The naked? The hungry? And thirsty? Why don’t you just ask us to clean up the air and the water, to give up our scenic vistas so that endangered species will thrive again? What do you mean, it’s not about us?”

And as the Gospel of Matthew continues, we are confronted with a hierarchy that wants to arrest and kill Jesus; disciples who begrudge Christ’s anointing; the Last Supper that leads to Jesus’ arrest, trial, renunciation, crucifixion and death. Jesus will be hungry, thirsty, called a Nazarean stranger, stripped of his clothes, sickened by oppression, and imprisoned. Throughout this time, his closest disciples will betray and desert him. It will be left to just a few—Pilate’s wife, Simon of Cyrene, a centurion and those with him, Joseph of Arimathea, and some women—to be the sheep, the ones who cared enough to recognize Christ for who he is. The rest of the world are goats who deserve to suffer eternal punishment.

But wait! The throne of glory for the son of man is not a royal throne but a cross. The judgment of the world is not based on merit but grace. The verdict is not about who we are but whose we are. The decision of eternity is not based on our lives but the resurrected body of Christ. God’s judgment does not end at the tomb. He goes ahead of us to Galilee; and we are called to follow and find him there to baptize and teach, to gather at Christ’s table to feed and give drink, to welcome all into our midst in Christ’s name, to be clothed in Christ’s righteousness, to support them in sickness and in health, to lift them up from the prisons of those things that attempt to separate us from the love of God, and to walk in Christ’s ways.

To everything there is a season and a time for every purpose under heaven: a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to despair and a time to hope, a time to die and a time to rise from the dead, a time for reconciling peace. I swear it’s not too late. Through Christ’s death and resurrection, I am beginning to see a lot of hopeful sheep. Thanks be to God!

Sunday, December 18, 2016

Time for Loving Matthew 1:18-25


Okay, I have to admit that I have always thought of this passage as being lame. It’s sort of like spending a lot of time on the genealogy that precedes this text. Yes, there are some interesting names and situations that arise from the genealogy, but really not that much. Or is there?

We really don’t give Joseph much time. He is the almost contender. He is the guy that God beat out. He is the guy that I never wanted to be or hoped to be. Maybe that is why Joseph doesn’t get much time. It just may be that Joseph makes us nervous. As a matter of fact, aside from this story in Matthew and the second chapter story of Joseph taking Mary and Jesus to Egypt and then returning after Herod has died, nothing else is said about Joseph in Matthew at all.

Yet the imprint of Joseph continues to influence the story of our faith in interesting ways. Tradition says that Joseph is a carpenter and that he passes the trade of carpentry down to Jesus. In some of the non-biblical stories of Jesus we hear that Joseph and Jesus build a cabinet together, and, when they get it finished, it is too big to go through the door. Jesus shrinks the cabinet enough for it to go through, and then he expands it to its original size so that they can deliver it as ordered. Another time Jesus cuts a board, and it is too short so he lays his hands on it and stretches it to the right length. (There have been a few times in the shop when I’ve wished that I could do that.) No, we don’t get this information from the Gospels, but there is a long tradition that says that Joseph is indeed a carpenter, and, because of that, Jesus is a carpenter too.

So, who is Joseph? From the genealogy given in Matthew we learn that Joseph is the son of Jacob. Really? Wasn’t there another Joseph who was the son of Jacob? Wasn’t Jacob the father of twelve sons who became the leaders of the twelve tribes of Israel? Wasn’t Jacob’s son Joseph the one who was sold into slavery? Wasn’t Joseph the interpreter of dreams? Wasn’t Joseph the one that the Pharaoh went to with the dream of the fat bullocks and the skinny bullocks? Wasn’t Joseph the one who saved his family in the time of famine and gave them a place to live in Egypt? And wasn’t that first Joseph the ancestor of Moses who led God’s people out of slavery into the wilderness and then to the Promised Land?

We may not know much about this Joseph, but there is a great deal that we know about the first Joseph who was the son of Jacob, and Matthew wants us to remember these things when we begin to think about who this Joseph, the father of Jesus, is. Therefore, we are not surprised when the angel comes to him in a dream and tells him he needs to take the mother and the child to Egypt. We are not surprised when they return from Egypt because of a dream. This is the pattern of freedom and learning to walk in faith with God. The difference this time is that we learn what it means to have God walk with us having faith for us.

So today the outcome of so much depends on Joseph’s decision and actions concerning his betrothal to Mary. We are introduced to him with these words: Joseph is “a righteous man”. For many of us, we might easily translate righteous into good and therefore think, “Joseph is a good man.” And, because he is a good man, we might think he will naturally do good things. Joseph is righteous because he follows the law, not just the 10 commandments, but all of the laws found in Leviticus and Deuteronomy including Deuteronomy 22 which prescribes the consequences of being pregnant  while engaged. By law, both the woman who got pregnant by someone other than her betrothed and the other man were to be stoned. If the woman was taken (raped) in the fields, the man was to be stoned, but the woman was to be unpunished. Still that engagement was ended, and the woman was shamed. This is what the righteous man should do. He should end the engagement and walk away. Although he could be generous by doing this quietly, people would probably still talk.

When the angel comes to tell Joseph that the baby is from the Holy Spirit, Joseph is caught in a dilemma. If he walks away from Mary, he will dishonor God, but, if he honors God, staying engaged to Mary, then he states to the community that he is the father of the child, taking the shame of Mary’s pregnancy upon himself. Joseph is confronted with the other side of righteousness. The first definition of righteousness is to follow the law, but the other is to do justice. What is a guy to do?

Joseph’s decision pushes us in a new direction. His decision marks the beginning for those who will follow this child, this Jesus, our Emmanuel. For from this moment on, when law and justice do not walk hand-in-hand, justice will be the part of righteousness that will win out. This decision of Joseph’s marks the beginning of Christian thought that says to act with concern for the other is sometimes more important than personal appearances.

And so, Joseph makes the decision to choose unrighteousness in order to become righteous for the sake of the world. Doing this, he claims Jesus as his son with all of the responsibilities that go along with that decision. As a righteous man, he teaches his son his trade. He passes on his love of his work. In the process of living, he passes on his understanding of the law and the need for justice that goes beyond personal honor, a justice that lifts up the dishonored and the shamed as having value. He passes on his love of God’s people in a way that claims the need of God’s people to live in relationship together is more important than living by the letter of the law. From this decision, learned and appreciated by his son, we will hear, “You have heard it said,…but I say,….”

In the deserted wilderness place, Joseph’s son will feed thousands. In the midst of the world’s suffering, the outcasts (the blind, the lame, the unclean, the deaf and the poor) will be lifted up into new ways of living. From this righteous man, Jesus will learn to care for the needs of those around him even to the extent that he will suffer death, even death on a cross, taking the sins and the shame of the world upon himself, for the justification and justice of the world.

No, we do not know much about Joseph, but, through his ability to interpret dreams, he discerns the way to go. He claims and protects the one who will free us from our slavery to sin, who will lead us through the wilderness of our lives into the relationship of God’s grace and mercy that lifts up all of creation into God’s own kingdom of justice. With his decision, Joseph claims a time for loving judgment rather than punitive vengeance. By his decision, Joseph initiates a time and a season for loving that will only grow through the life, death and resurrection of his adopted son.

Now the birth of Jesus took place in this way, learning of God’s love and sharing it in our time and Advent season of loving.

Saturday, October 22, 2016

There, But for the Grace of God, Go I Luke 18:9-14

Bradley Hanson in his book, Introduction to Christian Doctrine, says that how we think about God shapes and determines what we think about God. In a like manner, I believe that how we think about prayer shapes and determines what we pray. If prayer is to be a public event, then the language of the prayer may be very formal. We hear these prayers in our worship service in the prayer of the day, the offertory prayer, the prayers of the people, and the prayers contained in the Eucharist. These prayers have various functions, but the language is pretty formal and may use metaphors and similes to call forth emotional and psychological energy for worship. If prayer is about speaking justice, then the language may be challenging and abrasive to the ears of those who hear those pleas while evoking God’s empathy and care. If prayer is our personal conversation with God throughout the day, prayer may sound a lot like how we talk to our friends and may contain utterances of thanks, amazement, cries for help, assistance, spiritual strength, and forgiveness.
How we think about prayer even determines the frequency of praying. If prayer is a public thing, then we may not pray more often than once or twice a month, maybe weekly. If prayer is about crying for justice, depending on how satisfied you are with your life, you may only pray once or twice a year. But if prayer is a conversation with God, then you may be praying constantly even with base and common words. A professor I knew once said that within the most profane oath lies a prayer for help. Again I want to say, how we think of prayer shapes and determines what we pray.
If last week’s text was about the need to pray always without losing heart, then this week’s text is teaching us how to think about prayer and what to pray for. Let us first recognize the relationship between these two parables. Last week we heard about the judge that was not just, that is unrighteous, who does not fear God nor respects people. Yet because he thinks highly of himself, he grants justice (righteousness) to the widow who threatens to make him look bad in public.
This week, in another parable told at the same time, Jesus tells us of a Pharisee who has convinced himself that he is justified (righteous) by his own works, and, because of these great works that he has done, he is more important than the people around him. He regards those who are not like him as literally being nothing, of no value, not worth thinking about. Those other people are so far from him socially that he doesn’t even stand with the other person; he stands by himself. He is so self-satisfied that, when he prays, he begins with thanking God that he is not like those other disgusting people.
The first of the list of people that the Pharisee does not want to be like are thieves. The word in Greek is more than stealing, it carries with it the sense of rapacious people or animals like wolves that tear at the flesh that they eat until they are so utterly sated they may vomit their food and leave it in order to eat more; or, more often, after vomiting their food, they will eat it again. They take and consume because they can, not out of need. Thieving at another level includes people who have more than what they need while others do not have enough. Thievery here is not actively taking something from another, but it includes withholding what our neighbor needs when we have plenty.
The second group of people are described as rogues. The word in Greek literally means unjust or unrighteous. Merchants who don’t use accurate weights for weighing or maybe put their thumb on the scale to add a little weight for a little more money are unrighteous. Bankers who charge interest and especially high interest are unrighteous. Anyone who misrepresents themselves or their work or people who do not care for the widow, the orphan, the stranger, and the poor are unrighteous.
The third group are adulterers. Biblically speaking adultery is unfaithfulness to one’s spouse, but, in our relationship with God, adultery can mean putting trust in someone or something other than Godself. As a matter of fact, adultery is much more often cited as being the behavior of Israel consorting with other gods and nations than it is used for the relationship between a man and a woman. In terms of last week’s story, it is not revering or fearing God.
The last and lowest category that the Pharisee is thankful he is not like is the tax collector, the one responsible for money flowing from the masses to those in charge. Now in Jesus’ time, the job of being tax collectors was particularly difficult. They represented the government or the ordering body. When the Roman government decided it needed a certain amount of money to be raised in various parts of the empire, that is, the people were to be taxed, the governing bodies of the various parts of the empire would decide where that money was to come from. Then they got a person to collect the taxes from the designated people, but they did not provide for the salary of the tax collector. If the tax collector only collected what was demanded, he might starve so, of course, he had to collect more than what the empire and governing bodies wanted. By collecting the money from the people and delivering it on time to the people above him, peace was maintained in the empire. But, if the flow of tax money was interrupted, the full weight of the Roman government could come down on any given province.
To make taxes more complicated, the Roman government was not the only entity collecting money. The temple also taxed the people through the tithe, which was a temple tax. The temple too believed in a trickle up-economy. Governors also taxed the people for local building projects and urban improvements. Lastly, the land owners taxed the farmers on their produce from the land. Today we would call it share cropping, but it was a tax none-the-less. The assessed tax could be as high as 80%.
Each of the taxes was based on the gross amount that the people made. By taking 10% here and 10% there, by the time the poorest people paid for their food and clothing, there was often not enough to go around. To not pay the tax was to be jailed and die, but paying the tax also often meant that starvation and even death were nearby. Land and home would be sold first. Even children, your spouse, and your very person might need to be sold into slavery in order to pay the money needed. In the sense of an hour glass, the tax collector was the one responsible for the sand flowing up instead of down. No wonder he was detested.
It is not enough to the Pharisee to be thankful for not being like those other no-accounts though; he needs to state why he is better than those others: he fasts twice a week and he gives 10% of all that he acquires. This then is his case of being righteous.
Biblically speaking, however, righteousness is not an individual state. Righteousness depends on the life of the neighbor. If the Pharisee lives in comfort, but his neighbor lives in poverty, then Biblically he cannot be righteous because his comfort is at the expense of someone else. If the Pharisee is living in comfort, and his neighbors are suffering and in poverty, then Biblically he is stealing from them; he has broken his relationship with them. The Pharisee has chosen to serve himself and has not trusted God for what he needs; he has taken from others for his own sake and not served God and his neighbor—he has become a thief, a rogue, an adulterer, and, yes, a tax collector.
He may be fasting twice a week, but we all know that only the well-fed can fast. The poor and the starving call it, “We have no food.” When it comes to taxes, the wealthy may give 10% of what they receive, but when you receive nothing, paying taxes is not possible because there is no money. You might call it, “being broke”.
As last week the unjust judge cared nothing for God, so now we see that the Pharisee does not trust in God. He trusts in himself. He thinks that prayer is about elevating himself over others rather than lifting up the people around him.
We compare the Pharisee to the lowly tax collector who is far off and cannot even bring himself to look up to heaven praying. His prayer is that God would be merciful or have compassion, that is, would suffer with him in the midst of his life. Jesus says this one was made righteous. What makes him righteous or justified is that the tax collector asks or begs God to be in relationship with him. As the widow begs for a relationship of equity, so now the tax collector prays for a relationship of understanding and love with God.
Although we too long for this relationship of understanding and love, not only with God, but with one another, there are times in our lives when we run to the place of the Pharisee. How often have I heard, even said, “There, but by the grace of God, go I!” In saying these words, we separate ourselves from the event even while recognizing that we might have been there or done that ourselves, but, thank God, our actions did not result in calamity—we were not caught. “There, but by the grace of God, go I!” does not mean we are somehow better by our actions, but we believe that a better outcome resulted because God favored us more. Now we look more and more like the Pharisee.
Poverty is not that far away for the average American family which is only two paychecks from not being able to pay the bills. In worship we pray, “We offer with joy and thanksgiving what you have first given us--ourselves, our time, and our possessions, signs of your gracious love.” But when we leave worship, we may separate ourselves from the people who can’t pay their bills anymore, saying, “There, but by the grace of God, go I.” We like to think that God has favored us because of our hard work. We think that we are responsible for creating the world around us as if God’s creative work stopped on the sixth day of creation. In so many ways, we, as a society, say “We’ve got ours, the heck with the rest of you—you who can’t find jobs that pay a living wage, you who are starving in war-torn countries; you whose homes have been taken away by cartels and people who only think about their own wealth and power.
We thank God for our own lives of privilege and wonder at the chances that might lead to us living in those conditions of disaster in Haiti and say, “There, but by the grace of God, go I.” How much harder our prayer lives might be if we, with the tax collector, said, “Have mercy on us sinners, Lord, for we have so much and there are so many that have so little. Help us to share the abundance of your creation. Help us lift up the lowly, and let us be humbled in your presence and the needs of all that you have created good.”
How we think of prayer really does determine and shape what we pray. Being in relationship with God and one another, we pray that all may know God’s presence and that all people will have respect, re-spect, that is, be seen again. We pray that we may engage and honor the people that God has given us to welcome in God’s kingdom on earth, anticipating God’s rule as it is in heaven, with daily bread for all and forgiveness of sins. In this state of God’s abundance and forgiveness, we then are able to forgive as we have been forgiven and are saved from the trial that would judge our works alone. Lord. save us from ourselves, and, in your loving arms, deliver us from evil. Indeed, your kingdom, your power to save, and your glorious resurrection are what will last forever.
It is in this relationship of forgiveness that we know relationship with God and one another that continues to sustain us, and so we rejoice in those words of help and hope:
“In the mercy of almighty God, Jesus Christ was given to die for us, and for Christ’s sake, God forgives us all of our sins. Therefore, by Christ’s authority, I declare to you the entire forgiveness of all of your sins; in the relationship of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.”
There, in the grace of God, we go.

Thursday, September 29, 2016

Her Name Was Saphronie

But she was always Miss Peterson to me. She wasn’t quite five feet tall. She had been blind all of her life. She started teaching the week after she graduated from high school and then worked her way through college during summer school. In 1962 she was my fourth grade teacher, and, later in life, she became a model of faith for me. At eighty-four, she had cancer and needed a ride to the treatment center. I had gotten my sight back by that time and could drive, so I drove Miss Peterson to her appointments for several weeks.

Following each treatment, I took her to a Bible study where her friend, a professor at the university, was part of a study on the book of Psalms. It was part of an ongoing Bible study where professors could come and speak about their faith with students at the Lutheran Campus Center. It was fairly academic, so I mostly took notes and kept my mouth shut. This Bible study was my first real introduction to scholastic disciplines that could be used as helpful tools for interpreting God’s living word. The conversation was miles above me, and yes, I was a little intimidated by my professors talking about their faith and admitting to wrestling with faith issues.

Now you have to understand that, although I had great respect for Miss Peterson as a teacher, her years of service, the years of activism and commitment to advancing living conditions for blind people around the state, and, although I knew that she was involved in the life of her church in Janesville, I thought of Miss Peterson as an aging elementary school teacher who had been retired for many years and not current in modern biblical study.

Since I was a student and she was a guest, I was unprepared for her standing up during one of the studies to raise questions and challenge some of the ideas of these university professors. What shocked me more was that she quoted extended passages from the Psalms from memory, apologizing for only knowing the King James Version of the Bible when we were using the New Revised Standard version. She revealed she had memorized all 150 Psalms when she was young and not taken the time to memorize the newer versions, and so she hoped they would forgive her antiquated language.

Yes, I was amazed. Her questions were appropriate, insightful, and poignant. This was my fourth grade teacher. She was holding her own with these university professors, and I was proud to claim her as my friend and mentor.

Following the study that day, one of the women came and talked with Saphronie. She said, “You are such an inspiration to all of us. I can’t believe that you have memorized all 150 Psalms.”

Saphronie replied, I’m blind, I’m not retarded.”

Taken aback, the woman continued, “I know that you have cancer and are taking treatment, so I wanted to tell you that, as talented and gifted as you are, I know that, when you get to heaven, you will be completely healed and able to see just like the rest of us.”

I had smiled at Miss Peterson’s first response, but I was totally unprepared for her next statement, “If God won’t take me the way I am, then I don’t want to go.”

What Saphronie Peterson understood and believed more concretely than most of the seminary professors I have studied with since is that, if we have to change in order to be acceptable to God, then our challenging lives and the struggles we encounter have no meaning because what makes us who we are is the sum of our life experiences. If we need to change ourselves or be changed in order to be acceptable in God’s eternal kingdom, then we are no longer who we are and the goodness of our creation is discounted.

Is there anyone who believes that a black person needs to become white in order be part of God’s eternal kingdom? Do we think that everyone will have red hair? Do we have to leave our race, our sexuality, our nationalities, or our knowledge here and have all of that changed in order to be acceptable to God? Do we really believe that we are created in God’s image? That means all of us, and that we are good. Or do we think that only some of us are truly God’s creation? Can we say with confidence that our wholeness comes from Christ and not from ourselves?

If we are all created in the image of God and our wholeness comes from Christ, then is it possible that God’s being is so far beyond our understanding that not only is God’s image able to be understood as male and female, but that God’s image can also be known as black and brown and red and white and yellow, gay and straight, and able-bodied and disabled, and smart and cognitively challenged? Is it possible that since the one who is raised up from the dead; the one who appears to us with the marks of the crown of thorns, lash marks, and holes in his hands, feet and side; the one who shows that what was once death producing is now death defying is the one who appears before the disciples without change, that we might also retain our worldly marks in the death defying life of God’s eternal kingdom? Might it be that the great change in 1 Cor. 15: 51-58 is only about the perishable putting on imperishability and the mortal putting on immortality so that death might be terminally defeated in a way that does not disparage or discount the lives that we live but, instead, lifts up our lives as having great value in shaping who and whose we are? Can we know the breadth and depth of God’s love and forgiveness if we cannot come before him as we are? And if we need to change, can God even be God? Does not knowing who and whose we are enable us with Paul to say, “O death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting?”

I am reassured by the thief on the cross in Luke’s Gospel.  “But the other [criminal] rebuked [the first] saying, ‘Do you not fear God since you are under the same sentence of condemnation? And we indeed have been condemned justly for we are getting what we deserve for our deeds, but this man has done nothing wrong.’ Then he said, ‘Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.’ [Jesus] replied, ‘Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise.’” (Luke 23: 40-43, NRSV)

Jesus does not tell the criminal that he must first repent of all of his ways. The criminal need not repay what he has stolen nor repent of the lives he has taken. Jesus does not tell the criminal that he needs to change, but only to know him and to lead his life from this time onward bearing witness to who Christ is. The only person in Scripture to be assured of paradise is accepted as he is.

So, with Miss Peterson, small in stature, blind in life and faith, holding onto: the rock of our salvation, our present help in time of trouble, the one slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love, the good shepherd, the mother hen who longs to gather us under her wings, I stand by her side. If God won’t take me the way I am, then I don’t want to go either.

Thank God for God’s grace revealed to us in the person of Jesus the Christ who redeems us and forgives us even when we don’t know what we’re doing. Let us stand firm in our faith, secure in the wholeness of Christ’s incarnational body, without sight but with a vision of God’s kingdom that includes us all. Yes, let us go in Christ’s shalom wholeness and peace, loving and serving God!