Day 35: Monday of Holy Week—Not our ways but Yours

Psalm 36:5-11; Hebrews 9:11-15; John 12:1-11

It’s been more than a hundred years that America has been driving. Henry Ford gave us the modern assembly line that has made the car affordable for the common person.

Improvements in the design of the car we drive today have come from various inventive people of the many manufacturers creating the safest vehicles we can have. Each improvement has been made for saving lives and making life more convenient ushering in new visions of life together and a perfected kingdom of plenty.

Yet, today we are reminded that true perfection does not and cannot come from human hands but from Christ’s perfect work for us. There is no amount of green technology that can save us. Green technology may save our planet, but our relationship with God is only perfected through Christ’s willingness to stand for us in life and death, offering forgiveness and new ways of walking together in God’s way. Only in the life, death, and resurrection of Christ is there hope of true relationships of peace and equality.

On this second day of Holy Week, we pause to remember God’s many great works for us and give thanks for Christ’s forgiving willingness to make us right with God.

Prayer

Lord, thank you for your forgiving hands that continue to work perfection in us. Amen

SignPost Monday of Holy Week—In the Big Horns

Psalm 36:5-11

During August of 1978, Daryl and I went backpacking in the Big Horn Mountains of Wyoming. We took a leisurely drive in his Toyota pickup, stopping in Hardin, Montana, where we visited Little Big Horn and walked the site of Custer’s Last Stand. We saw where the Native Americans camped, and stood where Custer was supposed to have died. We listened to the Native American version of the battle, and we walked through the cemetery where the 7^th Cavalry soldiers are buried.

Later, we drove down through part of the reservation lands witnessing the impoverished circumstances of families living in small homes and trailers along the road. We drove past Sheridan and on to Buffalo. In Buffalo we stopped for breakfast and then headed up to the ranger station to post our route and intended time of return.

Up into the mountains Daryl and I and his Elkhound Cy walked with our packs. About three miles in, we stopped for our first camp. We pitched our tent on the shore of a mountain lake and went swimming before supper. Almost hypothermic from the water temperature, we sat around a fire to warm, ate our supper and watched the sunset. In the mountains that only takes a few minutes, but as the light dwindled and the color faded, an eagle flew between us and the light. In silhouette we watched it fly to it’s roost.

Daryl said, “Now there’s a picture only God could make. You couldn’t paint that, and if you waited with a movie camera for another twenty years it wouldn’t happen. We’ve got ten miles to walk tomorrow, so we better get to bed.” As the stars started to light up the sky, we covered the fire and crawled into the tent and our sleeping bags.

Prayer

Lord, even at the end of our day you surprise us with wonders that appear for a moment and are preserved only in memory. Remember us in your kingdom. Amen

Sermon for Palm/Passion Sunday—Holy Highway

Do you remember the days when we had to read maps and memorized the layout of our cities? In some parts of rural America roads didn’t have names, and one had to know the landscape and the landmarks in order to know who lived where. Today with GPS, we input the address or fire number and off we go. The little woman or man in the box tells us when to turn and how long it is going to take to get there. It is more difficult to get lost, but it can be done. Yet some of the joy is gone from driving—some of the risk and adventure is absent. (I am not saying that this is necessarily bad, but that things have changed.)

On a trip to Nebraska twenty years ago, I made a wrong turn. Ahead there was a road that was black topped and so I reasoned it must go somewhere, and maybe I could save myself twenty miles of driving if I just turned south and connected with the highway I needed.

As I drove down the road I noticed a vehicle in front of me moving slowly. I started to slow down too—not fast enough. I was following a fertilizer spreader that was overly full and overflowing some as it hit the bumps in the road. I was going to pass, but the road was getting narrower and then we hit gravel. A quarter mile down the road, the gravel ran out and we were on dirt. The spreader turned off. I kept heading south. Off in the distance, I could see the highway I needed to be on. I started to feel pretty proud of myself. My truck didn’t smell so good, but I could live with that, I had saved myself twenty miles of driving and a gallon of gasoline.

Then I noticed the pile of dirt in the middle of the road. I slammed on the brakes and slid a little sideways in the road. I stopped just short of a ditch, four feet deep and five or six feet wide right in the middle of the road. The pile of dirt was on the other side of the ditch. I heaved a sigh of relief because I hadn’t gone into the ditch. I stood there and looked at the ditch for awhile. Then I backed the truck up a quarter of a mile because there wasn’t room to turn around and found my way back to the place I had started.

Where were the signs I had missed along the way? I fumed about the poor signage along the road. When I got back to the intersection where I had missed the turn in the first place I saw this huge sign: several 4x8 sheets of plywood, painted white with foot high letters announced the turn. I must not have been paying attention. I was preoccupied by the scenery, or my thoughts, or something else. Whatever it had been, I was not paying attention to the road. The sign said, “Last road connecting with highway 2 for 30 miles. Culvert construction on most roads.”

I found my way to my friend’s house, but I was an hour or so late. Later we looked at my manure decorated truck and laughed. “Well,” my friend said, “You look like you fit right in. Now you just need a little more mud and people will think you live here.”

SignPost Passion Sunday—The Traffic Jam

Psalm 31:9-16

A friend of mine was going to seminary in Chicago. He had invited us to visit several times. Finally, Spring Break was coming, and we had some time. We stopped at Mom’s to help out with some chores that were too heavy for her. We had dawdled over coffee before leaving.

As we headed down I-94, we discussed which way to go. Going through Chicago was shorter, but it could get really congested. Better to take the I-294 bypass; there were more tolls, but traffic should be faster.

Off we went dropping our forty cents in the toll booths every ten miles or so. We talked about seminary and some of the pros and cons of living in Chicago. Then it happened. Two trucks pulled alongside one another and started slowing down. We started moving slower and slower until we were stopped. We were in a part of the city that we did not know. The maps in the car did not show us any easy ways to get to the seminary from where we were. We were between exits anyway so for the next hour and a half we sat there, in grid lock.

Occasionally traffic moved slightly, and somebody jumped into the hole that was created. Cars were halfway into a new lane, but not fully out of the lane they had been in. Horns honked. People stuck their heads out of windows to let others know what they thought. It was chaos.

The car ahead of us ran out of gas, and people got out of neighboring cars to help push him off to the shoulder. This was before cell phones, so we just sat there. Occasionally a car would run down the shoulder to try for the next exit, but as we started creeping along, we saw them stuck by break-downs and bridges. Eventually we passed some ambulances and a fire truck. 

“And you think it would be fun to live here?” I asked.

Sue said, “If we lived here, we would be taking the train or the bus. We wouldn’t be stuck out here. We would be living there already.”

Who could argue with logic?

Finally, we were free to travel again. Amid the craziness, our car was undamaged. We were safe, and life was grudgingly satisfactory. We finally got to the seminary. It was good to see our friend. We went to a nearby coffee shop and then out to supper. Our visit was short, but it was good.

Prayer

Lord, when all about us is chaos and frustration, may we know your peace and certainty of deliverance. Amen

Day 34: Saturday, Week 7—Happy Anniversary

Jeremiah 33:10-16; Psalm 118:1-2, 19-29; Mark 10:32-52

Before I head out for an extended road trip, I check out the car: tire inflation, oil, and the lights. Before we left on Friday for the 25^th anniversary of a friend’s ordination everything was in good shape. As we pulled out, I grabbed the mail. The renewal tag for our auto registration was there, but, already leaving later than we had hoped, I tossed the mail in the back.

A little after midnight in Nebraska, my wife commented on how dark it was. Shortly afterwards she noticed a police car. Soon the police car was right behind us. Then the flashing lights appeared.

We were asked if we knew that our registration had expired. We explained it was renewed and started digging in the back for the mail.

The deputy checked the computer. Yes, we had paid and the tag had been mailed. Finally we were released with a warning for a headlight that was out.

Sunday, after worship and reception, we began the trip home. In Missouri, we were pulled over again. Did we know that we had a burned out headlight and that our license tag was expired?

We explained that yes, we knew (producing our warning ticket from Nebraska), and we had the tag in the back, but we had not replaced the lamp or put on the tag. With a friendly acknowledgment of the difficulties in finding a replacement lamp on the weekend in rural areas, we were allowed to continue with the advice of using our high beams whenever appropriate. We were also encouraged to find the tag in the morning.

An hour later, in Iowa, we were stopped again. Finally I asked, “Why the hyper vigilance? Certainly they weren’t stopping every car they saw with one light burned out and slightly expired plates.

The deputy told us that a dark colored Pontiac Vibe had been used in a bank robbery. All patrols in the Midwest had been notified. In the morning, we found the tag and replaced the lamp. Made right with the law, we went happily on our way home.

As we prepare ourselves for the observance of Passion Sunday and Holy Week, we ask with Bartimaeus for vision in the darkness. With Christ’s touch we clearly see the way to the cross and follow on the way.

Prayer

Lord, in our darkness, we are tempted to think of our burdens as our crosses to carry. Help us to look outside of ourselves, to take up your cross, and with your vision, follow on your way. Amen

Day 33: Friday, Week 6—Bobby 2

Jeremiah 33:1-9; Psalm 118:1-2, 19-29; Philippians 2:12-18

My wife sees God’s work in our daily lives differently than I do. When I needed a new truck (see Day 11), she said, “Look in the classifieds. If you’re supposed to have a truck, one will be waiting for you.”

I was skeptical, but I obediently looked in the paper. Yes, I found a truck that met most of my requirements in the third ad.

I went to see it. Everything I inspected seemed good. Turning the key, I heard no roughness. Why would anyone want to sell a fine machine like this?

Then on the test drive, as I pulled onto the highway and stepped down on the gas, a horrible banging started. I asked what had happened.

“Well,” the woman said, “when my son pulled the neighbor’s sailboat out of the lake, he got the back under the water a little.” It turned out that when he put the clutch in, the twenty-four foot boat started to pull the truck into the lake. Panicked, he had floored the gas, snapped the clutch in first gear, and sort of blown the engine. It still drove, but there was no power left.

I drove home thinking that my wife was wrong. Soon the woman with the truck called to ask, “Would you consider offering something less than we are asking?”

I talked to a friend. He said, “The only thing that is worth anything on your old truck is the engine. It sounds like the only thing bad on the other truck is the engine. They’re both Chevys so we should be able to pull the old engine and drop it into the new truck. Offer $500 less. Maybe you’ll have a new truck this weekend.”

The following Monday, I drove a fully restored truck to the DMV to transfer the license plates. The signs of rust and neglect were gone, but the heart of the truck remained the same.

Prayer

Lord, we are afraid to depend on your providing and surprised when you do. Give us courage to bear witness to your activity in our lives, to see your healing hand at work in all that we do. Amen

Day 32: Thursday, Week 6—Defensive Driving

Deuteronomy 16:1-8; Psalm 118:1-2, 19-29; Philippians 2:1-11      

If there were a passage from Scripture that belongs in the Driver’s Manual, this might be it. Many of us are aggressive drivers. Behind the steering wheels of our cars, we sometimes regard others on the road as being less important than ourselves.

I am amazed at the number of news reports about road rage. I am also irritated by those who honk horns at stop lights. Somehow, enclosed in our private space with our personal music playing, favorite news channel on, or just with our own thoughts, we sometimes think that it’s all about us.

I am reminded of the cartoon from years ago. Dad is driving the car, Mom is sitting in “her seat” and the kids are in the back seat. One of the children says, “Daddy, why aren’t there idiots on the road when Mommy drives?”

Whether we are on the road, behind the wheel, or simply on the way, Christ leads. Driving means that we need to put the concerns of others ahead of ourselves.

A driver license is a privilege not a right, and it assumes a responsibility for the safety of others. Being aware of other people’s weaknesses and concern for their well-being is the very foundation of defensive driving.

This awareness for others models excellence in driving and living. We are not lords of the highway, we are traveling companions.

Prayer

Lord, your life among us continues to be an example for us of our relationships with one another and with God. Help us to be models of your humility for others. Amen

SignPost Thursday to Palm Sunday—Mom’s Song

Psalm 118:1-2, 19-29

My mom loved to travel. Each summer we took several short trips and one extended trip. We might be home only long enough to pay bills, check in on family members, do the wash and then get packed again. In the summer of 1968, we were home for sixteen days between the end of school in June and the beginning of school in September.

Mom figured that by camping, the only cost was the price of the campsite and the cost of gasoline (not $2/gal. then!); otherwise, our food cost the same. So, over the years, we drank the free water at Wall Drug, hiked the Black Hills, and swam in Sylvan Lake. We went to the Tetons, Yellowstone, Zion, Bryce Canyon, Yosemite and Sequoia National Parks. We went to Jackson Hole and the Garden of the Gods, Williamsburg and the New York World’s Fair. We went to the Ozarks, and we got threatened by the police in Alabama for eating lunch in the “colored” park. We went to the Seminole villages of Florida and saw the alligator wrestlers. We climbed all over the Constitution in Boston harbor, swam in all of the Finger Lakes, walked the battlefields of Gettysburg, Yorktown, Shiloh, and heard of the battles of more forts than I ever dreamed of. We saw Rainbow Falls, Niagara Falls, Copper Falls and Chippewa Falls.

There were good times and some not-so-good times along the way. But because Mom thought that we should be at home wherever we happened to be, certain constants traveled with us:

(1) Call Grandma every Saturday night.

(2) Go to church on Sunday morning. If we were traveling, we checked out towns along the way for worship times and then looked for a parking place. We worshipped in Lutheran churches of all kinds, Methodist, Baptist, and Presbyterian. Several times we even worshipped with Roman Catholics.

(3) Have devotions of some sort each day, even if it was only stopping to wonder at God’s creation for a few minutes.

(4) Say grace before every meal, even cold cereal in the rain.

(5) Start each day singing, “This is the day that the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad in it.” Mom said it gave us good weather to travel in and helped us return home in safety. It was her credo.

I won’t speak for my sister, but there were times when I thought Mom was nuts. But, today, when I travel, I find myself repeating the same habits. In these rituals, I discover her wisdom. We can be home wherever we are if we remain centered in who and whose we are.

Prayer

Lord, as we travel in this world you’ve created, help us be mindful of your works and attentive to your people. May we always knowing your leading on our way. Amen

Sermon for Wednesday of Week 5—Running in Circles

Haggai 2:1-9, 20-23; Psalm 119:9-16; John 12:34-50

Do you ever have those days when you feel like you’re running in circles and going nowhere? Today’s text might make you feel that way.

One of the first things that one learns when walking in the woods is that one of our legs is longer than the other. If one walks for any distance without a focused destination, one will walk in a circle. That’s where the saying comes from. It is a statement of truth expanded to describe fearful, frantic, unfocussed living. Many people who have gotten lost in the snow have discovered foot prints that they think will lead them to safety only to learn that they are following their own foot prints from the last time they passed that point.

We heard much of today’s gospel text a few weeks ago. This time it is in expanded form. It is greater than it was the first time. Now we are given more information. So, we come to this text again, having made a circle. If you are thinking that you are experiencing a moment of déjà vu, don’t panic. Yes, we have been here before. But we are not just retracing our own foot steps. This time, we are shown the way out of traveling in circles.

This time, we are called to walk in the light that leads to the cross and home. We are called to remember that it is not the person of Jesus alone that we follow, it is God’s word revealed to us in the person of Jesus the Christ who speaks to us. It is not his ministry alone, but those prophetic statements relating God’s intent that the world should be saved. It is the reminder that God is willing and able to lead us from the slavery of self into the world of relationship with God and all of God’s people. With this point of reference, we, ourselves, in the body of Christ, can become sign posts for others and beacons of hope.

Indeed, there is much to witness and bear witness to. As we prepare for the week of passion, with the great entry into the city and the political maneuverings that will condemn Jesus to a shameful death on the cross, we see that the Son of Man will be lifted up on the cross in order for the Messiah to be with us forever. There will be a painful death, but that death will lead to the conquering of death once for all.

If we think of Lent as a time of personal sacrifice for self improvement, then Lent can be a time of running in circles. If, however, we keep our focus on our destination—the cross and the empty tomb—then our way is made clear.

There is an old Jewish blessing. “May you be covered with the dust of your rabbi’s feet.” This blessing does not just speak about relationship, it speaks of closeness and proximity. We see Christ’s presence around us and follow. Maybe close enough to be covered with the dust of his feet. Maybe close enough to need the foot washing of Maundy Thursday. Maybe close enough to discover that, with Peter, our lives do not always recognize Christ. Maybe close enough to discover that, with the disciples, we want to flee from the brutality and pain of the cross. And, maybe, just maybe, we will be close enough to understand that we need to hear those words of forgiveness that come from the cross in order to find the way out of the storm and into the place of resurrection living; then we can discover that Christ is going ahead of us into Galilee, to lead and to cover us again with the dust of his feet.

It may be difficult to change our ways, but God’s hope and intent for us continues to be a welcoming invitation of grace through faith in Christ alone. Our Lenten journey’s end is near; and it leads to an even more wonderful journey ahead: a journey of traveling in our savior’s way, into Galilee, into the brokenness of the world to know healing and wholeness in Christ. It is not fearful or frantic; it is not unfocussed running in circles; it is intentional, disciplined walking where Jesus continues to lead us home.

So, now is the time to lift our eyes from our self-centered, circling footsteps and to look to the path of the one who has come not to judge the world but to save it. Now is the time to hear the words that God’s commandment is everlasting life. Now is the time to keep our eyes on the prize of salvation that is accomplished for us.

Day 31: Wednesday, Week 6—THE Car

Haggai 2:1-23; Psalm 119:9-16; John 12:34-50

A friend thought that the 1960 Chevy Impala Super Sport was the finest looking car of its time. The problem was that he couldn’t afford the car, even used. On weekend nights, we would go to a nearby, busy intersection to watch for accidents involving THE car. If there were, he would volunteer to tow it to his yard for the insurance adjuster to examine.

After the adjuster declared a number of them total wrecks and the owners signed over the pink slips, my friend started to work. By taking parts from them all, and straightening the one frame, he eventually had his dream car. It is one of those cars that I worked on, rode in, even drove several times, but, being blind, never saw, that although I’m sure by now it has succumbed to the great auto equalizer—rust—and has joined many others in the scrap pile, still it lives in my mind as a marvel of making a dream come true.

With its new metal flake blue paint job, it was something to behold, at least I think of it that way. It was a wonderful act of restoration, but still, there was no way to ignore the fact, it had been in an accident. No matter how many good parts went into it, and there were many, that one fact remained. It would never be fully righteous.

Today we read about God’s restoration work with the people of Israel. It is a wonder to behold. Indeed the temple will be rebuilt; it will be better than before, but the relationship with God will not ignore the times gone by, nor will the people continue to be in a righteous relationship with God. The temple will fall, but God’s restoration work will not stop. God’s work of restoration will extend to God walking among us, dying for us, and rising from the dead for our sake.

Today that work continues. We continue to make wrecks out of our lives, but God continues the bodywork of righteousness. Through Christ’s justifying work we are able to go down the road of life made new in the body of Christ.

Prayer

Lord, thank you for your continued work of restoration. Justified in you, may we work for peace and justice in your name. Amen

Day 30: Tuesday, Week 6—World Vision

Isaiah 44:1-8; Psalm 119:9-16; Acts 2:14-24

At the end of the movie, How the West Was Won, cars drive on super-highways around clover leafs toward a distant city. The movie, an entertaining story of manifest destiny, greed, chaos and order, romanticized the development of the West and projected a vision of utopian living.

The past was laid aside, and the vision of the future was laid out like an advertisement for the West as the land of opportunity. It was a vision dreamed by humankind and exploited by humankind.

In today’s reading, we hear of men and women prophesying, dreaming and visioning. To be a prophet in the Hebrew sense did not so much mean that one predicted the future as much as it meant that you became a vehicle for speaking God’s word for God’s people in a way that judged the behaviors of the world, lifted up the oppressed, and spoke of God’s plan for God’s future kingdom.

In the midst of Lent, as we begin to think about Christ’s suffering (passion), death, and resurrection, we are reminded of the Pentecost story. It does not romanticize the past; it recognizes humanity’s part in that past. It then points to God’s resurrection world of forgiveness possibility, justified (made right with God) through Christ who is not limited by the world but powerful enough to overcome death for us.

This vision empowers us to address the issues of the world, expecting and accepting failures but knowing that God, active with us and through us in the work of the Holy Spirit, continues to build relationships of hope and peace.

In the waters of baptism, God’s spirit is poured out upon us; we are marked with the cross of Christ and sealed by the Holy Spirit. With that outpouring of love we are empowered to be speakers of God’s vision and dream—prophets. What are God’s words that we will speak?

Prayer

Lord, we thank you for words: words of prayer, words of forgiveness, words of reconciling peace; but, most of all, we thank you for your Word, Jesus Christ. Give us courage to stand like Peter to speak your words for all the world to hear. Amen

Out with the Old, Ready for the New John 2:13-22

If I were to ask you how Jesus was feeling on the day he cleansed the temple, what would you say? Would your answer be, “Jesus was angry.”?

On Monday, as I started working on this text, I thought about what it might mean for us today; I read several commentaries. Some challenged me to think about Jesus, not as angry, but as intensely invested in the worship and praise of God. Why?

If we look in the book of Deuteronomy, ch. 14, it is written, and here I paraphrase, that if you are going to worship in the place where the Lord’s name has been designated (in later times, that would be the temple), and you live a long ways away, don’t bring your sacrificial animals with you. Instead, sell these animals at home, take the money you have received, go to the place of designation (temple) and buy what you need—meat, wine, and strong drink. Then you will eat it in God’s presence and with your family.

Knowing this passage from Deuteronomy, one has to ask, after reading about Jesus cleansing the temple, “Why is Jesus angry?” After all, isn’t that what the law encourages you should do, buy what you need for celebrating Passover when you get there? What better place to do your one-stop shopping than right there in the temple courtyard?

As I worked to prepare for this sermon, after more conversation and thought, this is what I came up with.

Chapter 14 of Deuteronomy continues to give further consideration to the priesthood, the widows, the orphans, and the stranger. In other words, when you eat, you will share what you give to God with all of those who are around you.

The Deuteronomy text deals with justice— social justice for the community, and humane treatment for the animals. Certainly, one is to bring the best that one has to give to the Lord, and the best cannot be the best if the animal has been driven for days, even months on the road. Therefore, share the abundance of what you have with the people where you live.

Then taking the money received from the sale of your abundance, go to the place of designation, Jerusalem, and buy what you need. In this way, your home community benefits from the good quality of your animals and goods while the economy of the place where you are going benefits too. Beyond the benefits to the communities, the traveler’s burden is lightened, and the journey can be much faster. It is a win-win-win situation.

So, again I ask, when Jesus enters the temple courtyard, why does he get upset?

For Passover, we know that the meal will need a lamb or goat, wine, and yes, strong drink. This is the big blowout celebration of Jewish life. There are other big occasions, but Passover is the event that puts the Hebrew people in relationship with God. In fact, the Passover event is the central event of Judaism. The Passover event and the years in the wilderness are for Jewish people what Easter, Baptism, and Communion are for Christians. Without Passover, Judaism would not exist.

Some think Jesus is concerned that the local farmers have been taken out of the equation by the temple selling the animals. Instead of distributing the abundance of God’s creation among all of God’s people, the temple has become the primary beneficiary of what the people bring. The temple has gotten into the business of making money instead of being the source of expressing God’s work of presence and justice. The problem is that, during the Passover season, when worship and celebration of God’s activity among God’s people and in the world, the temple courtyard has become for them the Wisconsin Dells without any water parks.

Others suggest Jesus is concerned over the money itself. The coins of the world had images of rulers and animals stamped on them. They came from Rome, Egypt, Persia, Syria and more. All of these places would have used Roman imperial coins, but they had their own money as well. These coins as well as the Roman coins had images of people or animals on them. They were therefore considered idolatrous.

Because the people were very careful to remember the first commandment, You shall have no other God, in the holy place of the temple, the “idolatrous” money they brought with them could not be used. Within the temple confines, they only used temple money with abstract scrolling, maybe wheat or other botanical, maybe nothing at all, but no images of people or animals.

The money used on the road had to be exchanged for these temple coins which were then used in the temple marketplace to buy the animals for sacrifice and to pay the tithe, the temple tax. Here again, the problem was that the money-changers were making money in the process which decreased the pilgrim’s ability to celebrate and share God’s gift of abundance.

So, again I ask, when Jesus enters the temple courtyard, why does he get upset?

The work of the temple was to be the center of worship and to help the poor. It was there to aid the widow, the orphan, and the stranger. Therefore, we can say social justice is at the heart of this passage.

In some ways, the temple was the welfare system for that time. If the temple did not administer its funds for the care of the widow, the orphan, the poor, and the stranger, some understood the temple was stealing from these people of need. So, the whole issue of justice is going on in the midst of this story.

There is one more thing I learned this week that I would like to share with you today. If we read this text thinking that the way Jesus feels in the context of the other Gospels is how he feels here in the book of John, we do an injustice to the Gospel of John. In the other Gospels, the cleansing of the temple and the disruption and dismissal of the temple’s righteousness, comes at the end of the Gospel, in that time we call Holy Week, and is the reason for Jesus’ trial and crucifixion. In these three Gospels, Jesus displays a righteous anger that dismisses the sacrificial practices as being empty and useless ritual behavior.

But, in John, while the cleansing of the temple occurs at Passover just as in the others, this is a Passover at the beginning of Jesus’ ministry. In this gospel, it has more to do with clearing the decks for the battle between light and darkness for the sake of the world. Here the actions of Jesus, the light of the world, are a corrective. Jesus says, “You shall not make my father’s house a market place”, but he makes no declaration of thievery or deceit.

One translation from Greek describes Jesus using a “whip of cords” in cleansing the temple. It can also be translated as “a scourge made of bull rushes”. In this sense, by using bull rushes, Jesus has made something more like a broom than a whip and is driving the animals out by swatting them and sweeping up after them. It is more like spring cleaning in order that worship, that is, prayer, praise and thanksgiving for what God has done for the people, that worship can again be central to the work of the temple.

Jesus’ actions of sweeping out the old will allow the people of John’s time to hear and see that the designation for recognizing God’s name in the world, is no longer the temple, a place, but that God’s name is to be located is in the person of Jesus himself. No longer will God be anchored in wood and stone, but God’s designation will be translocated to the mobile presence of Jesus himself for the sake of the world. God’s presence in the world will no longer be something to go to but to follow, and what it means to follow will be given to us in the examples of relationship that are to come.

In the Gospel of John, it is not the cleansing of the temple that is the cause for Jesus’ trial and crucifixion. Here the reason Jesus is crucified is that Jesus has demonstrated his divine authority by raising Lazarus from the dead. Jesus has made the reality of resurrection real and possible for all people. Jesus has demonstrated in no uncertain terms that he is the light of the world; that he is the way, the truth and the life. Jesus is the light that the darkness cannot overcome, and in the darkness of the world, Jesus is the light that shines leading God’s people into that relationship of grace and peace that has no end.

One of the people I spoke with this week said that Jesus is no angrier here than a drover is when he drives cattle to market--it is simply a job that needs to be done. “So, let’s get to it. We’re burning daylight.”

So, again I ask, when Jesus enters the temple courtyard, why does he get upset?

I realize what I have shared with you today is more like a Bible study than a sermon, but I wanted to do so because my studies have really changed the way that I think about this text. I think that this change also changes the way we can think about the whole Gospel of John.

This story of temple cleansing helps us to understand that mission and ministry is not fixed but something that we do on the go. It helps us understand that God’s house is revealed in, with, and through our relationships with our neighbors whenever we share God’s love and caring.

If we are able to come to these texts being able to set aside our preconceived prejudices and ideas, willing to talk with one another, then that which makes the Living Word the Living Word can continue to grow, can continue to change us, how we think, how we approach living. As my conversation partners this week have changed the way I think about this text, so I hope it has been helpful for you as well.

Let us go out into the world with the One who promises to walk with us and lead us, with the One who is intensely invested in celebrating God’s work in the world. Let us go out into the world in the presence of our risen Christ.

Day 29: Monday, Week 6—Tapping Down the Road

Isaiah 43:8-13; Psalm 119:9-16; 2 Corinthians 3:4-11

Even when I got my sight back, I wore very thick glasses. People could tell that my eye sight was not like theirs. I had gotten my driving license and was a competent driver, but driving was always work for me. I always felt more comfortable with another person in the car who helped with confirming what I already knew, another set of eyes to help in traffic and read signs. It wasn’t that I couldn’t do it myself, it just made life easier.

So standing in the narthex after worship at my internship congregation one day, a parishioner said, “I know you have difficulty with your eye sight and don’t see as well as I do, but the other day I saw you driving your truck. How do you manage that?”

I looked at her and said, “I just hook my white cane up to the windshield wipers and tap my way down the road.”

In today’s reading Paul is challenged in his authority by the Corinthians. He responds that, as far as letters of authority needing to be written, the Corinthians are his living referral letters. He claims no competence in himself, but points to the perfect work of Jesus Christ. If we depend on the work of humans, we can only look to works of judgment and death. God alone, revealed to us in Christ, creates something with the Holy Spirit that is permanent—a beautiful relationship made right with God through Christ’s actions for us that eclipses the best work of humankind.

By ourselves, we tap our way down the street seeking the way, but, in Christ, we are led and guided. We are assured of what we know and shown the way when we are lost or confused. Our confidence and our competence is in Jesus Christ who wipes our windshields clean revealing the way.

Prayer

Thank you for the gift and knowledge of salvation. In you, we are given the gifts that are needed to proclaim your kingdom world. Amen

SignPost Sunday to Wednesday, Week 5—Shakey’s

Psalm 119:9-16

One night a friend and I went out to Shakey’s for pizza and beer. We were young and not mindful of our limitations. At the end of the evening, we had over consumed. My friend was clearly not able to drive, and I couldn’t. Not really knowing what else to do, I called the sheriff’s department. I told them, “My friend is blind drunk, and I am just blind. Could you help?”

About twenty minutes later, a sheriff’s car arrived. The deputies were very polite. One of them drove my friend’s car home, and the other put both of us in the back of their car and took us home. Even though they commended us for not driving, they felt necessary to wake our parents to inform them of our condition.

We were home safe, and we were grounded.

Prayer

Lord, in your wisdom you give statutes for living together in safety. Help us always to know your ways so that we might consider the safety of others and act in responsible ways. When we stray, may we find correction with mercy. Amen

Fifth Sunday of Lent—The Windshield

Sometimes I forget that, just a few years ago, cars did not have air conditioning. We only had floor vents, vent windows, and fan. Today, without the vent windows or floor vents, we depend on air conditioning to regulate our comfort.

As amazing as that is, it is even harder to believe that the car was invented without a windshield. Hats, goggles, scarves, dusters, and gloves were part of automobile wear. Quickly though the windshield became an essential part of the driving experience. Later space program technologies merged glass and plastic to give us the modern molded transparent shield that, by protecting us from the elements, insects, and flying debris, makes modern highway speeds comfortable.

There is that problem of being able to see through it. Rain, snow, fog, frost, and dirt impede our vision and make driving dangerous. Windshield washers, wipers, and defrosters are standard equipment because it is important to be able to see clearly where we are going.

One day while driving I encountered part of the monarch butterfly migration. At first, I saw the many beautiful butterflies. Then in seconds they were all over my windshield obscuring the road. I felt sad by the many deaths recorded on my windshield, but so grateful for the windshield fluid and wipers that saved my life.

Similarly, although we remember the days before the ELCA and before women were able to be ordained and although we remember changes in the way we worship and the frequency of celebrating Eucharist, we often forget that there was a time before God’s justifying work in Jesus. There was a time when we tried to live righteously enough on our own to merit God’s eternal love. It did not take long, historically speaking, to realize the need for a better way of seeing God’s way for us.

With the cleansing waters of baptism, with wipers of forgiveness, and the defrosting breath of the Holy Spirit, Christ’s window to God’s resurrection world is revealed before us, and we can clearly see through the debris that would obscure our vision.

One of the earliest commands of the church, given to Paul for his Gentile ministry, is to remember the poor. We are reminded of these words from Galatians when, at the end of worship, we hear, “Go in peace. Remember the poor.”

In a world without windshields, the poor are to be avoided, but looking through the windshield of Christ, the poor are given to us as a gift and an immediate ministry opportunity. Social injustice and prejudice become opportunities for speaking the gospel and lifting up the social dead into the possibilities of resurrection living.

As we drive along the ways of Christ’s glorious leading, let us be mindful of the vision ahead and remember that our view is through Christ, in his suffering death and resurrection.

Day 28: Saturday, Week 6—Judge not, Lest

Habakkuk 3:2-13; Psalm 51:1-12; John 12:1-11

In 2002, Sue and I packed up our 1995 Buick Century with our Norwegian Elkhound for a couple of weeks in DeSoto, Missouri to get some rest and do some writing having forgotten about the tornado that had passed through not long before. Hiking paths were still closed because of fallen trees. At worship in DeSoto that Sunday, the congregation was just rededicating their space for worship after significant damage.

Whenever a natural disaster strikes, I hear some “religious” leader talking about God’s judgment against whoever is affected. Rarely do I hear about God acting for the sake of the people.

Certainly there had been destruction, yes lives were lost, and the people were grieving, but the people were also rebuilding structures and their relationships with one another.

Are we to believe that each natural destructive event is a judgment against? If an avalanche occurs and no one is hurt, do we thumb our noses and say, “You missed?” Was the flooding of New Orleans during Huricane Kate or the recent hurricane damage in Texas, Florida, and Puerto Rico a judgment against these places, or was it a wake up call for the rest of our nation to pay attention to our corporate complicity in contributing to climate change endangering God’s people. Did recent storms really say something about the people there, or did it say something to us?

There is not much that we can do to protect ourselves from tornados except warnings, but the conditions of these other places were apparent and reported long before the events took place. Where were we then?

In today’s reading, I think that Habakkuk may have the right idea. We stand in awe of God’s work. Devastation runs before God; and God acts in ways to lift up and save the people.

In the places of destruction we see God’s hand in lifting up the oppressed, in walking with the grieving, in building new relationships of hope. We will continue to hear about floods in the Dakotas and down the Mississippi Valley. There will be tsunamis and earthquakes around the world. If we aren’t challenged as a world community to come to their aid, then the judgment is on us. Christ has come so the world might be saved. We have a long way to go.

Prayer

Lord, we thank you for judging us with mercy. Help us to be merciful too. Amen

Day 27: Friday, Week 5—Paddling the Waters of Baptism

Exodus 30:1-10; Psalm 51:1-12; Hebrews 4:14-5:4

My home congregation youth group took a yearly canoe trip. When we got to camp, we would go to cabins and then down to the lake where we learned to select a paddle, how to use it, and water safety. Then we got into canoes to practice our technique.

For many, it was the first time they were in a canoe. For some it was old hat, but the goal was to learn our group strengths and weaknesses.

The following day, we traveled by van with our canoes to the drop off point. There we sorted out our gear, loaded the canoes and started our journey down stream to our pick up point.

At the beginning of the trip we were clumsy and slow, but by the end of the trip we were fairly accomplished. What was most apparent though was the ability of the group to work together in order to get something done.

During the time together people shared life stories, taught one another ways of getting things done and shared strengths (literally, when portaging, and figuratively, with patience and understanding).

People who had no camping or canoeing experience at the beginning of the trip came home with new found abilities. Many returned with greater tolerance and understanding of others. It started with leadership and training, but it became the shared work of all.

Today we are told that we have a high priest in the person of Jesus Christ. He has come to know our shortcomings and failings. He has not failed himself, but continues to instruct and teach by his leading.

We often claim that we cannot do the tasks of witness and evangelism or that we are not good teachers, singers or readers. Our fear of incompetence prevents us from putting our paddles in the water. Our fear is greater than our commitment to the journey we share.

In the waters of baptism we have been called by our great high priest to serve one another so let us approach God’s throne with boldness. We are assured of mercy and grace. Together we have been given all of the gifts we need to succeed.

Prayer

Lord, you came that we might learn your ways of salvation. Give us boldness to enter fully into your kingdom community. Amen

Day 26: Thursday, Week 5—Aah, Rest

Isaiah 30:15-18; Psalm 51:1-12; Hebrews 4:1-13

As we camped in Buttermilk Falls, New York, I sat at the table in the heat of sunlight reflected from our 1965 Ambassador wagon. I remember my mom saying, “I wish we didn’t have to go back. I feel so rested here.” For her, rest meant anonymous living without social obligations and commitments. She loved to catch up on her reading, letter writing, and sleep. It didn’t really matter to her where she went as long as she got to take time for herself. This need for vacating or retreat can be important, yet this is not what I believe God’s rest is about.

God’s rest is not about doing (or not doing); it is about being. God’s rest at the end of creation does not celebrate creation being done, but that creation is. After the work of doing, God does not sit back and ask to be served, God invites creation to enter into a time of relationship.

It’s now time to get to know one another. The work of relationship takes time to be. We are not what we do; we are who God made us. We need time to know that God is God. God interacts with us and those around us through the gifts we have been given. We need time to explore those gifts and listen to God’s voice of calling and God’s hand of leading. This is not a time to vacate; it is a time to enter in—into relationship with God and one another.

It is a time of interaction, discovering and discerning our way together. I sometimes think about it like being a choir. Sopranos sing one thing, altos another; tenors, baritones and basses all have their own song; some are active and melodic, others are plodding and plain. There may be beauty in one line; but if it is not willing to be in relationship with the others, the song can be thin. It is the relationship of all of the voices, sharing the words of the song, which brings power, depth, and texture to the piece.

Our weekly Sabbath time, invites us into that relationship with God so we have a partner and partners in the singing of our gospel songs learned in daily life. “And so, with the choirs of angels, the church on earth, and the hosts of heaven, we join and sing their endless song.” We can start learning the new verses and melodies for next week tomorrow.

Prayer

Lord, you hold the door open for us to enter, but we turn aside wanting to open doors for ourselves. Help us know the gift of relationship with you in the community of people you gather around us. Help us learn your gospel song. Amen

SignPost Thursday to Sunday, Week 5—The Laundromat

Psalm 51:1-12

On a trip to the Smoky Mountains, my family had hit four days of rain in a row. The camper was damp; our sleeping bags were damp; our clothes were muddy. Life in the car was tense; harsh words had been spoken; none of us felt very friendly, let alone loving, toward one another. We had clearly spent too much time together in cramped quarters.

In a small town we found the cure for our malaise: a Laundromat, and theater, and a restaurant.

We washed our clothes, cleaned up in the bathroom, ate a good meal in a heated restaurant, went to a movie, and then, before going back to the campground, we stopped back at the Laundromat and ran our sleeping bags through the drier. 

Back in the camper, we quickly got ready for bed, jumped into our still slightly warm sleeping bags and went to sleep.

In the morning the sun came out and dried the canvas. We took everything out of the car, repacked, and started the next leg of the trip. Life was good again.

Prayer

Lord, it is easy to bruise others’ feelings when we are out of sorts. With the gift of forgiveness we receive from you, may we find the graciousness to forgive those around us, so that we can again eat together and sleep in peace. Amen

Sermon for Wednesday of Week 4—Light in the Darkness

Psalm 107:1-16
Isaiah 60:15-22
John 8:12-20

Throughout the Gospel of John we hear the repeated theme of light and darkness. In the very first chapter, we read “What has come into being through [Christ] was life, and the life was the light of all people.” And then, our English translations say, “The light shines in the darkness and the darkness did not overcome it.” A more literal translation of this last passage says, “The light, in the darkness shines, and the darkness overcomes it not.”

I know that the difference of the translation is minor, and, for most of us, we say, “So what?”  But there is a difference. One proclaims light that shines from outside into the darkness, and, the other speaks of the darkness being everywhere, and the light shines in the midst of it.

The difference was brought home to me one night when a group of friends and I had gone backpacking. At the end of a long day of hiking, we were tired, but we were pleased with our progress. We made a fire and as the sun set, we talked, told jokes, told some stories, and relaxed before turning in for the night. At some point, I got up and walked out into the woods for a while. Clouds had moved in threatening rain, but the weather was still holding. As I walked out into the trees, away from the fire, it got darker and darker. At a bend in the path I was following the fire light disappeared completely. It was black; I could see nothing at all. The trail got steeper. I thought I’d turn around.

Climbing back up the hill, I missed the turn back to camp. My landmarks were gone, I had no idea where I was. I had not taken my flashlight with me because I did not think that I was going that far. I called out, but no one responded. In the thickness of the trees sound was muffled. I could not hear the others talking either. Should I keep trying to find my way back? Was I only going to get more confused and maybe walk away from my friends?

I sat down to think for a minute. I couldn’t be that far away, but how was I going to find my friends and camp? Finally I thought to climb a nearby tree. As I climbed, I heard something moving above. I froze for a moment. “What might be living in the tree?” I thought. I was afraid to move, but the scolding of a squirrel told me it was going to be okay. I climbed a little higher and there it was. The fire was shining off to my left. I climbed back down the tree and found my way back. In the midst of the darkness the light shined out.

As I walked back into camp I was particularly happy to notice how the darkness was still all around us, but the light from our fire had pushed the boundaries of the darkness back for awhile. Yet, when our wood was consumed, the darkness would enclose us all.

Tonight we are told that Jesus is the light of the world. It is not a light in the darkness that will burn out. Even when the light is seemingly extinguished on the cross, we find that the light is kindled anew on Easter morning and that the light of life is promised to all of us in the darkness of death. The light shines out for us to see, and the darkness overcomes it not.

But death is not the only part of the darkness. We live in the darkness of fear, the darkness of war, the darkness of polarized politics, the darkness of poverty, the darkness of oppression. These darknesses continue to surround us, yet if we do not lose our way in the darkness, with Christ’s unquenchable light, we can push the boundaries of those darknesses back.

If we do get lost in the darkness, we can still climb the tree of the cross and find the light of Christ again shining out of the darkness, guiding us home—home to that place where Isaiah tells us that, instead of ordinary things, we will be given extraordinary gifts. We will be given more than we ask for and greater quality than we desire.

Indeed, the City of Peace, Jerusalem, will be the city of peace, and the righteousness of God will surround us. The Lord will be our everlasting light and God will be our glory.

In Baptism we received Christ’s light and may have heard these words. “Let your light so shine before others that they might see your good works [in Christ Jesus].” Let us go to shine in the darkness.