From Dust to Trust

For just as by the one man’s disobedience the many were made sinners, so by the one man’s obedience the many will be made righteous. (Romans 5.19, NRSV)

It’s contagious - especially on the campus of a seminary - once someone gets the “creeping crud” as they call it - we all get sick. We know it well in our house, though we’ve been mostly healthy, It’s been a particularly difficult and long winter, and we’re stuck inside a lot of the time — just breathing on each other. Gross! 

But there is sunshine at the end of the dark tunnel. Spring will come — this week the still frozen earth is being washed by the melted precipitation that first hit the ground here in before Thanksgiving Day. The flowers will bloom once again, and the seeds that are dormant in the cold ground will produce new life. There is hope.

On Ash Wednesday last week, we received the mark of ashes on our foreheads and were reminded - all of us, from senior saint to newborn children - that from dust we came, and to dust we will return. In the letter to the Romans (Rom. 5-12-19), St. Paul picks up that theme from Genesis - the first human being made from the dust of the created earth. Of course that story follows with Eve, the serpent, the fruit of the tree, the disobedience, and humanity cast out from the blessed garden of Eden. That story reminds us that we have what Adam and Eve had.   

We’ve caught the sickness of sin.

Whether it was transmitted through genetics or just a part of the world we live in - we’re quite familiar with it. Paul will go on to speak about the good that we would do — but we don’t. The bad things that we don’t want to to do — we do. 

During Lent we are reminded that all of our lives have a beginning and an end. We will all die. Sadly, this is true. Maybe some remember a little more easily that life is fragile. They’ve experienced the loss of friends and family, over the past year, or maybe you have experienced health issues yourself. It’s hard to find new life after a loss.

But there is hope…

We suffer the same as Adam and Eve in the story — we can feel cast out, burdened by life, and estranged from the one who created us.

In the hospice unit at Broward General Hospital, a few summers ago, I meet a man who was dying of cardio-pulmonary disease. We talked a little bit, it was difficult for him. He had a wife - she didn’t come to visit him there. I asked a little bit about God, and he said, oh yes, he believed, but felt that God had abandoned the world. Like the toymaker that had created the top and set it spinning, God just sat back and watched. 

I thought about how lonely that must feel. But maybe I’ve felt that way too at times. That if God were here now, maybe things would be better. Maybe we wouldn’t have to deal with so much suffering, and we’d be truly healed. Maybe I wouldn’t doubt so much, maybe my parents wouldn’t be divorced, maybe by sister would get her life together, maybe my friend’s dad wouldn’t hit him. 

We live with the sickness every day. Many times, we make it worse, instead of better. So we find, though we try, that we can’t save ourselves. Maybe then, we turn to that dusty old book on the shelf. 

We read the promises in scripture: 

“for if the many died through the one man’s trespass much more (much more!) surely have the grace of God and the gift of the grace of the one man, Jesus Christ, abounded for the many.” (v.16)

God is the God of justice and promises  to deliver us. The promise kept is what Paul calls the “free gift.” It’s not a one to one ratio anymore - one sinned, one saved; Paul says the gift is greater than the trespass! It is a gift greater than the sum of the sin of the world - for every one that has turned from God, that has hurt someone else, failed to help, shied away from serving the neighbor, sought life from things that can only bring death - they are in. 

The gift - which also comes in the form of death — Jesus’ death on the cross, for you, for me - for the world. 

Paul is teaching about the forgiveness of sin through Jesus’ death on the cross — not just for him, and not just for the community at Rome, not just for those who follow the Jewish law, but people from every nation. There is death all around. But, Life is greater. The light outshines the darkness. Death can’t win - even while it may rule in this world, and it may feel like the final word, it is made null and void in the power of life in Christ. Find hope in this: We will die, but you who are in Christ, are truly alive!

This is the kingdom of God - the many made righteous through the cross - the light that scatters darkness and the victory over evil.

On this cross hangs hope - this Jesus died so that ALL would be made right - that you would be reconciled to God, not on account of anything you have done, but because of who God IS. Because we’ve still got the symptoms - just like we’re still coughing and sneezing, we’re still sinners surrounded by sin in us and all around us - yet, God calls us something else - righteous. We didn’t do that - that comes only from God - called righteous - made righteous in the forgiveness in the cross of Christ, through the power of the Holy Spirit. 

In the weeks to come, when you see that new flower blooming, and the brown grass turning green, and the sun break through the clouds, I hope and pray that you remember the ashes. Remember the shape they made on your forehead last week. Remember the cross — and the promise that the one who brought you up from the dust is the one who promises life from death, and makes you righteous, in the name of Jesus Christ. 

Rejoice!

A week later his disciples were again in the house, and Thomas was with them. Although the doors were shut, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you.” Then he said to Thomas, “Put your finger here and see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it in my side. Do not doubt but believe.” Thomas answered him, “My Lord and my God!” 

(John 20:26-28 NRSV)

It was a rough week.

Thomas missed out.

Imagine - a whole week

in despair,

when the rest of your friends

had all been celebrating

seeing the risen Lord!

On that day,

to touch the wounds

and truly believe

would be a day of great rejoicing.

My Lord and My God!


Lord of Life, Thank you for showing up even when we're not sure what to think. I believe! Help my unbelief, and show me the many ways you are present in my life. In Jesus name, Amen.

Keepin' It Real.

A friend of mine passed a coin onto me this week.

It’s a Flowing Hair Dollar – the first dollar minted by the U.S. government. Interesting to me, since this Holy Week we recall the story of Judas’ betrayal of Jesus for the sum of 30 pieces of silver (read Matthew 26:14-16). The coin is a work of art. It’s beautiful to look at. It’s heavy, and is inscribed on the edges. It represents Liberty, a national identity, the economy, self-rule, and prosperity.

But it’s not real.

The coin is a replica. It’s not worth the amount printed on it, except as a paperweight, or a conversation piece, or a keepsake. It’s not legal tender.

In Christian churches, around our necks, and on our T-shirts we see replicas – reminders of something real – symbols of the suffering savior that came into our existence to suffer with us, and suffer for us. This week,  I’ve been thinking about the reality of Jesus’ suffering, and trying not to envision it according to the movie portrayals of blood and violence, but as the defining act of salvation for the whole world.

That moment, Jesus’ death for all on the cross, is the moment of our real liberty, the source of our real identity as redeemed children of God. How can it be real to us? Many have suffered, but we haven’t had to suffer in that manner. Many have lost everything, been victimized, felt despair, loss, addiction, and fear. yet, we can't understand persecution at the hands of a ruling empire the way early followers of Jesus did. Most of us wake up in comfortable beds, take hot showers, and cook meals in cozy kitchens, in an existence of relative wealth and safety.

We have to be reminded of the story. We have to live in the darkness. We have to wait and be silent.

We cannot understand fully. We do not have the experience. We only have faith.

Have faith that you have been united with Christ in this violent death. Have faith that God became incarnate in Jesus, and that He suffered and died so that you might be forgiven, redeemed, re-imagined and rewarded with a resurrection like His. Have faith that God is with you in your kind of suffering, knows your loneliness and isolation, your fear and loss, your grief and despair, your sin and brokenness.

“He who saw this has testified so that you also may believe” -John 19:35

A Star is Born.

     Wise men from a far away land signal that the new king is born. This is not a king only for the people of Israel, but for the whole world. This is a new kind of king. Not an earthly king; not one like we’ve had in the past. This is the One who ushers in God’s kingdom of love and righteousness for the world, no matter where you come from.

            When I was in the seventh grade, the kids chose sides. It was expected, and sometimes necessary for survival. You could be either a surfer or a skater. You were either a metal-head or a rapper. You might be a redneck or a jock. These were labels, yes, but also identities. These groups provided an identity, and to belong to a group meant protection. There were days that I kept my head low and walked quickly to the bus to avoid possible fights that would break out. There were wars and rumors of wars. It could be a rough place, at least it seemed that way. By the time I got to high-school, the lines were a bit more blurry, but similarly drawn. These artificial borders separated groups of kids that sometimes mixed in class or on the gym floor or the football field, at the mall, or elsewhere in the community.

           We draw lines.  

That Jesus was born in a manger, attended to by shepherds, and visited by foreign priests, signals an event that crosses lines that we draw for ourselves. To call myself a follower of Christ is NOT to say, “I’m on this side, and unless you declare your allegiance, then we cannot be on the same team.” In Christ all people are united. In Christ, the Holy One in which God is revealed in flesh and blood, we find that we are one people. We are united by the love that God shows for the world in sending the Son to be human just like us. We are united by this Jesus that is the incarnate One, fully divine and powerful to save us from sin.

Not everyone saw the star. The wise men came from the East, and returned to their home country. The promise of Immanuel was not just for them, though they saw the sign. The visited the newborn king of the Jews, though not Jews themselves. Did they tell the story? Did they speak about what they had witnessed? The travels of the wise men tell us that this was the event for which the universe was waiting and that the change in the world was for the world, through the world did not know it. The people had yet to see what God was doing.

It’s a matter of perspective. We cannot see all that God is doing, and we don’t know everything that encompasses what Paul calls the “mystery of Christ”[1]. Paul says that we are all sharers in the promise of Christ through the gospel. The good news of God is to be shared among all people, and the rest is up to the Spirit. We are one people. We are kings and shepherds, magi and innkeepers, carpenters and scribes, metal-heads and gangsta rappers, surfers and skaters, members of one body of Christ, united in the gospel, the Word made flesh. 

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[1] Eph. 3.4

What Do You Want Me to Do?

We in the church have been reading the tenth chapter of Mark’s gospel the past few weeks, and it has me thinking about the way we use these stories that often get rolled into this season of the church year. This is a time we talk about budgets and stewardship, along with the giving of our “time and talents” (that phrase is wearing on me). In our worship, we also include the recurring events like new member receptions, confirmations, baptisms, Fall weddings, and preparation for the harvest that leads into the season of Advent. Whew!

It’s easy to see how some might lose sight of the reason we do all this. His name is Jesus.

In Mark’s gospel, Jesus’ miracles and teaching function within the narrative to identify the incarnate Son as the One in whom God works victory over the apocalyptic powers of evil, sin, and death. When the rich man asks Jesus how he could obtain eternal life, he identifies Jesus as “Good Teacher” to which Jesus notes that it is only God that is “good” (Mark 10.18). (Spoiler alert: Jesus is God!) Of course Jesus gives the financially well-off man (the 1%?) the imperative to sell all that he has, and give the money to the poor (Mark 10.21). I have heard this proclaimed to congregations that we should also be generous with our cash, which is not a bad thing, but is this what Jesus is saying to us?

Recent headlines about people who consider themselves “Spiritual but Not Religious,” Atheists, Agnostics, and religious “Nones” have garnered much attention. To those of us who study such things and think about the future of faith in the world on a daily basis, this isn’t really new information. As our society has progressed, (in America, at least) each decade seems to bring with it a thinning strand with which the current generation holds onto the religious practices and traditions of the generations that came before it. Should we be surprised that the highest percentages of people who identify themselves as having no religious affiliation are in the ages of 18-30?

My parents graduated high school in 1974. They were too young for Vietnam, and already apathetic toward politics in general, came of age in the Ford and Carter eras. The rebellion ignited in the sixties had fizzled into the dawn of the “slacker” seventies (a precursor to the 80’s yuppie backlash). One of the few things they had to rebel against was the established religious tradition of their parents, and with more women entering the work force and professional careers during the ‘Quiet Revolution,’ the focus of Sunday morning shifted from the sanctuary to the soccer field. This might be oversimplification, but I think it’s a chance to begin to look at how and why these issues have evolved.

There are myriad answers as to why young people identify themselves as unassociated with the religious landscape of the twenty-first century. One is the example of their parents. Another is the movement of the American Christian landscape towards a civic-faith, watered-down gospel, gathering of the ‘nice.’ Yet another is the parade of hypocrisy publicly demonstrated by those associated with the loudest versions of Christianity in America. Like the rich man in Mark 10, young adults, and Christians in general “lack one thing.”

Jesus’ answer to the man, then, is that he cannot obtain the kingdom of heaven. He can’t do it. For mortals it is impossible (Mark 10.27). To assume that Jesus’ command to sell his possessions is the answer to the rich man’s question is to say that we can save ourselves. If the man in question were to follow through and sell all that he had and give it to the poor, he still would not obtain the salvation he asks from the Lord. It’s not quid pro quo. The one thing the rich man lacks is not humility, poverty, or good deeds. The one thing he lacks is that he is not the Christ. Jesus’ final words to the man are “Come, and follow me.” The answer in Mark’s Gospel to the question is to believe that Jesus is the One in which God works, the One who has the power to save, and the One who can conquer death and the evil of the world.

The point is furthered (Mark 10.35-45) when James and John ask Jesus for a position of glory, sitting next to him at right and left side. Jesus’ followers were rightly upset when they heard of the request, since the two were putting themselves above the rest. Jesus’ response goes on to identify the role of the Son of God. It is not for Jesus to grant who is greatest, but to follow the will of God, to go to the cross, to be the Savior of the world. Jesus tells them he has not come to decide which of them is the greatest, but to invite us into relationship, to teach us serve others rather than ourselves, and to do what we cannot, taking on the sin of the world.

To those who would mark the box, “None:” understand that a life of faith does not require moral purity, judgment of others, a pure way of life, but only faith. Trust in God – the One revealed to the world in Jesus Christ, who says, “Come, follow me.” This is the first step in the process. Yes, let go of the things that hold you back from real relationship with Christ. Let go of the baggage, the doubt, the fear, the fascination with the things of this world, and really walk with Jesus. God knows you are not perfect, in fact you are lacking. You are not the Christ. Luckily, Jesus is, was, and will be. 

Then Jesus said to him, "What do you want me to do for you?" The blind man said to him, "My teacher, let me see again." Jesus said to him, "Go; your faith has made you well." Immediately he regained his sight and followed him on the way. Mark 10.51-52

Greetings from Iowa City!

I’m writing this blog post from my fancy new office in my internship congregation in Iowa City, IA. The welcome we’ve received here has been tremendous. My heart is filled with joy when I think of all the wonderful people that my family and I been surrounded with and will get to share this experience with over the next 12 months. This town has farmers’ markets, a university community, public art and public gardens, volunteer opportunities, entertainment options, great food, and need I mention: college football. This is going to be sweet.

I’m feeling a change. This is a real period of transition for me, on my way to becoming a pastor. This is a time to seek out knowledge, to practice some of the things I’ve learned at seminary, to ask questions, and to make some mistakes. This is a chance to live into the role of pastor, and to walk with the people of this community of faith. The possibilities can be overwhelming, and I hope to narrow down some things that I will focus on this year, but I am optimistic that I will have a chance to see and feel and experience all that I need to enhance learning and become formed for leadership in the church. It’s pretty exciting.

I find myself aware of the changes during moments of peace. Waking up early. Waiting at the bus stop. Walking downtown. Rocking my children to sleep. It’s a growing awareness of the role I will play in people’s lives in the future. It’s a growing awareness of the depth of my call to ministry. It is scary at times, so I turn to prayer. I ask God to walk with me, to open me up to let the Spirit work in me. I look to the cross and to Jesus’ life and ministry to outsiders, the poor, and the marginalized.

Growing and changing. I pray that you are too.

Jer. 29.11

Peace,

Jason

Where’s the Compassion?

I’m feeling frustrated by the comments that I see and hear about suffering in the world.

When we read the news (online, of course), and learn about atrocities happening in Africa and the Middle East, American soldiers slaying civilians in Afghanistan, or the future of Iran and Israel, it is easy to become despondent. I fear for our future when the common dialogue in this country centers on whether or not we should be the ones pulling the trigger to end suffering in the world.

We live in a post-9/11 world.

We live in an Age of Information.

We are more than the sum of our stockpiles of weaponry.

Now, I admit, I don’t know all the issues that surround each country’s particular nightmarish scenario. I am interested in learning how interreligious dialogue plays a part in the peace process. I don’t have solutions, but I believe in communication.

More than that, I believe that we have a God that loves the world, the people in it, and continues to create in a creation that is good. We have a God that accompanies us in suffering, pain, sickness, isolation, confusion, and loneliness. We have a God that became incarnate in the world, journeyed to the cross, and took up the sin and the fear, hate, hurt, and abandonment in this world, so that we could be free from death and welcomed into the embrace of a Creator that cares.

God cares that we are killing each other. God cares that children are dying. God cares enough to suffer as we suffer, and does not abandon us when we doubt it.

God cares about you when you don’t care about yourself

God cares about you when all you care about is yourself.

We live under the cross of Jesus Christ, and we pray for the Kingdom of God to be present among us here and now. We are freed from sin and death. We are free to care about each other. We are freed to love our neighbor and our enemy at home and abroad.

Yes, bullets kill terrorists. Only the cross can kill what is truly evil.

Suddenly, one of those with Jesus put his hand on his sword, drew it, and struck the slave of the high priest, cutting off his ear.

Then Jesus said to him, "Put your sword back into its place; for all who take the sword will perish by the sword.

Matthew 26:51-52 NRSV

Check this out. 

http://www.forusa.org

Compassion is the keen awareness of the interdependence of all things. --Thomas Merton