In our Wednesday evening studies we have been reminded that John's theological gospel is largely ahistorical, reflecting community issues and in particular offering up hateful anti-Semitic material that is fictitious to the same extent as its ludicrous exculpatory portrayal of the monster Pontius Pilate. Bottom line is that Jesus was killed by Rome for opposing both its religion and its value system. That's called treason and it brought him to the horrible capital sentence of crucifixion.
The Jesus Movement was clearly anti-imperial and counter-cultural. Familiar titles given to the Emperor -- Son of God, Saviour, Prince of Peace, Lord -- were appropriated to Jesus. If Jesus is Lord, Caesar is not. If Jesus by radical non-violent resistance is Prince of Peace, then Caesar by strength-through-military-might is not. If Jesus is truly Son of God, the Emperor cannot claim it.
Jesus taught us to oppose violence, even in self-defence, to oppose the accumulation of wealth in overclass, to oppose slavery and systemic oppression of the poor and vulnerable in society. These were cornerstone imperial values for Rome, condoned by the religion, and to be opposed at great peril. Ironically, much of Christianity in our own time would make Jesus a cheerleader for these very values that he died fighting.
When we look at Christ on the cross, we see the natural consequence of a life totally in tune with God's will, a life poured out in absolute love. Even dying Jesus respects and forgives all without condition -- "Father, forgive them; they don't know what they're doing." Seeing the Divine shine forth from that cross, how can we not turn from sin? How can we not then reject the Dark Side to embrace the new, full, abundant life that living Christ's way brings to human experience?
Saturday, March 31, 2018
Maundy Thursday: Final Meal
In three of the four canonical gospels, Jesus' last meal with his entourage is a Pesach, a Passover meal. Celebrated by Jews to this day, it recalls the foundational story of the faith, liberation from slavery in Egypt. During the meal bread and wine are accompanied by several symbolic foods. A serving of maror, bitter herbs, reminds of the bitterness of slavery. Charoset, a spiced apple paste, represents the mortar used by slaves to fit bricks. Knipas, vegetables set in salt water, symbolize freedom. Beitzah, roasted egg, is eaten to remind participants of temple sacrifice. And, then, of course, the zeroa, the paschal lamb.
In my ministry, I have experienced that survivors always remember vividly the last words and deeds of the decedent. So it was logical that Jesus would choose this celebration to make a most dramatic and profound transition. For this meal, commonly called the last supper, also became the first Mass. During the ritual Jesus took bread, blessed it, declared it to be his own Body, and gave it out. Then Jesus took wine, blessed it, declared it to be his sacred Blood, and likewise gave that to his friends. Then he authorized -- ordained, if you will -- his apostles to repeat the ritual for all time which has been accomplished through the ages by bishops and priests in apostolic succession.
Importantly, after the meal, according to John's gospel, Jesus took a towel and began to wash the disciples' feet, an unimaginable act of humility and service, and counselled them to continue also humble service. This is a reminder that the Eucharist is not an end in itself but rather fuel to feed followers of Jesus so that we can do servant ministry in the world.
In my ministry, I have experienced that survivors always remember vividly the last words and deeds of the decedent. So it was logical that Jesus would choose this celebration to make a most dramatic and profound transition. For this meal, commonly called the last supper, also became the first Mass. During the ritual Jesus took bread, blessed it, declared it to be his own Body, and gave it out. Then Jesus took wine, blessed it, declared it to be his sacred Blood, and likewise gave that to his friends. Then he authorized -- ordained, if you will -- his apostles to repeat the ritual for all time which has been accomplished through the ages by bishops and priests in apostolic succession.
Importantly, after the meal, according to John's gospel, Jesus took a towel and began to wash the disciples' feet, an unimaginable act of humility and service, and counselled them to continue also humble service. This is a reminder that the Eucharist is not an end in itself but rather fuel to feed followers of Jesus so that we can do servant ministry in the world.
Sunday, March 25, 2018
Palm Sunday: An Introduction
Today we forego a sermon and let the readings speak for themselves. Yet, these canonical readings beg for an introduction.
Each biblical gospel, was written in the context of the particular experience and concerns of the community that produced it.. Therein "history" is unapologetically adjusted to the agendas of those communities. In comparing successive gospels over time, we see many trends. One, in particular, is anti-Semitism, expressing the early Christian communities' frustration over the failure of mainstream Judaism to convert or at least accomodate the Jesus Movement. The anti=Jewish trend has led to the scapegoating and murder of millions of Jesus' fellow-Jews over two millenia.
Last Wednesday evening in our "Saving Jesus" video, we learned that Jesus alienated just about everybody. That's what happens when you are on God's agenda without compromise. He called out greed, the accumulation of personal wealth, and the injustices of the Roman economic system. He condemned violence and peace through military power. He berated the sad hypocrisy of religious professionals. But let us be clear: Jesus was executed by the Roman Empire for treason, namely for openl opposing the values and religion of the State.
Put theologically, the horrible death that Jesus experienced was the result of human sin. We are all participants in human sin and we all continually need to be redeemed from it. Hence the logic of the words of a beloved hymn, "'Twas I denied him, I crucified him." All of us need to be transformed into the image of Christ, not into the image of the society that tortured and killed him. Sadly, much of contemporary Christianity has been co-opted into service of those very values that Jesus died fighting. We are being called to basics, back into conformance with the life and teachings of Rabbi Jesus. Lent is a means to that end. With the beginning of Holy Week, we follow Jesus on his final journey to Cross and tomb. That story is transmitted and mediated by the human communities that preserved it. We engage it with great care and all faithfulness.
Each biblical gospel, was written in the context of the particular experience and concerns of the community that produced it.. Therein "history" is unapologetically adjusted to the agendas of those communities. In comparing successive gospels over time, we see many trends. One, in particular, is anti-Semitism, expressing the early Christian communities' frustration over the failure of mainstream Judaism to convert or at least accomodate the Jesus Movement. The anti=Jewish trend has led to the scapegoating and murder of millions of Jesus' fellow-Jews over two millenia.
Last Wednesday evening in our "Saving Jesus" video, we learned that Jesus alienated just about everybody. That's what happens when you are on God's agenda without compromise. He called out greed, the accumulation of personal wealth, and the injustices of the Roman economic system. He condemned violence and peace through military power. He berated the sad hypocrisy of religious professionals. But let us be clear: Jesus was executed by the Roman Empire for treason, namely for openl opposing the values and religion of the State.
Put theologically, the horrible death that Jesus experienced was the result of human sin. We are all participants in human sin and we all continually need to be redeemed from it. Hence the logic of the words of a beloved hymn, "'Twas I denied him, I crucified him." All of us need to be transformed into the image of Christ, not into the image of the society that tortured and killed him. Sadly, much of contemporary Christianity has been co-opted into service of those very values that Jesus died fighting. We are being called to basics, back into conformance with the life and teachings of Rabbi Jesus. Lent is a means to that end. With the beginning of Holy Week, we follow Jesus on his final journey to Cross and tomb. That story is transmitted and mediated by the human communities that preserved it. We engage it with great care and all faithfulness.
Sunday, March 18, 2018
Lent V: Humanity
At our Wednesday evening Soup and Study, we have been following the video series "Saving Jesus" and have begun with the most fundamental question: Who was Jesus? After all, in our culture there does not seem to be a consensus. Is Jesus a deity who appears to be human or has just enough traits to be relatable? Maybe Jesus is really a rather traditional go-along-to-get-along kind of rabbi, maybe a member of the Jerusalem Chamber, something of a cheerleader for his world's values like greed, gross maldistribution of wealth, unbridled capitalism and imperialism. Or maybe he's a philosopher making a little money on the side posing with lambs for calendar pictures.
Or maybe he was the man who he clearly was: a social activist who sided with the poor and oppressed, outsiders, marginalized and forgotten people. A loving, non-judgemental, suffering servant of others. In short, a troublemaker. Indeed, the trouble he stirred up led to execution by Rome. In a real sense, we can say Jesus was killed by human sin, in which we all participate.
A few years ago, the Nikos Kazantzakis film, The Last Temptation of Christ, created a big stir among conservative Christians because they said it made Jesus look too human. If Jesus is actually a human person like you and me, that can be a devastating discovery, for it means that we have no excuse for not being who he was and doing what he did. And to deny Jesus the man is heresy. The Council of Chalcedon decided the matter in the year 451, declaring Jesus fully human. They did not deny the presence and work of the Divine in his life but saw it in living tension with his human nature. The Lord we know felt hunger, pain, fear, sadness, grief -- everything we experience. Therefore, we can relate.
A few weeks back our Gospel reading was of the Transfiguration, a collective vision in which Peter, James, and John came to understand the full expression of the Divine in their Lord. In Holy Week they will see another side -- his full humanity -- as he begs God not to have to go to the cross, but defers to its holy purpose. They will prove weak, fall asleep in his hour of need, and they will all run away when staying counts. But we know how the story ends. We know that God will not let the Dark Side have the final word, that Love will triumph eternal. And out of that victory a new covenant will be born, sacramentally mediated in his Catholic Church. In the last book of the Jewish Bible, Malachi, we read that God's Name will be great among the gentiles because from the rising of the sun to its setting, everywhere a perfect offering will be made. That is the Mass in which we offer Christ's forever-sacrifice to the Father and find our new life, our full humanity, in him.
Or maybe he was the man who he clearly was: a social activist who sided with the poor and oppressed, outsiders, marginalized and forgotten people. A loving, non-judgemental, suffering servant of others. In short, a troublemaker. Indeed, the trouble he stirred up led to execution by Rome. In a real sense, we can say Jesus was killed by human sin, in which we all participate.
A few years ago, the Nikos Kazantzakis film, The Last Temptation of Christ, created a big stir among conservative Christians because they said it made Jesus look too human. If Jesus is actually a human person like you and me, that can be a devastating discovery, for it means that we have no excuse for not being who he was and doing what he did. And to deny Jesus the man is heresy. The Council of Chalcedon decided the matter in the year 451, declaring Jesus fully human. They did not deny the presence and work of the Divine in his life but saw it in living tension with his human nature. The Lord we know felt hunger, pain, fear, sadness, grief -- everything we experience. Therefore, we can relate.
A few weeks back our Gospel reading was of the Transfiguration, a collective vision in which Peter, James, and John came to understand the full expression of the Divine in their Lord. In Holy Week they will see another side -- his full humanity -- as he begs God not to have to go to the cross, but defers to its holy purpose. They will prove weak, fall asleep in his hour of need, and they will all run away when staying counts. But we know how the story ends. We know that God will not let the Dark Side have the final word, that Love will triumph eternal. And out of that victory a new covenant will be born, sacramentally mediated in his Catholic Church. In the last book of the Jewish Bible, Malachi, we read that God's Name will be great among the gentiles because from the rising of the sun to its setting, everywhere a perfect offering will be made. That is the Mass in which we offer Christ's forever-sacrifice to the Father and find our new life, our full humanity, in him.
Sunday, March 11, 2018
Laetare Sunday: John 3:16 Revisited
If you ask people on the street to name a bible verse, I am confident of what answer would be predominant John 3.16, displayed at American football games and everywhere else, has been a mantra of evangelicals for a long time. It is perhaps the most romanticized and misunderstood of all scriptural verses. Let's take a fresh look through the lens of the Johannine evangelist. I shall pose and answer three questions that are key to interpreting this lovely passage effectively.
First, let's ask: what does "believe in him" mean? If I say that I believe in my wife, I do not mean that she is Irish-American or likes genealogy and crafts, or that she is retired. The statement has nothing to do with facts about her and everything to do with relationship with her. When I say I believe in her I mean that I place absolute my trust absolutely trust in her, even to the point of dying for her if necessary. To say I believe in Jesus doesn't mean I know facts about Jesus, or that I have certain opinions about him, or that I have become emotional and signed some "faith statement." It means unconditional, radical trust in him, if necessary even to the point of death. That is what it means to be one who believes in the Son. And in John's view it is not just confidence in the key relationship, but also unswerving loyalty to Jesus' teachings and way of life. All bundled together.
Second: just why did Logos have to come anyway? Did an anthropomorphic God send Jesus to save individual people from his terrible anger? Did God engineer the sacrifice of his Son's body, just to appease himself? Did he resolve to provide an afterlife of pleasure rather than torture for those who believe certain things about his Son? Did God's plan never contemplate ridding the world of evil? No, all these notions reflect a primitive, simplistic viewpont. Jesus came to save the world. That means what Jews mean by tikkun olam -- repairing the world --that is, restoring creation to God's original intent. That means a world full of justice, mercy, compassion, love and genuine equality.
Third: what kind of sin did Jesus come to take on? Just personal sin? No, personal sin we cling to is important precisely because it leads to corporate sin. Personal moral failures leads to immoral systems. People enslaved to sin produce evil in both public and private life. In John's reflective biblical viewpoint, salvation is not magic, instantaneous forgiveness of personal sins over which God holds a grudge. Salvation is rather a process of ending systemic, structural sin in human society -- the sins of slavery, abuse, oppression, greed and injustice, hatred and bigotry. In that process we become instruments of God's salvation of the world. We must be the hands, feet, and voice of the radical rabbi we claim to follow. Let us ask ourselves this Lent: how are we responding to his call?
First, let's ask: what does "believe in him" mean? If I say that I believe in my wife, I do not mean that she is Irish-American or likes genealogy and crafts, or that she is retired. The statement has nothing to do with facts about her and everything to do with relationship with her. When I say I believe in her I mean that I place absolute my trust absolutely trust in her, even to the point of dying for her if necessary. To say I believe in Jesus doesn't mean I know facts about Jesus, or that I have certain opinions about him, or that I have become emotional and signed some "faith statement." It means unconditional, radical trust in him, if necessary even to the point of death. That is what it means to be one who believes in the Son. And in John's view it is not just confidence in the key relationship, but also unswerving loyalty to Jesus' teachings and way of life. All bundled together.
Second: just why did Logos have to come anyway? Did an anthropomorphic God send Jesus to save individual people from his terrible anger? Did God engineer the sacrifice of his Son's body, just to appease himself? Did he resolve to provide an afterlife of pleasure rather than torture for those who believe certain things about his Son? Did God's plan never contemplate ridding the world of evil? No, all these notions reflect a primitive, simplistic viewpont. Jesus came to save the world. That means what Jews mean by tikkun olam -- repairing the world --that is, restoring creation to God's original intent. That means a world full of justice, mercy, compassion, love and genuine equality.
Third: what kind of sin did Jesus come to take on? Just personal sin? No, personal sin we cling to is important precisely because it leads to corporate sin. Personal moral failures leads to immoral systems. People enslaved to sin produce evil in both public and private life. In John's reflective biblical viewpoint, salvation is not magic, instantaneous forgiveness of personal sins over which God holds a grudge. Salvation is rather a process of ending systemic, structural sin in human society -- the sins of slavery, abuse, oppression, greed and injustice, hatred and bigotry. In that process we become instruments of God's salvation of the world. We must be the hands, feet, and voice of the radical rabbi we claim to follow. Let us ask ourselves this Lent: how are we responding to his call?
Thursday, March 8, 2018
Tuesday in Lent III: Rolling Sevens
Our passage of Jewish Scripture is from the book of Daniel. It is one of the sections of the Bible deleted by the protestant reformers. That is too bad because it articulates the song of the Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego in the "fiery furnace" story. It is third in a series of short stories, a dramatic contest about the nature of the true God. The three companions show willingness to suffer death rather than worship a deity other than the God of Israel. Babylonians had reported the three to Nebuchadnezzar, the Babylonian king. He hauls them in and demands that they sacrifice to an idol. When the refuse, the king becomes livid and orders them executed by fire. He even orders that the heat level of the furnace be increased seven times (the number seven is symbolic of 'perfection' in the Middle East.)
The men who bind and commit the three to the flames are themselves incinerated by the great heat. However, these three friends (and a fourth man who is an angel who stopped to lend moral support) are singing and dancing to their Lord in the fire, while they are miraculously untouched by flames! The king hears the commotion, goes to the furnace, and sees the miracle. He frees them, promotes them to high office in the kingdom, and issues a decree that anyone who blasphemes Israel's God shall be executed by dismemberment and have that person's property destroyed. The bottom-line is clear: faithfulness and loyalty to YHVH pay off!
In our reading from Christian Scripture [Mt. 18: 21-35] we find Saint Peter asking Jesus if he may limit forgiveness of another to seven times. Jesus says no, not seven times, but seventy-seven times (or, in some manuscripts, seventy times seven times, which is four hundred ninety.) Jesus is playing on a reference from Genesis which says Cain shall be avenged seven times, Lemuel seventy-seven. Obviously the message is that God places no limit on his forgiveness of humans and humans cannot limit forgiveness of others. An ancient provision in Jewish theology, still in effect today, holds that we may only ask for God's forgiveness if we have first forgiven others. That is an important lesson worth remembering in Lent.
The men who bind and commit the three to the flames are themselves incinerated by the great heat. However, these three friends (and a fourth man who is an angel who stopped to lend moral support) are singing and dancing to their Lord in the fire, while they are miraculously untouched by flames! The king hears the commotion, goes to the furnace, and sees the miracle. He frees them, promotes them to high office in the kingdom, and issues a decree that anyone who blasphemes Israel's God shall be executed by dismemberment and have that person's property destroyed. The bottom-line is clear: faithfulness and loyalty to YHVH pay off!
In our reading from Christian Scripture [Mt. 18: 21-35] we find Saint Peter asking Jesus if he may limit forgiveness of another to seven times. Jesus says no, not seven times, but seventy-seven times (or, in some manuscripts, seventy times seven times, which is four hundred ninety.) Jesus is playing on a reference from Genesis which says Cain shall be avenged seven times, Lemuel seventy-seven. Obviously the message is that God places no limit on his forgiveness of humans and humans cannot limit forgiveness of others. An ancient provision in Jewish theology, still in effect today, holds that we may only ask for God's forgiveness if we have first forgiven others. That is an important lesson worth remembering in Lent.
Sunday, March 4, 2018
Lent III: Jesus Loses It
I will long remember the opening ceremony of this year's Winter Olympics in Pyeongchang Stadium in Korea. The beautiful opener, broadcast simultaneously to 200 countries and themed "Peace in Motion," contained a number of entertainments. We were treated to 2000 fireworks, performances by a cast of 2000 including musicians. The augmented reality and 5G technology was nothing short of stunning. Yet all of that massive project was dependent on electric power, without which the entire show would have shut down.
In today's gospel [John 2:13-22], Jesus goes to the Temple in Jerusalem, uses a whip to drive out the bankers as well as all the sacrificial animals, and dumps their money on the floor by turning over the tables. Jesus has just made it impossible to buy the animals necessary for the required sacrifices and impossible to change money into the temple currency required to pay tithes. Jesus has stopped the game.
Clearly the issue is corruption. This was nothing new. The ancient Talmud (body of Jewish law) warns against overcharging for animals and against rip-off currency exchange rates. Obviously the capitalists and bankers of Jesus' day didn't get the memo. So Jesus acts out God's divine anger over greed, hypocrisy, abuse of others, and disrespect for God. The late Presiding Bishop of our Church, John Hines, nailed it when he once observed that Jesus was not crucified for saying 'behold the lilies of the field' but rather for attacking the businessmen in the Temple. Jesus could have been just another player, a run-of-the mill rabbi, careful not to rock the boat, perhaps a member of the Jerusalem Chamber of Commerce. Instead he acted out how God feels about unbridled capitalism and, in so doing, signed his own death warrant.
By comparing today's text with the original story [Mark 11: 11, 15-17] we soon discover how the Johannine community has rewoven it to reflect their ideas. For here Jesus is made to speak about a new holy place: his body, the Word made Flesh. And now Jesus tells the crowd that if the Temple were completely destroyed he would rebuild it in three days. Naturally they will be depicted not understanding such words about his own resurrection nor could they anticipate how he will be the focus for Christian engagement of God, soon to be manifested sacramentally. John's community is supersessionist, portraying Christianity as supplanting Judaism rather than being, as Saint Paul said, grafted onto the Jewish vine. They fail to realize that God does not lie or go back on his promises. We see a hint of their anti-semitism in the exchange here between "the Jews" and Jesus (as if he weren't Jewish). In fact, the Jews themselves will also soon movee away from the Temple model in which God is appeased by the killing of animals and burning of cereal. They will offer a "sacrifice of the heart," manifested in the community life of the synagogue and in loving service of others. This is essentially the same selfless outreach to which we are called, fed by word and sacrament. Both traditions emphasize the same bottom line: love of God and love of our neighbour. The two great Covenants continue side-by-side in God's service.
In today's gospel [John 2:13-22], Jesus goes to the Temple in Jerusalem, uses a whip to drive out the bankers as well as all the sacrificial animals, and dumps their money on the floor by turning over the tables. Jesus has just made it impossible to buy the animals necessary for the required sacrifices and impossible to change money into the temple currency required to pay tithes. Jesus has stopped the game.
Clearly the issue is corruption. This was nothing new. The ancient Talmud (body of Jewish law) warns against overcharging for animals and against rip-off currency exchange rates. Obviously the capitalists and bankers of Jesus' day didn't get the memo. So Jesus acts out God's divine anger over greed, hypocrisy, abuse of others, and disrespect for God. The late Presiding Bishop of our Church, John Hines, nailed it when he once observed that Jesus was not crucified for saying 'behold the lilies of the field' but rather for attacking the businessmen in the Temple. Jesus could have been just another player, a run-of-the mill rabbi, careful not to rock the boat, perhaps a member of the Jerusalem Chamber of Commerce. Instead he acted out how God feels about unbridled capitalism and, in so doing, signed his own death warrant.
By comparing today's text with the original story [Mark 11: 11, 15-17] we soon discover how the Johannine community has rewoven it to reflect their ideas. For here Jesus is made to speak about a new holy place: his body, the Word made Flesh. And now Jesus tells the crowd that if the Temple were completely destroyed he would rebuild it in three days. Naturally they will be depicted not understanding such words about his own resurrection nor could they anticipate how he will be the focus for Christian engagement of God, soon to be manifested sacramentally. John's community is supersessionist, portraying Christianity as supplanting Judaism rather than being, as Saint Paul said, grafted onto the Jewish vine. They fail to realize that God does not lie or go back on his promises. We see a hint of their anti-semitism in the exchange here between "the Jews" and Jesus (as if he weren't Jewish). In fact, the Jews themselves will also soon movee away from the Temple model in which God is appeased by the killing of animals and burning of cereal. They will offer a "sacrifice of the heart," manifested in the community life of the synagogue and in loving service of others. This is essentially the same selfless outreach to which we are called, fed by word and sacrament. Both traditions emphasize the same bottom line: love of God and love of our neighbour. The two great Covenants continue side-by-side in God's service.
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