Coming Attractions March 13 – 19 (Week of 2 Lent, Year 2)

Leave a reply

The readings are listed in the Book of Common Prayer p.953, and appear on various websites including Forward Movement, Mission St Clare.

Genesis 41:14-43:34 The action slows to allow us to observe and wonder about the changing choices the protagonists make, even the self-contradictory ones (naming one’s son “Manasseh” in celebration of forgetting). It looks like the narrator is constrained also by knowledge of Egypt’s economics, so that while there’s silence re whether the people are paid for the grain collected, we’re told that they must pay to get it back.

1 Corinthians 4:8-7:24 These chapters provide opportunity to wonder about multiple issues. For example, the role of our context in determining what we find self-evident, what we find surprising and/or objectionable. (In my time in Latin America, the surprising text was 7:4, specifically “the husband does not have authority over his own body”!) For example, strategies for dealing with behavior that threatens communion. I wonder about 5:11: is there tension between this strategy and Jesus’ practice with Judas (cf. John 12:6), who finally self-expels from the Twelve?

Mark 3:7-5:20 William Faulkner: “The past is never dead. It’s not even past.” We might notice the ways Faulkner’s observation plays out in these stories, e.g., the role of the past in the formation of the different soils the word encounters (4:1ff). Or, we might take Jesus’ “Have you still no faith?” (4:40) as an invitation to review the preceding stories: is the question/complaint justified? In what circumstances might Jesus direct that question to us? Finally, the exorcisms, usually not part of our experience. M. Scott Peck’s People of the Lie is a helpful entry point.

The First Sunday in Lent: A Sermon

Leave a reply

Readings

I wonder how Zechariah, Elizabeth, Mary, Joseph, Simeon, Anna, John and Jesus (the folk in Luke’s first chapters) heard our reading from Deuteronomy. It’s a celebration of a good harvest and of God’s deliverance in the exodus and gift of the good land. But that was hardly their experience: Israel had spent centuries in the belly of foreign empires. In Ezra’s words: “Here we are, slaves to this day– slaves in the land that you gave to our ancestors to enjoy its fruit and its good gifts. Its rich yield goes to the kings whom you have set over us because of our sins; they have power also over our bodies and over our livestock at their pleasure, and we are in great distress” (Neh. 9:36-37).

Hearing that Deuteronomic text probably involved some combination of pain over what had been lost and hope that God’s mighty hand and outstretched arm could again intervene. That’s the hope for a new exodus, a new Davidic heir, a new deliverance expressed in Mary’s Magnificat and Simeon’s prayer.

I wonder how they heard Psalm 91. “…my God in whom I put my trust.” Trust is tricky. Encouraged by Isaiah, King Hezekiah trusted, and God delivered Jerusalem from the Assyrian army. Just over a century later Jerusalem, ignoring Jeremiah’s calls to stop exploiting the poor, trusted that God would again deliver Jerusalem (“The Temple of the Lord! The Temple of the Lord!”), and watched the Babylonian army destroy Jerusalem and dethrone the Davidic dynasty. The Maccabean heroes started out proclaiming their trust in God, and ended up as fat and happy clients of the Roman Empire. Trust is tricky.

Over to Jesus. Luke tells us that while Jesus was praying after his baptism “the heaven was opened, and the Holy Spirit descended upon him in bodily form like a dove. And a voice came from heaven, ‘You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased’” (3:21-22), which rather sounds as though it’s heralding that new exodus, that new Davidic heir, that new deliverance. So, no pressure.

What does trust mean for Jesus? That, after forty days of fasting, begins to be sorted out in an interview with the diabolos, the ‘accuser’ or ‘slanderer’, that cynic who assumes the worst about humanity.

There are many ways of unpacking what’s going on in that interview, what’s at stake, and over the years you’ve probably heard many of them. So, with no interest in reinventing the wheel, let me simply recall a couple of them.

“Son of God.” If we focus on its Davidic/Messianic dimension, the interview is about how this son of David will operate. The editors of the David stories in Samuel noticed the moments in which David had the choice of receiving or grasping. The former, receiving, e.g., kingship, turned out well. David let the kingship come to him on God’s terms, and repeatedly refused to kill Saul.  The latter, grasping, e.g., Bathsheba, not so well. The interview easily reads as offering Jesus the same choice: are the kingdoms of the world something Jesus is going to grasp, or receive from the Father—in the Father’s time and way?

Grasp or receive. A question for Jesus, but also for Jesus’ followers. So there’s some logic to reading this text the first Sunday of Lent. Where might we notice that we’re grasping? “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways my ways, says the LORD” (Isa. 55:8). What are the situations in which we judge that to be a defect in God?

Let’s pull back the camera a little. “The devil is in the details,” we say. And in this interview the devil wants to get the details right, because with a little fine tuning even the presence of Jesus, the Son of God, need not disturb the status quo. And as long as Jesus’ church doesn’t disturb the status quo, doesn’t embody an alternative to the lies and jockeying for power that deform our institutions, the devil’s content.

We might put it this way. I imagine Jesus hearing Mary’s song repeatedly as he was growing up:

He has shown strength with his arm;
he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts.
He has brought down the powerful from their thrones,
and lifted up the lowly;

Jesus recognizes—with the help of Deuteronomy, the source of all his replies—that the devil’s suggestions would put him on a sidetrack, set him up to be no more than an improved model of King Herod. From this perspective, the text—with the Magnificat as the audio bed—invites us to remember our calling. God’s mighty hand and outstretched arm—Jesus—intervenes not simply so that we survive, but so that we help heal our world.

Not simply so that we survive, but so that we help heal our world.

Coming Attractions March 6 – 12 (1st Sunday in Lent Year 2)

Leave a reply

The readings are listed in the Book of Common Prayer p.953, and appear on various websites including Forward Movement, Mission St Clare.

Genesis 37:1-41:13 We begin close to four weeks with Joseph and his family. After Cain & Abel, Esau & Jacob, etc. what happens this time around? For the post-Moses/Exodus audience, Egypt is a freighted setting: Abram gets out by the skin of his teeth (Gen 12:10ff); what will happen to Joseph?

For Gen 37, recall that Rachel, Joseph’s mother, dies in Gen 35. Recalling the crucial role of mothers in protecting their sons (Sarah and Isaac, Rebekah and Jacob), her absence leaves Joseph vulnerable in multiple ways.

The Lectionary omits, oddly, Gen 38. It’s worth reading in sequence not only because Tamar appears in Jesus’ genealogy (Mt 1:3), but also because it increases the dramatic tension (what will happen to Joseph?) and because it provides a counterpoint to the action in both Gen 37 (37:32-33//38:25-26) and Gen 39 (Potiphar’s wife’s and Tamar’s choices). In passing, 38:26 presents Tamar’s actions as an important model of what it means to be a tsaddiq (to be righteous). (By the way, 39:19: why does Potiphar become enraged?)

1 Corinthians 1:1-4:7 Murphy-O’Connor recalls the Greco/Roman proverb “Not for everyone is the voyage to Corinth,” i.e., “only the tough survived at Corinth” (New Interpreter’s Dictionary of the Bible I.734). Paul, having planted a church there, is now working on the more difficult task of ongoing conversion (we are in Lent, after all): which survival skills need to be modified or simply jettisoned? What does Christ crucified do to our easy assumptions about what counts as wisdom or folly?

Mark 1:1-3:6 The Phariseestend tofare badly in the Christian imaginations, so it’s worth noticing that of all the groups the Gospels identify (the Herodians, the Sadducees, the Zealots, etc.) it’s only the Pharisees that Jesus bothers arguing with. The Pharisees—very roughly—a lay renewal movement that asked how holiness could be freed from the temple precincts to transform daily (secular) life. So when the Pharisees get it wrong, it’s likely that they’re getting it wrong in ways that anticipate the ways Christians will get it wrong. They can serve as a mirror, and in Lent mirrors aren’t bad things to have. Since the Lectionary has juxtaposed these chapters of Genesis and Mark, consider Tamar and Jesus as two paradigmatic tsaddiqs. How do they deal with the choices and demands the powerful around them are making?

Ash Wednesday 2022

Leave a reply

A couple weeks back in one of our Zoom gatherings at St. Dunstan’s as soon as the conversation turned to Lent someone responded in the chat area “I’m not ready for Lent!” We can, I think, all sympathize. Between Ukraine, COVID 19, inflation and our domestic polarization, it feels like the last thing we need is to switch from green to purple.

So it’s worth remembering that the One who invites us into this Lent is the One who said “Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light” (Matt. 11:28-30).

And closely aligned with these words, the words from our psalm:

3 He forgives all your sins *
and heals all your infirmities;
4 He redeems your life from the grave *
and crowns you with mercy and loving-kindness;
8 The Lord is full of compassion and mercy, *
slow to anger and of great kindness.

So what, we might ask, is the problem? It’s like, I think, that story of the fellow hiking in the mountains. His foot slips, he goes over the edge, and just manages to grab hold of a root—and looking down is not a good idea. He calls for help and is answered by a celestial voice: “Don’t be afraid. I’ll help you. Let go of the root.” The guy thinks a long moment and then responds “Is anyone else up there?”

That’s the work of Lent. What’s the root or the roots that I’m hanging onto that keep me from receiving more fully God’s mercy and loving-kindness? It might have something to do with the last verses in the Gospel, where I’m storing up treasure, whether—as the text explores past what we read—my use of my resources is mirroring God’s generosity. Whether my eye is stingy or generous is a pretty good clue re what I trust for my security. What are my preferred roots? The work of Lent.

But back to Jesus. The difference between our situation and that of the dangling hiker is that Jesus comes alongside us: “You don’t have to do this alone. We can do it together.” For what is the story that we hear throughout the Church year if not the story of Jesus letting go of all the roots on offer, and inviting us to come along?

Coming Attractions February 27— March 5 (Last Epiphany Year 2)

Leave a reply

The readings are listed in the Book of Common Prayer p.951, and appear on various websites including Forward Movement, Mission St Clare.

Old Testament. The Old Testament readings range widely, usually with some connection to the themes of Ash Wednesday. We might take the closing verse from the first Ezekiel reading as a sort of basso continuo for the whole week: “For I have no pleasure in the death of anyone, says the Lord GOD. Turn, then, and live” (18:32).

Philippians 2:1-4:23. Paul’s “be of the same mind” uses the verb phroneō, characteristically associated with practical reasoning. Fowl paraphrases “by manifesting a common pattern of thinking and acting,” which pattern is seen paradigmatically in Jesus (2:5-11). Quite intentionally, this Jesus-shaped pattern visibly plays out/doesn’t play out/is encouraged to play out in pretty much all the folk who appear in the book: Timothy, Epaphroditus, Paul himself, the dogs, Euodia, Syntyche, us readers.

Fowl thinks this pattern is part of the friendship with God and others into which we’re invited, citing Dorotheos of Gaza: “Suppose we were to take a compass and insert the point and draw the outline of a circle.… Let us suppose that this circle is the world and that God is the center; the straight lines drawn from the circumference to the center are the lives of [humans]… But at the same time, the closer they are to God, the closer they become to one another; and the closer they are to one another, the closer they become to God” (p.214). (While I’ve read Philippians many times, it never occurred to me that Paul might be talking about friendship. Still chewing on that.)

In passing, “though” in “who, though he was in the form of God” (2:6) is inserted by the translators. They might equally justifiably have inserted “because.” The text is about Jesus; it’s equally about God, what it means to be God. (See, particularly, Gorman’s Inhabiting the Cruciform God.)

And, as unbelievable in the 21st century as it was in the 1st, Paul thinks this looking to the interests of others (2:4) is the path to joy.

The jarring juxtapositions of the Roman penal system and joy in the letter might recall Screwtape’s diatribe in C. S. Lewis’ The Screwtape Letters:

He’s a hedonist at heart. All those fasts and vigils and stakes and crosses are only a façade. Or only like foam on the sea shore. Out at sea, out in His sea, there is pleasure, and more please. He makes no secret of it; at His right hand are ‘pleasures for evermore’” (Letter XXII).

Gospels. The Lectionary offers engaging selections:

  • Sunday: Peter’s confession and Jesus’ first passion prediction (immediately preceding the Transfiguration, which we hear today from the [Eucharistic] Lectionary)
  • Monday-Tuesday: Scenes from the fulfillment of that passion prediction
  • Wednesday: A sort of dummy’s guide to Ash Wednesday
  • Thursday-Saturday: As we enter Lent, Jesus praying for us

Coming Attractions Feb 20-26 (7 Epiphany Year 2)

Leave a reply

The readings are listed in the Book of Common Prayer p.949, and appear on various websites including Forward Movement, Mission St Clare.

Genesis? The Lectionary pauses the Genesis readings until the first week in Lent.

Proverbs 1:20-8:36. Israeltended to view the people’s accumulated wisdom as one of God’s primary media of instruction, the priests and prophets being the other two (Jer 18:18; Ezek 7:26). While Proverbs is ascribed to Solomon (1:1), it likely received its definitive shape in the post-exilic period, when Persian and Hellenistic globalization threatened to make “The fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge” a dated provincial opinion. So Proverbs focuses on the imagination; see the world this way: Dame Wisdom, God’s confidant, patiently and lovingly wooing all to pay patient attention, to trust—it’s by no means obvious—that “the upright will abide in the land, / and the innocent will remain in it; / but the wicked will be cut off from the land, / and the treacherous will be rooted out of it” (2:21-22). It’s an attempt to chart a course that doesn’t end in the ambiguities of Ecclesiastes (“all is vanity”) or the violence of the Maccabees. It ends up laying the groundwork for the Gospel of John’s account of the Word (logos) made flesh (Prov 8:22-31; Jn 1:1-18).

1 John 3:18-5:21. “In this is love, not that we loved God but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the atoning sacrifice for our sins. Beloved, since God loved us so much, we also ought to love one another.” Amen.

If we wonder who the author meant by “one another,” scholars (predictably) differ, but, as noted before, “brothers and sisters” looks more likely, “brothers and sisters” in turn denoting those who share the belief described by the author. In NT usage, ‘brother’ and ‘neighbor’ do not appear to be interchangeable, and neither the Gospel of John nor the epistle speak of love of neighbor. What then? Enter Ignatius, who, at the beginning of the Spiritual Exercises writes “every good Christian ought to be more eager to put a good interpretation on a neighbor’s statement than to condemn it.” And if the “good interpretation” goes against the grain of the author’s evident intention? That’s the challenge the epistle poses for this reader.

Coming at this from another angle, here’s Solzhenitsyn in The Gulag Archipelago: “If only there were evil people somewhere insidiously committing evil deeds, and it were necessary only to separate them from the rest of us and destroy them. But the line dividing good and evil cuts through the heart of every human being. And who is willing to destroy a piece of his own heart?” It is easy to see the speck in the epistle’s eye…

John 11:17-12:26. The raising of Lazarus, the Council’s plotting, the anointing at Bethany, the triumphal entry, the Greeks’ petition: much to wonder about here. For example, “You know nothing at all! You do not understand that it is better for you to have one man die for the people…” After Lazarus’ raising, why does Caiaphas assume that Jesus is going to stay dead? “Very truly, I tell you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain; but if it dies, it bears much fruit.” Who and what needs to die? Reading John together with 1 John, and recalling Solzhenitsyn, it looks like all of us—including the Gospel writers—struggle to figure that out.

The Sixth Sunday after the Epiphany: A Sermon

Leave a reply

Readings

What might the Spirit be saying to us in these readings?

Let’s start with Paul on Jesus’ resurrection from our second reading. “If Christ has not been raised…” What’s at issue here? Paul gives multiple answers to the question; here’s one of them: “If the dead are not raised, ‘Let us eat and drink, for tomorrow we die’” (v. 32). If Christ has not been raised this [our presence in this Mass] requires a special kind of stupid. Another answer implicit in the text: If Christ has not been raised, then this world doesn’t matter. It’s disposable. But Christ raised—that’s God’s strongest statement that this world matters, that this world has a future.

The Gospel describes that future. Jesus’ words are surprising, by many accounts nonsense. No one wants to be poor, hungry, etc., and those who are poor, hungry, etc. are not obviously blessed or happy. So the verb tenses are important: “Blessed are you who are hungry now, for you will be filled.” This future is not simply a continuation of the present. And perhaps a better translation than ‘blessed’ or ‘happy’ is ‘fortunate’: as in you’ve got the winning lottery ticket.

But wait! How can Jesus be pronouncing the poor etc. fortunate and the rich etc. unfortunate? How, for that matter, could his mother sing “He has brought down the powerful from their thrones, / and lifted up the lowly; / he has filled the hungry with good things, / and sent the rich away empty” (Lk. 1:52-53)? Here we need to pull the camera back, say, to Psalm 82. It’s short; I’ll read it.

1 God has taken his place in the divine council;
in the midst of the gods he holds judgment:
2 “How long will you judge unjustly
and show partiality to the wicked?
3 Give justice to the weak and the orphan;
maintain the right of the lowly and the destitute.
4 Rescue the weak and the needy;
deliver them from the hand of the wicked.”
5 They have neither knowledge nor understanding,
they walk around in darkness;
all the foundations of the earth are shaken.
6 I say, “You are gods,
children of the Most High, all of you;
7 nevertheless, you shall die like mortals,
 and fall like any prince.”
8 Rise up, O God, judge the earth;
for all the nations belong to you!

Within Holy Scripture this vision is an uncontested portrait of our world. Our world is usually unjust. While there are exceptions, the wicked, sinners, and scornful of Psalm 1 usually play an outsized role in making and interpreting our laws. The Golden Rule: those with the gold rule. So Jesus, with only some hyperbole, declares the poor, hungry, etc. fortunate and the rich, full, etc. unfortunate, because usually the poor are poor because of injustice and the rich are rich because of injustice.

Within Holy Scripture the benchmark for justice is the law of Moses, that law that this morning’s psalm celebrated. And there it’s clear that justice is both about how wealth is acquired and how wealth is stewarded. Acquired: only one set of weights and measures in the marketplace. Stewarded: “my” wealth is what I hold in trust for the community. Harvests are to be incomplete, so the poor have something to glean. In Deuteronomy all debts are cancelled every seven years. In Leviticus every fifty years there’s a Jubilee in which all return to their original tribal inheritance. Justice means nobody stays poor—or rich—indefinitely. [NB: this vision of justice aligns with the Native American critique of European society in the early dialogues, for which see Graeber & Wengrow The Dawn of Everything.]

Of course other factors influence where wealth or poverty cluster. Proverbs talks a lot about diligence and sloth, wise and foolish decisions. The larger environment plays a role, all those things over which we have no control: droughts, locusts, armies passing through. But when the Bible pulls back for the big picture (like Psalm 82, Mary’s Song, the Beatitudes), injustice is centerstage.

The poor, hungry, etc. of the Beatitudes are fortunate because God will respond to the prayer at Psalm 82’s end: “Rise up, O God, judge the earth; for all the nations belong to you!”

How do we respond to these texts? Before moving to our other readings, three observations. First, between Psalm 82 and the Beatitudes, to the degree that I’m rich, full, etc. it’s sheer folly to assume that that’s simply the result of my virtue. On the personal level, that might be. On the corporate level, no way. So one of our confessions speaks of “the evil we have done, and the evil done on our behalf.” We live on stolen land, our consumer goods are cheap because we’re happy to get them from countries that discourage trade unions—or use slave labor. Should we wish to move from confession to amendment of life, there’s plenty to keep us occupied.

Second, the two verses immediately following today’s Gospel reading: “But I say to you that listen, Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you.” So understandable as it might be, our response to the Beatitudes is not to take up the sword, to set ourselves up as judges.

Third, the poor, the hungry, etc. need to wait until Jesus’ return? Absolutely not. Jesus’ vision is that his church be the sphere in which his words are experienced to be true. Recall Jesus’ words to Peter: “Truly I tell you, there is no one who has left house or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or fields, for my sake and for the sake of the good news, who will not receive a hundredfold now in this age– houses, brothers and sisters, mothers and children, and fields with persecutions– and in the age to come eternal life” (Mk. 10:29-30). But from the start we’ve tended to downsize that vision, so Jesus’ brother James has to write:

What good is it, my brothers and sisters, if you say you have faith but do not have works? Can faith save you? If a brother or sister is naked and lacks daily food, and one of you says to them, “Go in peace; keep warm and eat your fill,” and yet you do not supply their bodily needs, what is the good of that? So faith by itself, if it has no works, is dead. (2:14-17)

[In other words, we’re used to hearing James’ words as an argument with Paul re the roles of faith and works. Perhaps equally at issue: whether the church incarnates Jesus’ communal vision, or is simply a group of folk each pursuing their individual salvation.] What’s the church for? (What’s faith for?) The Beatitudes can do wonders for our imagination.

Turning to Jeremiah and Psalm 1, we might hear that image of the tree planted by water as a strategy for life in the world as described both by Psalm 82 and by Jesus’ Beatitudes. It’s an unjust world, and God’s addressing that, but it’s not a quick fix. God’s playing a long game, and the image of the tree planted by water urges us to likewise play a long game. That can be hard. The trust on which Jeremiah focuses is the trust that God’s timetable is preferable to ours. (And, parenthetically, like Jeremiah we’re free to repeatedly bend God’s ear about that—as long as we’re willing to listen to how God might respond.)

Did you notice the chorus in today’s readings? Jeremiah: How fortunate/blessed/happy those who trust in the Lord. The Psalm: How fortunate/blessed/happy those who delight in the law of the Lord. Jesus: How fortunate/blessed/happy the poor. Why (bottom line)? God raised Christ from the dead. God has plenty of skin in the game, and, shifting the image, God regularly invites us to share His Body and Blood so that we play that game well.

“Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God. Blessed are you who are hungry now, for you will be filled. Blessed are you who weep now, for you will laugh. Blessed are you when people hate you, and when they exclude you, revile you, and defame you on account of the Son of Man.” Blessed are we as we continue to examine ourselves and make the choices that position us to together hear Jesus’ words as good news, to together experience Jesus’ words as good news.

Rise up, O God, judge the earth;
for all the nations belong to you!

Our God is responding to that prayer today, and invites us to join in that response today. We’ll let Isaiah take us out:

For you shall go out in joy, and be led back in peace;
the mountains and the hills before you shall burst into song,
and all the trees of the field—all us trees of the field—shall clap their hands. (55:12).

Coming Attractions: Daily Office Readings 6 Epiphany (Year 2)

Leave a reply

The readings are listed in the Book of Common Prayer p.949, and appear on various websites including Forward Movement, Mission St Clare.

Genesis 29:20-35:20. Jacob remains centerstage. The authors/editors obviously like a good story, but since the narrative is cool, not hot (McLuhan), there are plenty of gaps to fill in. For example, Gen 34: do we enjoy the Jacob’s sons’ (underdog) subterfuge, or weep over its violence?

At other points stories are paired: Isaac’s blindness and the switching of sons (Gen 27), Jacob’s blindness (in the dark) and the switching of daughters (Gen 29); what “seeing God” looks like (Gen 32:22ff and Gen 33:1-11).

Throughout we might wonder about that promise to Abram (“I will bless those who bless you, and the one who curses you I will curse; and in you all the families of the earth shall be blessed” 12:3). How is this working out (or not)? What has God gotten Godself into?

1 John 1:1-3:18. There are at least two reading strategies worth trying here. The first is a chosen naïveté: there are plenty of gems in the book; take one (e.g., “See what love the Father has given us, that we should be called children of God”) and sit with it for a good stretch.

The second is to wonder about the weird mix of tenderness and venom throughout. Scholars have various ways of trying to understand this (of course). I find Raymond Brown’s analysis convincing: a community that has understood itself in terms of the tradition represented by the Gospel of John has split, and in the book we hear the voice of the faction thatS eventually joined with the churches that were transmitting what became our New Testament. In contrast to the other Gospels, John does not encourage love for outsiders, and in I John we may be hearing those chickens coming home to roost.

John 9:1-11:16. There are different ways we can read situations. In 9:1-3 and 11:4 it looks like Jesus’ way is to ask what God is doing. Is the author focusing on this as a model for us?

Jn 9:39 (“I came into this world for judgment so that those who do not see may see, and those who do see may become blind.”): only then, or something that continues to play out? What of Jesus’ followers who claim to “see”?

“If you are the Messiah, tell us plainly” (10:24). In context that may be doubly ironic. First, because likely as not “I am the good shepherd” is a political declaration (see 2 Sam 5:2; Ps 78:71; Ezek 34:23). Second, because any attempt to slot Jesus into our carefully constructed taxonomies is likely to be counterproductive.

Coming Attractions: Daily Office Readings 5 Epiphany (Year 2)

Leave a reply

The readings are listed in the Book of Common Prayer p.947, and appear on various websites including Forward Movement, Mission St Clare.

Genesis. The action revolves around another pair of brothers, Esau and Jacob (recall Cain and Abel, Ishmael and Isaac!). Jacob, grasping from birth, distrustful (compare God’s generous promise and Jacob’s lawyerly response [28:13-15, 20-22]), and encountering a kindred soul in…Laban. Esau: Moberly provides the most interesting entry point into the cycle of stories I’ve encountered: “For those of us who feel ‘unfavored’ in terms of what we were born with, who wish we were other than what we are, learning to live well with what we are can be one of life’s greatest challenges.… The only questions that are fruitful are not of a backward-looking and rationalizing nature, but rather of a forward-looking and practical nature: ‘What can I/we/you/they do about this? What can I/we/you/they yet hope for?” (The God of the Old Testament) And it takes some time for Esau to sort this out.

Hebrews. This week we reach the end of this remarkable book, which throughout maintains a creative tension between celebrating God’s new and definitive act in Jesus which is simultaneously in the most profound continuity with this God’s prior acts. The long list of the Old Testament faithful (Heb 11): the author’s ground for confidence that “make you complete in everything good so that you may do his will” (v.21) is not whistling in the dark.

John. There are multiple ways we might come at these stories of conflict; here are two. (1) Abraham comes up repeatedly in chapter 8. Since we’ve just finished reading the Abraham stories, how might a closer reading of these stories checked Jesus’ audience’s confident “Abraham is our father”? (What happens if we read 8:1-11 together with the patriarchs’ habit of passing their wives off as their sisters [Gen 12:10ff; 20:1ff; 26:6ff?)

(2) There’s an old story from the early days of the evangelization of Northern Europe. A tribe agreed to baptism, but only on the condition that their sword arms stayed dry. Even among those who “believed” in Jesus (8:31) there were topics Jesus could address, topics that were verboten. We could do worse than use that as a mirror.

Reading the Fine Print

Leave a reply

We celebrate the Presentation of Jesus in the temple today as recorded in Luke 2:22-39. The “righteous and devout” Simeon plays a major role and his prayer (“The Song of Simeon”) enriches our prayers at the end of the day. Less used are his following words to Jesus’ mother: “This child is destined for the falling and the rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be opposed so that the inner thoughts of many will be revealed– and a sword will pierce your own soul too.” The Song serves to end one story (Simeon’s, each of our days), the words to introduce another. Or, we might say, the words serve as the fine print or warning label for the Song.

The Song sounds straightforward; the words warn that it’s anything but. In the Daily Office readings this comes through most clearly in Jesus’ words, “you will know the truth, and the truth will make you free,” a truth that—as the argument immediately following shows—destabilizes his followers’ assumptions and identities.

“A sword will pierce your own soul too.” Simeon gets it right, as does Annie Dillard: “It is madness to wear ladies’ straw hats and velvet hats to church; we should all be wearing crash helmets. Ushers should issue life preservers and signal flares; they should lash us to our pews. For the sleeping god may wake someday and take offense, or the waking god may draw us out to where we can never return” (Teaching a stone to talk).