Lent Reflection: Jesus’ Story of Vulnerability is Our Story of Vulnerability

I find it fascinating the way in which the Gospel of Mark tells about the temptation of Jesus in the wilderness. In only two verses, Mark raises challenging theological questions by what the narrative does say as well as through what it does not say about Jesus’ temptation.

One interesting feature is that Mark’s account is much shorter than either Matthew’s or Luke’s, both of whom include details that are absent from Mark. I don’t have the space to rehearse all the explanations scholars propose as to why details are missing from Mark, but I can offer my own interpretation that gets at the heart of Mark’s theology.

In my view, the reason Mark’s temptation story is shorter than Matthew’s or Luke’s is not because Mark was less concerned for details. The purpose is to imply to the hearers of the story that Jesus faced temptations and trials throughout his life, and not just in a one-time encounter with Satan in the wilderness. Moreover, the shortness of Mark’s account of Jesus’ temptation also indicates to the readers that Satan was not the primary tempter of Jesus. 

The temptation of Jesus in the wilderness was not a single event which he overcame and that was it. No, Mark shows us through the remainder of the narrative that Jesus faced trials and temptations throughout his life, and most of these did not come from Satan, but from Jesus’ closest followers, and even Jesus’ own inner struggle.

Another interesting, but I think more theologically awkward trait peculiar to Mark’s story of Jesus’ temptation is the way Jesus is placed in the wilderness. The opening chapter of Mark reaches a crescendo at the baptism of Jesus, when we hear the voice from heaven express God’s pleasure with Jesus, calling him the Beloved Son, and when the Spirit of God comes upon Jesus. Yet, immediately, to use one of Mark’s favorite words, the same Spirit that came lovingly onto the Beloved Son, casts Jesus into the wilderness to be tempted.

Baptism and Temptation of Christ- Paolo Veronese (1580-82)

While both Matthew and Luke soften Mark’s rawness by saying that the Spirit led Jesus into the wilderness, Mark is clear to say that the Spirit of God threw Jesus into the wilderness for the explicit purpose of facing temptation. In other words, though he is proclaimed by God to be the Beloved Son, Jesus would not be protected from the vulnerability of being human, and God plays a direct role in Jesus’ experience of human vulnerability.

Whilst the traditional interpretation that Jesus had to face temptation to be the pure sacrifice for human sin might have some truth to it, and thus God allowed him to be tempted, I think the more theologically rich interpretation is that God was intentionally putting God’s future purpose at risk. 

By deliberately casting Jesus into the wilderness to be tempted, God was placing God’s purposes in the hands of the human Jesus, taking the risky chance that Jesus might fail.  And yes, it was entirely possible that Jesus could have failed, and we must admit that there is a measure of scandal to God’s providence in relation to the life of Jesus.

Yet, there is one other important piece of theology I have learned from the years I have spent with Mark. While the Gospel was written to tell the story of Jesus, it was not written to tell this story primarily for historical reasons. Mark’s story is not primarily a historical writing; it is firstly a theological narrative that was written to tell the story of Jesus as a paradigm for what it means to be a disciple. It is not a story distant from its audience. It is a narrative that forces its reader to be involved.

If we pay close attention to the plot of the narrative, we find that Jesus begins his life, if you will, at the point of baptism. From that point he travels the treacherous road of human existence, facing trials and temptations all along the way, until finally he meets a tragic end at his death on the cross. Mark’s story line functions as a guidebook for discipleship, and Jesus’ story of vulnerability is also our story of vulnerability.

Jesus’ temptations and trials, and the struggles he faced all along the journey, all serve to remind us that our lives are indeed uncertain and vulnerable. If Jesus’ story is our story, then following him means that we choose to walk the treacherous road of life, facing the struggles and the trials and temptations that are a part of human existence.  Whereas we can see the future hope of resurrection, as Jesus did, and the same Spirit that came upon Jesus also gives us strength, this does not ease the struggles and sufferings we face on the road that always leads to Jerusalem, the place of suffering and death.

Jesus’ story of vulnerability is also our story of vulnerability   

Ash Wednesday: Reflecting on the Vulnerability of Life

Today, Ash Wednesday, marks the beginning of the Season of Lent. There are many practices Christians carry out during this holy season; practices such as fasting and praying that are meant to draw us closer to God as we reflect on the last days of Jesus on this earth. But often we neglect these practices, and I think we may be particularly inclined to neglect these practices during times of stress and uncertainly like we are facing in our current situation.

Yet, now is the time that we should be considering the Season of Lent as a period in which we reflect on the vulnerability of life, as represented in Jesus’ last days on earth. The time of Lent should be a period in which we remind ourselves that life is full of uncertainty, as well as the hope of new life God offers to us.

We sometimes shy away from talking about the uncertainty and vulnerability of life, however, for when we do we think we are being distrustful and even faithless. Yet, the reality of life is that it is full of uncertainties. Indeed, to put it simply, there is a certainty to life’s uncertainties. Problems will come upon us, whether these are caused by our own choices or the actions of others and some of these problems can challenge our faith significantly.

There are several questions I think most of us who believe in God ask whenever we face life’s difficulties.  Where is God during uncertain times? How should we view life’s changes? What role does faith play during life’s changes? How do we pray through life’s uncertainties? How do we remain faithful during these times? What is God’s answer to life’s tragedies?

These are just a sampling of questions we may ask, some for which we can at least find a plausible answer, but others for which we may never find the solution. But they are important questions for us to ask, and asking them does not make us any less faithful in our belief in God than not asking them. In fact, I would venture to say that if we reject asking these questions, as if we are too pious to do so, then we are not being true to the one who faced his own doubts and fears on the night he was arrested.

As Christians, we are particularly guilty of assuming that all things should work out for us. And, when we and others encounter life’s struggles and tragedies, instead of asking and struggling with deeper theological questions with sheer honesty, we often voice standard, but hollow expressions about life and its uncertainties. We say things like, “God has everything under control,” “Everything will work out for the good,” “Jesus will take care of you,” and “God is teaching you something through this.”

These may seem to be helpful words of encouragement and advice, for they do offer some hope.  However, they also symbolize the wrong assumption we have that because we are Christian, things should work out for us. “Come to Jesus, and he will make your life better,” we often hear and say.

The reality is, however, that life is uncertain for all of us; believer and non-believer. Indeed, as followers of Jesus, why should we assume that our lives should be any less tragic than his own?  This is certainly not to say that we should be looking for suffering, as I think some often do. But we must be reminded that the Jesus we follow, the one whose last days we remember during Lent, suffered real evil, real pain, and real death. This should always remind us that suffering is a part of who we are as humans, and even God cannot always relieve our suffering.

I realize that orthodox Christianity has traditionally believed in a God who can do anything; a God who is all powerful. But when I reflect on the life of Jesus, I am inclined to believe that the traditional view of God does not seriously consider the vulnerability of human existence as represented in Jesus’ tragic death.  While we often speak about the sovereignty of God in terms of God’s omnipotence, perhaps we need to think more about God’s sovereignty in terms of God’s love; a love through which God makes it possible for God to experience our human pain.

During this particular Season of Lent, when we experience various challenges in life, and when we continue to see the suffering that happens in our world, let us be reminded that there are no simple theological answers to the problem of human pain, and providing simplistic answers is not being true to our faith. Rather, let us reflect on the suffering of Jesus as emblematic of our human struggle, as well as that event through which God has and continues to experience our sufferings.

           

Jesus' Inaugural Address

At one point in each of the Synoptic Gospels (Matthew, Mark, and Luke), Jesus enters the synagogue in his hometown of Nazareth. While Matthew and Mark place this scene later in Jesus’ ministry, Luke has Jesus in Nazareth’s synagogue early in Jesus’ ministry. In Luke’s Gospel, these are Jesus’ first public words. One could say that this is Jesus’ inaugural address in Luke, where he lays out his agenda as the Beloved Son of God who brings in the rule of God.

What is interesting about Luke’s version is that Jesus actually takes the scroll, finds the reading from Isaiah, and reads that portion:

“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,
    because he has anointed me
        to bring good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives
    and recovery of sight to the blind,
        to let the oppressed go free,
to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”(Luke 4:18-19)

But, what is important about this reading from Isaiah is that Jesus is not going rogue here; he situates his agenda within the prophetic tradition of Israel that emphasized the eschatological salvation that God had promised to bring about; an eschatological salvation that would bring about a reversal and a turning upside down of the norms of a society that favored the rich and powerful over the poor and oppressed.

In other words, Jesus understood Isaiah’s prophetic words as coming to fulfillment in his own coming and he understood his own agenda in terms of Isaiah’s prophecy. In that sense, Jesus centered his agenda on the Jewish Scripture, but not just any Scripture, but the one that placed emphasis on the reversal and turning upside down of the norms of a world that placed authority in the hands of a few and that treated the poor, the sick, the lame, and others with disdain, suspicion, and oppression.

While we should not push Jesus’ use of this particular reading from the prophet as giving us a full picture of how Jesus read and interpreted Scripture, I do think it is important, at least for Luke, that Jesus’ reading of this particular passage and his application of the passage to himself at the beginning of his ministry tells us something about what the author of this Gospel was saying about Jesus. Jesus’ agenda would side with the poor over the rich, with the oppressed over the oppressors, and with the sick over the well.

Indeed, if we jump over a couple of chapters in Luke we find Jesus saying these words:

Looking at his disciples, he said:
"Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God.
Blessed are you who hunger now, for you will be satisfied.
Blessed are you who weep now, for you will laugh.

"But woe to you who are rich, for you have already received your comfort.
Woe to you who are well fed now, for you will go hungry.
Woe to you who laugh now, for you will mourn and weep.
Woe to you when all men speak well of you,
for that is how their fathers treated the false prophets. (Luke 6:20-21; 24-25)

Jesus’ inaugural address at Nazareth, and his agenda that he sets forth there, challenges the powers that be. It challenges the status quo of a world that is built on authority that favors the rich, powerful, and influential and forgets those on the margins of society. Indeed, in all three accounts of this event in Nazareth’s synagogue, the people are perplexed, offended, and in Luke, enraged at what Jesus has to say.

But why? Why would they be enraged to the point of wanting to cast him off a cliff?

http://liturgy.slu.edu/4OrdC020313/main.html

Perhaps the simple answer may be the one that still rings true for us when we hear Jesus say certain things. As Mark tells of the response of those who hear Jesus in the synagogue, he says they took offense at him; literally they were scandalized by Jesus. And so are we.

We may not want to take Jesus to the edge of a cliff and toss him off, and we may not speak ill of Jesus when we consider the words he spoke and the actions he carried out concerning the rule of God, for that, for us, would be sacrilegious, even blasphemous. No, we would not do these things. Instead, we just ignore what Jesus says or try to explain it all away.

What I think Jesus’ inaugural address confronts us with is our own unwillingness to take up his agenda instead of our own. Our agendas are filled with self-preservation instead of self-sacrifice. Our agendas are filled with superiority instead of humility. Out agendas are filled with power instead of empathy. Our agendas are filled with fear of the other instead of faith in God. Our agendas are filled with the Jesus we create instead of the Jesus that comes to us through the Gospels.
 

Our Jesus is our ally in the face of our enemies.  He is always on our side, answering our prayers and blessing us. This Jesus tells us what we want to hear, makes us comfortable, even complacent, and looks pleasingly at our self-righteousness. 

This Jesus we create in our own minds and answers to our demands and specifications. He permits us to wage unjust violence against our enemies in the name of national security. He allows us to hoard money and possessions in the name of financial security. He consents to our prejudices against people of other races, genders, nationalities, sexual orientations, and religions in the name of cultural security.

This Jesus is the one who gives us easy teachings that fail to challenge us to think outside our own insular lives. This Jesus, and indeed, this form of Christianity, settles on the simplistic answers that comfort our minds, but that fall short of calling us to authentic discipleship. Yes, this Jesus, the easy Jesus is the one we prefer; the one we can affirm and worship.

But this is not the Jesus we find in Luke 4 or in other parts of the Gospels.  

This is the Jesus that calls us to turn the other cheek, to love our enemies, to sell all we have and give to the poor, and to take up the cross and follow him.   

This is the Jesus who calls us to reach out to others and cross the boundaries of race, religion, culture, and gender and all the other socially constructed ways we have created to divide humanity.  

This is the Jesus that dined with tax collectors, beggars, diseased, and various persons of questionable social standing.   

This is the Jesus who compels us to repent of our insular lives and to commit ourselves to work for justice, peace, and hope in our world. 

This is the Jesus who set forth his agenda in his Nazareth inaugural address; an address that set forth not his own agenda for himself, but the agenda that he called his followers to live and fulfill.

For those of us who are Christian, we must always remember that we can be both faithful to the kingdom of God and good citizens of our country; indeed we must be both. But, our ultimate allegiance must be to Jesus and his agenda of bringing good news to the poor, proclaiming release to the captives, and setting free the oppressed.
   
Today, a new President of the United States will take the oath of office and take his place as the new leader of our country and the free world. He will set forth his own agenda through his inaugural address. Let us listen closely to see how much his agenda cares for the least of these, and more importantly, that his actions in the coming days demonstrate a commitment for justice- the kind of justice for which Jesus gave his life.

           

           

Jesus and God’s Economy

It is often said that Jesus had more to say about money than any other subject. From his statements about wealth and possessions, to his parables about agriculture and land, to his calling his followers to invest in treasures in heaven, Jesus’ teachings are replete with the theme of wealth and possessions. We might say that Jesus was, to some extent, an economist.

By saying that Jesus was an economist, I don’t mean that Jesus was an economist in the sense that you and I think of an economist. Jesus did not earn a degree in economics. He was not a major investor in the Roman economy. And, he wrote no book on the issue of financial success. But, he had a great deal to say about economics, and specifically how he envisioned God’s economy.

But what do we mean by God’s economy? Our modern word, “economy”, really has more to do with profits and losses and wages and benefits. It is concerned with trade deficits and budget deficits. It is focused on unemployment and welfare, and a host of other issues. All of these are legitimate concerns in a modern day economy like our own, but this is not exactly what is meant when talking about God’s economy.

Before we move to unpack what we might mean by God’s economy, we need to dispel some fallacies that I think are ingrained our cultural subconscious. First, while the idea is popular among religious conservatives, Jesus was not a capitalist, and his teachings should not be interpreted as being specifically supportive of capitalism.

It is hard to believe that Jesus even would have been a capitalist since he sided with the poor over the rich, and he gave up worldly possessions and called others to do the same. So, when some Christians want to argue that the Bible and Jesus support capitalism as God’s ordained way of doing economics, they are sadly mistaken.

Second, one can be a follower of Christ and be a capitalist or a socialist. Following Jesus is not about one’s concept of the best form of modern day economics, despite those same religious conservatives saying the opposite in recent years. We should never equate any political or economic ideology, such as capitalism or socialism, with being Christian or non-Christian.

Again, this is not to say that Jesus was not concerned with economics, for he clearly was. So, in considering what Jesus said and did that defined God’s economy, perhaps the idea we should dispel the most goes back to the word economy, and what exactly this word means. 

The Greek word from which we get our English word economy is oikonomia. The word means house-law, or perhaps better, house rules or management. It would have been used to talk about a family managing their household. But this would apply to more than simply managing the finances of the home.

If we consider, then, that Jesus was concerned with the economy, that is managing the household, we should ask exactly what this means. We could take it as Jesus talking about individual households and families taking care of their own business and managing their own affairs. But this seems a bit limiting, particularly when Jesus does not appear to be concerned with the financial success of individual families.

What if we consider Jesus to be talking about all of creation as God’s household?  This, at least from my reading of scripture, seems to make sense, and I think the story of creation from Genesis captures this idea wonderfully. We are told that the representatives of humanity were to care for the garden in which God had placed them. They were charged with caring for God’s household, and specifically with caring for each other.

And this, it appears, is how Jesus views God’s economy; an economy that is not so much concerned with profits, but with the welfare of all.

Economic systems that are focused on profits are inherently inconsistent in the effects on the lives of people within a society, for they create the haves and the have-nots. But God’s economy, as envisioned by Jesus, confronts the economies of the world with their inherent inconsistencies toward humanity that caused some to be rich and others to be poor, and judges them as unjust.

What is needed to move our economics in line with God’s economy is more fairness and equality.

When Paul was writing to the Corinthians to ask them to share with those in Jerusalem who were experiencing famine, he based that appeal on what Christ had done for them by becoming poor so that they could become rich. Paul was, of course, speaking of a spiritual richness.

But, he also understood that the economy of God was about justice and fairness, and in calling the Corinthians to give up some of their wealth for the benefit of others, Paul said,

I do not mean that there should be relief for others and pressure on you, but it is a question of a fair balance between your present abundance and their need, so that their abundance may be for your need, in order that there may be a fair balance. As it is written, "The one who had much did not have too much, and the one who had little did not have too little." (2 Cor. 8:13-15)

Both Jesus and Paul understood that God was concerned with more than the spiritual welfare of people, and Jesus’ message was certainly more about economics than we often admit. But they also understood that God’s economy was about fairness and justice, particularly towards the poor.

Christians can disagree as to how we create an economy that is more just and fair, but we cannot deny that Jesus was very clear about what constituted God’s vision of a just and fair economy. It was not the greedy accumulation of wealth that left others poor and destitute. It was the viewing of wealth and possessions as that which God graciously gives to some so that they might share with others.

The test of faithfulness is always in how we treat the vulnerable of society. Christians who seek to follow Jesus in authentic discipleship should strive for the fulfillment of God’s economy in which the one who has much does not have too much, and the one who has little does not have too little.

Unexpected Guests: An Epiphany Reflection

Today on the Christian calendar is Epiphany. Epiphany is the culmination of the Advent/Christmas Season and the Twelve Days of Christmas. This day is also known as Three Kings’  Day, which tells us that the purpose of this day is to remember and celebrate the coming of the Magi to see and pay homage to the Christ Child.

Of course, we are familiar with the traditional images of the Magi. We mostly see these guys in Nativities that blanket home and church yards at Christmas, and we experience them in Christmas productions, sometimes with elaborate fanfare that surely surpasses the original story. But what do we really know about these Magi?

You might be surprised to know that much of what we believe about the Magi has developed through tradition and is not really found in the Gospels. There exists a manuscript from the 8th century, which could possibly be a copy of a text that originated in perhaps the 2nd or 3rd centuries, that claims to be an eyewitness account of the visit of the Magi. And while this text, called the Revelations of the Magi, offers interesting details about these men and their visit to Jesus, it is highly unlikely that we can take it as historical.

Adoration of the Magi by Botticelli (1475)

Nevertheless, the Magi have taken on a bit of mystique of their own that is perhaps unequaled by any of the characters we associate with Jesus’ birth. But, there are some things that we have traditionally believed about the Magi that are certainly up for debate. For example, we do not know how many there were, from where they actually traveled, what exactly the star was, how long it took them to arrive in Bethlehem, and exactly how old Jesus was at the time of their visit.

All of these questions are certainly intriguing, and these are somewhat important issues for historians, but whether their travel to Bethlehem is a historical reality or not, for most of us who desire to find great meaning in this story about these mysterious visitors to Jesus, we are left to read about their visit from Matthew’s Gospel.

Matthew's Gospel is the only Gospel to include this story, and in doing so, he must have had some purpose in telling this tale about these unexpected guests; a purpose that perhaps offers something of significance to modern readers.

The story can be read as having various intentions and layers of meanings that could lead readers to different understandings of this narrative. For one thing, these are the first Gentiles to receive the news of Jesus’ birth, which says a great deal about what the author of Matthew believes about the scope of God’s love for the world.

Moreover, the stark difference between the Magi’s response to Jesus and that of Herod says something about Jesus as a polarizing figure even before he becomes an adult.

Yet, I find one element of the story to be both intriguing and also relevant to the question of what God thinks about those who seek places of power.

In reading Matthew’s story about the Magi, we should note with some curiosity that when these men arrive in Bethlehem, they visit first with King Herod instead of making their way to Jesus. This seems to me to be a strange twist in the story. After all, if the star has led them this far, why does it not lead them directly to the place where Jesus is, without them having to stop by to visit King Herod?

Of course, these "wise men" eventually see the star again, and it does lead them to the exact spot where the Christ Child is, but not before they stop off at Herod’s Palace to see what he knows. Is Matthew perhaps saying something through this little narrative twist? It is certainly not the case that Herod has information about the birth of Jesus, so what purpose does Matthew have in telling us that the Magi go to Herod before they find Jesus?

To get at the answer to this question, we need first to understand who Herod was. Herod was the appointed king of Judea; appointed to this post by the Roman authorities. His rule over Judea, however, was illegitimate in the eyes of many Jews, and, at least from the perspectives of both John and Jesus, he was also not legitimate in the eyes of God.

From the narrator’s point of view, it seems that the purpose of the Magi’s visit to Herod may have been more than just to inquire into the whereabouts of Jesus, the one who is the born king of the Jews.

Indeed, by their very mention of one who is born king of the Jews, these Magi serve as mouthpieces for the narrator, who speaks from God’s point of view. Their declaration to Herod, the so-called appointed king of the Jews, is that his time on the throne is coming to an end. One who is born as king is certainly a more legitimate king than one who has been appointed. Herod’s response is one of fear, and rightly so.

We should also notice that when the Magi come to Herod, Matthew twice calls Herod, “king”. But, after the prophecy about the ruler from Judah who will come from Bethlehem to shepherd God’s people is read, Matthew drops the title “king” from Herod’s name. He is simply Herod.

This switch in the way the narrator refers to Herod seems to be no accident. By dropping the title king from Herod’s name, the Gospel writer is demonstrating that Herod is no longer the king of the Jews; indeed he really never was. Even though he still acts as a ruthless ruler, his kingship is illegitimate in the eyes of God.

The Adoration of the Kings by Niccolo di Massio (1423)

Thus, these Magi are unexpected and unwelcomed guests in Herod’s Palace, for they bring him news that his time as the ruler of the Jews is coming to an end, for the one they seek by the sign of the star is the born and legitimate king of the Jews.

Moreover, the prophecy that Matthew mentions speaks of a ruler who will shepherd God’s people.  The image of the shepherd should not be overlooked at this point, as it carries with it rich meaning throughout the biblical narrative.

The long standing command of God to those in leadership over God’s people was for leaders to be shepherds over the people, which meant that they were to lead and guide with compassion and justice. It meant that rulers were charged with making sure that those on the margins of society were cared for.

Israel’s leaders, however, like Herod, did not always heed the command of God to lead with justice. At times they ruled for selfish gain, failing in their God-ordained role as shepherds over the people. I am reminded of Ezekiel’s prophecy against the rulers of Israel when he declares that they had failed to be shepherds, and thus they had fallen under the judgment of God.

The visit of the Magi reminds us that the rulers and powers of this world are not the true authorities over God’s cosmos, and this is particularly true for governments, kings, dictators, and anyone who seeks to rule with illegitimate, unjust, and oppressive power.

Herod had failed as king, for he was simply the appointed king, placed there as the illegitimate king by an illegitimate empire. He was no shepherd over God’s people, and his rule was one of injustice and ruthless power, which Matthew represents through his story of Herod ordering the killing of all male children under the age of two; an event that cannot be verified, but a story that nevertheless illustrates what the author thought of Herod as king.

For Matthew, the one who has been born, the Christ Child, is the legitimate king of God’s people. He is the Good Shepherd who will shepherd God’s flock.

Whatever we might think about the historicity of the Magi’s visit, from the perspective of the only Gospel writer that tells of their journey, these unexpected guests were not the bearers of good news to Herod. They were messengers of doom for Herod and any ruler that does not rule with compassion and justice.

(This is a shorter version of a sermon preached on 1/5/14 at First Presbyterian Church, Monticello, Arkansas. You can listen to an audio version here.)