Expecting the unexpected
Commentary
Object:
I have a confession to make -- I am a member of Packrats Anonymous. PA is a 12-step program for those of us who find it difficult to part with anything, no matter how useless it may seem to others. You may have heard of some of our members, like the guy who saved bits of string, tying end to end until he had a ball of string over six feet high. He was not really trying to create the world's largest ball of twine; it's just that like the rest of us he never knew when a certain length of string might come in handy.
One of the side effects of being a Packrat is that we are confined to living in the same residence for all of our life. It is not that we could not move if we wanted to, but rather that the expense of moving all of our accumulated treasures is prohibitive. Not only that, but we live in mortal fear that our spouses might take the occasion of such a move to weed out our storage units.
We do not hold yard sales -- we go to yard sales. It astounds us that other folks would actually be willing to part with items that might be needed for some unexpected project. And that is what makes us Packrats -- the belief that someday, somehow, somewhere we will need all 1,003 same-sized hex nuts we have stored up in mayonnaise jars.
We, the PAs of the world, always expect the unexpected.
Exodus 3:1-15
Chapter 3 of Exodus is one of those biblical passages so rich in material and possibilities that the preacher could spend an entire season with this text and still not exhaust its resources. First, there is the fire that would not go out. The burning bush, while certainly unexpected, was not really the main attraction of this encounter -- it was merely the means to an end. What is truly important is Moses' encounter with God. Yet what we most focus on and most remember is the burning bush, or to put it another way, too often we home in on the messenger to the neglect of the message. Against all odds a person recovers from a serious illness and friends and family celebrate the miracle, but fail to ask what it is God might be trying to say through the miracle. A prayer that has burdened the heart for a long time is finally answered, but beyond the answering one seldom wonders whether God might be saying more than what was expected. Life's burning bushes are the places where one encounters God and it is the encounter and not the burning bush that transforms the heart.
Moving on, I believe the most important verses in this chapter are verses 7 and 8. The entire pre-exodus account in the book of Exodus depicts a cosmic battle fought out on terra firma. In one corner you have the patriarchal God, recently revealed to Moses as YHWH. In the other corner there are the various deities worshiped by the Egyptians, represented by their iconographic manifestations of sun, Nile, bull, and so on. Even before the fireworks begin the reader is given a warning that this YHWH is no ordinary deity. Indeed, this God does what is inconceivable for any other god. Notice especially the action verbs used in these two verses. YHWH sees, hears, knows, and acts. Of special importance among these verbs is the one translated "know." As elsewhere in the Hebrew scriptures, this word implies an intimacy and might well be translated "to experience with." All of this is to fulfill a promise God made to Abraham, a promise likely forgotten by everyone but God.
In order for God to do what God desires, a human agent becomes necessary. This fact does not diminish God, but rather takes seriously God's intention in creation to make humankind dominion-sharers and image-bearers of God. It is not to argue that God cannot operate unilaterally; rather that more often than not God chooses not to operate unilaterally -- especially if one of God's human creatures can be persuaded to join God in the activity at hand. Thus, God called Moses and thus he continues to call to us to join with God in contemporary re-creative acts.
But Moses demurs. I do not believe that the protestations of Moses represent a false modesty or even untruthfulness. Moses fully understood himself to be a flawed individual, and I would suggest that God would have agreed with Moses in that assessment. Flawed individuals are the raw material from which God works -- for the simple reason that that is the only material available.
However, what I find more important than Moses' arguments are God's responses -- and these responses are not what one might expect. In response to Moses' "who am I" question, God responds that clarity and certainty will come when Moses returns to this same mountain with the people of Israel. In other words, certainty and confirmation will only come after the fact! Moses is to act in faith, not in certainty. He is to go as God leads, still full of doubts and self-questioning. Only when Moses completes the task for which he has been commissioned can he look back over the experience and say, "Yeah, God was in that." God treats us no differently. It is only in the doing that God is to be recognized -- everything else is the definition of faith.
As the first lesson points out, God's response to Moses' desire for a divine calling card is to provide a verb form combination that has proven terribly illusive to translators. Maybe what God is saying to Moses and to us is, "Hey, I am mystery -- get used to it." Short of that, however, my favorite take on God's name is "I will be what I have been." In other words, if anyone wants to know who I am, just have them take a look back over their history and they will understand. Remember when Abraham needed a road map? That was me. Remember when Isaac needed a stand-in sacrifice? That was me. Remember when Jacob needed a friend? That was me. Remember when Joseph needed protection? That was me. "What I have been," God said, "I will continue to be. Not just for now, but for all generations to come." This is the word of the LORD. Thanks be to God.
Romans 12:9-21
The apostle Paul is a study in contrasts. Much of the work done in Romans for the past several weeks has been an attempt to bring clarity out of an oftentimes confusing and contextually challenging letter. In today's passage, however, Paul could not be clearer about what it means. That clarity, nevertheless, does not make Paul's writing easier to swallow. Indeed, if praxis was the criteria by which one judged the difficulty of a passage, then today's text may be among the most difficult of all.
In each of his letters Paul moves from the theoretical (early in the letter) to the practical (later in the letter). In Romans that transition is made beginning with chapter 12. Any one of the admonitions of today's lesson is sufficient for an entire sermon, but there are several worthy of a closer look.
"Hate what is evil, hold fast to what is good." In an ideal world this admonition would not only make sense, but it would not be terribly difficult to follow. For most folks that which is clearly evil is detested and what is clearly good is embraced, but we do not live in an ideal world. Rather we live in a world where even the good is smeared with evil and where some redeeming value can be seen in most evil. The difficulty for the modern person is in trying to distinguish the good from the bad when the tentacles of one are so intertwined in the outreach of the other. The tendency of many serious church folk is either to be so focused on evil that they are unable to celebrate the relative good, or conversely to be so focused on seeing the positive in life that evil slips in under the moral radar. Paul invites his reader to struggle with the reality of both good and evil and to find a way to keep each in its proper perspective.
"Extend hospitality to strangers." In trying to calm the anxiety of a nation on edge, Franklin Roosevelt said, "We have nothing to fear, but fear itself." Our nation is once again on edge, only this time it seems that we have allowed our fears to conquer our better selves. This fearfulness is perhaps seen most clearly in how we respond to the stranger (the other; the one unlike how we are) among us. Specifically, this is seen in how have been invited by our leaders at times to regard the person of Middle Eastern descent: be cautious, report suspicious activity, be on guard against activity we might consider abnormal. By contrast, our faith encourages us to welcome the stranger, to practice hospitality, to extend ourselves toward others in a manner reciprocal to our own expectations. The question implicit in Paul is, "As followers of Christ are we going to be led by our fears or by our faith?"
"Do not be haughty, but associate with the lowly." There is an old saying that a person is known by the company that he/she keeps. Whenever my mother would remind me of this adage, it was always in the context of taking care not to hang out with those folks who would likely get me into trouble. Like so many others, I learned that lesson so well that now I only associate with "my kind of people." It is not that I consciously snub those who are economically, socially, educationally, or otherwise different than I am; it is just that I don't often think of them at all. This self-confession causes me a fair amount of dis-ease, but I suspect that if truth be told, I do not stand alone in my haughtiness.
"Do not repay anyone evil for evil." The last section of today's reading cautions us against acting as judge, jury, and executioner for those who act in hurtful and demeaning ways. The temptation is great to become like those we hate, and few there are who are able to overcome that temptation. As a nation we deplore the taking of innocent life, especially if we are the victims, while we defend as collateral damage civilian casualties caused by our own actions. We teach our children to fight back when confronted, all the while defending such teaching as in keeping with Christian principles. When do you suppose we will ever get around to practicing the last part of this passage, "If your enemies are hungry, feed them; if they are thirsty give them something to drink"? Or when will we do it without thinking that such kindness is just a more subtle form of vengeance?
No, Paul is not unclear in the passage. In fact, he is painfully clear.
Matthew 16:21-28
For a college instructor teaching first-year college students, one of the most challenging undertakings is moving a student from considering the factuality of an event or idea to considering the meaning of an event or idea. For instance, it is one thing to know that Pearl Harbor was attacked by Japan in December 1941; it is something else to know the significance of that event on US policy, politics, and self-consciousness.
Jesus had something of the same problem in moving the disciples from the factuality of his messiahship to the meaning and significance of that reality on those who chose to follow him. Today's passage follows hard on the heels of Peter's confession (speaking for his colleagues) that Jesus was the Messiah, the Promised One of God. Accepting that designation, Jesus proceeds to tell the disciples what that truth means for them.
Following this discourse, Peter takes Jesus aside in an effort to correct Jesus' messianic theology. For Peter, as for most messianic-minded Jews of that day, the advent of the Messiah meant the end of suffering, not more of it; it meant glorification, not humiliation; it meant subjecting the Roman overlords, not being further subjected by them; and it certainly did not involve death and resurrection. For Jesus, by contrast, messianic understandings meant above all obedience to God, even if that obedience led ultimately to the giving up of one's life. Jesus fully understood the disconnect between his understanding and that of his disciples, and he began to instruct them more fully about that which they only knew in part.
One question worth considering is whether Jesus in his response to Peter is referring to Peter as Satan or if Jesus saw a powerful satanic temptation in the idea to which Peter gave voice. In other words, is Jesus rebuking Peter or is he rebuking the idea of Peter? The point may seem insignificant, but I tend to think that there is an important difference between dismissing a person and dismissing that person's misconception.
Jesus then addresses the disciples reminding them that anyone who wishes to be considered a follower of his must understand the concepts underlying self-denial, cross-bearing, and "followship." These are not new concepts to us moderns -- any cursory reading of the gospels will bring the reader into repeated contact with these claims. As facts, we understand them. About how these "facts" play out in the life of the individual believer, we are less certain.
What exactly does self-denial "mean"? Are there limits to how much of the self one is to deny? Does self-denial mean purchasing a three-year-old Saturn rather than a new Explorer? Does it mean that all personal desires are sublimated to the wishes of the other, no matter who that other may be? Understanding the modern equivalency of cross-bearing is no easier. Is cross-bearing merely putting up with a disagreeable relative or acquaintance? Or does it mean something more serious and demanding? And what about following Jesus? Do any of us have even the faintest understanding of what life would look like if we took this command seriously?
There may indeed be no profit in gaining the world but losing one's soul, yet I suspect that most of us live as if gaining the world is a gamble we are willing to take. It is not the facts of faith that give us so much trouble; it is the content of faith.
Application
Exodus recounts for us the story of Moses minding his own business, tending sheep on the backside of nowhere, when all of a sudden he happened upon a fiery shrub that wouldn't quit. The text does not tell us what Moses might have expected to see in that grass-deprived stretch of wilderness, but one thing is for sure -- a burning bush wasn't it.
Nor was Moses expecting what came next -- the voice of the Divine calling to him out of the blazing bush. Had Jethro told Moses not to be surprised if he should encounter God near the Mountain of God, still what God asked Moses to do could hardly have been anticipated by Jethro. What this passage invites us to consider is that one who desires to encounter God in this world had better learn to expect the unexpected.
Paul concludes his letter to the Roman congregation with an admonition for the Christian community to act in unexpected ways. In a world torn apart by strife and conflict, they were encouraged to live at peace with all persons. In a society where the Golden Rule was do unto others before they do unto you, Paul urged his readers to treat those who might be enemies with love and compassion. In a religious climate where faith commitments were fickle, the Romans were prompted toward steadfast obedience to God. Paul was saying that if one wants to make a difference for good and for God in the world, then one should practice the unexpected.
In Matthew, Peter and the others thought they had this Messiah thing figured out. The Messiah would come, the ins would be out and the outs would be in, and they would hold prime cabinet positions in the new order. Jesus not only assaults their preconceptions but with this self-denying and cross-bearing stuff he assaults our preconceptions as well. The disciples were certainly not prepared to hear words about death and resurrection. All of which teaches us that a follower of Jesus must come to believe the unexpected.
Alternative Applications
Exodus 3:1-15. In returning to Egypt, Moses was forced to come face-to-face with his past. The Egyptians may not have remembered Moses' crime, but chances are he could not forget it. When God calls us to service, oftentimes that call involves facing a past of which we are ashamed or embarrassed. This text could well be used to talk about not only the difficulty, but also the necessity of coming to grips with what is behind us so that we can be better servants for what is before us.
Romans 12:9-21. Paul encourages his readers to keep their spiritual fervor in serving the Lord. At the same time he tells the reader to let their love be genuine. Sometimes we serve the Lord not out of zeal, but out of obligation. Sometimes our spiritual fervor is a false facade hiding all manner of negative feelings. So how might one strike a balance between persistent zeal and genuine love? Is zealousness the only indicator of genuine love? Can there be times when genuineness and zeal are antithetical?
Preaching the Psalm
Schuyler Rhodes
Psalm 105:1-6, 23-26, 45c
Continually seeking the Lord
"Seek the Lord and his strength; seek his presence continually..." (v.4)
Most people are pretty good at seeking God sometimes. In the compartmentalized reality of Western culture, that usually means the times that people set aside for their religious pursuits. For the dwindling number of Christians in the United States of America, that time is Sunday morning. It's true, for a few bold and gregarious folks who think outside the box it's Friday night or some other time that meets the cultural needs of the people. Some really creative types are calling people together in pubs and bars! Yet whenever or wherever it is, the idea of seeking God continually is simply not on the agenda.
This observation isn't offered as a critique. After all, seeking God is tiring work. All that praying and singing can wear a person out pretty quickly. More than that, they actually want you to be nice to people. Some of the people you're supposed to treat kindly? Well, let me you tell you about them.
Actually, this is a critique.
The call to continually seek God is not a call we hear very often. It's easier to ride the tide of culture, trying to squeeze God in somewhere between career, family, and a single malt scotch. The notion of putting God at the center of life and placing all else several notches down on the priority list is incredibly alien to us.
Yet this call does not subside. God's voice continues to beckon, calling us not to religion, but to God. God's voice sings to us, inviting us not to neat rows of pews or even to a barstool theological discussion, but to a life steeped in the journey that seeks God's presence continually.
It is not unlike the sensitivities many city dwellers develop. Walking on the street, urban folk have their antenna up for all kinds of things that might pose a danger or inconvenience. Seeking God continually is sort of like that, only it's developing an awareness in order to embrace rather than avoid. God-seekers develop an awareness that can hear the voice of God. They practice an attitude of openness that makes them vulnerable to God's presence. Indeed, if this church business has any purpose at all, it's to provide a space where people can develop this openness, this vulnerability to God.
Could it be that one small step for us might be to transform our church communities into holy zones of safety and sanctuary where people might come to practice being open and vulnerable? It's a thought.
One of the side effects of being a Packrat is that we are confined to living in the same residence for all of our life. It is not that we could not move if we wanted to, but rather that the expense of moving all of our accumulated treasures is prohibitive. Not only that, but we live in mortal fear that our spouses might take the occasion of such a move to weed out our storage units.
We do not hold yard sales -- we go to yard sales. It astounds us that other folks would actually be willing to part with items that might be needed for some unexpected project. And that is what makes us Packrats -- the belief that someday, somehow, somewhere we will need all 1,003 same-sized hex nuts we have stored up in mayonnaise jars.
We, the PAs of the world, always expect the unexpected.
Exodus 3:1-15
Chapter 3 of Exodus is one of those biblical passages so rich in material and possibilities that the preacher could spend an entire season with this text and still not exhaust its resources. First, there is the fire that would not go out. The burning bush, while certainly unexpected, was not really the main attraction of this encounter -- it was merely the means to an end. What is truly important is Moses' encounter with God. Yet what we most focus on and most remember is the burning bush, or to put it another way, too often we home in on the messenger to the neglect of the message. Against all odds a person recovers from a serious illness and friends and family celebrate the miracle, but fail to ask what it is God might be trying to say through the miracle. A prayer that has burdened the heart for a long time is finally answered, but beyond the answering one seldom wonders whether God might be saying more than what was expected. Life's burning bushes are the places where one encounters God and it is the encounter and not the burning bush that transforms the heart.
Moving on, I believe the most important verses in this chapter are verses 7 and 8. The entire pre-exodus account in the book of Exodus depicts a cosmic battle fought out on terra firma. In one corner you have the patriarchal God, recently revealed to Moses as YHWH. In the other corner there are the various deities worshiped by the Egyptians, represented by their iconographic manifestations of sun, Nile, bull, and so on. Even before the fireworks begin the reader is given a warning that this YHWH is no ordinary deity. Indeed, this God does what is inconceivable for any other god. Notice especially the action verbs used in these two verses. YHWH sees, hears, knows, and acts. Of special importance among these verbs is the one translated "know." As elsewhere in the Hebrew scriptures, this word implies an intimacy and might well be translated "to experience with." All of this is to fulfill a promise God made to Abraham, a promise likely forgotten by everyone but God.
In order for God to do what God desires, a human agent becomes necessary. This fact does not diminish God, but rather takes seriously God's intention in creation to make humankind dominion-sharers and image-bearers of God. It is not to argue that God cannot operate unilaterally; rather that more often than not God chooses not to operate unilaterally -- especially if one of God's human creatures can be persuaded to join God in the activity at hand. Thus, God called Moses and thus he continues to call to us to join with God in contemporary re-creative acts.
But Moses demurs. I do not believe that the protestations of Moses represent a false modesty or even untruthfulness. Moses fully understood himself to be a flawed individual, and I would suggest that God would have agreed with Moses in that assessment. Flawed individuals are the raw material from which God works -- for the simple reason that that is the only material available.
However, what I find more important than Moses' arguments are God's responses -- and these responses are not what one might expect. In response to Moses' "who am I" question, God responds that clarity and certainty will come when Moses returns to this same mountain with the people of Israel. In other words, certainty and confirmation will only come after the fact! Moses is to act in faith, not in certainty. He is to go as God leads, still full of doubts and self-questioning. Only when Moses completes the task for which he has been commissioned can he look back over the experience and say, "Yeah, God was in that." God treats us no differently. It is only in the doing that God is to be recognized -- everything else is the definition of faith.
As the first lesson points out, God's response to Moses' desire for a divine calling card is to provide a verb form combination that has proven terribly illusive to translators. Maybe what God is saying to Moses and to us is, "Hey, I am mystery -- get used to it." Short of that, however, my favorite take on God's name is "I will be what I have been." In other words, if anyone wants to know who I am, just have them take a look back over their history and they will understand. Remember when Abraham needed a road map? That was me. Remember when Isaac needed a stand-in sacrifice? That was me. Remember when Jacob needed a friend? That was me. Remember when Joseph needed protection? That was me. "What I have been," God said, "I will continue to be. Not just for now, but for all generations to come." This is the word of the LORD. Thanks be to God.
Romans 12:9-21
The apostle Paul is a study in contrasts. Much of the work done in Romans for the past several weeks has been an attempt to bring clarity out of an oftentimes confusing and contextually challenging letter. In today's passage, however, Paul could not be clearer about what it means. That clarity, nevertheless, does not make Paul's writing easier to swallow. Indeed, if praxis was the criteria by which one judged the difficulty of a passage, then today's text may be among the most difficult of all.
In each of his letters Paul moves from the theoretical (early in the letter) to the practical (later in the letter). In Romans that transition is made beginning with chapter 12. Any one of the admonitions of today's lesson is sufficient for an entire sermon, but there are several worthy of a closer look.
"Hate what is evil, hold fast to what is good." In an ideal world this admonition would not only make sense, but it would not be terribly difficult to follow. For most folks that which is clearly evil is detested and what is clearly good is embraced, but we do not live in an ideal world. Rather we live in a world where even the good is smeared with evil and where some redeeming value can be seen in most evil. The difficulty for the modern person is in trying to distinguish the good from the bad when the tentacles of one are so intertwined in the outreach of the other. The tendency of many serious church folk is either to be so focused on evil that they are unable to celebrate the relative good, or conversely to be so focused on seeing the positive in life that evil slips in under the moral radar. Paul invites his reader to struggle with the reality of both good and evil and to find a way to keep each in its proper perspective.
"Extend hospitality to strangers." In trying to calm the anxiety of a nation on edge, Franklin Roosevelt said, "We have nothing to fear, but fear itself." Our nation is once again on edge, only this time it seems that we have allowed our fears to conquer our better selves. This fearfulness is perhaps seen most clearly in how we respond to the stranger (the other; the one unlike how we are) among us. Specifically, this is seen in how have been invited by our leaders at times to regard the person of Middle Eastern descent: be cautious, report suspicious activity, be on guard against activity we might consider abnormal. By contrast, our faith encourages us to welcome the stranger, to practice hospitality, to extend ourselves toward others in a manner reciprocal to our own expectations. The question implicit in Paul is, "As followers of Christ are we going to be led by our fears or by our faith?"
"Do not be haughty, but associate with the lowly." There is an old saying that a person is known by the company that he/she keeps. Whenever my mother would remind me of this adage, it was always in the context of taking care not to hang out with those folks who would likely get me into trouble. Like so many others, I learned that lesson so well that now I only associate with "my kind of people." It is not that I consciously snub those who are economically, socially, educationally, or otherwise different than I am; it is just that I don't often think of them at all. This self-confession causes me a fair amount of dis-ease, but I suspect that if truth be told, I do not stand alone in my haughtiness.
"Do not repay anyone evil for evil." The last section of today's reading cautions us against acting as judge, jury, and executioner for those who act in hurtful and demeaning ways. The temptation is great to become like those we hate, and few there are who are able to overcome that temptation. As a nation we deplore the taking of innocent life, especially if we are the victims, while we defend as collateral damage civilian casualties caused by our own actions. We teach our children to fight back when confronted, all the while defending such teaching as in keeping with Christian principles. When do you suppose we will ever get around to practicing the last part of this passage, "If your enemies are hungry, feed them; if they are thirsty give them something to drink"? Or when will we do it without thinking that such kindness is just a more subtle form of vengeance?
No, Paul is not unclear in the passage. In fact, he is painfully clear.
Matthew 16:21-28
For a college instructor teaching first-year college students, one of the most challenging undertakings is moving a student from considering the factuality of an event or idea to considering the meaning of an event or idea. For instance, it is one thing to know that Pearl Harbor was attacked by Japan in December 1941; it is something else to know the significance of that event on US policy, politics, and self-consciousness.
Jesus had something of the same problem in moving the disciples from the factuality of his messiahship to the meaning and significance of that reality on those who chose to follow him. Today's passage follows hard on the heels of Peter's confession (speaking for his colleagues) that Jesus was the Messiah, the Promised One of God. Accepting that designation, Jesus proceeds to tell the disciples what that truth means for them.
Following this discourse, Peter takes Jesus aside in an effort to correct Jesus' messianic theology. For Peter, as for most messianic-minded Jews of that day, the advent of the Messiah meant the end of suffering, not more of it; it meant glorification, not humiliation; it meant subjecting the Roman overlords, not being further subjected by them; and it certainly did not involve death and resurrection. For Jesus, by contrast, messianic understandings meant above all obedience to God, even if that obedience led ultimately to the giving up of one's life. Jesus fully understood the disconnect between his understanding and that of his disciples, and he began to instruct them more fully about that which they only knew in part.
One question worth considering is whether Jesus in his response to Peter is referring to Peter as Satan or if Jesus saw a powerful satanic temptation in the idea to which Peter gave voice. In other words, is Jesus rebuking Peter or is he rebuking the idea of Peter? The point may seem insignificant, but I tend to think that there is an important difference between dismissing a person and dismissing that person's misconception.
Jesus then addresses the disciples reminding them that anyone who wishes to be considered a follower of his must understand the concepts underlying self-denial, cross-bearing, and "followship." These are not new concepts to us moderns -- any cursory reading of the gospels will bring the reader into repeated contact with these claims. As facts, we understand them. About how these "facts" play out in the life of the individual believer, we are less certain.
What exactly does self-denial "mean"? Are there limits to how much of the self one is to deny? Does self-denial mean purchasing a three-year-old Saturn rather than a new Explorer? Does it mean that all personal desires are sublimated to the wishes of the other, no matter who that other may be? Understanding the modern equivalency of cross-bearing is no easier. Is cross-bearing merely putting up with a disagreeable relative or acquaintance? Or does it mean something more serious and demanding? And what about following Jesus? Do any of us have even the faintest understanding of what life would look like if we took this command seriously?
There may indeed be no profit in gaining the world but losing one's soul, yet I suspect that most of us live as if gaining the world is a gamble we are willing to take. It is not the facts of faith that give us so much trouble; it is the content of faith.
Application
Exodus recounts for us the story of Moses minding his own business, tending sheep on the backside of nowhere, when all of a sudden he happened upon a fiery shrub that wouldn't quit. The text does not tell us what Moses might have expected to see in that grass-deprived stretch of wilderness, but one thing is for sure -- a burning bush wasn't it.
Nor was Moses expecting what came next -- the voice of the Divine calling to him out of the blazing bush. Had Jethro told Moses not to be surprised if he should encounter God near the Mountain of God, still what God asked Moses to do could hardly have been anticipated by Jethro. What this passage invites us to consider is that one who desires to encounter God in this world had better learn to expect the unexpected.
Paul concludes his letter to the Roman congregation with an admonition for the Christian community to act in unexpected ways. In a world torn apart by strife and conflict, they were encouraged to live at peace with all persons. In a society where the Golden Rule was do unto others before they do unto you, Paul urged his readers to treat those who might be enemies with love and compassion. In a religious climate where faith commitments were fickle, the Romans were prompted toward steadfast obedience to God. Paul was saying that if one wants to make a difference for good and for God in the world, then one should practice the unexpected.
In Matthew, Peter and the others thought they had this Messiah thing figured out. The Messiah would come, the ins would be out and the outs would be in, and they would hold prime cabinet positions in the new order. Jesus not only assaults their preconceptions but with this self-denying and cross-bearing stuff he assaults our preconceptions as well. The disciples were certainly not prepared to hear words about death and resurrection. All of which teaches us that a follower of Jesus must come to believe the unexpected.
Alternative Applications
Exodus 3:1-15. In returning to Egypt, Moses was forced to come face-to-face with his past. The Egyptians may not have remembered Moses' crime, but chances are he could not forget it. When God calls us to service, oftentimes that call involves facing a past of which we are ashamed or embarrassed. This text could well be used to talk about not only the difficulty, but also the necessity of coming to grips with what is behind us so that we can be better servants for what is before us.
Romans 12:9-21. Paul encourages his readers to keep their spiritual fervor in serving the Lord. At the same time he tells the reader to let their love be genuine. Sometimes we serve the Lord not out of zeal, but out of obligation. Sometimes our spiritual fervor is a false facade hiding all manner of negative feelings. So how might one strike a balance between persistent zeal and genuine love? Is zealousness the only indicator of genuine love? Can there be times when genuineness and zeal are antithetical?
Preaching the Psalm
Schuyler Rhodes
Psalm 105:1-6, 23-26, 45c
Continually seeking the Lord
"Seek the Lord and his strength; seek his presence continually..." (v.4)
Most people are pretty good at seeking God sometimes. In the compartmentalized reality of Western culture, that usually means the times that people set aside for their religious pursuits. For the dwindling number of Christians in the United States of America, that time is Sunday morning. It's true, for a few bold and gregarious folks who think outside the box it's Friday night or some other time that meets the cultural needs of the people. Some really creative types are calling people together in pubs and bars! Yet whenever or wherever it is, the idea of seeking God continually is simply not on the agenda.
This observation isn't offered as a critique. After all, seeking God is tiring work. All that praying and singing can wear a person out pretty quickly. More than that, they actually want you to be nice to people. Some of the people you're supposed to treat kindly? Well, let me you tell you about them.
Actually, this is a critique.
The call to continually seek God is not a call we hear very often. It's easier to ride the tide of culture, trying to squeeze God in somewhere between career, family, and a single malt scotch. The notion of putting God at the center of life and placing all else several notches down on the priority list is incredibly alien to us.
Yet this call does not subside. God's voice continues to beckon, calling us not to religion, but to God. God's voice sings to us, inviting us not to neat rows of pews or even to a barstool theological discussion, but to a life steeped in the journey that seeks God's presence continually.
It is not unlike the sensitivities many city dwellers develop. Walking on the street, urban folk have their antenna up for all kinds of things that might pose a danger or inconvenience. Seeking God continually is sort of like that, only it's developing an awareness in order to embrace rather than avoid. God-seekers develop an awareness that can hear the voice of God. They practice an attitude of openness that makes them vulnerable to God's presence. Indeed, if this church business has any purpose at all, it's to provide a space where people can develop this openness, this vulnerability to God.
Could it be that one small step for us might be to transform our church communities into holy zones of safety and sanctuary where people might come to practice being open and vulnerable? It's a thought.
