You Are Wonderfully Made

Our churches run a children’s summer program each year, mornings for a week in July. It’s an opportunity to learn about life, show kids how God is in their lives and connect to some of the stories in the Bible in a way that’s meaningful to them. And it’s fun. It’s always fun.

There’s a different theme each year and a couple of years ago, we called it Wonderfully Made, picking up on that verse from Psalm 139, “you are wonderfully made.” Stories, activities and crafts revolved around our relationship with God and creation, our connectedness to each other and how we build on those relationships with love, grace, respect, thanks and care. It was a wonderful - and wonder-filled - week. 

Except … if you know your psalms, you know that’s not the whole phrase, is it. There’s something else in there. In fact, the whole verse is “I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; that I know very well.”

You can see why, like most people, we focused on the wonderful. Because we are. In every sense of the word, we are a wonder, we are full of wonder and we constantly wonder. Whoever you are, however you are, you are wonderful.

It’s the “fearfully,” though. Pretty easy to explain here: there’s more than one meaning for fear in the Bible. Yes, it can mean being afraid, but it can also mean awe, reverence and respect. Depends on the context. Jesus says “don’t be afraid” more than he says anything else and think of how often the angel in the Christmas story, for example, says “fear not.” It’s okay to be afraid, just remember that God is with you. But here, and phrases like “the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom” in Proverbs 9, it’s clearly about reverence and, well, wonder. Problem solved.

But it isn’t, is it. Fear, as an emotional response, has such a hold on us. It’s how we respond to perceived threats and the unknown, and the unknown is full of threats.

Is it, though? If “I know very well” that “wonderful are your works,” God, as the psalmist writes, then why are we afraid? Okay, many things can be wonderful and still be scary, fair enough, but approached with reverence, awe and respect we can engage them and learn and grow. And that’s the key part. Fear, of all kinds, and wonder, of all kinds, are part of the making of us.

I’m not the psalmist, but I don’t think that they were thinking “made” as just a past tense, done deal, finished product. I think they meant life, and in life we are constantly in the making, a constantly moving, changing, learning, growing creation.

There will be hurts and brokenness, sadness and joy, fear and wonder, of all kinds. But when we approach the world around us with reverent fear and curious wonder, with open minds and hearts, we build on the relationship that is already there in our connectedness in spirit. We aren’t “done.”

Sorry, Should Have Said Something Sooner

If you've been looking for a new post here the last couple of weeks, you may have noticed it strangely quiet. Sorry about that. 

I should have mentioned this sooner, but I'm on vacation until September. Yes, vacation. I didn't write anything ahead of time and it's not a "working vacation" (what even is that?). 

I bet Jesus took a day or two here and there. It would have been really helpful if that had been recorded in scripture, perhaps with a little story about how vacation and sabbath aren't the same thing and how both are important for their own reasons. Instead, every time Jesus wants to take a break and get away from people - either to pray or for a rest (see, sabbath and vacation aren't the same) - the crowds follow and Jesus gives in and keeps at it. I bet it was exhausting. 

Lots of people seem to follow that example, just keeping at it. You know who you are.

Take a vacation. I bet Jesus did.

Please don't leave, I'll be back. Look for more of this at the beginning of September.

Digging For Real Treasure

Now is probably not be the best time to ask this question, if it ever is: are you rich?

Your response to that question might be yes or no. It might also be an abundance of questions, like, how do you mean that? This is a religious thing, right, so you mean “spiritually,” right? Or do you mean talents or skills?  Or resources? Or, hang on, do you mean financially? Is this another one of those “the church needs money” questions?

Your response might also be “none of your business.”

I mean all those questions and, no, it’s probably not any of my business. But it is yours, and that’s what I’m asking you to think about because I think Jesus would like you to think about it, too.

I’ve often felt that Jesus talks about the rich the same way he talks about the Pharisees. He criticizes the keepers of the law for blindly following the letter of the law for their own ends or, worse, abusing the law for their own gain, ignoring the spirit and intent of the law. Pharisees, corrupted by power, were not living the way they ought. Likewise, the rich in money, material or power, acquired unfairly, at the expense of others or creation, hoarded it greedily and kept it selfishly. The power of money corrupts as readily as the power o authority.

I also think that Jesus would say that the stories generalize, as I just did. Not all pharisees are inherently bad, neither are all the rich. It’s complicated. 

The issue at the heart of this is, well, just that: what’s at the heart of things. Our nature is a desire to live well and do good, but that can be so easily swayed by power and material things. Things, after all, are only things until we engage them. But once we do, happiness seems so much easier to find than joy, being comfortable more than being engaged, domination more than a mutual peace. Meeting more than our superficial needs is so much more work. What could possibly make it worthwhile?

“For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”  (Luke 12:34) 

What if we treasured our hearts as readily as money or things or power? What if, instead of looking for the thing or person to give our hearts to, we began with the true treasure that is our heart, that is our self?  And then, knowing the treasure we each are, we shared that, with people, with the earth, with the actions we take that make our life. Couldn’t we then love and cherish, care and be kind, share and invest, respect and deal justly with each other? 

More than once in Luke’s gospel, Jesus reminds his listeners that the Kingdom of God is here, now, not some far off dream, but now. We don’t wait patiently for the kingdom to arrive, Jesus says, we should keep ourselves ready “for the Son of Man is coming at an unexpected hour.”  (Luke 12:40) We usually hear these words in Advent to remind us to be prepared for the next coming of Jesus, but I wonder if here, in this moment, he didn’t mean “the kingdom is here, I’m here, are you ready for action? Are you ready to live as the treasure you are, as the treasure we all are?” That’s what the kingdom is about.

If we are, then we will begin with the treasure that is life in all, not just those we love or perceive to agree with us or be like us, the ones we like and tolerate. We’ll see that those who bring us the greatest challenge, who disagree with us culturally, religiously, politically, socially and in a host of other ways, are equally the treasure we are and equally deserving of being treasured.

Nothing has more value than life. Surely the greatest treasure requires the greatest effort. Surely the greatest treasure demands we give our hearts to it and live whole heartedly.

Knowing Just What to Say

I probably repeat myself a lot.

I should clarify: I’m sure I do repeat myself a lot (I just did right there), but I also seem to repeat topics and ideas that come up again and again. Just this past week, I had to point out that the stories we’re currently hearing from the Gospel of Luke have appeared in a sermon series, in a study group and been the topic of a study group all within the last year. What more can be said?

Well, allow me to repeat myself or, at least, remind you of the work of others.

This week, we’re hearing Luke’s account of Jesus offering the words of the Lord’s Prayer. I’ve looked at that a lot - we just did a study group on the Lord’s Prayer in June - and I was curious how often I’d preached on it. When I looked back, I found a post from 2016 that remembered more creative days. Forgive me a summer week to share some of it again. It’s really worth repeating.

We had a Sunday back in March, 2016, when the service was led by youth and children. It was awesome, of course, as you’d expect, and included an important lesson for anyone who struggles with prayer. Let me share it again.

The scripture passage was Luke 11:1-13, the story that begins with one of the disciples asking Jesus to “teach us to pray.” Jesus answers with the words we know as The Lord’s Prayer or The Prayer of Jesus, that formal prayer we all say together each week. Jesus goes on to talk about the need to be persistent in prayer and how important it is to remember that God answers our prayers, though the answer is God’s wisdom rather than our own. And God knows us like no one else.

The theme of the morning was “a letter to God.” Each of the children had written a letter to God, a prayer which expressed what they were thankful for and shared needs and concerns that they had. Many of the children read their own letters, all of which also appeared on the big screen behind them. All the adults were invited to write letters, too, if they wanted to, and they had paper to hand out.

It was the same kind of paper they had used, that cheap, lined, three-hole paper like you might put in a binder for school. Somebody had some spare. And when they wrote their letters, they used pencil or crayon or pen, whatever was handy. Some had little drawings as well as words. The writing or printing might not have been the neatest, they didn’t always stay in the lines, the grammar wasn’t always good and the spelling was interesting. Some signed their name at the top and some at the bottom. Maybe even twice. They’re kids.

But God knows what they meant. And that’s just it.

For anyone who struggles to pray because they’re not sure what to say or how to say it, don’t worry. Or if maybe you wonder if there’s a proper form or a special way to address God. Don’t worry. God knows what you mean. God reads - and hears - what’s in our hearts. Just talk to God.

The “church” the children led us in last Sunday mirrored their letters. It wasn’t traditional or formal and it certainly wasn’t perfect. And yet it was. It was personal, authentic and sincere. Just what prayer needs to be.

That bears repeating.

In The Moment

Martha and Mary.

Familiar biblical characters from the Gospel of Luke, Martha and Mary. Jesus visits the sisters’ home and we find them to be quite different characters.

Martha welcomes Jesus, as a good host should, but then is too busy to visit with him because of the many chores she has to do. Mary, on the other hand, just sits and listens to Jesus talk. That upsets Martha, who could use a hand, so she asks Jesus to tell Mary to help her. But Jesus tells Martha that Mary’s doing the right thing. In her haste to be the perfect  hostess, Martha has lost the focus on her guest, but Mary sits, attentive and listening, with Jesus.

Martha and Mary.

Typically, I think, we tend to identify with one or the other and then struggle with the apparent favour that Jesus shows Mary. Some of us are doers like Martha, some of us are listeners like Mary and if we’re a doer, well, what’s wrong with that, Jesus?

Well, nothing. Nothing at all. Which one’s better isn’t the point. The story’s about Martha and Mary, not Martha or Mary. 

Here’s another moment when Jesus isn’t an either/or kind of guy, he’s an and/with. There's a time to be busy with work and there's a time for rest and reflection. Both are necessary. That’s even more obvious when we read what's around this story in Luke. Before Jesus is welcomed to the home of Martha and Mary, he’s talking to a lawyer about what he "must do to inherit eternal life." What he must "do." Jesus’ answer includes the parable of the Good Samaritan that challenges him to consider who his neighbour really is and what it means to love that neighbour. That story ends with Jesus telling him to "go and do likewise" (Luke 10:37). That's a whole lot of doing, a whole lot of living out the words that are spoken.

Immediately after his visit to the home of Martha and Mary, Jesus is asked to teach about prayer. He offers the words of what we know as The Lord's Prayer and a story about the importance of being persistent in prayer.

It's not that any one of these things is more important than the other, they’re complimentary. All part of the wholeness that we are. They’re siblings, just like Martha and Mary. What’s important in this story is discerning which is most important in the moment. Which is "the only one thing" (Luke 10:42) needed in this moment?

We live busy lives. There’s often so much to do that we can find ourselves missing the moment, multi-tasking in the hopes of accomplishing more and more without really noticing what this moment really needs. It’s not about more or less, it’s about what’s right for this time. 

“What gain have the workers from their toil? I have seen the business that God has given to everyone to be busy with. God has made everything suitable for its time.” (Ecclesiastes 3:9-11)

How Many Times Does It Take

How many times do you think Jesus told the Good Samaritan parable?

It only appears once anywhere, in the Gospel of Luke, but it’s famous. It’s not just a popular parable of Jesus, it’s made its way into popular culture and we have an expression: calling someone a “Good Samaritan” means something, even if you don’t know the original source.

So if it works so well for us, how well do you think it could have worked for Jesus?

Not just this story, either. There are so many others, I’m sure, especially with the parables.

Look, if Jesus was a successful itinerant preacher - that is, he travelled around, preaching and teaching in different places - even if he had a following, he would be constantly meeting new people, preaching and teaching new people. If he told a story and it went over well, it made a solid point and had real meaning, he would have used it again. And again and again, probably.

I get that the narrative nature of the gospels means that all that repetition is going to be left out. It’s like how many times Jesus “broke bread” with people, shared a meal with some conversation. I’m sure that happened so many times, story tellers didn’t keep repeating it. How interesting would the gospels be if they included a frequently repeated “and then Jesus said to them: A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, when he was attacked by robbers …” or even a “once again, Jesus told the oft repeated parable of the Good Samaritan.” Instead, the author of Luke tells it once, setting it up as the answer to the question “who is my neighbour?” Practical and poignant.

I’m just trying to say: I think Jesus told this story - like many of his stories - a lot. I think he knew it was reaching people and making a solid point. But I don’t think that’s the only reason why he would keep repeating it. I think people then, just like people now, did get the point. I think Jesus kept repeating it for the same reason we do: hoping desperately that people hearing it would move from hearing it to understanding it to living it, from nodding wisely and agreeing with the idea that everyone is my neighbour and worthy of love, compassion and grace and moving to the practical living of what that means.

We live in a world where it has never been easier to know your neighbour. Technology, travel, literature - there are so many ways to learn and know more about your neighbour next door, across town, the other side of the country or even the other side of the world. But we have to be intentional about it that way and it seems more like we do the opposite: we fear, we build walls, we claim power and dominate others.

So many people have likely had the personal experience that the parable explores, that we personally somehow had an experience of connection with someone we weren’t supposed to like or trust or love, maybe in a moment of life or death but maybe in a simpler experience. We’ve certainly had the experience of a need being ignored or avoided by someone who was supposed to want to meet it. But again, we have to be intentional about using that experience in our lives. For good.

It’s so easy to keep this story alive, but unlived. Imagine how different the world would be if those “Good Samaritan” stories we read or hear in the news weren’t special, but the ordinary, everyday way we lived. People living those experiences could change the world.

Hit the Road

Imagine being a follower of Jesus. In person. Not one of the chosen twelve, but one of the many others who heard his teaching and witnessed his ministry and became part of The Way with Jesus. There were lots of those. Sometimes “his followers” can mean a crowd, or a few or even just the twelve.

So, you’re enough a part of the movement that when Jesus picks a small group, seventy people (or seventy-two, depending on which manuscript is your source), to go ahead and bring the good news, healing for the sick and God’s peace to the villages he’s coming to, he picks you. You’re chosen. Then you and a partner are sent off to do that without any food or supplies. Not even so much as a business card or a pamphlet. And no food or travel supplies. Basically nothing. 

That’s the story the Gospel of Luke tells (Luke 10:1-20) as Jesus turns from his ministry in Galilee and begins the journey to Jerusalem. It’s time to get down to business training disciples and here’s where we start: go and do.

The only social media in those days is literally social: it has to be in person. There’s no live-streaming Jesus’ message, no texting to schedule a meeting and no tour bus. Jesus can’t just phone it in, nor is he able to be in more than one place at a time. It’s up to you and your partner - a partner that you likely just met. And you’re not supposed to take anything with you, Jesus says, because you’ll rely on the hospitality of strangers. Assuming, of course, that they want to hear what you have to share. Oh, and it gets even better because Jesus says “I am sending you out like lambs into the midst of wolves.” Bon voyage.

That sounds like a lot of work and not a lot of fun. Is Jesus just not very good at sales or could it really be all that bad? 

Well yes, it probably could. It almost sounds like one of those reality tv shows like Survivor or, worse, Naked and Afraid. “Alone and unprepared, facing the wilderness with nothing but your wits. How will you survive?” Except this isn’t a story of survival and hardship in which you have nothing but your wits. It’s a story of life and grace and generosity, and you have everything you’ll need for that.

Just because Luke says that Jesus told them not to take any luggage or supplies doesn’t mean they went with nothing. They took the only thing they really needed: Jesus. The spirit of love and grace that was alive in Jesus went with them. The good news, the message of hope and wholeness, and the power of what the spirit can do. The same spirit that Jesus took into the wilderness, the spirit that empowered his ministry, went with them into the world.

Those seventy, Luke tells us, returned to Jesus “with joy” (Luke 10:17).  I doubt that everyone they met welcomed them with open arms, but when they were done, they had shared a mission, built some relationships and did good. In a very practical way, they built community by being both disciples and apostles: learners and teachers, listeners and messengers, followers and leaders in action.

Jesus calls us to be both disciples and apostles throughout our lives. Each of us living, breathing, sharing the spirit is what builds relationships, creates community and brings love to the world. It starts with just a few.