A Thought on Travel

“Wherever you go, there you are.”  I tend to think about that aphorism anytime I have to travel. For some reason I couldn’t remember where it comes from this time, so I made the mistake of googling it. It appears that there has been a popular book by that name recently. So, all the current links google served up were from some Western Buddhist wannabe. But the original place I remember it from is Thomas A Kempis in his “The Imitation of Christ.” His larger context was The Cross.

“No one is so touched with a heartfelt sense of the Passion of Christ, as the man whose lot it has been to suffer like things. The cross, then, is always at hand, and everywhere awaits you. You cannot escape it, run where you will; for wherever you go, you take yourself with you, and you will always find yourself.”

A more modern translation of that runs:

“So, the cross is always ready and waits for you everywhere. You cannot escape it no matter where you run, for wherever you go you are burdened with yourself. Wherever you go, there you are.”

I usually hate travel.  Unless I’m going to some all inclusive beach resort, the effort and expense of travel just never seem worth it. I’m not unmoved by the Romance of it. I’d love to go to Constantinople. The problem is that Constantinople doesn’t exist.  And even Istanbul doesn’t exist as it is in my conception. I’m convinced that travel is on so many people’s lists of dreams to do because they are running from the cross. They have bought into the simple Jimmy Buffet transaction – Changes in Latitude, Changes in Attitude – without contemplating He Went to Paris, or even better “Hell, it could be my fault.” We think we can run away from the cross.  Yet wherever we go, there we are. Whatever we thought we were escaping, we bring it with us. But what is it we bring?

When Jesus said, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me (Mark 8:34),” we often take this as a call to some form of the ascetic life. We look at the cross as doing something that our authentic selves does not want. But that is the way to works righteousness, or maybe even worse, to the perennial martyr. What it really means is crucifying the Old Adam. It means mortifying the sin that lives within our members. For it is only then that we meet our true self.  For Jesus’ invitation is followed by the saying, “For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake and the gospel’s will save it. (Mk. 8:35 ESV)”  We can travel around the world sucking the morrow out of life, and we shall lose it. For wherever we go, we are like poor Marley’s ghost, adding links to the chain of who we think we are.

But wherever we are, at whatever age, or place or spin of fortune’s wheel, there is a cross. Christ chose the cross.  He set his face to go to Jerusalem (Luke 9:51). And it is only through the cross that the true Christ was shown.  “This man is the son of God (Mark 15:39).” It is in picking up our cross that we for the first time know who we are. Who is the person we have stopped running from?  What have we accepted as the call of love in our lives?

Wherever we go, we are burdened by our sinful nature. It used to be standard reading – Pilgrim’s Progress.  The initial picture of Christian on his pilgrimage is carrying this heavy bag.  And he thinks that bag is everything. It is only at the cross that the bag falls off and Christian knows himself. His pilgrimage is just beginning.  His travels are extensive. But from that point on it is himself.  And his walk is heavenward all the way. We imitate Christ when embrace the cross, when we attempt to live the call of love in our lives and stop running from it.

Trusting Providence

We are reading through Genesis in the Wednesday bible study. Only slightly tongue in cheek I shared that the rest of the bible is footnote to Genesis. It is all there in the beginning. Yes, the entire history of Isreal, and then Jesus, and the church, certain fill things out.  But one of the New Testament’s favorite words is to be made full – “When the time was fulfilled…that the scriptures might be fulfilled.” (You can look up that word fulfilled in your concordance and see all it’s uses.) The mental picture of the word is that the form is already present like a pitcher or a jug or 40 gallon vat of water.  Events fill it up or even change the water into wine. The form is fulfilled, made full. Genesis is the empty 40 gallon vat. And it all fits in the there.

As part of that form, there is a funny little story in Genesis 12:10-20. Most interpreters pick up on the Exodus parallels.  Going into Egypt because of a famine.  Plagues. The plunder when leaving. All of which are fulfilled.  But in the midst of that I think there is something better to ponder with Abram. In the immediate prior verses, God has made his covenant with Abram.  And it is that covenant of pure grace and promise.  “Go…I will make you a great nation, and I will bless you and make your name great, so that you will be a blessing. I will bless those who bless you, and him who dishonors you I will curse, and in you all the families of the earth shall be blessed (Genesis 12:1-3).”  If the covenant with Noah was the promise of temporal providence – “While the earth remains, seedtime and harvest, cold and heat, summer and winter, day and night, shall not cease (Gen 8:22)”  – this is the promise of eternal providence.

And immediately comes the test. “Now there was famine in the land. So Abram went down to Egypt. (Gen 12:10).” Now one of the things we have to understand about Abram is that he is a very rich man.  He has a full household.  He has herds and flocks and slaves and everything.  So when Abram goes to Egypt, a symbol for the world, he is dealt with by Pharoah as an equal. So does Abram deal with Pharoah out of faith in the providence of God, or does Abram try and deal with Pharoah on worldly terms?  If you know the story, or if you just know human nature, you know Abram immediately defaults to worldly terms.  He tells his wife Sarai to say she is his sister.  He passes Sarai over to Pharoah as part of a treaty. And Abram, already a rich man, receives everything that world can give. “And for her sake [Pharoah] dealt well with Abram; and he had sheep, oxen, male donkeys, male servants, female servants, female donkeys, and camels.”

It’s a repeating pattern with Abram.  He believes the promise, but he’s always trying to figure out how he can speed God up, or how he can help God fulfill the promise. It’s a repeating pattern with us. It is not that we don’t believe God’s providence.  We just have trouble seeing His time and His ways. And living in the midst of the Egypt – in the midst of the world – we are always trying to cut deals to help God out.  The problem is that our deals with the world are the equivalent of giving our wife to Pharoah’s harem. We hand over the one through whom the offspring is promised to those who would mistreat her. We might get everything the world offers, but we’ve given up the pearl of great price.

The good news is that with signs and wonders – the plagues here, eventually the God-man who takes the plague of the cross upon himself – God still provides.  His covenant with us in Jesus doesn’t depend upon our perfection.  It is not upon us to make it full. God fulfills it. He has fulfilled it in Jesus, and he is at work fulfilling it in you.

The next time we find ourselves deep in negotiation with the world, pause for a second. Do we need what the world is offering? What are we giving in exchange for it? Has not God promised us “everything we need to support this body and life?” It might feel like a famine, even to a rich man with herds like Abram. But is our deliverance truly in Egypt?

Why Pray for the Cardinals?

It is not something that modern Lutherans or Protestants spend a lot of time thinking about, but then you only get a new one every decade or so.  In my lifetime there have been 5 popes: Paul VI, John Paul I, John Paul II, Benedict XVI, and Francis. And John Paul I barely counts. And the reality is that as the leader of roughly 1.5 Billion Roman Catholics what any Pope says or does has an impact on the church as a whole.  There is an old saying often applied, “if Rome catches a cold, Wittenberg sneezes.”  There is a list of doctrines that the church has always taught, that many protestant branches have changed with the spirit of the age, but if Rome were to change them, the worldly politics would be rough for any church continuing to confess them. That might explain some of the anxiety of the Francis years because that occasionally looked like a possibility. As a Lutheran it is easy to say “popes and councils may err.” (Luther wrote a treatise under that title.) But to a believer in Papal infallibility, that 2000 years of Popes could teach one thing in faith and morals and you could wake up the next day with the living Pope teaching something else; it went right to the heart of what they confessed.

So, as over the next week, weeks(?), months(??) that we see a new Pope elected, I thought it might be worthwhile to review what we Lutherans believe, teach and confess about that office. Maybe surprisingly the Augsburg Confession – the 1530 primary confession of the Lutheran Church – is rather silent on the bishop of Rome.  Everyone, maybe Luther excluded, still hoped for a church council at that time to adjudicate all the issues. And it was only Luther himself who was excommunicated and declared an outlaw. The Augsburg Confession later section restricts itself to commenting on practices it believes need to be universally reformed: Marriage of Priests, The Mass, Confession, Monastic Vows along with some others. It also closes with an article on Church Authority (Art 28). Maybe foreshadowing the fuller teaching, it limits itself to speaking about “the power of bishops.” The pope by implication being merely the Bishop of Rome and not a universal Bishop. The authority of all bishops is simply “that which they have according to the gospel.  For they have been given the ministry of Word and Sacrament (paragraph 20-21).”  “If they have any other authority or jurisdiction…they have this by human right. (paragraph 29).”

In 1537, what was implied in the Augsburg Confession, is made explicit in two works: The treatise titled The Power and Primacy of the Pope and Article III.4 of the Smalcald Articles entitled The Papacy.  Both are rather short and clear.  You can read any of the Confessional articles yourself at https://bookofconcord.org/ or ask me for a copy of them, we have some extras. The treatise puts forward three claims of the papacy, which the modern papacy would still hold. 1. The Pope is by divine right supreme over all bishops. 2. That by divine right the pope operates in both the Kingdom of the Right (the gospel) and The Kingdom of the Left (the Civil Realm) with the authority to appoint and remove rulers. 3. That the pope is “The Vicar of Christ” which means simply that he is in the person of Christ in all that he does. Now the modern Roman church may moderate on these occasionally due to practicality, but just like indulgences, they are still there.  The treatises teaching can be boiled down to the assertion that all of these are usurping the throne of Christ. It is Christ that is the head of the church. It is Christ who appoints both church and state rulers through various means.  And Christ needs no vicar as he is present wherever the church gathers.  The treatise holds out a distinction that none of these claims are proper by divine right.  The pope cannot bind consciences over his actions in these areas. But, by human right and custom, one can certainly consult the bishop of Rome. Philip Melanchthon the writer was still hopeful of a council healing the schism.

Luther in the same year wrote his article on the Papacy which is more strident, although it really addresses the same three claims.  It opens, “The Pope is not, according to divine law or God’s Word, the head of all Christendom.  This name belongs to One only, whose name is Jesus Christ.  The pope is only the bishop and pastor of the Church at Rome and of those who have attached themselves to him voluntarily or through a human agency.  Christians are not under him as a lord. They are with him as brethren.” Luther continues to imagine a “by human right” papacy, but concludes that this would have to be a failure. And in his toughest statement asserts, “This teaching shows forcefully that the pope is the true Antichrist. He has exalted himself above and opposed himself against Christ.  For he will not permit Christians to be saved without his power (paragraphs 9-10).”  That “saved” is the confession that our sins are forgiven by faith alone.  The absolution does not require the pope’s penance.  If we believe Christ, our sins have already been forgiven and not even the pope can stand in the way.  To the extent the pope stands in the way of the absolution, he opposes Christ.

But there are roughly 1.5 Billion Roman Catholics, fellow Christians.  In the words of the confessions they have “attached themselves to him voluntarily or through a human agency.” And it is only good and right that we should pray for them at such a time.  Both that a good and faithful man might be elevated to such an office, and that he would not get in the way of the proclamation of the gospel, but that he would be their brother in the faith.

Easter Mystery

The great truths of any faith are always a mystery.  What do I mean by that?  What is a mystery?  I’m not thinking of Scooby Doo and the mystery machine, nor Sherlock Holmes or your favorite writer.  Those are all mysteries that can be solved.  A fact is hidden that the investigator can reveal by the end of the book or episode. No, the mystery of a faith is something that is already completely revealed.  It has been revealed before the face of all people. The mystery of a faith is something that can be intuitively understood.  It makes complete sense, and yet is non-sense. Our minds can’t really process it.  Even though we might see it. 

The sacraments are such mysteries.  Water, bread and wine do amazing things. And we can see what they do in the lives of the faithful.  But do we really understand how the Spirit hovers in those waters?  Can we really grasp how we eat and drink the body and blood of Christ?  We recognize the body of Christ. Comprehend is a different matter.

The greatest of these mysteries is the resurrection. We all have an intuitive grasp that death is a horror, an enemy, not natural. As much as the materialists of our generation want to say that death is a natural part of life, it isn’t. It’s part of the life of sinners. It is part of life in a cracked world.  But death is not a rightful inhabitant.  But how do sinners combat their just penalty?  “For in Adam we all die.” (1 Corinthians 15:21).  God in his great mercy has sent us a champion. “In Christ shall all be made alive.” (1 Corinthians 15:21). 

Staring directly at the mystery is tough.  Mysteries are singularity events. We can’t really penetrate them in themselves. How exactly God and man together is one Christ is the mystery of the incarnation. You can meditate on Christmas forever and not understand it. But it speaks to our souls.  You can stare at the empty tomb and not understand.  But it breathes hope.

Isaiah captures that hope so well.  The promise of the new heavens and the new earth (Isaiah 65:17). For that is what the resurrection is, the first fruits of the new creation. And in the new creation, “the former things shall not be remembered or come to mind.” It’s a common question about heaven “what about those who aren’t there?”  Or, “what about fill in the blank of something that meant so much here?” They shall not come to mind.  Why?

Isaiah’s answer I think is simply the reality of the resurrection shall turn this broken creation into Paul’s light momentary affliction. “I will rejoice in Jerusalem and be glad in my people.” If God is glad, can we be anything but? “No more shall be heard in it the sound of weeping and the cry of distress.” And Isaiah goes on to list things that are sadly too common – not mysteries at all in this world – that shall not happen in the new.  “They shall not labor in vain or bear children for calamity (Isaiah 65:23).” The teacher of Ecclesiastes – all is vanity – shall be out of work.  And the wolf and the lamb shall graze together.

We see the effects of the mystery.  Even now we can see the mystery at work.  Name another place outside the church that gathers together such different people. But what we see today is nothing compared to that day.  The day that the last enemy is destroyed forever. Have a blessed Easter. 

7 Words

I made a mistake in service planning this year.  I always prefer working from assigned readings, but the Wednesday midweeks don’t have a formal lectionary.  There are multiple informal ones.  Each LCMS Seminary provides some cheats.  The Synod worship committee itself does so as well. Along with a couple other sources. So I usually just pick up one of those as the assigned reading and run with it. Why? It prevents me from overthinking these things.  Something I am prone to do.  But back in late January when I was forced to think about this – Ash Wednesday was March 4th – I was not yet thinking about Holy Week.  So when the midweeks suggested reading the Passion story over the 7 weeks I said to myself “sure, that sounds good. I’ve done catechism reading the past couple. Something different.” Not thinking, “oops, that will cause the same text to be read at least three times in 10 days.”

Why? Because Palm Sunday has become Palms and Passion.  Why? Because attendance at Good Friday services had dipped significantly. And Going from the King riding into Jerusalem to shouts of Hosanna to Resurrection morning seems to skip something significant to the Gospel in between. So the Passion was added to the Palms. And the typical Good Friday service is the dousing of the lights while we read the Passion. If I was thinking, I would have changed that service to an alternate “Seven Last Words” service. Maybe next year.  There are several wonderful choral arrangements around that theme.  Might be an interesting challenge for the choir.  Lutheran Service Book 447 – Jesus, in Your Dying Woes is our hymnbook placeholder for such a service.  It is a wonderfully tight three stanza each meditation on the collection of Jesus’ words from the cross.

So, I’m sorry for the repetition. But, it is something important. And there is enough in there for more than three meditations. So I thought here I’d offer the thumbnail of an alternate mediation – the Seven Last Words.

“Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.” – Lk. 23:34

“Truly, I say to you, today you will be with me in paradise.”  – Lk. 23:43

“Woman, behold, your son!” 27 Then he said to the disciple, “Behold, your mother!”  – Jn. 19:26

“Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?” that is, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” – Matt. 27:46

“I thirst.”  – Jn. 19:28

“It is finished” – Jn. 19:30

“Father, into your hands I commit my spirit!” – Lk. 23:46

That is the traditional ordering. The first three show Jesus’ continued care for others even while being crucified. From those farthest away who don’t know what they are doing, who he begs forgiveness for, to those closest. Making sure that his mother was cared for. In between comforting the repentant thief whose hours were almost as short as his own. There is something about the order of love in those sayings.  We cannot neglect those far away, while at the same time we have a specific duty of love to those nearest.

The next two reveal something of the split of the Synoptics Jesus who is first human and revealed to be divine, and John where Jesus is always divine, but also shown to be the true man. The synoptic human Jesus suffers everything that we do, including the worries that God has forsaken us.  Luke caps these human worries off with the last words, the great confession of Faith.  “I trust you Father.” We all find ourselves there.  Can God really be with us in suffering and death?  Faith’s response is yes.  “I commit my soul to the Father.”

John’s words are the words of the divine. The thirst of Jesus is not the thirst for the sour wine, it is the thirst for more to be at the table, when he will again drink of the fruit of the vine. His life, his incarnation, his passion, is for all mankind that we might come to the heavenly feast.  And this divine Jesus’ last words for John are the judgement, “It is finished.” Salvation has been secured.  The redemption price has been paid.  The New Adam has withstood his temptation, and sin and death shall rule no more. The Righteous King has been crowned.

God cares for us – those close and those far away. He desires us all to be at the banquet. His salvation is done. The only question is the one of faith.  Do we trust what God has done to commit our spirit to Him? Proofs I see sufficient of it, ‘tis the true and faithful Word.

A New Thing



I can’t remember when I first ran across this comic but it captures something deep, both about the sinful nature, but also about the deep magic of creation.  The 2nd and 3rd panels are the sinful nature portions. It isn’t the first panel because new things are not necessarily sinful.  It is when we refuse to love and cherish the relations we’ve been given (4th commandment), when we refuse to support our neighbor (5th), destroy our neighbor’s possessions and income (7th), entice away our neighbor’s household (10th) that we throw things up into the air just to see where they might land.  We want things to be different, and the only way the sinful nature knows how to do that is by destroying our neighbor or even ourselves. And when we do, “oh no.”  The punishment of sin is living with its effects.

But our Old Testament lesson for this Sunday (Isaiah 43:16-21) is a good meditation and captures that first panel.  God has a habit of intervening in the lives of his people, of wanting things to be different.  Before the flood “The LORD was sorrowful he had made them (Genesis 6:6).” So he pledged to do something new, saving eight souls in all.  Getting off the Ark things continued as they were, culminating in the Tower of Babel.  So God chose Abraham as his own giving over the nations.  You can walk through other such changes. Judges ruled for 400 years until God has Samuel anoint Saul King.  Saul’s Kingship didn’t last his lifespan when God decides on something new and anoints David. The monarchy reaches something of an end and God sends them to Babylon – something new. And with each something new from God you could say he is just doing it like the central panel.  Throwing stuff up and seeing what sticks.  But that is not God’s revelation of himself.

“Thus says the Lord, who makes a way in the sea, a path in the mighty waters (Isaiah 43:16).” The waters are always the chaos of the world.  God is the one who separates waters from waters bringing order out of chaos. God is the one who makes a way. The mighty men – “the chariot and horse, army and warrior (Isaiah 43:17)” – are brought forth and extinguished by God. In the midst of sinful man throwing things up and going oh no, God makes a way.  God makes good things happen out of our oh nos.

The great “new thing” that Isaiah is ultimately talking about is Christ. As a hymn puts it, “The Ancient Law departs/and all its fears remove/For Jesus makes with fearful hearts/A covenant of love..” “Remember not the former things, nor consider the things of old (Isaiah 43:18).”  When we are standing in the middle of our next “oh no”, God has already made a way in Christ.  And the response of the people of God is “that they might declare my praise (Isaian 43:21).” God wants a new you.  He wants a you that has been formed by himself and his word.  He wants a you justified and sanctified by his indwelling Spirit.

But it is verse 19 of our lesson that has always intrigued me.  “Behold, I am doing a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?” As much as we might want things to be different, the sinful nature wants to control the change. We don’t want the change if it is not in our control.  But the way of God is the “new thing.” The will of God is done, but is it done amongst us? Do we see the way that God is making for his people?  Are we willing to stop trying to force our ways that end up in “oh no” and attempt to perceive God’s way? That way doesn’t always look great.  It’s in the wilderness, past wild beasts and jackals.  But the way God makes brings rivers to the desert and extracts honor from the beasts. It gives drink to my chosen people. It’s the opposite of just throwing stuff up; it builds up and provides. Do we see it? Are we willing to let Christ make us different?

Meditation on Now and Not Yet

Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come.  – 2 Corinthians 5:17

It’s a person theory, but all the trouble in Christendom stems from what this verse is talking about.  Here the Apostle Paul is talking Old Creation and New Creation, but he has other ways of talking the same thing. The Kingdom which is passing away and the Kingdom Come. The Old Adam and the New Man. And there are many others.  The way that it fixes in my mind is actually from John. “Beloved, we are God’s children now, and what we will be has not yet appeared (1 Jn. 3:2 ESV).” – the now and the not yet. Now we can already claim the resurrection. Now the promises are all fulfilled in Christ. But stubbornly some of them are not yet ours by sight.  They are ours by faith.

If you are within the church we all wish that we were now perfect.  There is an expectation that if we are not part of the Kingdom things should be smooth.  So when minor disagreements crop up, not even mentioning gross sins, how is this place the Kingdom is a natural question. That fact that the church now is the gathering of sinners, forgiven by Christ, but still dealing with the Old Adam is often forgotten.  Yes, the new has come, but the old is still passing away.  Daily the old Adam must be drowned.

Externally the church now still deals with the old creation.  And the Old Creation recognizes the church for what it is, the Omaha Beach of the New Creation, the place where now the Kingdom Comes, if not yet in full power. Now the church forgives sins.  “All this is from God, who through Christ reconciled us to himself and gave us the ministry of reconciliation (2 Corinthians 5:18).” And that reconciliation comes through the proclamation. Now, your sins are forgiven.  “As a called and ordain servant of the world, I pronounce the grace of God onto all of you.” Not yet have we been made perfect.  Not yet does the truth of that proclamation shine forth to all who hear it.  The Prince of this Old World knows it and now fights hard against. But the residents of it? Not yet have all seen the way, the truth and the life.

Living in the overlapping of the now and the not yet is constantly frustrating. Not only in dealing with others both inside and outside of the church.  The most frustrating part is when that now and not yet are within ourselves. Now we know what we should do, but we do not yet do it. Not yet have we mortified the flesh, because now sin still lives in our members. We often find we are at war with our very selves. We are the new creation, but the old hangs around.  And the fact of the old hanging around, if we are wise, prevents us from claiming and acting on the now, when what we are desiring is not yet. If we are foolish we plunge ahead only to find ourselves worse than the starting point.  The law has not been put away, and not a jot or tittle will disappear until the fulness of the Kingdom.

The now and the not yet is the right division of the law and the gospel. Now the gospel comes to us in word and promise.  The not yet becomes the now by faith.  But the day comes when that Kingdom will come in power. But the power is not yet. Now it comes in poorer form. A message of reconciliation. A rumor of resurrection. “God making his appeal through us. (2 Corinthians 5:20).” And we implore you, be reconciled to Christ, now. Trust the Word.

What Story are You In?

I’ve never been one to re-read or re-watch things. Outside of the Scriptures, a few select books or poems, or a couple of movies, the 2nd or 3rd time through just never added anything. Someone told me once it is the Germanic besetting sin of novelty. Although anyone who knows how much I love my daily routine would never say that.  Which is why the last few months have been strange for me.  I’ve found myself re-watching some TV series.

Television has changed. It started before streaming with HBO. A season of say The Sopranos was 13 episodes.  That’s about half a season of older TV.  A third of a season of really old TV.  And the stuff coming out today, say Stranger Things, are 8 to 9 episodes per season. The difference being between the older serial nature of television and the current story nature. Every episode of Gunsmoke was exactly the same story.  You tuned in every week for 20 years because you liked the characters of Marshall Dillon, Doc and Miss Kitty.  Every Episode of Star Trek was the same.  But you liked the adventures of the characters of Kirk, Spock and McCoy or Picard, Riker and Data.  If you wanted a story, you went to the movies.  HBO and streaming changed that.  But the shows I’ve found myself rewatching – because they are easily available on streaming – are something of a blend.  They have a story that runs through usually a season, but also what I’ll label a meta-narrative story over the entire series. They also were producing 20-24 episodes a year, so each episode has roughly the same serial nature. They eventually fail as a show when the story is played out. House and Cuddy were never going to get married and raise a family. It took a season to play that one out. The Baker Street Irregulars of his team eventually had to stand on their own. The real story was always Sherlock and Watson, House and Wilson. It is the rare story of male friendship that was not sexualized.  Will the genius ever recognize his own need?  “He saved others, let him save himself.”

Being a Pastor’s Corner and not The Critical Drinker, this should eventually turn to Jesus. So here goes, maybe it works, maybe it doesn’t. We’ve all been cast in our own serial story. Shakespeare as always has the deep intuition.  “All the world’s a stage, And all the men and women merely players; They have their exits and their entrances.”  I know that it’s a joke – main character syndrome – the guy who thinks that nothing else happens in the world because the spotlight is always on him.  But this world is more complex than any single stage. Another show that I’ve been rewatching has been Person of Interest. And the Machine is watching you, every minute of every day. Every one of you. You are all main characters. It is an interesting metaphor for God.  Does the machine intend your story for ill, or for good. Will He intervene on your behalf? And the only way The Machine intervenes in the world is through Mr. Reese and Mr. Finch.  Although occasionally The Machine is seen to break its own rules. Bad characters are redeemed, others wish to serve in inappropriate ways and good characters hate the machine.

The story – our story – eventually runs out. We reach the judgement; the show gets cancelled. And we want to say “The Way of the LORD is not just (Ezekiel 33:17).” We’ve been given this life – those serial episodes each day – to solidify our character. Are we the character, like Mr. Reese, who turns from his injustice? And even though he dies, lives.  Do we decide in faith that we are living in a Comedy, even through we have our daily tragedies, we know the wedding feast is at the end. Or is this life a tragedy, and we should get our pound of flesh today?  Whether your story is in Act 1 or Act 5 it is right to ponder the arc. As Paul says, “these things took place as examples for us (1 Corinthians 10:6).”  What story are you in?  

Power in the Blood

Just last week South Carolina carried out the first execution by firing squad since 2010.  This is not a lament about the barbarity of the method. If I was ever to be put in the position of having to choose a method of my execution, I’d take firing squad.  Neither is it a lament of over the death penalty itself. The State, Caesar, has the job of meeting out punishment. The executed in this case in 2001 murdered the parents of an ex-girlfriend and proceeded to kidnap her. He admitted to the murders. And still had 24 years of procedural delays before justice. No, this is a contemplation of blood.

Our Old Testament text is the confrontation of Jeremiah’s prophetic mission with those he was sent to.  His mission was to proclaim the coming exile to the elite of Jerusalem.  That is summarized in what the priests quoted back to him, “This house shall be like Shiloh, and this city shall be desolate, without inhabitant.” Shiloh was the location of the tabernacle before the temple.  It was the center of Samuel’s prophetic work.  But the Philistines would steal the Ark of the Covenant from Shiloh and it would not return. The capture was taken as God’s removal of himself from the place. And Shiloh would become barren.  Jeremiah’s prophetic message was that God was going to remove his name from the Jerusalem temple.  And the life that came from that name would depart with it.

The priests, and the temple prophets, and the people themselves demanded that Jeremiah deserved death for this message.  “He has prophesied against the city (Jeremiah 26:11).”  Jeremiah’s response has three parts: 1) “The LORD sent me to prophesy against this house and this city the words you have heard (Jeremiah 26:12).” 2) “Do with me as seems good and right to you. (Jeremiah 26:14).” 3) Know for certain that if you put me to death, you will bring innocent blood upon yourselves and upon this city and its inhabitants (Jeremiah 26:15).” And in that third point is the introduction of blood.

The temple of Jerusalem was in the blood business. Every sacrifice that took place was an offering of blood. And as the Torah held, “the life of the flesh is in the blood, and I have given it for you on the altar to make atonement for your souls, for it is the blood that makes atonement by the life. (Lev. 17:11 ESV).” The blood calls out.  The blood is either life pleading for life – for atonement.  Or the blood is life pleading for vengeance, as Abel’s blood called out in that primal murder.

If we are going to execute people, I’d say it is good to have blood.  It is a reminder of what we do.  It is everything that the various other methods, which we think are more humane, attempt to hide.  If we are spilling blood, is this justified? Or are we bringing innocent blood upon ourselves? 

Which brings us to the blood of Christ.  Unlike Jeremiah which Jerusalem would never get around to killing, Jerusalem would kill Christ. The definition of innocent blood, which would lead to the temple’s absolute destruction within the lifetime of those present. And the name of God has not returned.  But that innocent blood of Christ also presents with something new.  The innocent blood pleads not for justice, but for mercy.  “Father forgive them, they know not what they do (Luke 23:34).”  This innocent life was sent to prophesy a new covenant.  His words still call out our sins.  “Now therefore mend your ways and your deeds, and obey the voice of the LORD (Jeremiah 26:13).”  His word still allows us to do with Christ as seems good and right. His kingdom is not by the sword but by faith.  But the plea of the Blood of Christ is not for justice, but for our pardon. Jerusalem may be desolate, but the New Jerusalem is full of life.  Life made possible by the blood.  As the old hymn has it, there is power in the blood. 

In Step With the Spirit

The great enemies of the spiritual life are usually summarized as The Devil, The World and our Sinful Flesh. And I keep using flesh instead of the more modern sounding nature because that is the word the Apostle Paul uses. Paul’s sinful flesh is not limited to what our minds immediately jump to.  The Apostle is more psychologically attuned to all the ways our gut desires to have and control things.  Those things can be actual things. In more advanced forms they are people.  The will to domination. In St. Augustine’s Confessions he steals the pears not because he is hungry, or because the pears were good pears, or even because they looked good.  He steals the pears because he wants them. And the second he has them he discards them. And it is his meditation on his desire for the pear that defines his sinful flesh. There is nothing good that comes out of it. Any logic or self justification usually comes later to cover the venality.  Augustine’s pears help to show how deep it goes in ourselves.  Augustine was a wealthy man. He had better pears at home. Like Ahab desiring Naboth’s Vineyard (1 Kings 21), or the story Nathan tells to David about the rich man stealing the lone sheep of the poor man (2 Samuel 12), it is the pettiness that brings the pathos.    

I’ve included a sketch out of an older catechism. It was pictorial, so these ideas were things taught to 3rd graders, maybe younger.  You can see the three great enemies referenced: the devil, the flesh and the world. You can also see what that catechism put forward as the spiritual weapons against these enemies.

If the temptation was the flesh, if the desires to have and dominate are overwhelming, the spiritual weapon proposed is fasting. In Christ, through the Spirit, we can mortify the flesh (Romans 8:13). Mortify is an old King James word. The modern translation has “put to death.” It’s the same root as mortician, or probably more familiar, Morticia of the Addams family.  The Spiritual logic is that either we are going to control the desires of the flesh, or the desires of the flesh are going to control us. There is no third way.  As all the apostles would say, “do not be deceived (1 Corinthians 6:9 and elsewhere).”  If we do not learn to control ourselves, a fruit of the Spirit is self-control (Galatians 5:23), what hope do we have of larger things such as the world or the devil?

We have a few weeks in lent, so I’ll return in future weeks with some comments about the other two.  Fasting, prayer and almsgiving are the traditional penitential acts of Lent. Each one deserves 500 words alone. But one last word now.  Please notice that none of these practices are practices of the law.  We do not do these things to deserve salvation. In Christ the victory has been given to us.  And if we find ourselves lost in the flesh, the world or to Satan, Christ calls us back.  Every sinner who repents is greeted as the Father did the prodigal son. These practices are Spiritual practices. They are done in the power of the Holy Spirit. And those who are mature in the faith do not leave such things up to chance, but instead, having crucified the flesh, keep in step with the Spirit (Galatians 5:25). Lent is a season to hear what rhythm your step is keeping.