Posts Tagged ‘Grace’
Children of a Prodigal God – Br. Jamie Nelson
Podcast: Play in new window | Download
Subscribe: RSS
Br. Jamie Nelson
In their original manuscript form, the gospels did not assign titles to Jesus’ parables. But over the centuries, today’s gospel passage has acquired a well-known title you’ll find in many Bibles today: The Parable of the Prodigal Son.
There are several noticeable weaknesses with this title, as Biblical scholars have pointed out.[1] For instance, there are three characters in the story, but only one, the younger son, the Prodigal, is referenced. The father and the older son get no press despite their essential roles in this family melodrama.
And here’s another weakness: there are actually two prodigals in the story, not one. The word prodigal means wasteful or extravagant. Yes, the younger son spends his inheritance in recklessly wasteful and extravagant ways. No one can dispute his prodigal habits. Read More
Grace for All – Br. Luke Ditewig
Podcast: Play in new window | Download
Subscribe: RSS
Br. Luke Ditewig
The Second Sunday after Christmas Day
If the Christmas story was a family picture album, what would be first? Luke begins with Zechariah and Elizabeth, an old, barren couple. Matthew begins with a genealogy notably including four courageous women: Tamar, Rahab, Ruth, and Bathsheba. Their stories and that of sinful husbands Judah and David are scandalous. The four are foreigners. Jesus’ bloodline is not only Jewish but also Canaanite, Moabite, and Hittite. They show Jesus came for the world from the world, from diverse peoples.[1]
Matthew’s next picture is of wise men from the East, magi, foreign astrologers who come to worship Jesus by what they have learned by studying stars, not scripture. Like the four women, they were outsiders. As Ray Bakke wrote, God came through a mixed-race family with a foreign welcome party, God in flesh for all humanity.[2] Read More
Christ died for you – Br. David Vryhof
Podcast: Play in new window | Download
Subscribe: RSS
Br. David Vryhof
The gospel passage we have before us today wraps up the greatest miracle story in all of the gospels: Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead. Other miracles pale in comparison to it, but still, as is so often the case in the gospel accounts, the reactions to this astounding miracle are mixed. Many of the Jews who witness the miracle come to believe in Jesus. But others report Jesus’ words and actions to the priests.
Their report prompts an interesting discussion: Jesus’ increased popularity poses a threat to the chief priests and Pharisees because it risks drawing the attention of the Romans, who, they fear, will crush this populist movement, destroying both their religion and their nation. There’s no reason to doubt the genuineness of their concern for their faith and for their country, but we must note, too, that the chief priests and Pharisees derive what power they have from Rome, so the threat to their livelihoods, their influence and their social status is real.
Caiaphas, the high priest, has a solution: Let this one man, Jesus, die for the nation. The death of Jesus will squelch the movement, he argues, and it is better to have this one man die than to have the whole nation come to destruction. The evangelist John is quick to point out the irony of the high priest’s statement. Caiaphas is speaking from a political point of view when he speaks of Jesus dying for the people, suggesting that Jesus die instead of the people. John, however, understands Caiaphas’ words from a theological point of view. For John, Jesus dying “for the people” anticipates the voluntary offering of his life that will further God’s plan to save both Jews and Gentiles through Jesus’ death and resurrection. He will die on behalf of the people, rescuing them from the power of sin and death, and obtaining for them the precious gift of eternal life. Read More
Interruptions and Acceptance – Br. Jack Crowley
Podcast: Play in new window | Download
Subscribe: RSS
The day-to-day life of Jesus was probably filled with interruptions. From what we see throughout the Gospel, people constantly interrupted Jesus to ask for things. They asked for things like healing, answers to their questions, signs of his power and favors. From his own mother at a wedding interrupting Jesus to let him know that the wine had run out, to the penitent thief on the cross next to Jesus interrupting Jesus’ dying moments by asking to be remembered, Jesus life was marked by one interruption after another.
One of the many things I admire about Jesus is how he handles these interruptions. Jesus has an incredible ability to tactfully transform interruptions into something good. Something good not just for himself, but for everyone. Jesus does this by fully accepting interruptions and not ignoring them. Our Gospel tonight is a perfect example.
The action starts with Jesus teaching at a synagogue. We are told by the Gospel writer that the people who were listening to Jesus teach were astounded by his words. I think we all know that feeling of being in the middle of really good lesson and you are just hanging on to every word the teacher is saying. Then we are told that suddenly Jesus is interrupted by a man with an unclean spirit who starts crying out at Jesus.
Now as a former teacher, I can tell you from personal experience how aggravating it is to have a good class interrupted. All it takes is one person to interrupt and it can feel like the whole flow is ruined. Somehow Jesus is able to avoid this. Read More
Humility, Allowing Our Hearts to Soar – Br. Curtis Almquist
Podcast: Play in new window | Download
Subscribe: RSS
Br. Curtis Almquist
A little more than twenty years ago Philip Simmons died from amyotrophic lateral sclerosis: ALS – or Lou Gehrig’s disease. He was a young professor of English at a Chicago college, married, the father of two children. At the same time Philip Simmons was dying from the cruel ravages of ALS, he was more alive than he had ever been. [i]
He writes about learning to fall. He speaks of falling, quite literally, because of the ALS; he also writes about falling as a figure of speech. We fall on our faces, we fall for a joke, we fall for someone, we fall in love. He asks, in each of these falls, what do we fall away from? We fall from ego, we fall from our carefully-constructed identities, we fall from our reputations, from our precious selves. We fall from ambition, we fall from grasping to control… And what do we fall into? We fall into passion and compassion, into terror, into unreasoning joy. We fall into emptiness; we fall into oneness with others whom we realize are likewise falling. Ultimately it’s a falling into grace, falling into the real presence of God.[ii] The name for this falling, the gateway into this mysterious presence of God, is humility.
In our Gospel lesson appointed for today, we hear Jesus speak of humility: “All who exalt themselves will be humbled, and all who humble themselves will be exalted.” The English word “humility” comes from the Latin humilis: “lowly,” or “near the ground.” Humility is the opposite of feeling oneself to be high and lofty, above and beyond all the people whom we find inadequate. The English words “humility” and “humus” are cousins, “humus” being the organic component of soil. Humus is what makes soil rich. The autumnal leaves falling from the trees compost into humus, which is essential to life. Read More
God Does Not Acquiesce; God Celebrates – Br. Curtis Almquist
Br. Curtis Almquist
We have here two prodigal sons, the word “prodigal” from the Latin meaning “wasteful.” The younger son having wasted his share of his father’s resources and his family’s good name; the older brother being wasted by resentment because life is not fair. This is a made-up story which Jesus tells, not because it is historical, but because it is true. I suspect most everyone can relate to both of these two brothers, how we can get so twisted up in life wasting all kinds of time and stuff, and harboring resentments towards others. It is comforting, is it not, that Jesus obviously knows this? Is this story about the sons in any way Jesus’ own story? We don’t know. The story is certainly autobiographical when Jesus speaks of the magnanimous father who knows and loves both sons, without qualification.
The church has remembered this story down through the centuries because the story rings true. This is our story. We are these two children, sometimes more one than the other. And the father in the story represents the God whom Jesus calls “Father. Read More
The Accident of Faith – Br. James Koester
Fabian of Rome
Fabian, whose feast we keep today, is probably not someone many of us spend time thinking about. Somewhat obscure, at least to our mind, he’s none the less a fascinating character, who intrigues me.
Born about the year 200, probably outside Rome, he became Bishop of Rome in the year 236 as a result of a series of accidents. Eusebius of Caesarea gives an account of his election.
Fabian, we are told, was visiting Rome the day the Roman Church was gathered to elect a new bishop. Curious, Fabian joined the crowd. Eusebius goes on to say: a large number of eminent and distinguished men were in the thoughts of many, Fabian, who was present, came to no one’s mind. But suddenly, it is said, a dove fluttered down from above and settled upon his head, plainly following the example of the descent of the Holy Spirit upon the Saviour in the form of a dove. At this, as if moved by one divine inspiration, with the utmost enthusiasm all the people with one soul cried out “he is worthy”, and then and there they took him and set him upon the bishop’s throne.[1] Read More
A Way Out of the Cul-de-Sac – Br. Curtis Almquist
Podcast: Play in new window | Download
Subscribe: RSS
“Blaspheming against the Holy Spirit…” I can still remember stumbling across this Gospel passage when I was a young boy. Yikes. It nearly frightened me to death. For several years of my young life I lived in a kind terror that I would accidentally blaspheme against the Holy Spirit and go straight to hell. It’s not that I would do this intentionally. But that was the problem. I was afraid I might goof up and blaspheme by mistake – kind of like if I were to accidentally step on a crack and break my mother’s back, or walk under a ladder, or say or do something which everyone knew was jinxed.
As it turns out, I was not alone. Since the 3rd century, church luminaries have written at great length what Jesus meant about this unforgivable “blasphemy against the Holy Spirit.” From the earliest times up to the present, there is no agreement in the church – from east to west – on what Jesus meant.
John Wesley, the 18th century Church of England pastor and theologian, thought that “blasphemy against the Holy Spirit” would be the conclusion that Jesus Christ exercised his miracles by the power of the devil.[i] Wesley asks, rhetorically, “Have you ever been guilty of this, calling good evil and evil good?” He answers his own question: “No, of course you have not.” So, he said, there’s nothing to be afraid of here.
Tom Wright, the contemporary English New Testament scholar and Anglican bishop, says that if we were to call Jesus’ undeniably good work “evil,” we end up in a moral cul-de-sac without any turning room. “Once you declare that the spring of fresh water is in fact polluted, you will never drink from it.” You are stuck, you will dry up. Bishop Wright adds that “the one sure thing about [Jesus’] saying is that if someone is anxious about having committed the [unpardonable] sin against the Holy Spirit, their anxiety is a clear sign that they have not.”[ii]
[i] John Wesley (1703-1791), Church of England clergyman, theologian, evangelist, and brother to Charles Wesley.
[ii] Luke for Everyone, by Tom Wright (SPCK, 2001), pp. 149-150. Nicholas Thomas “Tom” Wright is an English New Testament scholar and Anglican bishop (Durham, 2003-2010), and a prolific author.
The Parable of the Unforgiving Servant – Br. David Vryhof
Podcast: Play in new window | Download
Subscribe: RSS
Poet and author Elizabeth Barrett Browning is probably best known for the words she wrote in a letter to her future husband: “How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.” Her father, Edward, was a controlling man who forbid any of his twelve children to marry, and when Elizabeth defied her father’s wishes to marry Robert Browning, her father never spoke to her again.
Elizabeth wrote weekly letters to her father in the hope that they might be reconciled, but for ten years there was no response. Then one day, after a decade of silence, a box arrived in the mail from her father. Her excitement quickly turned to anguish, however, when she opened it and found that it contained all of her letters – unopened. Edward Barrett’s heart was so hardened towards his daughter that he didn’t open a single one of the hundreds of letters she wrote to him.
Unforgiveness does that. It hardens the heart. It magnifies the perceived offense to the point where we can no longer appreciate a person’s value because all we see is how they have grieved us. If forgiveness is one of the most powerful forces for redemption in the Christian faith, unforgiveness is one of the most powerful forces for destruction. In today’s gospel lesson, Jesus gives us a parable that speaks to us about forgiveness and unforgiveness.[i] Read More
I have seen God face to face and yet I live – Br. Geoffrey Tristram
Podcast: Play in new window | Download
Subscribe: RSS
‘I have seen God face to face, and yet I live.’ But only just! Jacob had wrestled with the angel all night, and managed to come out alive – but with his hip put out of joint. Yet God blessed him through the struggle, and let him see God face to face.
Throughout Scripture, when the Spirit of the Lord comes down upon a person, there is so often a struggle; the Spirit is experienced as something traumatic and shattering. Dealing with God is not for the faint hearted! Listen to the prophet Ezekiel: ‘A spirit entered me and lifted me up and bore me away. Before the glory of the Lord I fell on my face, but the spirit lifted me up’. Daniel, standing on the banks of the river Tigris see a vision of a man, shining in glory, sent from God. The man spoke, and David fell into a trance, and then fell to the ground. Shaking with fear, he lost his strength and could hardly breathe. The prophet Jeremiah tries to get away from the Lord’s presence, but the Spirit overwhelms him, and he cries out, ‘If I say I will not mention him or speak in his name, then within me there is something like a burning fire shut up in my bones.’ Well might the writer of the letter to the Hebrews say, ‘It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God’!
Yet, through each one of these powerful and life changing experiences, God was at work, forming and molding these very different characters to become men of God; able to speak for God, but most crucially, to see for God. Through their profound and life changing encounters with the living God, they would now see as God sees. They would become God’s seers, and they would proclaim what they saw. Read More