Holy Week Devotion: The Arrest

Darkness surrounds them. Their bodies are tired. The sound of people stirring, not one or two, but twenty, thirty. Unknown voices whisper in the darkness. A friendly face. A kiss of friendship. A kiss of betrayal. Swords clash. Blood is spilled. Confusion reigns. The Master cries out, "No more of this!", and is taken away.

This is the scene of the arrest of Jesus, as it is told in the Gospels (Matthew 26:47-56; Mark 14:43-52; Luke 22:47-53). The authorities have come to take control of a situation. Firebrands must be dealt with. The Roman Empire will have none of this. Jesus draws large crowds wherever he goes. Large crowds are always a ticking time bomb... Jesus' words talk about God's kingdom, God reign, what does that mean for those in charge now?

The authorities come to take control. But the story of the arrest is the story of Jesus who, even in this confusion, remains in control. It is Jesus who stops the violent reaction of his disciples. It is Jesus who acquiesces to the guard's demand. It is Jesus who shames the authorities by his word,“Have you come out as against a robber, with swords and clubs to capture me? Day after day I sat in the temple teaching, and you did not seize me” (Matthew 26:55 ESV).

And it is Jesus who gives in to the fulfillment of Scripture. The Gospels tell us that Jesus' life, from its beginning in Bethlehem, was a fulfillment of Scripture. And here Jesus moves to the next step, saying "Let the Scriptures be fulfilled." He knows the Scriptures talk of the reign of God, of the new covenant. He knows that reign, that covenant are not in this earth. He knows that even now, God the Father is in control. And so the Son, in his Father's spirit, guides the action, and let's the Scriptures be fulfilled.

Holy Week Devotion: Gethsemane

Then Jesus went with them to a place called Gethsemane, and he said to his disciples, “Sit here, while I go over there and pray.” (Matthew 26:36 ESV)

I have always been fascinated by the story of Jesus in Gethsemane. It is Jesus at his breaking point, realizing the immensity of the work ahead of him. It is Jesus at his most human, struggling as he asks for this cup of suffering to pass from him. It is Jesus at his most divine, as he places himself in the control of the father, saying "Not my will, but yours be done." It is the image of Jesus that strikes a chord: alone, agonized, praying for what cannot be.

But today I want to spend time with the disciples. The picture we have of the disciples in Holy Week is not a flattering one. They are filled with bravado. They plan to fulfill the mission Jesus has given them. They say the words they think Jesus wants to hear. But they will fall away. They will run and hide. They will deny any knowledge of this man, Jesus. They epitomize those words of our Lord, "The spirit indeed in willing but the flesh is weak." (Matt 26:41)

In Gethsemane so much of the walk of discipleship is shown. Peter, James and John are close. Close to Jesus. Drawn by him into the inner circle, "Remain here, and watch with me," Jesus says. It is a closeness we cannot imagine, a closeness that comes from years of walking with Jesus, seeing his miracles, hearing his teaching, laughing and crying together.

But as close as they are in that moment physically...as close as they have been walking the dusty byways of Galilee...they remain distant. As distant as we are. Unable to sit and wait. They were overcome by the night that surrounded them. They were not cognizant of the situation they were in. They had heard the words of Jesus, but had not listened to what they meant. And so they slept.

We are distant because there are so many distractions in our world. So much that takes our eyes off the prize of Christ's high calling. So many noisy gongs that divert our attention from the call to lift our cross and follow. So many moments that weary us to the point that we sleep through the instructions Jesus gave, "Remain here, and watch with me."

We can speak the disciples brave words. But in the moment will those words be enough. We can have the disciples willing spirits. But are those spirits enough? Ultimately we work in our weak flesh, weak flesh that wants to hide, weak flesh that doesn't want to cause waves, weak flesh that can crave any sort of attention. But the Lord, in his agony in Gethsemane, in his trial and cross, in his death and burial, shows what weak flesh, weak human flesh can do. We are cross people...weak human flesh made strong in the death of our Lord.

Holy Week Devotions

As Holy Week begins tomorrow I am going to embark on a series of devotions. Today I edit a piece of a sermon I wrote in 2003 for Palm Sunday entitled "Through Jerusalem to the cross." Palm Sunday is that moment when Jesus enters Jerusalem to the joyous cries of his disciples and those who followed him shouting Hosanna (Save us)!

"When we cry our hosannas here, when we cry out to God to save us in this place, we are calling on God to lift our hearts from the fog. To lift our minds from the sense that we only have ourselves to deal with, that we only have ourselves to care about, that we only have ourselves to depend on. And Jesus says to us to follow him on his path through Jerusalem to the cross. And we know from the life of Jesus that people will turn against us. The world will turn against us. The world does not want our message. They do not want to hear us. So they shuttle us off to this little hour on Sunday morning. We need to take this hour and make it more. To take this hour with us, as Jesus took his disciples with him on that march to the cross.

Because we also know there is another story beyond the cross. We know that the glory and triumph which we see on this one Sunday, this Palm Sunday, is but a small glimpse. It is a only a piece of the glory that comes next Sunday, Easter Sunday, when the tomb breaks open, and Jesus defeats the power of death. We know that this is but a glimpse of the great glory when Jesus Christ comes again. But like Jesus Christ we have to go through the cross to get there. We have to go through the taunts and jeers of the crowd; we have to go through the pain that Jesus Christ went through. We have to take up our crosses and follow him. And each one of cries our hosannas, for each one of us has something that holds us back. Each one of us has something that causes us to come to God and say lift this from me. Save me from this. As he rides on in majesty, we too ride on in the majesty God has given to us, the majesty of being chosen of God, the majesty of being children of the living God. Jesus Christ has lifted himself that we might know the power of unmistakable and irreplaceable love. Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord. Hosanna. Hosanna. Hosanna!"

Read the full sermon, plus others, at sermoncentral.com

Cities skylines

I don't particularly enjoy most computer games. I don't enjoy games which involve hand-eye coordination. When I played Pac-Man in my teens, those stupid ghosts always got me. I prefer games that move at a slower pace, and involve simulated action. I enjoy sports management games, which involve strategy and finances and putting a team together, and seeing how your plans bear fruit.

In that same genre I truly enjoy city builder games as well. I remember playing SimCity fondly, with its ability to show how much damage a small godzilla attack can create. Because of these fond memories I purchased the newly released city builder game from Paradox Interactive, Cities Skylines. (Full disclosure my brother works at Paradox.)

I have only played a few hours but already I am enjoying the game play. The graphics are unbelievable in their detail, and the menus are super helpful. The goal is to progress along to certain milestone as you grow your city from hamlet to village to town to metropolis. As with most of these sorts of games, the main temptation to always to build too fast. This overwhelms your infrastructure and leads to all sorts of problems. Through trial and error, you realize what needs to be done. (Like don't put your water tower in an industrial zone! The citizens don't like brown water.)

One of more interesting, fun and sometimes unbelievably frustrating aspects of the game is how to deal with traffic. I am sure it is a problem real life city planners face. You build a city area, which is suitably served by normal roads, but then as the city grows the traffic becomes a nightmare. Then you need to figure out a plan to fix it, which often involves a lot of demolition to build wider roads, roundabouts, off-ramps, etc. I am still trying to get the hang of dealing with traffic, and if things don't work (which happens to me a lot), you re-load the city and start again. And the traffic nightmares lead to other problems. The trash is not picked up efficiently so it piles up. When someone dies they cannot be taken to the cemetery quickly so the neighbours complain. And the fire department has trouble answering calls.

The game is good about telling you what the problems are, and you get a lot of good game play out of trying to fix things. I look forward to many hours of fun, as I try, once more, to solve the traffic nightmare that is downtown Michaeltown!

My listening list for Holy Week

With Holy Week coming upon us I thought I would share what music would be most prominent in my study during this time.

Penderecki, St. Luke Passion

Beethoven, Christ on the Mount of Olives

Haydn, Die Sieben Letzen Worte (Oratorio version)

Haydn, Die Sieben Letzen Worte (fortepiano version)

Haydn, Stabat Mater

Bach, St. Matthew Passion (2 versions)

Bach, St. John Passion (2 versions)

Handel, Brockes Passion

Handel, St. John Passion

Some all time classics.

Our Delightful Duty

I read the Bible a lot. As a minister, that should probably be expected. But sometimes I ask myself the question, how am I reading God's Word? What do I receive for my time in the Bible?

These questions have become real to me as I have been reading David Saxton's book, God's Battle Plan for the Mind: The Puritan Practice of Biblical Meditation. This book is a map to what the Puritans have written about the Biblical meditation, which is quite a dense topic. And while reading this book I have come to a few realizations about my own Bible reading that I would like to share over the next few days.

First, I have to tell myself that daily Bible reading and meditation is not the same thing as sermon preparation. This is not to say that my daily Bible reading plays no role as I go to the study to prepare the week's message. Thinking and applying the Bible to situations each day, what the Puritans call 'occasional meditation,' is valuable in providing illustrations for a sermon. For example, when I see a beautiful sunrise, I can think to myself the opening words of Psalm 19, "The heavens declare the glory of God..." Such moments are important for the work of writing and preaching sermons.

But Bible reading each day is not about trying to find nuggets to preach about. One of my problems is that I try to figure out how to preach each passage I read. And while a valuable exercise, Saxton tells us that Biblical meditation should be about letting God's word get into your mind, and your heart. The question I often ask is "What can I do with this passage?" The meditation question should be, "What does this passage do to you?" And it leads us to meditate on things that can be difficult. Sin and holiness. Sexual sin and marriage. Death and life. It involves looking past ourselves to what God is saying through this passage. As Saxton writes,

Without a return to the delightful duty of biblical meditation, the believer will continue to handle God’s Word merely intellectually. (location 99, Kindle)

Delightful duty...what a beautiful way to describe our time God's word.  This book is telling me to get past my brain and to open up my whole self to God, his Spirit and his Word. Get past using the Bible as the text-book for preaching, and embrace it wholeheartedly as God's Word, now and always.

 

Pulpit freedom?

Thomas Oden, in his book Requiem: a lament in three movements, describes a Holy Communion service which he left. It was a service dedicated to Sophia as goddess. When discussing ministerial freedom he has this is add:

The overriding issue has to do with the reifying of the idea of sophia into a goddess acceptable to neopagan feminists who want to remain vaguely within the Christian community, but only on terms unacceptable to the apostolic tradition. (Oden, Requiem, p.150).

This post is not about the acceptability of Sophia worship, or the countless liturgical innovations that one can see. I don't want to get started about the merits of liturgical dance, Christian puppet shows, Clown ministry or U2charist. I want to focus on Oden's last words above. Those "who want to remain vaguely within the Christian community, but only on terms unacceptable to the apostolic tradition." These words come back to be because of the expressly related atheist views of Christian ministers in many denominations, including the United Church of Canada.

As a creedal Christian (explained in a previous post), I am a swirl of emotions regarding such things.

I am angry. Angry that such a thing is possible in the church. Angry that it receives so much attention when it does. But anger doesn't help.

I am frustrated. Frustrated that  the word "Christian" can have so little meaning. Frustrated that my own disapproval of an atheist Christian minister turns me into the intolerant one. Frustrated that my ministerial colleagues start conversations by saying, "Oh, he not that type of United Church minster." Frustrated that my congregation is caught wondering "What's all this about?" But frustration is a never-ending cycle that just leads nowhere.

I am saddened. Saddened that this is the public face of the United Church. Saddened that silence has become the best policy. Saddened that someway, somehow the message of good news has been lost in a maze of post-modern definitions that make God's word meaningless. But we are not called to be people of sadness...


So as someone who holds to the apostolic tradition, I have to be hopeful. I have hope that the good news of Christ's salvific work will remain strong. I have hope that the gospel will be preached. I have hope that the message will increase, not in grand showy ways that draw headlines, but in ways that change lives. Today, I cling to the hope.

Most helpful commentaries on the Gospel of John

I am coming to the end of a sermon series on portions of the Gospel of John. I thought today I would share which commentaries have been the most helpful to me during my study time.

For those who use the original languages, pride of place on the Greek text goes to C.K. Barrett, Gospel According to St. John. While somewhat dated in its bibliography, it remains critical without being skeptical. Barrett has a good sense of the theological continuity in the gospel, and his writing is so precise. He packs a lot into a small space.

For sheer information, Craig Keener's 2 volume, 1600 page Gospel of John is mind boggling. Keener delves into history and culture and doing so provides the framework for the narrative of the gospel. There is a lot of food for thought here. The main problem with Keener is that the amount of information can overwhelm the pastor short on time.

In theology, I recommend the work of Herman Ridderbos, The Gospel of John: A Theological Commentary. Ridderbos is an exceptional Dutch Reformed theologian, and his work is always worth a look. Even if you do not agree with Ridderbos' Calvinism, there is much in the commentary that will benefit your study.

As far as more traditional commentaries I would give top marks to Andrew Lincoln in the Black's New Testament Commentary series, as well as D.A. Carson in the Pillar series. Both of these series are almost entirely filled with well written commentaries. Carson is by far the evangelical first choice, showing that biblical scholarship and evangelical belief are not antithetical. Lincoln is moderately critical, with a dim view of the historicity of the gospel's stories. But even so Lincoln provides depth and insight. Reading these commentaries together will provide a range of scholarship in the Gospels, and open your eyes to possibilities.

So with these choices, any study of John will be off on the right track. Listen to my sermons in this series here.

Happy birthday, Bach (Old Style)

I have been reminded this week that today is the birthday of Johann Sebastian Bach (1685-1750). Bach is the quintessential Baroque composer, and to me is the greatest musical mind in the history of the Western world. Many times as I sit and read, or as I prepare my sermons, the music of Bach fills the air of my study.

So much of Bach's music is well known. At this time of year, the strains of his St. Matthew Passion and St. John Passion are heard as we prepare for Good Friday. The beauty of the Mass in B minor is almost unparalleled in music history. I became intrigued with Bach during seminary, while seeing to our school music director's joy at playing Bach's organ works. So I provide a couple of my own favorite pieces of music from the Bach library, which takes up a 155 CD box set in my study.

I begin with a vocal work, the Ascension Oratorio BWV 11. While not having the grand sweep of the Passions, this half-hour work provides a wondrous celebration of what it meant for the disciples that day when Jesus departed. The uncertainty, the hopelessness and the sheer wonder of what is going on echo through the work.


When it comes to Bach's instrumental works, I am a big fan of his masterful cello suites. He produced six of these works for unaccompanied cello. The works are haunting and reach deep into the soul. The sound of a cello is very distinctive, and these pieces are incredible.Here is a link to Pablo Casals playing suite No. 4 in E-flat major. LINK

So today, I will listen to some Bach, and celebrate his wonderful gift to us. Maybe first a cello suite...

I used to believe THAT

These days my more personal reading has been spent in the poetry of Robert Southey (1774-1843). He was a Romantic-era poet, friend to Wordsworth and Coleridge. He was British Poet Laureate from 1813 to 1843. While his poetry is not to the level of others in that era, it is a pleasant diversion from the heavier reading I usually do.

I am currently reading his poetic drama, Wat Tyler, completed in 1794. It tells the story of Wat Tyler's 1381 rebellion against King Richard II over the imposition of a poll tax. It was a radical anti-government work, which showed Southey's sympathy for the work of the French Revolution. But Southey's politics change over time. He becomes more conservative, and he is ultimately placed in the court position of Poet Laureate. But the publication of Wat Tyler was used against him in many ways. In fact the play was published surreptitiously in 1817.  His critics were trying to embarrass him. He was accused of betraying his radical roots, or of selling out his ideals for titles and respectability. Southey answered his critics admirably, but could never shake the impression that he was a hypocrite and a sell-out.

While the famous of today often find themselves in the same position as Southey, having to defend themselves for views long forgotten, I ask myself what in my own history would I disavow today. When I read or listen to sermons I have preached, I find myself shaking my head. (I am glad that for an eight year period, no text or recording of my sermons exist. They exist only in the memories of the audience that day.) But I think about how I have changed. My theology has changed. My politics have changed. Am I embarrassed by who I used to be? Sometimes, yes. But always I realize the path of my life has led me here. And will lead me on, probably to more changes in my theology and my politics. And I think I mostly OK with that.

Creedal faith

I admit it. I love the creeds. Each Sunday in worship, my congregations repeat together the words of either the Apostles' or Nicene or New Creed of the United Church. I have been doing this for at least 10 years in several different churches. In times past I have added a responsive reading of the Ten Commandments to this as well. I realize it is not a common occurrence in many churches these days. It was certainly not something I was taught in my seminary education. So why do I use the creeds and confessions of faith in worship each Sunday?

1) It connects the congregation to its history. As Vincent of Lerins wrote, "quod ubique, quod semper, quod ab omnibus (everywhere, always, by everyone)." The Apostles and Nicene Creeds have been spoken in churches for centuries, and we can have a connection to churches using these creeds in different languages throughout the world. When we repeat those words, we confess that we belong to more than our own local community. Even reciting the New Creed of the United Church of Canada connects the congregation to the denomination, which at times can be richly needed.

2) It reminds us of the focus of our belief. "We believe in one God." Those opening words of the Nicene God lead us on a journey to discover God's wondrous method of salvation. And in the midst of worship that focus should lead us to understand that this time belongs to God, and the message of his Son.

3) We do it together. This is important because it connects us as a congregation to the beliefs which we share. To hear all voices, young and old speak these historic words is a tribute to the faith that has been passed from generation to generation.

4) The last reason is selfish. It focuses my own preaching. I repeat the words because I believe them. Every single one of them. No fingers crossed, or inaudible whispers. I speak deliberately, so that the words of belief go deep into my heart, and I proclaim the message that God has revealed, not my own pet project.

I hope we can return to the creeds as a church. While they do not, and never can say everything, they are an important building block of our faith together.

Listen to Bach's version of the Nicene Creed in his Mass in B minor (BWV 232)

Struggling in Prayer

My Prayer Bench

 Each morning while at home, I wake at 5:30 am. Or sometimes earlier because of a demanding cat who can't seem to tell time. I wake ostensibly to pray. And each morning in prayer is different.

Some days the list seems long. So many sick and dying. So many friends struggling. So much gets added day after day, how do I pray for it all. Did I forget to pray for that dear friend I promised I would?

Some days I struggle for content. My mind searches for people to pray for, and the well is dry. I know that there are multiple things I should be praying for, but my mind gets blank in the presence of God. And I cannot form the words or sentences that I need.

Some days I am distracted. The wind howls outside. The house is too hot, or too cold. That song won't get out of my head.

Some days I feel overwhelmed. I am just one simple country pastor. Praying the problems of the world into my mind, into my time with God. The global problems of poverty and persecution and injustice. The personal problems of fellow ministers and their churches. Community concerns. Will God hear me? Why would God hear me?

Some days I feel selfish. I focus on my own prayers, my own family, my own battles with despair and indecision, my own struggles against the demonic powers of the world. These days are the worst because if ever there was a place where the enemy gets a stronghold, it is in this kind of self-inspection.

Thankfully, most days I feel at peace in the presence of God. I pray for my friends. I pray for my family. I pray for the world and the church. I am content that if I don't remember everything, God will. And I thank God that I have the opportunity to come into his presence with my concerns. That even after all the selfish and distracted moments, the overwhelming and struggling days, I still offer my prayers. I still remember and love what the Lord has given to me. And I still know the Lord answers this sinners prayers. Amen.