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They Paved Paradise…

…and put up a parking lot (Joni Mitchell, Big Yellow Taxi, 1970).

My wife Barb and I recently returned from two weeks of travel in Greece, following the footsteps of the Apostle Paul led by David Sparks of Footsteps Ministries. Starting in Thessaloniki we made excursions to Veria (Berea) visiting the traditional rostrum in a synagogue, likely in the same location where Paul delivered his message about the resurrected Jesus a couple thousand years ago! We also saw the remnants of the old Jewish Quarter recently being rebuilt/renovated. Sadly no Jewish people have lived in Berea since all were deported to Auschwitz during World War II.

While in Northern Greece, we also visited ancient Philippi and the stream where Lydia and the first Philippian converts were baptized. At the ancient ruins, we walked on the same road Paul and Silas would have walked on, and stood in the forum where they were stripped and beaten before being thrown in jail. And we peered into the likely location of their jail cell.

Our journey took us to Athens and Mars Hill (Areopagus) where Paul, at the base of the Acropolis, defended his belief in one true God in marked contrast to Greek mythology and polytheism. We visited ancient Corinth, standing in the forum where Paul was brought before Gallio, the Roman proconsul, by Jews not wanting to hear about a dead and resurrected messiah. Leaving Athens by cruise ship, we visited ancient Ephesus in Turkey as well as some islands of the Aegean Sea (Rhodes, Mykonos, and Crete).

As you can imagine, we were deep in Greek Orthodox territory. While traveling from city to city we saw Greek churches scattered throughout. We visited several eastern churches including the 1400-year-old church of St. Demetrius, dedicated to the Roman military officer who was martyred for his faith in Christ by Emperor Galerius. Some churches were converted mosques following the fall of the Ottoman Empire. Although the exteriors of the churches varied significantly, their interior had many things in common.

Five years ago I briefly visited a Greek Orthodox Church in Korçë, Albania. It was newer as it was built after Albania gained religious freedom following the fall of the Soviet Union in 1990. In ignorance, I deemed the Church to be filled with what seemed like meaningless, ritualistic icons. I discovered otherwise during this trip. Some icons, yes but more importantly were the detailed paintings and frescos.

But they weren’t just paintings. They told the Gospel story. Illiterate people over the centuries could sit in worship services and observe the gospel narrative in moving and living colors! We could spend hours discussing the detailed purposeful art. But I want to move on to something I observed about Greek Orthodoxy that wasn’t part of our teaching tour.

Cathedral of St. Titus (Also known as Agios Titos), Heraklion, Crete

The photo above is of the Cathedral of St. Titus (Also known as Agios Titos) in the city of Heraklion, Crete. Titus is not mentioned in the Acts of the Apostles, but it is understood that he was the first overseer of the Christian community that Paul helped found on the island of Crete. The original Church on this site was built in the mid-14th century. It was converted into a mosque when Heraklion (then Candia) fell to the Ottoman Turks in 1669.

Destroyed completely by an earthquake in 1856, the building in the photo was a replacement mosque built in 1869. When Greece gained its independence from the Ottoman Empire in 1925, the mosque was converted to the present church.

Like so many of the Greek Orthodox churches the cathedral, as you can see, is located in the center of the city with a plaza in front and a school playground adjacent on the left. We could hear the children playing outside during our teaching time in the church. To the right is a coffee shop. On the plaza were banks and stores of commerce. What was missing? A parking lot!

We were in and around the Church for a couple hours mid-morning on a weekday. There was a constant coming and going of people. Ladies, with groceries in hand, would come into the Church, say a prayer, light a candle and be about their day. Others appeared to stop in on their way to work. One young couple came in for a blessing from the clergy. In general, the Church seemed like the center of activity for people as they went about their days. This was my takeaway:

The Church was a part of the fabric of the community.

And that’s a big deal. Being part of the fabric of a community is proximate to the life of Jesus. He wasn’t just a rabbi. He was a rabbi that became part of the fabric of his community – Capernaum. It’s where a majority of his early followers resided.

Proximate. As I typed the word it occurred to me that I don’t think I have ever used or typed proximate in a sentence. On the fear that I might be misusing the word I, as I am wont to do, looked it up…

Proximate : closest in relationship; immediate, very or relatively close or near. Etymologically, proximate derives from Latin proximatus ‘drawn near.’ Drawn near! What immediately comes to mind is Jesus’ proclamation of the gospel, the good news of God: “The time has come. The kingdom of God has come near” (Mark 1:15).

Proximate, proximity – it’s how we become part of the fabric of our communities. In urban cultures, it seems that proximity and fabric can be naturally woven together. I suspect it’s more difficult for western suburban churches where we build facilities and put up parking lots.

Everything’s a Surprise…

Throughout my ministry career, I have always used the philosophical “Modus operandi” that everything’s a surprise at _______ (fill in the blank). This was certainly the MO of Young Life over the years. Heck, my introduction to the ministry came from taking ten kids to a Young Life camp in Colorado – and everything was truly a surprise. We did mystery road trips where kids had no idea what to expect. We told them what they should pack and the rest was a surprise.

That philosophy translated when serving in Church youth ministry opportunities as well. I wanted the leaders (and the kids) to understand that “everything’s a surprise” is theologically solid.

We read a book to our own kids as they were growing up – Theirs is the Kingdom. It is a wonderfully written story of Jesus. It is not a children’s Bible, per se. It is more of an aggregate narrative of all the gospel writings. The title of one of the sections of the book particularly captured my attention: The Surprise of the Kingdom. I remember thinking the title was apropos of God’s character displayed through the centuries and especially through Jesus. Everything Jesus did and said was a complete surprise to all witnesses.

Living the Christian life is not a well-laid-out journey. We really don’t know what each hour/day/week/years(s) might hold. It’s a journey full of surprises. If we want otherwise, we might want to pick a different religion!

Why don’t we like surprises? I’m guessing because then things are out of our control and that’s pretty uncomfortable. We prefer comfort and control. But in our preference for comfort and control, Jesus has to be pushed to the wings. They aren’t congruent.

Think of Jesus calling people to follow him, especially the fishermen. Come follow me and I’ll make you fishers of people. That’s all he told them, The rest was… wait for it, a surprise. We have no indication that other disciples had even that much definition as to what lay ahead when he invited them to follow. They didn’t know what was going on half the time, but they followed anyway because Jesus’ words had the ring of eternal life (John 6:68-69, JB Phillips).

What I think might relate to Christ-followers in the 21st century is Jesus’ discourse with the Pharisee Nicodemus. It was a bit of a primer of the life in the Spirit. As Jesus spoke with Nicodemus, he metaphorically related the Spirit of God with the wind that blows where it pleases…

The wind [or spirit] blows all around us as if it has a will of its own; we feel and hear it, but we do not understand where it has come from or where it will end up. Life in the Spirit is as if it were the wind of God (John 3:8, The Voice).

The wind of God, carrying us along where He wants to take us. In following Jesus, God’s Spirit, the Holy Spirit, takes us places we don’t expect or anticipate. Following Jesus, being led by the Holy Spirit, is the penultimate mystery road trip, full of surprises. Read the book of Acts and pay close attention to how the Holy Spirit directed the lives of the first followers. Nothing was as they thought it would/should be.

Everything was a surprise for the early followers

At Pentecost they spoke about Jesus in languages they never learned. Peter never thought he would eat non-kosher food. Surprise, he did. Especially follow the life of the Apostle Paul. Jesus surprised him while on a literal road trip to Damascus to arrest Christians and bring them back to Jerusalem for trial. On that trip the wind started to blow in a different direction for him. That same wind, the Holy Spirit, directed the remainder of his life taking him to places he never anticipated.

Think about it. Paul had his life all figured out at a young age. He was a graduate theology student under the tutelage of Gamaliel, one of the greatest first-century rabbis. Paul’s credentials according to the Jewish objective rubric of righteousness:

 Circumcised? On the eighth day. Race? Israelite. Tribe? Benjamin. Descent? Hebrew through and through. Torah-observance? A Pharisee. Zealous? I persecuted the church! Official status under the law? Blameless. (Philippians 3:5-6, New Testament for Everyone).

Paul had comfort and control. He knew the Torah and its implications. He knew and banked on God’s promises. Cause and effect. A statement David Hubbard made in the introduction of his commentary on Proverbs comes to mind…

“We cannot use Proverbs like subway tokens to open the turnstile every time.  They are guidelines, not mechanical formulas.  They are procedures to follow, not promises we claim.  We heed them the best we can, try to gain the wisdom that experience can teach, and then leave large amounts of room for God to surprise us with outcomes different from what our plans prescribe.”1 (My emphasis)

God surprised Paul with outcomes different than his plans and objective approach to faith prescribed. God introduced him to the Holy Spirit and to a subjective experience.2 The rest is, as we say, history. The Holy Spirit took Paul on a mystery road trip that was substantially different than he probably anticipated. Some of the surprises of that road trip…

24 Five times I received the forty lashes minus one from the Jews. 25 Three times I was beaten with rods. Once I received a stoning. Three times I was shipwrecked. I have spent a night and a day in the open sea. 26 On frequent journeys, I faced dangers from rivers, dangers from robbers, dangers from my own people, dangers from Gentiles, dangers in the city, dangers in the wilderness, dangers at sea, and dangers among false brothers; 27 toil and hardship, many sleepless nights, hunger and thirst, often without food, cold, and without clothing. 28 Not to mention[a] other things, there is the daily pressure on me: my concern for all the churches (2 Corinthians 11:24-28, CSB).

Though God surprised him with outcomes different than his plans prescribed, Paul had no regrets…

“Whatever former things were gains to me [as I thought then], these things [once regarded as advancements in merit] I have come to consider as loss [absolutely worthless] for the sake of Christ [and the purpose which He has given my life]” (Philippians 3:7, Amplified Bible) 

May we, like Paul, allow God to surprise us with outcomes different than our plans prescribed. Experience suggests we will have no regrets.

1Hubbard, D. A. (1989). The communicator’s commentary. Proverbs. Word Books.

2In his book, Galatians for You, Timothy Keller suggests, “The Spirit brings us a radically subjective experience” (p. 99). I think I will want to dig into this idea more!

If only…

As I may have indicated previously, my wife Barb and I weekly host a young adult Bible study group. Since September, we have been working our way through The Chosen. Our rhythm is to watch an episode followed by a fairly robust and varied discussion. It has been a transformative experience thus far. The group is primarily made up of grandkids, their friends, and other Young Life leaders.

At present, we are mid-way through the third season. This past week we watched the episode depicting the healing of the hemorrhaging woman who dared to touch the hem of Jesus’ robe. Barb, not knowing the focus of the episode, sent a text earlier that day to the grandkids and friends about the same story. It was a devotional she had written several years ago and posted on FaceBook for the women’s ministry Never So Broken. It had “popped up” on her Facebook page which prompted her to share it. I love God “coincidences.”

Here’s the devotional that she shared…

For she thought, “If I just touch His clothing, I will get well.”

Do you ever find yourself thinking if only…

If only you could get away, if only you had a little extra time, or money. We have a yearning deep inside of us…something is missing.

In Mark 5, we encounter a woman who has been bleeding internally for 12 years. She has suffered greatly and used all her resources trying to get well. She is at the end of her rope, her hope is gone, she feels life for her is over and then she hears of Jesus and thinks, if only…

Jesus had become quite popular because He was significantly different than any other religious figure in their world and the crowds pressed in on all sides, just to be near Him.

Weak from her loss of blood, she isn’t sure she will find the strength to push to the center of the crowd. But, she has put all her hope in getting to Jesus. So determined, she thinks, if only…

Finally she makes it in to the center of the crowd and touches His robe. Jesus stops immediately and says “who touched Me?” The disciples, His closest friends, think what a ridiculous question. How can You ask who touched You when people are pressed in on all sides? But Jesus knows. And so He asks, “who touched Me?”

There is a lot of sadness in our world yet often we don’t think of reaching out to Jesus. Instead, we rely on our own abilities, other people, status, institutions, religion – everything but Jesus. We put our hope in trust-worthy and not so trust-worthy options. And yet, everyone, everything, fails us at some point. Even those who love us the most, because they are not infallible.

The woman in the story is healed and Jesus calls her daughter. Can you imagine? She has lost all hope, but He heals her and calls her daughter! He tells her it was her trust and confidence in Him that made her well. Her financial situation has not changed, she used it all up trying to find healing but she has something so much more valuable – she has peace. She has a future. She has hope!

There is only One who is constant, never changing, always there for us. One who will recognize if we “touch” Him. He knows when we reach out for Him and He responds. If only we reach out for Him…

Easter Eve

Mary Magdalene and Mary the mother of Joses saw where he was laid. (Mark 15:47)

Today is Easter Eve which we also call Holy (and sometimes Black) Saturday. On this day, Walter Wangerin suggested this message to Mary Magdalene as she struggled to make sense of the events of the previous couple of days. I want to share it with you all…

Even in your despair, observe the rituals. It is the Sabbath; then let it be the Sabbath after all. Pray your prayers. However hollow and unsatisfying they may feel, God can fill them. God is God, who made the world from nothing—and God as God can still astonish you. He can make of your mouthings a prayer—and of your groanings a hymn. Observe the ritual. Prepare your spices. Return on Sunday, even to this scene of your sorrow, expecting nothing but a corpse, planning nothing but to sigh once more and to pay respects. 

One story is done indeed, my Magdalene. You’re right. You’ve entered the dark night of the soul. 

But another story—one you cannot conceive of (it’s God who conceives it!)—starts at sunrise. And the empty time between, while sadly you prepare the spices, is in fact preparing you! Soon you will change. Soon you will become that holy conundrum which must baffle and antagonize the world: a saint. Saint Mary Magdalene. “As dying, and behold we live; as punished, and yet not killed; as sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; as poor, yet making many rich; as having nothing, and yet possessing all things”—that host of contradictions, the beauty of Spirit, the puzzle of all who know him not, the character of the saints! 

Come again on Sunday, Mary, and see how it is that God makes saints. Come, follow.

Wangerin Jr., Walter (1992). Reliving the Passion: Meditations on the Suffering, Death, and the Resurrection of Jesus as Recorded in Mark. (p. 152). Zondervan. Kindle Edition.

Joseph, the Maverick

We tend to love movies with mavericks as main characters. We think of Top Gun and certainly Top Gun Maverick. I remember the television show Maverick, starring James Garner, a maverick’s maverick. As a youngster, I loved watching Garner’s character operate outside accepted cultural norms. I secretly wanted to emulate Maverick, but as a first-born farm kid (with my dad in the room as we watched), I knew that imitating Maverick was out of the question.

Maverick – an unorthodox or independent-minded person

Unbeknownst to most of us, the etymology of maverick is fairly recent, derived from the name of Samuel A. Maverick (1803–70), a mid-19th-century Texas rancher who did not brand his cattle. Thus a secondary definition used mostly in North America: an unbranded calf or yearling.

I wonder if the attraction to mavericks is an opportunity to live vicariously through them. I wonder if deep down we’d all like to be a bit of a maverick now and then, but propriety and societal norms deter us from doing so.

Joseph of Arimathea was no maverick. He was a wealthy, first-century member of the Sanhedrin, the ruling Council of the Jewish people. As the ruling council, the Sanhedrin was comprised of the wealthy and elite. At the time of Jesus’ arrest and crucifixion, the Council had both religious and political power. The common people feared them.

Joseph wasn’t only a member, but likely a member in good standing given that he was considered a “good and upright man” (Luke 23) and a “prominent member” (Mark 15). His reputation was solid. His theology was apparently solid as well as he was waiting for the kingdom of God. He must have had “ears to hear” since he became a disciple of Jesus, though in secret because he feared the other leaders. Not wanting to risk his standing or reputation, Joseph of Arimathea was no maverick.

We also know that he did not consent to the decision and actions of the Council (Luke 23) to be rid of Jesus, though there is no evidence that he spoke out against the rest of the leadership during the “trial.” Then something happened to Joseph. Somehow, sometime between the trial and Jesus’ death, he got a backbone and became a maverick. He was different. He was not the same.

He went to Pontius Pilate, the Roman governor, with an audacious request. He asked for the body of Jesus so he could honor Him with a proper, pre-sabbath burial. In his newfound maverick-ness, Joesph’s request was audacious beyond imagination.

First, he went against the Council. They likely didn’t care about Jesus enough to follow Jewish tradition regarding burial before sundown, before the beginning of the sabbath of the Passover week. They had relinquished all kosher propriety when they tried Jesus illegally, then partnered with the Romans to silence him. “Let him hang there – we are done with him!”

Secondly, Jesus was executed for high treason. Romans didn’t allow the bodies of treasonous persons to be removed from crosses.  They got as much leverage as possible from each crucifixion.  Bodies hung for days as a reminder to those in eyesight not to ‘cross’ the Empire.  And if a body hung there over the Sabbath?  What did they care?  Caesar was their deity, not some Jewish god.

Pilate was probably in a pretty bad mood when Joseph, the maverick, made his request.  He hadn’t listened to his wife regarding Jesus.  He tried to appease and please everyone politically and it backfired.  He sent an innocent man to his death and he knew it.  The Sanhedrin had manipulated him.  They won and he lost.  Roman governors weren’t fond of being one-upped by their subjects.  What was Rome going to say about this when they found out (and they would)?

Joseph boldly went to Pilate and asked for Jesus’ body so he could bury it in his own tomb (personal tombs were for family, not criminals).  Only the wealthy and elite had their own tombs. When he, a member of the Sanhedrin, went to Pilate, he risked it all.  He risked his life – Pilate could have jailed him or even killed him.  And he risked his reputation. What would be his fate when the rest of the Council found out what he did.  What of his status?  His wealth?

But Joseph was changing.  Somewhere along his journey, he encountered Jesus.  And he began to act like a maverick – a very bold maverick.  He walked away from the identity, power, position, and comfort of being a member of the Council.  The kingdom-seeker found the kingdom at hand – Jesus.  

Encounters with Jesus change us. Always. We will never be the same. We might even become mavericks.

Maundy Thursday

In Western tradition, today, March 28, 2024, is Maundy Thursday. A day of solemnity, Maundy Thursday (also called Holy Thursday) is observed worldwide as part of the Christian Holy or Passion week. We know it to commemorate the last Passover meal that Jesus celebrated with his followers which we call the Last Supper. It’s also the night he was betrayed and arrested.

The word “Maundy” originates from the Latin word mandatum, which means “commandment” (think mandate). Therefore Mandatum, Maundy, is connected to Jesus’ commandment to his disciples on that night to love one another…

A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another.  By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another. (John 34-35)

It’s also the night Jesus washed his disciples’ feet. Thus many Christian groups imitate this action by holding a foot-washing rite on Maundy Thursday.

This year I have been traveling through Lent using Walter Wangerin’s Reliving the Passion, an amazing ‘crawl into the story’ treatise of the passion week as recorded in the Gospel of Mark. I have used it off and on over the past 25 years, experiencing new thoughts and emotions each year of its use. This year I was reminded of how Jesus lived out the Lord’s Prayer as he prayed in the Garden of Gethsemane on that night in which he was betrayed. 

Wangerin reminds his readers that Jesus often taught the same thing twice – first with words and then reinforced with actions and deeds.  On the same night in which he was betrayed, as we watch Jesus praying alone in the garden, we get a glimpse of the Lord’s Prayer actually lived out. With a deep and desperate desire, Jesus pleaded with his Father, his Abba, to be saved (rescued) and to be spared of what he knew was coming. He was living out, in raw honesty, the sixth petition of the Prayer…

Lead us not into temptation – Save us from this time of trial.

Jesus pleaded not once, not twice, but three times, Remove this cup from me, embodying the plea of the seventh petition of the Prayer…

Deliver us (me!) from evil, from the evil one. 

As Jesus pleaded with his Father, he displayed a posture and attitude of faithful and complete obedience saying, Yet not what I will, but what you will. Jesus, living out before our eyes, the third petition, “which prepares us properly for any answer God may give to all [our] other petitions” (Wangerin)…

Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.

Wangerin continued: “Implicit, hereafter, in his entering into ‘the hour’ of trial after all is his personal conviction that ‘the time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God is at hand.’ Jesus, now more than ever in his ministry, is the living embodiment of the second petition, Thy kingdom come. Right now, his acceptance of the Father’s will is the coming of that kingdom here!”

Thy kingdom come.

Jesus began both prayers addressing God as Father, with the garden prayer showing a deep intimacy – Abba, Father. It’s the expression a child has when her father comes home from work – Daddy! 

On this Maundy Thursday, we find ourselves in the midst of ongoing wars, heightened turmoil in the Middle East, global economic uncertainty, doubts about American leadership, and increased political polarization. We struggle for words to articulate our deep, raw, and maybe even desperate feelings. May the Lord’s Prayer(s) be of comfort – especially in light of Jesus’ deep, raw, and desperate prayers in the garden. Maybe during this Holy Week we, too, can learn to live the Prayer. That would be a good thing! 

Our Father, who art in heaven,
hallowed be thy name;
thy kingdom come;
thy will be done;
on earth as it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread.
And forgive us our trespasses,
as we forgive those who trespass against us.
And lead us not into temptation;
but deliver us from the evil one.
For thine is the kingdom,
the power and the glory,
for ever and ever. Amen.

Bacon and Eggs

Every couple of weeks I get to meet with two high school seniors. They wanted to deepen their faith and trust in Jesus and invited me to join them in their journey. We decided to work through the gospel of Mark together. As the shortest gospel, we hoped to possibly finish it before their graduation from high school. We just finished chapter nine, so maybe our new goal needs to be by summer’s end.

If you are familiar with Mark’s gospel, you are aware that at about midpoint everything began to change. In fact, I had the guys draw a line after verse thirty of chapter eight. I told them to pay close attention to how Jesus’ teachings would begin to ramp up…

In Mark 8:29, Peter declared Jesus to be the Messiah (which Jesus affirmed). The Messiah! The one sent by God to rescue Israel and put everything right. I can’t imagine the emotions of his disciples knowing that they were on the ground-level of a revolt against the Romans. What kinds of thoughts might have been running through their minds?

Jesus immediately (one of Mark’s favorite words) began to teach them about what was really going to happen. He began by declaring that the Son of Man (code for Messiah) must suffer many things and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests and the teachers of the law, and that he must be killed and after three days rise again. He spoke plainly about this… (Mark 8:31-32). Denial set in. No way, not possible. You are the Messiah. You must be mistaken. Peter went as far as to rebuke the Son of the living God. That didn’t go well for Peter.

Denial – the action of declaring something to be untrue

Thus the rebuke. Jesus must have been mistaken. He must have misheard his instructions. Nope! Jesus then called the crowd (lit. throng) to join in on the conversation to which he said, Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me (Mark 8:33). A different kind of denial, here.

I suspect Jesus knew exactly what he was doing when he turned the disciples denial of his declaration into the pronouncement of a different kind of denial – denial of self. And he declared it as central to follower-ship. Notice the order of things. To be my disciple you must…

Deny yourself. Take up your cross. Follow me.

What does denial of self look like? In our culture, self-denial tends to be connected to self-improvement or, religiously, to things like fasting and lent. True, they may be types of self-denial, but in context Jesus seems to have been suggesting they deny their worldview of what Messiahship might look like. It certainly wasn’t just giving up sweets.

Not only did Jesus suggest the denial of self as a prerequisite to becoming a disciple, but he also included the necessity of taking up one’s cross. We often hear statements like “it’s their cross to bear,” referring to difficult life situations or inconveniences. That is not what Jesus is intimating here. As Jesus and his disciples walked from village to village in first-century Palestine, they likely saw many crucifixions along the roadsides. The Romans didn’t carry out crucifixions in the confinement of prisons the way we conduct executions in America. Crucifixions were a very public style of execution, along byways, serving as deterrents.

So taking up one’s cross brought connotations of cruelty, pain, dehumanization, shame, and ultimately death. More than a mere inconvenience. Jesus was laying out the cost of discipleship. I have referred previously to Dallas Willard’s charge that culturally we have made discipleship optional. I guess in some ways Jesus also made it optional. He was describing the cost. The cost was all or none.

I think of the conversation between the pig and the chicken regarding their supplying of bacon and eggs to the farmer for his breakfast. The pig reminded the chicken that breakfast would cost her a couple eggs and a sore butt. For him, it was total commitment.

Deny yourself. Take up your cross. Follow me.

Behold the People!

Now at the feast he used to release for them one prisoner for whom they asked. And among the rebels in prison, who had committed murder in the insurrection, there was a man called Barabbas. And the crowd came up and began to ask Pilate to do as he was wont to do for them. And he answered them, “Do you want me to release for you the King of the Jews?” For he perceived that it was out of envy that the chief priests had delivered him up. But the chief priests stirred up the crowd to have him release for them Barabbas instead. (Mark 15:6-11)

Several years ago I published a blog post discussing an experience I had 50+ years ago while reading the passion account in the gospels (see Crucify Him!). I had become  fully aware that had I been at the Praetorium the day Jesus was “convicted,” I might have joined the chant “crucify him” because I may have lacked the courage to stand against the crowd. I remember feeling like Peter must have felt. And I too, wept bitterly. 

My Lent rhythm this year has included readings from Walter Wangerin’s Reliving the Passion. While reading the above passage, a lead-up to the crowd chant of “crucify him,” memories of that experience 50+ years ago came rushing back. Wangerin’s treatment of the Mark passage is exemplary, worthy of sharing. So here it is in its entirety…

Behold the people! Though they think themselves the force of the morning, in charge of things (by virtue of their numbers and their noise), they are in fact being put to a test which shall reveal the truth beneath their words, the reality beneath their self-assumptions and all their pretense. Behold the nature of the breed!

A crowd has gathered at the Praetorium, a rabble, an obstreperous delegation of Judeans whose presence complicates Pilate’s inclination to release Jesus. These crowds are volatile. Instead of a simple release, then, a choice is offered the people. Let the people feel in charge; let the people decide.

The Governor will, according to a traditional Passover amnesty, free one prisoner. Which will it be— Jesus of Nazareth?—whom they have falsely accused of treason against the Empire? Or Barabbas?—treasonous in fact, one who committed murder for the cause? If they choose the latter, their loyalties to the Empire (which Jesus is supposed to have offended) are revealed a vile sham, and these are no more than temporizing hypocrites, pretending any virtue to satisfy a private end.

But the Governor will release only one prisoner. Which will it be? Jesus—who is the Son of the Father, who is the Kingdom of God come near unto them? Or Barabbas—whose name means “the son of a (human) father,” flesh itself, the fleshly pretensions to god-like, personal power in the kingdoms of the world? This, precisely, is the timeless choice of humankind. If they choose the latter, they choose humanity over divinity. They choose one who will harm them over one who would heal them.

If they choose Barabbas, they choose the popular revolutionary hero, the swashbuckler, the pirate, merry Robin Hood, the blood-lusty rake, the law-flout, violence glorified, appetites satisfied, James Bond, Billy Jack, Clint Eastwood, Rambo, the celebrated predator, the one who “turns them on,” over one who asks them to “deny themselves and die.”

They choose (voluntarily!) entertainment over worship, self-satisfaction over sacrificial love, getting things over giving things, being served over serving, “feeling good about myself” and having it all and gaining the whole world and rubbing elbows with the rich rather than rubbing the wounds of the poor— The choice is before them. And they think the choice is external, this man or that man.

In fact, the choice is terribly internal: this nature or that one, good folks or people essentially selfish and evil, therefore. It’s an accurate test of their character. How they choose is who they are. Behold a people in desperate need of forgiveness.

And this, Christ, is the stunning irony: that their evil was made good in you! You knew our nature as children of wrath; you knew exactly how we would choose; you put yourself in harm’s way that our sin might kill you, that your death might redeem us even from our sinful nature! Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; it is high, and I grow dizzy thinking about it. All that I can say with certainty, but with everlasting gratitude, is— Amen.

(Wangerin Jr., Walter. Reliving the Passion: Meditations on the Suffering, Death, and the Resurrection of Jesus as Recorded in Mark. (pp. 99-100). Zondervan. Kindle Edition.)

Candles (Seeing Things Afresh)

As a kid, I was enamored by candles. I even started making candles at a pretty young age. Christmas candles were especially intriguing to a young kid. So were the candles that were lit around the house during a power outage (which were fairly regular in rural Minnesota during the 1950s-60s). I was enthralled by the dancing flames and the dancing figures they created on the walls. By the time I reached Junior High, I was pretty familiar with candles, or so I thought.

My eighth-grade science teacher gave us an assignment at the beginning of the year. Wanting us to learn to be observant, she gave us a homework assignment that involved observing a candle for 10 minutes and writing down all the things we saw. She issued a challenge to observe 10-15 things. Given my familiarity with candles, I was looking forward to the challenge, pondering it while I did my evening chores in the barn – what candle to use, where to conduct this high-level experiment, in which room, etc. I was a middle school science geek!

I was surprised at the number of things I observed, far surpassing the anticipated 10-15. What was more surprising was that despite my “familiarity” with candles, there was far more to observe than dancing figures on the wall. For the first time, I noticed the various flame colors – yellow, orange, and blue. I noticed flame shape – pointed, rounded, irregular. Pausing to watch for an extended time allowed me to observe the wax melt, pool, and drip down the side of the candle. I had never previously paid attention to smoke dispersant – the various ways the smoke rose or dispersed around the flame. I have continued to discover over the years there are lots of surprises that surpass familiarity if we are observant…

I continue to follow Anne F. Downs’ Let’s Read the Gospels podcast that she rolled out in January 2023. Throughout 2023, she read all four Gospels monthly, so I got to listen to Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John twelve times each over the year. I was constantly hearing things I never remember reading and/or hearing before. If you know me, you know that I’ve consistently and regularly read the Gospels for the past 50+ years – maybe a few hundred times each.

And I still see/hear new things.

This year Downs is reading a chapter a day. By slowing things down, I read the same text in a couple of translations while consulting an on-line Greek interlinear source. It’s been a transformative time. I see things in a different light and the Greek interlinear source is invaluable in helping understand the richness of the words the evangelists selected to describe Jesus – his teaching and his actions – and how the first-century readers would have understood what they were writing.

And I keep hearing and seeing new things

Recently, Matthew 24 was in the cue. For context, Jesus was sitting on the Mount of Olives with his disciples overlooking Jerusalem, the center of Jewish religious and political power. He had been preparing them for a future that did not include the restoration of Israel but rather a complete destruction of their beloved city. 

After listening to Downs, I then read from the Kingdom New Testament (aka New Testament for Everyone) and saw this…

And because lawlessness will be on the increase, many will find their love growing cold (Matthew 24:12).

This passage has been running through my mind since I read it, mulling over several questions: (1) What did Jesus want his disciples to hear regarding the impending fall of Jerusalem and the effect on their lives? (2) What did Matthew want the readers to hear and understand given that he may have written his gospel a dozen years after the fall? and (3) What might we want to pay attention to 2000 years later? Some of my pondering and wonderments…

(1) What did Jesus want his disciples to hear regarding the impending fall of Jerusalem and the effect on their lives? On a very basic level, I suspect Jesus wanted them to know what was coming down the pike regarding their nation and its occupancy by Rome. Keep in mind that Jesus (and his followers) knew nothing other than Roman occupancy. Nor did their parents. Or likely even their grandparents. So everyone was looking for a messiah that would restore their kingdom. 

At this stage in the journey, Jesus had spent several years teaching his followers that God’s kingdom was not going to look like a restored nation, but something entirely new and different. During the last portion of his journey with his apprentices, Jesus repeatedly (literally, repeatedly) presented them with the vision of a Messiah who was ushering in this new kind of kingdom. And that those in power (not the Romans, mind you) who were uninterested in the ethics of this new kind of kingdom would kill him. Others who cared only about a national kingdom would stay their course and revolt against the Romans with brutal and disastrous results. 

I suspect Jesus wanted his initial followers to be alert and not be caught off guard when the “City of God” is sacked. And practically, he may have been warning them of the impending brutal Roman siege and the resulting starvation.

There will be lawlessness, but don’t let your love grow cold

(2) What did Matthew want the readers to hear and understand given that he may have written his gospel a dozen years after the fall of Jerusalem? What comes to mind is the letters to the seven churches that we find in Revelation. In the face of lawlessness that resulted in suffering and persecution, they were admonished to keep their faith, to not lose their first love. These very churches could have been readers and hearers of Matthew’s gospel.

There will be lawlessness, but don’t let your love grow cold

(3) What might we want to pay attention to 2000 years later? (This could be a whole other blog post.) The word lawlessness grabbed my attention. The New Oxford Dictionary defines it as “a state of disorder due to a disregard of the law.” No big surprise here. However, look at the list of synonyms that Oxford included…

Anarchy, disorder, chaos, unruliness, lack of control, lack of restraint, wildness, riot, criminality, crime, rebellion, revolution, mutiny, insurgency, insurrection, misrule

I suspect this list contains several words we’ve heard and seen in the news in recent years. And on social media. Words that cause us to be concerned about the state of our world and society. Words wielded in the arena of cultural contention. Words that cause us to wring our hands in lament and angst. What might Jesus say to us today in the midst of all this? Maybe…

There will be lawlessness, but don’t let your love grow cold