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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 queue. 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 

Five Years!

As I write this it is February 21, 2024. Five years ago today I published the first blog post on this site. Five years! Sometimes five years seems like a long time. Other times it flies by almost unnoticed. For me, this has been one of those “I can’t believe it’s been five years already” type of thing. It’s been a good five years!

Twenty years ago I had created a blog to stay connected with young people I knew through church youth ministry or Young Life. Over time the audience grew to a diverse mix of people – younger and older. The original blog came to a grinding halt as coursework ramped up for the doctorate in education program in which I participated. After a hiatus of several years, I re-entered the world of blogging five years ago.*

I found that I deeply missed the opportunity to write and ponder. Originally I was writing and publishing blog posts to benefit others. However, I soon discovered that I was the main beneficiary, allowing others to “look over my shoulder” as I tried to make sense of and describe my theological thoughts and wonderments. Blogging has become a healthy way for me to process what I was discovering as a Christ-follower.  So I continue.

Practical theology? What do I mean by that? Actually, I was figuring this out as I wandered into this process five years ago. And I’m still figuring it out, which I think is a good thing, actually. I have always described myself as a practical theologian, using the term theologian loosely. In my thinking, a theology that doesn’t play out in one’s everyday life is impractical, or of no real use. A “practical” definition of theology is the attempt to understand God, what he is up to, and then join him in his work.

This blog has focused on just that – how we join God in his work, both globally and in that part of the world where he has landed us. We do that by focusing on Jesus Christ, the incarnate God that became flesh and blood, and moved into the neighborhood (John 1:14, MSG). While focusing on Jesus, we attempt to discover the “Jesus of scripture” over and against the “Jesus” of American/Western Christian culture.

We also focus on Jesus so that we can learn “the Jesus way,” a term coined by Eugene Peterson. Focussing on Jesus to learn his way is what a Christ-follower does. It’s integral to being a disciple, an apprentice – we spend copious amounts of time with him. Why? So we can learn from him, become like him, and join him in his work. John Mark Comer simplifies “join him in his work” as “Do as he did.”** I’ve always appreciated Dallas Willard’s description: “Do as he did/would do if he were you.” Quite practical!

I wonder what the next five years will bring?

* I am grateful to my friend Björk Ostrom for his encouragement five years ago to start blogging again and for his tutorials in WordPress. Björk is a master in WordPress. This is an example of his work: https://pinchofyum.com/

** Comer, J. M. (2024). Practicing the way : be with jesus, become like him, do as he did (First). WaterBrook. 

Tradition!

I have not watched Fiddler on the Roof in a long time, maybe 50 years. I think maybe I should again, especially in light of my personal theological development and deep dives into history these past many years (including Russian history). 

Fiddler on the Roof is a musical set in the early 20th century in a fictional Jewish village in Tsarist Russia. The central character is Tevye, a poor milkman, who grapples with the challenges of tradition, societal change, and the evolving relationships within his family. Tevye and his wife Golde strive to maintain their cultural and religious traditions while facing the pressures of external forces, including anti-Semitic sentiments and the influence of the Russian government.

The musical is laced with many great songs – If I Were a Rich Man; Matchmaker, Matchmaker; Sunrise, Sunset* to name a few. One morning recently the opening song, Tradition, came rushing to mind. I was reading the seventh chapter of the gospel of Mark…

A short overview of events in Mark 7: Several religious leaders had traveled from Jerusalem to the Galilee area to check out the new itinerant rabbi, Jesus. One can assume that word had gotten back to them in Jerusalem that this rabbi was doing some unique things. They might have arrived to validate Jesus’ ministry. Or they made the trek to check up on rumors that were filtering up to Jerusalem – that this rabbi was doing things differently and not following the acceptable rules of being a rabbi. In reading Mark’s narrative, I suspect the latter.

Upon their arrival, the Pharisees and the teachers of the law saw some of Jesus’ disciples (apprentices) eating food with unwashed and thus defiled hands. This was contrary to the tradition of the elders. In first-century Jewish tradition, much effort was exerted in the avoidance of defilement. To them, defilement was profanity. They weren’t concerned as much with personal hygiene as they were with setting themselves apart from the Gentiles that lived among them (Romans, et. al.). The word for “defiled,” koinos (“common”), signifies that the disciples had not set themselves apart for God by making themselves ritually pure. Since a rabbi trains his apprentices, their question was a not-so-subtle critique of Jesus’ teaching as contrary to Jewish tradition. So they flat-out asked Jesus,

“Why don’t your disciples live according to the tradition of the elders instead of eating their food with defiled hands?” (Mark 7:5)

They challenged Jesus by using their oral traditions as a standard by which to evaluate the actions of his disciples. Jesus responded to their challenge with a challenge of his own, pointing them to the actual scripture…

Jesus replied, Isaiah was right when he prophesied about you hypocrites; as it is written: “These people honor me with their lips,
    but their hearts are far from me.
They worship me in vain;
    their teachings are merely human rules.”  

As if Isaiah’s rebuke wasn’t enough, Jesus drove the point home: You have let go of the commands of God and are holding on to human traditions (Mark 7:8). He went on to remind them of a particular instance where they allowed their traditions to trump their God-given responsibilities to honor and care for their parents.

The operative word in this discourse is tradition, the tradition of the elders. Adherence to these oral traditions was how the people set themselves apart for God amid foreign occupation. This orally developed “law” was not law at all. It was extra stuff that infiltrated the rich and authentic law prescribed by God – a law not meant for differentiation but as a guide for God’s people to follow faithfully. 

God’s commands were trumped by tradition.

Were “traditions of the elders” simply a first-century issue? Not at all. History reveals teachings/traditions that were merely human developments (seemingly useful) which, in time, trumped God’s word. A simple example…

Over the recent Christmas break, we had a little party with our Young Life Young Adult Campaigner (Bible Study) group. I presented them with a dozen commonly-held beliefs related to our Christmas tradition in trivia form. They were simple questions like, How did Mary and Joseph travel to Bethlehem? ❄️ What did the innkeeper say to Mary and Joseph? ❄️ How many wise men came to see Jesus? ❄️ Where did the wise men find Jesus? Relying on tradition, these young people (most brought up in the Church) got these questions wrong (as did I many years ago)!

Tradition trumped scripture!

I have talked with a lot of people who are very familiar with the Word of God, but not so much with the Word that became flesh. They are familiar with the Jesus who saved us so we can join him in heaven when we die; less familiar with the Jesus who called people (us included) to follow him, to become his disciples (apprentices). Jesus’ apprentices spent inordinate amounts of time with Him, learning from him, becoming like him, and ultimately doing what he did (joining Him in his mission).

Discipleship/apprenticeship, as Dallas Willard would remind us if he were here today, has become blatantly optional. Western evangelical tradition seems to focus on our position (heaven-bound people) and not our calling to be apprenticed followers. 

After Jesus told the Pharisees and the teachers of the law, You have let go of the commands of God and are holding on to human traditions, he further drove his point home with, You have a fine way of setting aside the commands of God in order to observe your own traditions!

May we become apprentices of the Word that became flesh, so as not to allow Him to be trumped by human traditions (or other ideologies).

* Which my father-in-law sang so beautifully at our wedding.

Answers:

  1. We don’t know how they got to Bethlehem.
  2. There is no mention of an innkeeper in scripture.
  3. We don’t know how many wise men went to see Jesus.
  4. In a house (Matthew 2:11)

Self-Awareness

My friend and colleague, Chuck Jamison, has often related the story of the beginnings of his journey as a Christ-follower. As a high school kid from Kansas City, he found himself spending a week at Young Life’s Castaway Club in northern Minnesota. As he relates the experience…

It was at Castaway in the summer of 1969 and they gave us 20 minutes to go outside after the cross-talk. I remember standing in the middle of what used to be the moonball field looking up at the sky and saying “God, I don’t know if you’re up there. But if you are, I give as much of myself as I understand (which isn’t very much) to as much of you as I understand (which is even less). Then I waited for a shooting star or lightning or some sign. But nothing happened. When I told my Young Life leader what happened, he said, “Oh, if you gave him an opening, he’s in your life! You’ll see evidence of it over time.“ And I did.

I’m reminded a bit of the Apostle Simon, renamed Peter by Jesus. Jesus first met him when he was fishing with his brother, Andrew. Peter was likely 15-16 years old at the time. He was fishing, not in Hebrew school. If you recall, there were various rites of passage in the first-century Hebrew education system in which students were either invited to continue their education or “invited” to discontinue formal education to learn the trade of their father (see Follow the Leader). Peter and Andrew apparently fit the latter category.

Following the life of Peter, we find a young man filled with passion and competitiveness. (The Chosen has done a great job of capturing his personality as depicted in the gospels.) He seemed to always strive to “get it right,” whatever right du jour happened to be. He often spoke or acted before thinking. Self-awareness and self-differentiation were not his strengths. He’s the one who always seemed to get caught up in the moment, blurting out comments without thinking. Think of the Transfiguration account in which he got caught up in the excitement after witnessing Elijah and Moses in person talking with Jesus…

Peter (to Jesus): “Teacher, it’s a great thing that we’re here. We should build three shelters here: one for You, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.” He was babbling and did not know what he was saying because they were terrified by what they were witnessing. (Mark 9, The Voice)

To be fair, he did get it right at times. It was Peter who correctly declared Jesus to be the Messiah (Mark 8:29). However, once his Messiahship was out in the open, Jesus began preparing the disciples for his impending suffering and death under the direction of the religious leaders. Peter’s response? He began to rebuke the Messiah. Jesus responded with the well-known “Get behind me, Satan!” (Mark 8:33) Poor, passionate Peter. So close!

Then there was Peter’s coup de grâce – his infamous denial of Jesus recounted by all four evangelists. Again we see Jesus explaining to his followers the rejection and suffering that lay ahead and the fearful response of his followers. Peter, of course, retorted never: “Even if all fall away on account of you, I never will!” This was followed by Jesus’ prediction of Peter’s denial (which he also vehemently disagreed with: “Even if I have to die with you, I will never disown you”). True to his passion and determination, Peter protected Jesus by taking a swing at the head of one of the arresting temple servants, missing and only slicing off an ear (which Jesus put back on the guy).  Poor, passionate, undifferentiated Peter. So close!

We can’t read the denial experience without feeling his pain. But the Gospel is very good news. The Apostle John made sure to incorporate the so-called “Reinstatement of Peter” as a wrap-up to his gospel…

When they had finished eating, Jesus said to Simon Peter, “Simon son of John, do you love me more than these?”  “Yes, Lord,” he said, “you know that I love you.” Jesus said, “Feed my lambs.” Again Jesus said, “Simon son of John, do you love me?”  He answered, “Yes, Lord, you know that I love you.”  Jesus said, “Take care of my sheep.” The third time he said to him, “Simon son of John, do you love me?”  Peter was hurt because Jesus asked him the third time, “Do you love me?” He said, “Lord, you know all things; you know that I love you.”  Jesus said, “Feed my sheep. (John 21:15-17)

There is more to the “reinstatement” narrative than meets the eye. In the New Testament, we find two different Greek words translated as “love.” Agape is used to describe the compassionate, self-sacrificing type of love commensurate with the character of God. Phileo describes a fondness that one person has for another. Think of Philadelphia, the city of “brotherly love” (phileo). John used both terms when he wrote this discourse. The narrative takes on a markedly different feel when the Greek words for love are woven into the text…

When they had finished eating, Jesus said to Simon Peter, “Simon son of John, do you agape me more than these?”  “Yes, Lord,” he said, “you know that I phileo you”… Again Jesus said, “Simon son of John, do you agape me?”  He answered, “Yes, Lord, you know that I phileo you”… The third time he said to him, “Simon son of John, do you phileo me?”  Peter was hurt because Jesus asked him the third time, “Do you phileo me?” He said, “Lord, you know all things; you know that I phileo you.”

Peter was finally at a place of self-awareness. Jesus asked Peter if he could love him the way he loved Peter (agape). After the humbling events of the past week or so, I suspect Peter realized that phileo was his best shot. So that was his response to all three of Jesus’ questions. The third time, Jesus met Peter where was at: “Simon son of John, do you phileo me?” Though frustrated that Jesus seemed to have lowered his expectations of him, Peter didn’t respond with agape, with what he thought Jesus wanted to hear. 

And Jesus seemed to be OK with phileo. He didn’t change Peter’s calling to shepherd the flock. It seems that Peter was giving as much of himself as he understood (which wasn’t as much as he once thought) to as much of Jesus as he understood (which he was just beginning to understand). The rest is, as we say, history. Peter went on to become a bedrock leader in the new movement referred to as The Way. The Catholic Church posthumously revered him as the first Pope. We, like Peter, discover that…

God doesn’t call the equipped. He equips the called. 

The Man in the Iron Mask

The movie The Man in the Iron Mask is a favorite of mine. I find myself watching it annually. The 1998 adventure film is loosely based on the novel The Vicomte de Bragelonne by Alexandre Dumas. You might recall a couple other works of Dumas – The Three Musketeers and The Count of Monte Cristo. 

The movie is set in 17th-century France and revolves around the aging Musketeers – Athos, Porthos, and Aramis – during the reign of the cruel and self-indulgent ruler, King Louis XIV (portrayed by Leonardo DiCaprio). The plot centers on a secret twin brother of Louis XIV, Philippe, who is kept hidden in an iron mask to conceal his identity.

The Musketeers become aware of the King’s tyranny and decide to overthrow him. They uncover the existence of Philippe, the rightful heir to the throne, and plan to replace the draconian king with his benevolent twin. The Musketeers execute their plan to dethrone King Louis XIV and restore Philippe to his rightful position. Themes of loyalty, justice, and the abuse of power take center stage as the story unfolds with political suspense and the exploration of sacrifice and redemption.

A specific scene from the movie comes to my mind often: after Philippe had been restored to the throne, a royal ball was initiated in the king’s honor, something consistent with King Louis XIV’s demeanor. Unbeknownst to all except the Musketeers, it was Philippe, not King Louis XIV, sitting on the throne as the master of the ball. At one point a young woman stumbled and fell onto the bottom of the royal steps leading to the throne. The empathetic and kind-hearted Philippe left his throne to assist the young woman.

Kings don’t leave their thrones to assist others!

Pillipe’s action did not go unnoticed, by the Musketeers nor Louis XIV’s loyalists. So the plot quickly thickened. (No spoiler alert here – you’ll have to watch for yourself to see how things played out but you can assume a fair amount of swashbuckling.)

Kings don’t leave their thrones to serve their subjects. The recent post, Pocket Gophers – a Parable, certainly comes to mind, but it’s not what made me think of The Man in the Iron Mask. Rather a recent read of John 13, Jesus’ washing his disciples’ feet, is what triggered the memory of Philippe’s inadvertent gaffe.

It was the night before the Festival of Passover. Jesus and his followers were gathered together in the “upper room” to celebrate the Passover meal. From John 13…

Jesus knew that his time had come, the time for him to leave this world and go to the Father. He had always loved his own people in the world; now he loved them right through to the end. It was suppertime. The devil had already put the idea of betraying him into the heart of Judas, son of Simon Iscariot. Jesus knew that the Father had given everything into his hands, and that he had come from God and was going to God. So he got up from the supper-table, took off his clothes, and wrapped a towel around himself. Then he poured water into a bowl and began to wash the disciples’ feet, and to wipe them with the towel he was wrapped in. (John 13:1-5, KNT)

We love this story because Jesus of Nazareth washed his followers’ feet, taking on the role typical of a servant. We love this (and we should) because our Lord and Savior got up from the supper table and washed his followers’ feet. What a model of humility and servanthood for them and us. But Jesus wasn’t their Lord and Savior yet. He was “just” a rabbi that they were following and suspecting could be the Messiah. What Jesus did that night surpassed mere modeling. I suspect what Jesus did shook them to the core. Rabbis didn’t wash their disciples’ feet. They had and could afford servants to do that. If Rabbis didn’t wash their followers’ feet, certainly Messiah’s didn’t. Peter didn’t seem to understand Jesus’ actions. I suspect he wasn’t the only one.

Think about the significance of Jesus’ actions that surpassed mere modeling of servanthood. Jesus knew that the Father had given everything into his hands, and that he had come from God and was going to God. So he got up from the supper-table… and began to wash the disciples’ feet.

I don’t know when Jesus fully understood his vocation, but it’s clear that here he knew full well who he was as God incarnate. Not only was he the Messiah, but King of the Universe. And knowing full well who he was, he washed his followers’ feet. 

Contemplate the practicality involved in the act of washing someone’s feet. To do so requires taking a knee. Think about that. Subjects approach Kings on bended knee, not the other way around. This King, our king, not only stepped off the throne but proceeded to take a knee in the presence of his subjects. To wash their feet. To serve and honor them!

Who does that?

Parables

My wife and I have been reading Eugene Peterson’s Living the Message together to begin our day. On the day that the previous post (Pocket Gophers – a Parable), was published, Peterson provided us with a wonderful treatise on parables and the value they bring to readers/hearers. I thought, “There’s the next blog post!” So, I have captured that excerpt below for your reading pleasure…

Jesus was a master at subversion. Until the very end, everyone, including his disciples, called him Rabbi. Rabbis were important, but they didn’t make anything happen. On the occasions when suspicions were aroused that there might be more to him than title accounted for, Jesus tried to keep it quiet –”tell no one.”

Jesus’ favorite speech form, the parable, was subversive. Parables sounded absolutely ordinary: casual stories about soil and seed, meals and coins and sheep, bandits and victims, farmers, and merchants. And they are wholly secular: of his forty or so parables recorded in the Gospels, only one has its setting in the church, and only a couple mentioned the name of God.

As people heard Jesus tell these stories, they saw at once that they weren’t about God, so there was nothing in them, threatening their own sovereignty. They relax their defenses. They walked away perplexed, wondering what they meant, the stories lodged in their imagination. And then, like a time bomb, they would explode in their unprotected hearts. An abyss opened up at their very feet. He was talking about God; they had been invaded! 

Parables were “thrown alongside” what Jesus was doing – explaining his actions and God’s kingdom

Jesus continually threw odd stories down alongside ordinary lives (para, “alongside “, bole, “thrown “) and walked away without explanation or alter call. Then listeners started seeing connections: God connections, life, connections, eternity, connections. The very lack of obviousness, the unlikeness, was the stimulus to perceiving likeness: God, likeness, life, likeness, eternity, likeness.

But the parable didn’t do the work – it put the listener’s imagination to work. Parables aren’t illustrations that make things easier; they make things harder by requiring the exercise of our imagination, which, if we aren’t careful becomes the exercise of our faith.

The disciples came up and asked, “Why do you tell stories?” Jesus replied, “You’ve been given insight into God’s kingdom. You know how it works. Not everybody has this gift, this insight; it hasn’t been given to them. Whenever someone has a ready heart for this, the insights and understandings flow freely. But if there is no readiness, any trace of receptivity soon disappears. That’s why I tell stories: to create readiness, to nudge the people toward receptive insight.” Matthew 13:10-13 (MSG)

Pocket Gophers – a Parable

As you might well know, I grew up on a dairy farm northwest of the Twin Cities (Minneapolis and St. Paul, MN). The farm’s acreage was just enough to sustain the needs of a dairy herd of 100 animals. A 1600-pound cow in full milking production can put away a LOT of roughage (hay and corn silage). Therefore crop husbandry was as important as animal husbandry. High-quality alfalfa crops were essential. 

Alfalfa fields are a favorite of pocket gophers. 

Pocket gophers are small rodents that live underground in burrows they dig. The burrows can be quite elaborate, with tunnels and chambers. Their favorite habitat is grasslands, thus their attraction to hayfields. They’re not very big – about 6ish inches long with brownish/gray fur. Their cheeks have special “pockets” or pouches where they can store food for transporting to storage chambers in their burrows.

As herbivores, pocket gophers thrive on roots, especially the substantial roots of legumes like alfalfa. Rarely do they surface. One of the most distinctive features of pocket gophers is their burrowing lifestyle. They are excellent diggers and create an intricate network of underground tunnels and chambers. These burrows serve as their homes, providing protection from predators and a controlled environment for raising their young. The mounds they create are depositories resulting from their underground feats of engineering.

A typical alfalfa field’s life expectancy is 6-7 years. Once the alfalfa plant population is significantly diminished, a hayfield is plowed up and rotated with crops like corn that thrive on the residual nitrogen produced by the alfalfa.

Though the gopher’s main chambers are several feet below the surface, when plowing an old hayfield, the plow would invariably cut across the more shallow tunnels. Every once in a while, a gopher would tumble out of its tunnel into the furrow created by the plow, unable to see (bright light!), and find its way back to the tunnel.

One time I was plowing and looked back to see one such gopher frantically trying to find its way back to safety. Having a big heart that day, I decided to stop the tractor and walk back to see if I couldn’t help the gopher find its way, to rescue it. First I provided protection from the sun which I thought would be helpful, but it was not. As my shadow cast over the little guy revealing my relatively immense stature, he became increasingly frantic.

So I tried to explain that I was there to save him and (pointing) could show him the way back to his tunnel. Apparently, he didn’t understand English and instead, he ran in the opposite direction. To no avail, I called out to him that he needed to turn around, that he was going the wrong way.

Recently I was reading the Apostle Paul’s letter to the early Church in Philippi. He was admonishing them to live in humble unity and to do that they might want to have the same mindset as Christ Jesus…

Let your attitude to life be that of Christ Jesus himself.  For he, who had always been God by nature, did not cling to his privileges as God’s equal, but stripped himself of every advantage by consenting to be a slave by nature and being born a [human being]. 

(Philippians 2:5-7, JB Phillips New Testament)

What were Jesus’ privileges as God’s equal to which he did not cling in becoming a human being? For starters, he was omnipresent. He could be anywhere, anytime, all the time. He gave up his privileges as God’s equal, confined himself to the womb of one of his creation, birthed through a tiny canal into an environment that was 50ish degrees colder than the womb. Like every other human being, he needed to have his diaper changed, cried when it wasn’t, learned to feed himself, learned to walk, etc., etc. As an adult, he was limited to walking everywhere he went – at 3 miles/hour. 

As God’s equal, Jesus was omnipotent. Relegated to a human body, he was susceptible to disease just like any other human, far from omnipotence. He needed nourishment and rest, just like any of us. He was at times exhausted and emotionally stretched. Though he healed many, he couldn’t heal everyone. What was it like for him to have to walk away from people in need?

And, of course, as God’s equal he was omniscient. He gave that up, for sure. His baby brain contained the same amount of knowledge as any other baby. He likely went to Torah school, learning the story of God along with his playmates. His brain became filled with the wonders of God (Jesus grew in wisdom and stature, and in favor with God and man – Luke 2:52). Jesus was in constant contact with God (think prayer) learning and discovering the vocation to which he was called.  

What’s this got to do with a gopher? If I really cared enough about that gopher to rescue him and show him the way, I would have needed to give up my privileges as a human being and become a gopher. I would have relegated myself to living underground on a diet of alfalfa roots, risking getting plowed up every once in a while. But I like pizza and sunlight. I wasn’t at all willing to give up my privileges as a human being for the sake of a gopher.

When it comes to gophers, I apparently don’t have the same attitude as Jesus!

Dietrich Bonhoeffer Quotes

In honor and memory of the life of Timothy Keller, I publish some of my favorite quotes from his prolific writings (see Tim Keller, Author). Since the last post focused on Dietrich Bonhoeffer (A New Year’s Hymn) and he was referenced in the advent post, Mary’s Poem, I thought it fitting to create a list of some well-known and valuable quotes from his writings.

As was the case with the Tim Keller post, this exercise is intended for my own edification as much as for those reading this. So here they are, along with their sources. Enjoy!

“Jesus calls us not to a new religion but to life.”  (Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Bethge)

“The first service that one owes to others in the fellowship consists in listening to them. Just as love of God begins with listening to His Word, so the beginning of love for our brothers and sisters is learning to listen to them.”  (Life Together: The Classic Exploration of Christian Community)

“Cheap grace is the grace we bestow on ourselves. Cheap grace is the preaching of forgiveness without requiring repentance, baptism without church discipline, communion without confession… Cheap grace is grace without discipleship, grace without the cross, grace without Jesus Christ, living and incarnate.”  (The Cost of Discipleship)

“Silence in the face of evil is itself evil: God will not hold us guiltless. Not to speak is to speak. Not to act is to act.”  (Though this is often attributed to Bonhoeffer, the exact source is disputed as it doesn’t appear in any of his writings)

“Action springs not from thought, but from a readiness for responsibility.”  (Letters and Papers from Prison)

“We must be ready to allow ourselves to be interrupted by God. God will be constantly crossing our paths and canceling our plans by sending us people with claims and petitions.”  (Life Together)

“When Christ calls a man, he bids him come and die.”  (The Cost of Discipleship)

“Judging others makes us blind, whereas love is illuminating. By judging others, we blind ourselves to our own evil and to the grace which others are just as entitled to as we are.”  (The Cost of Discipleship)

“The Church is the Church only when it exists for others.”  (Letters and Papers from Prison)

“The person who loves their dream of community will destroy community, but the person who loves those around them will create community.”  (Life Together)

“The test of the morality of a society is what it does for its children.” (Ethics)

“We must learn to regard people less in the light of what they do or omit to do, and more in the light of what they suffer.”  (Letters and Papers from Prison)

“Only he who believes is obedient, and only he who is obedient believes.” (The Cost of Discipleship)

“God does not give us everything we want, but He does fulfill His promises, leading us along the best and straightest paths to Himself.”  (God is in the Manger: Reflections on Advent and Christmas)

“Earthly possessions dazzle our eyes and delude us into thinking that they can provide security and freedom from anxiety. Yet all the time they are the very source of anxiety.”  (The Cost of Discipleship)

“I can no longer condemn or hate a brother for whom I pray, no matter how much trouble he causes me.”  (Life Together)

“Nothing that we despise in the other man is entirely absent from ourselves. We must learn to regard people less in the light of what they do or don’t do, and more in light of what they suffer.”  (Letters and Papers from Prison)

“We are not to simply bandage the wounds of victims beneath the wheels of injustice, we are to drive a spoke into the wheel itself.”  (Letters and Papers from Prison)

“The will of God, to which the law gives expression, is that men should defeat their enemies by loving them.”  (The Cost of Discipleship)

“Christianity preaches the infinite worth of that which is seemingly worthless and the infinite worthlessness of that which is seemingly so valued.”  (Bonhoeffer: Pastor, Martyr, Prophet, Spy, Metaxas)

    A New Year’s Hymn

    I have been intrigued by Dietrich Bonhoeffer for most of my adult life, having read several biographies and a couple of the major works credited to him, beginning with Life Together (1938).  In Life Together Bonhoeffer reflected on the importance of Christian community and the challenges and joys of living in community with other believers, especially during tumultuous times. 

    The Cost of Discipleship (1937) is perhaps Bonhoeffer’s most famous work, in which he explored the concept of costly grace and the true meaning of discipleship. Both Life Together and The Cost of Discipleship were directly related to his resistance to the rise of the Nazi regime and to the capitulation of the state Church’s clergy to the dictates of Adolph Hitler. 

    His resistance led to the Gestapo, in 1941, forbidding Bonhoeffer to teach, write, or publish. He was required to report his whereabouts and activities to the Gestapo every month. His resistance coupled with his knowledge of plots to assassinate Hitler led to his imprisonment in April 1943. He remained in custody until his execution on April 9, 1945, at the Flossenbürg concentration camp just two weeks before it was liberated by the Allies.

    Bonhoeffer had become engaged to Maria von Wedemeyer on January 13, 1943. While in prison, he was allowed to write letters to Maria. His December 19, 1944 letter (written from the Gestapo prison in Berlin during heavy Allied air raids) included a poem he wrote that started with “Von guten Mächten” (English: “By Gracious Powers”). With an eternal perspective, the poem is laced with peace, hope, and confidence in God – evidence of an unwavering faith amid his dire circumstances. 

    Letter from Dietrich Bonhoeffer to Maria von Wedemeyer, December 19, 1944. Collection of Houghton Library, Harvard University, MS Ger 161 (43).

    The poem was published posthumously in The Cost of Discipleship under the title “New Year 1945.” Set to music in the 1950s, Von guten Mächten has become a widely sung hymn in German-speaking lands at the turn of the year. I share it with you as we enter into a new year. Bonhoeffer’s deep faith, hope, and trust in God in the face of adversity are worthy of consideration at the inception of any new year!

    Von guten Mächten (By Gracious Powers)

    Words by: Dietrich Bonhoeffer;
    trans. by Fred Pratt Green 

    Postscript: You might be interested in diving deeper into Bonhoeffer’s life. In addition to his writings listed above here are some more resources:

    • Ethics, (completed in 1943, published posthumously). This work represents Bonhoeffer’s reflections on Christian ethics and the responsibilities of Christians in the face of moral and political challenges.
    • Letters and Papers from Prison (1951) – Compiled posthumously, this collection includes Bonhoeffer’s letters and reflections written while he was imprisoned by the Nazis.
    • Bonhoeffer: Pastor, Martyr, Prophet, Spy, by Eric Metaxas. A really good and easy to read biography.
    • The 2000 film, Bonhoeffer: Agent of Grace (I’m watching in the background as I write this 🙂)

    Note: I credit our pastor, Bjorn (fluent in German), for his enlightenment regarding this hymn, unbeknownst to most American Christians. It certainly was to me!