Torah, Torah, Torah

Whenever I hear or read about Hebrew Law or Torah, my mind immediately goes to the classic WW2 movie, Tora, Tora, Tora. I can’t help it – that’s how my mind works. 😬 Torah is a significant part of Jewish history and thus an integral part of the Christian tradition as well. I suspect that we (Christians) primarily don’t know what to do with Torah. How are we to view it, especially in light of Jesus saying…

Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law [Torah] or the Prophets; I have not come to abolish them but to fulfill them. (Matthew 5:17, NIV)

So, what do we, as 21st-century Christians, do with Torah, the Law? I have oft stated that part of the value of writing a blog is to process and put to words my own theological wonderments and understanding. This is one of those times…

By definition, Torah is God’s law as revealed to Moses and captured in the first five books of the Hebrew Scriptures (Old Testament). As I write this, I realize that “law” is singular, which I suspect might be significant.

I recently spent time in Psalm 19. After talking about the splendor of God’s creation, the psalmist included a section that consists of a series of adjectives describing the character of Torah, each accompanied by a verbal phrase revealing how it impacts the life of the faithful:

7 The law [Torah] of the Lord is perfect,
    refreshing the soul.
The statutes of the Lord are trustworthy,
    making wise the simple.
8 The precepts of the Lord are right,
    giving joy to the heart.
The commands of the Lord are radiant,
    giving light to the eyes.
9 The fear of the Lord is pure,
    enduring forever.
The decrees of the Lord are firm,
    and all of them are righteous.

If Jesus has “fulfilled” or “completed” the law, does that mean the Hebrew Torah was some sort of defective system unable to accomplish what God intended? Gerald H. Wilson suggests otherwise…

Torah was God’s word for Israel. Jesus accepted Torah (and indeed the whole Old Testament) as God’s authoritative word for himself and his followers. Torah led those who related themselves rightly to it into a proper, restored relationship with Yahweh. This is not defective. It may not be the “fullness” of God’s revelation, but it rightly accomplishes what God intended it to do.1

I suspect, as the psalmist and Wilson suggest, there is a robust understanding of Torah that has been lost over time and is foreign to present-day readers. We tend to read scripture (both Hebrew and Christian) through the lens of Jesus’ death and resurrection, missing the original intent. Consider the community that sang Psalm 19 in the temple as part of their worship. Unlike today, they did not have a very complete concept of eternal life or resurrection. So what did Torah do for them?

There is a common theme that permeates and threads through the entirety of the Bible, the scripture we possess today. It’s central to the narrative of God’s new creation project as he invites humans to participate in his restoration (think salvation) activity. That theme in some manner, shape, or form…

I will be your God and you will be my people.

Is this new information for you? It was to me when I discovered it years ago and it has forever changed my lens of Biblical understanding. Theologically, it’s known as the Covenant Formula. Through Moses, God communicated to the Israelites in Egyptian captivity, needing rescue (again, think salvation)…

“I am the Lord [Yahweh], and I will bring you out from under the yoke of the Egyptians. I will free you from being slaves to them, and I will redeem you with an outstretched arm and with mighty acts of judgment. I will take you as my own people, and I will be your God.” Exodus 6:6-7, NIV

This theme, this Covenant Formula weaves throughout the entirety of the Hebrew scriptures, into and throughout the New Testament. What is somewhat fascinating is the bookend effect when we discover one of the last occurrences of the formula in the Book of Revelation…

And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Look! God’s dwelling place is now among the people, and he will dwell with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God.” Revelation 21:3, NIV

I suspect this concept that Yahweh is our God and we are his people is the lens through which the psalmist wrote and the people worshipped. Their focus was the giver of the Law. The adjectives the psalmist used to describe Torah (God’s Word to his people) also describe their God, distinguishing Him from all the other gods in their proximity. Torah revealed their God’s character, thus words like perfect, trustworthy, and righteous.

To the ancients, Torah was more instructive than prescriptive. Torah is formed from the Hebrew word yrh which means to instruct or teach. Rather than “law,” the term is more properly understood as “instruction” or “guidelines.” The psalmist and the Israelite worshippers understood Torah’s primary function to be one of guidance in right living as the people of God.

Right living, not living right.

This is not just wordplay. There is a significant difference between right living and living right. (You may want to visit Anything worth doing is worth doing right.) Torah guides people toward right living under God’s kingship. It described how people relate to Yahweh “as their God” and to each other (thus the strong focus on mercy and justice throughout the Hebrew writings).

The opposite is living right, focusing on the laws and the guardrails of right living. When driving at night, I want to keep my eyes focused on the road ahead, not the guardrails. They serve a significant purpose, but if I focus on them, I might find myself intimately acquainted with them. That’s what happened when Jesus arrived on the scene. The religious leaders had mainly taken their eyes off the intent of the Law, of Torah, and focused on the laws, concentrating on getting it right. And they got it all wrong.

Thus Jesus’ admonition to the “getting it right” Pharisees: Go and learn what this means: “I desire mercy, not sacrifice” (Matthew 9:13). The religious leaders constantly did battle with Jesus over the correct application of Torah. In what I assume to be exasperation, they asked him which of the laws (commandments) were most important. As the personified fulfillment of the Law, he reminded them of the full intent of Torah…

“Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.” This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: “Love your neighbor as yourself.” All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments. (Matthew 22:37–40, NIV)

Those are my musings on Torah. Process it as you wish (or as the Holy Spirit leads). In the meantime, when I get 2 1/2 hours to spare, I might watch Tora, Tora, Tora.

1Wilson, Gerald H. The NIV Application Commentary: From Biblical Text…to Contemporary Life Psalms Volume 1. Zondervan Publishing House, 2002.

Lent 2023

We are midway through this year’s Lenten season. Lent may or may not be something you traditionally think about. Many do. Lent (literally springtime) was popularized in the fourth century and had a different and more practical purpose than we might think seventeen centuries later. As one of the oldest Christian observations, the original intent was a period set aside for reflection and self-examination, demonstrated by self-denial, in preparation for Easter. Like other Christian holy days and holidays, it has morphed over the years, but its purpose has always been the same.

How might it have morphed? If we were to poll people this week as to the purpose of Lent, we would likely hear something about what we should give up during the 6+ weeks leading up to Easter. For many, self-denial has become the main focus. We/you might likely have a similar view. If so, we find ourselves entering this springtime with a negative perspective.

I live in Minnesota. With 2 feet of snow on the ground and another 4-6″ of snow predicted yet this week, I am not hearing many people dread the coming of spring. Who would want to approach spring sullenly? Or Lent?

The editors of Bread and Wine: Readings for Lent and Easter suggest that “Lent should never be morose – an annual ordeal during which we begrudgingly forgo a handful of pleasures. Instead, we ought to approach Lent as an opportunity, not a requirement.” After all, the main purpose of fasting (forgoing of a pleasure) is to provide more opportunities to discover and enjoy God. There is an old liturgy that refers to the Lenten season as “this joyful season.”

You may have reached this halfway point of Lent 2023 without giving it much thought. It’s not too late to step into the season. It’s never too late! How might we approach Lent this year in a manner that brings joy? Here are a few suggestions…

  • Read one of the Gospels. This is always a good starting place. You can plan your reading so that you finish at Easter, providing you with the backstory leading up to Jesus’ death and resurrection. Or listen to the Gospels with Annie F. Downs.
  • Find an online Lenten devotional like the one from Baylor University or Biola University. It’s OK to start in the middle (why do we westerners struggle with that?).
  • Find a weekly Lenten service with the express purpose of discovering and enjoying God in new ways.
  • Since we are talking about the hope of springtime, N.T. Wright’s book Surprised by Hope would be a good book to start during Lent (though it will probably take you well-past Easter to finish).

Whatever you choose to do during the remainder of this season of Lent, God will meet you, further revealing himself to you (I speak from experience). Blessings!

Gospel Immersion

Podcaster Annie F. Downs has provided an opportunity for anyone and everyone to experience all four Gospels every month. For the year 2023, she has added a second podcast, Let’s Read the Gospels. I highly recommend checking it out!

Downs’ intention is to provide an opportunity for people to be immersed in the Gospels for twelve months, knowing the year-long experience will lead to transformation. One of her favorite sayings…

You don’t have to read or hear the Gospels every day to be changed, but every day you read or hear the Gospels will change you.

Check it out. I listen every morning to start my day. It only takes 15-20 minutes. It’s been a great experience thus far.

What Might it Take?

If you have never read the book of Nehemiah in the Old Testament, you should. If you have read it, you might want to read it again, because it is a most amazing story. The books of Ezra and Nehemiah are paired together, following the historical books of Kings and Chronicles.  In the Hebrew Bible, Ezra and Nehemiah are one book entitled Ezra-Nehemiah, but the Christian canon separates them into two different books.

In the fifth century B.C., the Israelites continued to emerge from their exile in the Persian Empire. They were invaded and conquered by the Babylonians in 586 B.C., with Jerusalem and its temple destroyed in the process. God’s chosen people found themselves scattered throughout the Babylonian Empire and eventually witnessed Babylonian’s own fall to Persia.

With the Persian overthrow of Babylon, the Israelites found themselves living under a regime that was more accepting of God’s people and willing to let them return home to rebuild their nation. God raised up a series of leaders to take charge of that homegoing. Two of these were Ezra, the priest, and Nehemiah who became the governor of Judah. 

The Book of Nehemiah is basically a memoir, written by Nehemiah himself and preserved and edited by later Jewish scribes. His story picks up around 445 B.C. when he was the cup-bearer and presumably trusted advisor to the Persian king, Artaxerxes I. Though the entire memoir of Nehemiah is a worthy read, I want to focus our attention on the beginning of the story…

In the month of Kislev (Autumn), Nehemiah learned that his countrymen were in trouble and that Jerusalem’s walls and gates were still in ruins. Nehemiah’s response? In his words:

As soon as I heard these words I sat down and wept and mourned for days, and I continued fasting and praying before the God of heaven. (Nehemiah 1:4, ESV)

His prayer, captured in verses 5-11, reads like any number of Psalms. Starting by appealing to God’s covenant loyalty (see Hesed and Emet), Nehemiah called on him to “let your ear be attentive and your eyes open, to hear the prayer of your servant that I now pray before you day and night for the people of Israel your servants” (verse 6). Continuing in a typical psalmist motif, he confesses the sins of the Israelites, employing the inclusive “we.” He closed his prayer with a specific request that, as the cup-bearer, God would grant him favor with the king.

In Chapter 2, the story picks up in the month of Nisan (March-Aprilish), 4-5 months after Nehemiah received and prayed about Jerusalem’s condition. God granted Nehemiah favor with the king, possibly surpassing his own hopes. (I think of the Apostle Paul’s prayer “to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine…” [Ephesians 3:20]). The story in a nutshell…

The king noticed Nehemiah’s melancholy countenance and asked what was troubling him. In fear, he shared with the king his lamentation over the fact that Jerusalem lay in rubble. The king asked, “What are you requesting?” Nehemiah’s response to this most favorable question:

So I prayed to the God of heaven.  And I said to the king, “If it pleases the king, and if your servant has found favor in your sight, that you send me to Judah, to the city of my fathers’ graves, that I may rebuild it. (Nehemiah 2:4-5, ESV)

Nehemiah then proceeded to lay out a time frame as well as a plan to rebuild the city, starting with the walls and gates. He audaciously asked Artaxerxes that the provincial governors ensure his safe travel. He also asked for kingdom resources, like timbers for beams to rebuild the gates. The king granted Nehemiah’s requests and topped it off with an army escort back to Jerusalem.

So I prayed…and I said

This is where I want to park for a bit. I have heard many a sermon suggest that Nehemiah prayed and God, in that moment, gave him the exact words to say along with the plans. There is certainly something to that, but I fear it’s too simplistic and doesn’t do justice to the God/human relationship we see throughout the biblical narrative.

Consider this: Nehemiah had 4+ months to ponder the situation back in Jerusalem. I can imagine him repeatedly asking the question, “What might it take?” as he pondered his God-inspired vision to repair the walls and reinvigorate the city. I think Dallas Willard’s description of prayer (“Talking with God about what we are doing together”) is apropos. Though rhetorical in nature, “What might it take?” could have been the ongoing prayer as Nehemiah talked with God about his vision.

I suspect Nehemiah’s response to the king’s question “What are you requesting?” was a natural outcome of months of pondering, talking with God, and asking “What might it take?”

I actually experience something similar 25 years ago. We had moved to a community with the task of reviving its 30-year-old Young Life ministry that was in disarray (rubble?) – to the point that major stakeholders questioned its continued viability. Six weeks into my tenure, I visited the monthly meeting of the community’s youth ministers. After introductions, I was asked to tell a bit of my story – my youth ministry background, what led to my taking the Young Life position, etc.

One of the youth ministers asked a question I did not anticipate: “How might we, as youth ministers, help Young Life get back on track in our community?” I suddenly realized how Nehemiah might have felt! So I prayed and I said, “Send your best kids to Young Life – those who need to be in mission; those who need a neutral place to invite their friends. Young Life can be that place for them.”

I had pondered for years (talking with God!) about how I might work alongside a ministry like Young Life, should I ever join a church staff as the youth minister. I didn’t know exactly what it might look like, but I did know that I would want to make sure my best kids were aware that such a great neutral option was available to them, so they could minister to friends.

And the result? The initial responses were looks of surprise, maybe even shock. But two of the ten youth ministers took me up on the offer. We saw weekly attendance immediately increase from a few to about 100, continuing for the duration of my tenure. I suspect the impact of the question has had a far-reaching impact – far more than the asker dreamed or imagined.

The Leper Story

Recently my wife, Barb, had the privilege of giving a talk to the middle schoolers at our Church. As she prepped for the talk, she read it to me. My immediate thought: “I need to include it in a blog post.” So, here it is…

When I got engaged to my husband, Curt, he was hanging out with high school-age kids from our church and kids who didn’t go to church. He loved them so much that he eventually went on to get a job in youth ministry. Most of my married life has been spent around a lot of teenagers!

I grew to love the kids too and eventually took some girls to camp. When we got back, we started a weekly Bible study in my home. Some of the girls had started a relationship with Jesus at camp and a couple others weren’t sure what they thought of him.

Colossians 1:15 says Jesus is the visible expression of the invisible God. So if we want to know what God is like we need to take a good look at Jesus. What made him mad, what made him sad, and even happy? How did he treat people? What kind of people did he spend his time with? How can anyone really know if they can trust God unless they spend time getting to know him first?

With my group of girls, we started by looking into the Gospels to get to know Jesus. There are four books in the New Testament called the Gospels. Two of the Gospels were written by men who spent a lot of time with Jesus; one was written by someone who lived during Jesus’ life and later became a follower; and one was written by a doctor who also became a follower, talking to all sorts of people who had spent time with Jesus, gathering information so he too could write an account of Jesus’ life. 

So I’d like us to take a look at one story about Jesus told in three of the Gospels. I think it might be an important story since it is in three of them.

Jesus and the Leper in “The Chosen”

This story is about a leper. You’ve maybe heard the term ‘leper’ before but unless we know what it was like to be a leper in Jesus’ day we can’t possibly understand what a big deal it was for Jesus to heal him.

Leprosy was considered to be a curse from God. So lepers would have believed that God was angry at them and punishing them for something they did.

Lepers were shunned by others, meaning they weren’t allowed to live with their family or friends.  They had to live outside their community with other lepers. They couldn’t go to school or work. Now you might think that doesn’t sound so bad until you understand that the reason they couldn’t work or go to school was because the disease caused them to have extremely ugly, and very painful sores on their skin. It affected their nervous system and eventually caused them to lose their fingers or limbs. It was a horrific disease.

Now the townspeople cared for lepers by bringing them food but they didn’t go near them and they never touched them. Someone who had leprosy would have to keep their distance from everyone else and if they did approach someone, they would have to ring a bell and call out “Unclean, unclean.”

Will you please close your eyes for a minute and imagine having painful sores all over your body? Now, imagine that you are going through that pain alone. You are living with others who are in pain as well, but you are not with your loved ones. And now lastly, think about what it would be like if you had to ring a bell to announce yourself and let others know you are unclean. I can’t think of many things that would make me feel more self-conscience.

In the story, the leper has heard that Jesus can heal people. He must have been feeling desperate because he took a chance on Jesus. Remember Jesus represented God and lepers believed God was punishing them for some sin. But he took a chance. Listen to the brief story as told in Matthew, Chapter 8…

1 When Jesus came down from the mountainside, large crowds followed him. 2 A man with leprosy came and knelt before him and said, “Lord, if you are willing, you can make me clean.”  3 Jesus reached out his hand and touched the man. “I am willing,” he said. “Be clean!” Immediately he was cleansed of his leprosy. 

Isn’t that a nice story? The leper is healed, and all is well.  Except if you were the leper, you have a much deeper wound than even the horrible disease of leprosy. No one would have come close to you let alone hugged you for as long as you had the disease.  

When the leper approached Jesus, he no doubt kept his distance, and we know he took a position of humility by kneeling. Some translations say he begged Jesus to heal him. Jesus could have healed him from exactly where he was standing but that isn’t what he did.

This is the part I love – Jesus touched the leper. He healed the man in the place he was the most wounded, his heart. After years of being shunned, keeping his distance from people, and being fed like a dog but not loved like one, he was healed of the physical and emotional pain he had experienced all those years.

He was fed like a dog but not loved like one.

Jesus not only healed him and treated him with dignity, but he also contradicted what society thought about lepers.  Jesus communicated that God was not angry at him.

Whom do you relate to most in this story?  The leper or someone who kept their distance.   How might this change the way you see Jesus?  Or yourself?

The Most Fascinating Person in the Universe

When I was serving as the Director of Youth Ministries at Central Lutheran Church in Elk River, MN, we developed some core values – we called them “non-negotiables.” We agreed that we would focus on Jesus, the most fascinating person in the universe. A couple concurrent values: (1) every kid has the right to know the most fascinating person in the universe and (2) it’s a sin to bore a kid with the most fascinating person in the universe.

Recently I was checking in on my pastor friend, Matt Woodley. He is the Cathedral Vicar of the Church of the Resurrection in Wheaton, IL. Like most churches, their website is designed with typical drop-down header menus, like “About Us,” “Connect,” “Next Steps,” “Sermons,” “Give,” etc. The Church of the Ressurection’s website has a curious menu option – Jesus. After clicking on “Jesus” and reading the content, written by Matt Woodley, I immediately wanted to share it in a blog post. So here it is – enjoy!

Christ Banner by longtime Resurrection artist Ray Wu

The British mystery writer and playwright Dorothy Sayers noted there’s one thing we cannot say about Jesus Christ—that he was a bore. “On the contrary,” Sayers once wrote, the people who opposed Jesus, “thought him too dynamic to be safe.”  

When I first started reading the historical accounts of Jesus, I was captivated by Jesus’ life and teaching. After spending most of his life as a refugee and then a blue-collar craftsman, he started announcing a dynamic new message. The Kingdom of God is here, he said, so turn your whole life around to get ready for it. He claimed his message was the best good news the world has ever seen. 

He made outlandish (unless they were true) claims about himself—like “I am the way, the truth, and the life” or “I have authority on earth to forgive sins.” He railed against the religious leaders of his day, calling them hypocrites and “white-washed tombs.” 

And yet he often displayed remarkable tenderness to normal or even “bad” people—like the owners of a small family fishing business, low-level government officials mired in corruption, a terrorized woman caught in the act of adultery, or a father and mother grieving the death of their twelve-year-old daughter. Through these simple, tender encounters, Jesus offered a new vision for dignifying and redeeming a broken but yearning humanity. 

Jesus is utterly un-boring, fresh, and fascinating.

Yes, Jesus is utterly un-boring, fresh, and fascinating. The award-winning essayist John Jeremiah Sullivan once joked about the “Jesus phase” that he and many of his friends passed through in high school. But after snubbing the faith of his childhood, Sullivan said he often has doubts about his doubts. He admits that he still can’t get over the Jesus of his “Jesus phase.” “My problem isn’t… that I feel a sucker for having bought it all,” Sullivan laments. “It’s that I [still] love Jesus Christ.”  Jesus Christ—his life and teaching and also his death and resurrection—are at the center of everything we believe and do at the Church of the Resurrection. To us he’s not only a fascinating historical figure; he’s also the world’s deepest hope and only savior. (Matt Woodley, Cathedral Vicar, Church of the Resurrection)

Addendum, February 11, 2023. William Willimon (retired Duke Divinity School and Methodist Bishop): “Why Jesus? Because he’s the most fascinating person in the world.” *

* Willimon, W. H. (2010). Why Jesus? Abingdon Press, ix (intro)

Kyrie Eleison

I am presently in the midst of a chronological read of the Bible. Many years ago, I came across a plan that allows a person to read through the Bible in a year, reading the stories fairly chronologically – reading concurrent Old Testament stories from Kings, the Chronicles, the Psalms, and/or the prophets. Or gospel stories from the writings of all four evangelists (Matthew, Mark, Luke, or John).

If you know me, you may not be surprised that I’m not a big fan of read-through-the-Bible-in-a-year programs. I have nothing against them per se – but they can be a setup for failure. I’ve watched far too many people start the year-long process in January and peter out by mid-February. (In the same vein, I’ve witnessed far too many people start January fitness plans with similar shelf lives.)

So why am I engaged in such a plan? For the chronology, not the associated time frame. I started this particular read-through in June 2020. Following the laid-out chronology, I’m slowly working my way through scripture using two (and sometimes three) translations. My go-to translations are The Voice and the NIV supplemented by listening on Audible. I might be going slow but I am, in fact, successfully reading through the Bible chronologically, which was my original intent. (If you’ve ever read The Story, you understand the value of chronological scripture reading.)

I am presently reading through the four Gospels, following Jesus’ final journey up to Jerusalem for the Passover and his ultimate execution. The typical route from Galilee required traveling through Jericho, about 20 miles East of Jerusalem. During this particular trip through Jerichico Jesus encountered Zacchaeus, inviting himself to dinner, and spending the afternoon with the tax collector (Luke 19). Inviting oneself to dinner was an honor in first-century Jewish culture. It was a transformative afternoon for Zacchaeus and I assume for the townspeople. And I’m sure for his disciples as well (though three years into their journey with Jesus, they were maybe starting to get used to his radical and revolutionary behavior).

As Jesus and his entourage headed out of town, they were confronted by two blind men sitting by the roadside (Matthew 20). When they heard that Jesus was passing by, they shouted…

Lord, Son of David, have mercy on us!

Lord have mercy! These guys knew their scripture. Their scripture, the Hebrew Law, Prophets, and Psalms, were laced with “Lord have mercy” language. Following the traditional understanding of the covenant relationship between the one true God (Yahweh) and His people, they called out to Jesus for mercy.

The Greek word for mercy is eleison. The corresponding Hebrew word for eleison is hesed, which we have discussed a number of times in this blog (see Hesed and Emet, Persistence, Veritas). Hesed is a rich and robust term that surpasses our understanding of mercy. It describes covenant loyalty and relational fidelity. It is freely given, often unexpectedly, without requiring anything in return. (I think of Barrington Bunny.)

When the blind men called out to Jesus, they were making assumptions about his connection to Yahweh (Son of David reference) and the associated covenant loyalty. Based on rumors they probably heard about this Jesus, they called out to him, “Lord have mercy!” They preceived that Jesus might be willing and able to heal them, so they called out for mercy. Moved by compassion, Jesus touched their eyes, giving them sight. And they followed him.

Central to following Jesus is the concept of trust. “Lord have mercy!” It seems the two blind men trusted Jesus before there was any hope of receiving their sight. In fact, the crowd rebuked them but they persisted in their appeal to his eleison. “Lord have mercy!” is a prayer model worthy of our attention.

I discovered eleison in this story by employing a Greek Interlinear New Testament. In the process, I discovered the Greek for “Lord have mercy” to be kyrie eleison. Kyrie eleison may be familiar to you. It certainly is in Eastern Orthodox traditions, embedded in their worship liturgy as Kýrie, eléison; Christé, eléison; Kýrie, eléison (“Lord, have mercy; Christ, have mercy; Lord, have mercy”). It is traditionally known as “The Jesus Prayer.” Not a bad prayer to pray.

Kýrie, eléison; Christé, eléison; Kýrie, eléison.

A side note: If you are of an age that remembers 80s music, you may recall the Mister Mister song, Kyrie Eleison. I always found the beginning of the chorus intriguing: “Kyrie eleison down the road that I must travel…”

ADDENDUM 1/31/2023: Annie F. Downs has created a podcast that will help listeners experience all four Gospels twelve times during the year 2023. It’s called Let’s Read the Gospels. Enjoy!

Barrington Bunny, The Story

A couple years ago I mentioned in a blog post Martin Bell’s short story, Barrington Bunny, from his 1983 book, The Way of the Wolf: The Gospel in New Images. Here’s the story, should you want to read it this Christmas season…

ONCE upon a time in a large forest there lived a very furry bunny.  He had one lop ear, a tiny black nose, and unusually shiny eyes.  His name was Barrington.

Barrington was not really a very handsome bunny.  He was brown and speckled and his ears didn’t stand upright.  But he could hop, and he was, as I have said, very furry.

In a way, winter is fun for bunnies.  After all, it gives them an opportunity to hop in the snow and then turn around to see where they have hopped.  So, in a way, winter was fun for Barrington.

But in another way winter made Barrington sad.  For, you see, winter marked the time when all of the animal families got together in their cozy homes to celebrate Christmas.  He could hop, and he was very furry.  But as far as Barrington knew, he was the only bunny in the forest.

When Christmas Eve finally came, Barrington did not feel like going home all by himself.  So he decided that he would hop for a while in the clearing in the center of the forest. 

Hop.  Hop.  Hippity-hop.  Barrington made tracks in the fresh snow.

Hop.  Hop.  Hippity-hop.  Then he cocked his head and looked back at the wonderful designs he had made.

“Bunnies,” he thought to himself, “can hop.  And they are very warm, too, because of how furry they are.”

(But Barrington didn’t really know whether or not this was true of all bunnies, since he had never met another bunny.)

When it got too dark to see the tracks he was making, Barrington made up his mind to go home.

On his way, however, he passed a large oak tree.  High in the branches, there was a great deal of excited chattering going on.  Barrington looked up.  It was a squirrel family!  What a marvelous time they seemed to be having.

“Hello, up there,” called Barrington.

“Hello, down there,” came the reply.

“Having a Christmas party?” asked Barrington.

“Oh, yes!” answered the squirrels.  “It’s Christmas Eve.  Everybody is having a Christmas party!”

“May I come to your party?” Said Barrington softly.

“Are you a squirrel?”

“No.”

“What are you, then?”

“A bunny.”

“A bunny?”

“Yes.”

“Well, how can you come to the party if you’re a bunny?  Bunnies can’t climb trees.”

“That’s true,” said Barrington thoughtfully.  “But I can hop and I’m very furry and warm.”

“We’re sorry,” called the squirrels.  “We don’t know anything about hopping and being furry, but we do know that in order to come to our house you have to be able to climb trees.”

“Oh, well,” said Barrington.  “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” chattered the squirrels.

And the unfortunate bunny hopped off toward his tiny house.

It was beginning to snow when Barrington reached the river.  Near the river bank was a wonderfully constructed house of sticks and mud.  Inside there was singing.

“It’s the beavers,” thought Barrington.  “Maybe they will let me come to their party.”

And so he knocked on the door.

“Who’s out there?” called a voice.

“Barrington Bunny,” he replied.

There was a long pause and then a shiny beaver head broke the water.

“Hello, Barrington,” said the beaver.

“May I come to your Christmas party?” asked Barrington.

The beaver thought for a while and then he said, “I suppose so.  Do you know how to swim?”

“No,” said Barrington, “but I can hop and I am very furry and warm.”

“Sorry,” said the beaver.  “I don’t know anything about hopping and being furry, but I do know that in order to come to our house you have to be able to swim.”

“Oh, well,” Barrington muttered, his eyes filling with tears.  “I suppose that’s true – Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” call the beaver.  And he disappeared beneath the surface of the water.

Even being furry as he was, Barrington was beginning to get cold.  And the snow was falling so hard that his tiny, bunny eyes could scarcely see what was ahead of him.

He was almost home, however, when he heard the excited squeaking of field mice beneath the ground.

“It’s a party,” thought Barrington.  And suddenly he blurted out through his tears, “Hello, field mice.  This is Barrington Bunny.  May I come to your party?”

But the wind was howling so loudly and Barrington was sobbing so much that no one heard him.

And when there was no response at all, Barrington just sat down in the snow and began to cry with all his might.

“Bunnies,” he thought, “aren’t good to anyone.  What good is it to be furry and to be able to hop if you don’t have any family on Christmas Eve?”

Barrington cried and cried.  When he stopped crying he began to bite on his bunny’s foot, but he did not move from where he was sitting in the snow.

Suddenly, Barrington was aware that he was not alone.  He looked up and strained his shiny eyes to see who was there.

To his surprise, he saw a great silver wolf.  The wolf was large and strong and his eyes flashed fire.  He was the most beautiful animal Barrington had ever seen.

For a long time, the silver wolf didn’t say anything at all.  He just stood there and looked at Barrington with those terrible eyes.

Then slowly and deliberately the wolf spoke.  “Barrington,” he asked in a gentle voice, “why are you sitting in the snow?”

“Because it’s Christmas Eve,” said Barrington, “and I don’t have any family, and bunnies aren’t any good to anyone.”

“Bunnies are, too, good,” said the wolf.  “Bunnies can hop and they are very warm.”

“What good is that?” Barrington sniffled.

“It is very good indeed,” the wolf went on, “because it is a gift that bunnies are given, a free gift that bunnies are given, a free gift with no strings attached.  And every gift that is given to anyone is given for a reason.  Someday you will see why it is good to hop and to be warm and furry.”

“But it’s Christmas,” moaned Barrington, “and I’m all alone.  I don’t have any family at all.”

“Of course you do,” replied the great silver wolf.  “All of the animals in the forest are your family.”

And then the wolf disappeared.  He simply wasn’t there.  Barrington had only blinked his eyes, and when he looked – the wolf was gone.

“All of the animals in the forest are my family,” thought Barrington.  “It’s good to be a bunny.  Bunnies can hop.  That’s a gift.”  And then he said it again.  “A gift.  A free gift.”

On into the night, Barrington worked.  First, he found the best stick that he could.  (And that was difficult because of the snow.)

Then hop.  Hop.  Hippity-hop.  To beaver’s house.  He left the stick just outside the door. 

With a note on it that read: “Here is a good stick for your house.  It is a gift.  A free gift.  No strings attached.  Signed, a member of your family.”

“It is a good thing that I can hop,” he thought, “because the snow is very deep.”

Then Barrington dug and dug.  Soon he had gathered together enough dead leaves and grass to make the squirrel’s nest warmer.  Hop.  Hop.  Hippity-hop.

He laid the grass and leaves just under the large oak tree and attached this message: “A gift.  A free gift.  From a member of your family.”

It was late when Barrington finally started home.  And what made things worse was that he knew a blizzard was beginning.

Hop.  Hop.  Hippity-hop.

Soon poor Barrington was lost.  The wind howled furiously, and it was very, very cold.  “It certainly is cold,” he said out loud.  “It’s a good thing I’m so furry.  But if I don’t find my way home pretty soon even I might freeze!”

Squeak.  Squeak. . . .

And then he saw it – a baby field mouse lost in the snow.  And the little mouse was crying.

“Hello, little mouse,” Barrington called.

“Don’t cry.  I’ll be right there.”  Hippity-hop and Barrington was beside the tiny mouse.

“I’m lost,” sobbed the little fellow.  “I’ll never find my way home, and I know I’m going to freeze.”

“You won’t freeze,” said Barrington.  “I’m a bunny and bunnies are very furry and warm. 

You stay right where you are and I’ll cover you up.”

Barrington lay on top of the little mouse and hugged him tightly.  The tiny fellow felt himself surrounded by warm fur.  He cried for a while but soon, snug and warm, he fell asleep.

Barrington had only two thoughts on that long, cold night.  First, he thought, “It’s good to be a bunny.  Bunnies are very furry and warm.”  And then, when he felt the heart of the tiny mouse beneath him beating regularly, he thought, “All of the animals in the forest are my family.”

The next morning, the field mice found their little boy, asleep in the snow, warm and snug beneath the furry carcass of a dead bunny.  Their relief and excitement was so great that they didn’t even think to question where the bunny had come from.

And as for the beavers and the squirrels, they still wonder which member of their family left the little gifts for them that Christmas Eve.

After the field mice had left, Barrington’s frozen body simply lay in the snow.  There was no sound except that of the howling wind.  And no one anywhere in the forest noticed the great silver wolf who came to stand beside that brown, lop-eared carcass.

But the wolf did come.

And he stood there.

Without moving or saying a word.

All Christmas Day.

Until it was night.

And then he disappeared into the forest.

The First Last Supper

A couple of Sundays ago, we celebrated communion (often referred to as the Last or Lord’s supper) during worship at our church. My wife and I were privileged to serve others in our congregation. After the service, I reflected on an email conversation I had earlier in the week with a friend regarding the first Last Supper that Jesus celebrated with his followers.

The timing of Jesus’ Last Supper was the annual Passover celebration meal. As Jesus’ followers settled in for the all-night celebration, it became apparent that this one wouldn’t be a typical Passover meal. What made it untypical? Jesus!

A little context as a reminder of the significance of the Passover celebration and meal for the first-century Israelites (i.e., all of Jesus’ followers), which had been celebrated every year for about 13 centuries. The back story…

Leonardo da Vinci’s Last Supper, 1495-1498

The Israelites had moved from Canaan to Egypt during a drought (cf. Joseph and his Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat). In time, they outnumbered the Egyptians, were conscripted and enslaved, and moved off their land and into ghettos. They were enslaved for 430ish years.

How long are 430 years? Some American context: 430 years ago, around 1600, England had just begun to colonize North America. Think about what has changed in our world since then.  430 years is a long time.

God, through Moses, demanded the release of his people with the familiar “Let my people go” command. The Egyptian ruler, Pharaoh, refused. God sent a number of plagues to encourage Pharaoh to rethink his stance. Instead of softening, after each plague Pharaoh dug his heels in and treated God’s people more unjustly.

Finally, God sent an Angel of Death.  As payment for Pharaoh’s relentlessness, this angel of justice would fatally visit Egypt, resulting in the death of the firstborn of every household in the land – Egyptian and Israelite. God provided a means of protection for his people. They were to slay a lamb, spreading the blood on the doorframes of their homes.  If they obeyed, this angel of death would pass over the house, saving the firstborn. Finally, Pharaoh relented and let the Israelites go.

This is what the Israelites celebrated every year. Each of Jesus’ followers likely made an annual 80-90 mile trek from Galilee to Jerusalem to celebrate Passover. This particular celebration was no exception. Throughout the Gospels, we can read the story associated with the trek to Jerusalem for what turned out to be their last Passover celebration (cf. Matthew 19-26, Mark 10-14, Luke 17-21, John 11-13).

So, in the first-century Jewish culture, Passover was a BIG deal. Like Christmas or Easter.

The Passover meal kicked off the week-long celebration. Meal preparation began early afternoon with the slaying of a lamb at the temple whose blood was sacrificially sprinkled on the altar. The lamb was then roasted to be served at the Passover meal. The Jewish historian Josephus recorded that 255,600 lambs were slaughtered in the temple in 66 AD, the year the temple was completed. From that, Josephus calculated that approximately 2 1/2 million people were present in Jerusalem that year (assuming one lamb to about 10 people).

The Meal was more than just a meal. It was a well-scripted (think liturgy) religious celebration in which the host helped the participants remember the Exodus story, that event 430 years prior in which God rescued them from the Egyptian slave-holders. That’s not a short story to tell. I recently listened to Flavious Josephus’ rendition of the Exodus story in his Antiquities of the Jews, a rendition that took over two hours to narrate. Not a short story!

There were four distinct parts to the six-hour meal, each followed by a cup of wine. First, the host (presumably Jesus, in this case) offered the first cup of wine and a scripted prayer of blessing, something like this: “Blessed art thou, O Lord, our God, King of the world.” Then someone (usually a child) asked, “Why is this night different from other nights?” and the host retells the WHOLE story.

Thirdly, was the meal itself. Finally! The host blessed the food and the people began to partake. The meal consisted of unleavened bread, herbs, greens, stewed fruit, and roasted lamb. The evening was concluded with the singing of the Hallel (i.e. halleluiah) Psalms (Psalms 113-118).

The evening was so scripted that any variance would not go unnoticed. Kind of like reading to a child their favorite book and getting a sentence wrong. They would know and let you know of any discrepancies.

Jesus varied from the script that night in discrepant ways.

First, he announced that one of the Twelve would betray Him. The evening started with a mic drop of colossal proportions. When it was time to eat, Jesus took the bread and gave thanks, presumably saying the scripted prayer, “Blessed art thou, O Lord, our God, King of the world, who brings forth bread from the earth.” Then he deviated with “Take it; this is my body.” (Mark 14:22). I can envision his disciples, well aware of the deviation, looking at each other in wonderment. “What could he mean?” Another mic drop of sorts.

As if that wasn’t enough, Jesus deviated from the script one more time. He took one of the cups of wine*, gave thanks, and passed it to his followers to drink. As they were drinking the wine, he deviated greatly from the script with “This is my blood of the [new] covenant, which is poured out for many” (Mark 14:24). This deviation was completely outside first-century Jewish thought. Touching blood resulted in ceremonial uncleanliness, which is presumably why the priest and Levite went around the beaten man in the good Samaritan parable. Drinking of blood? Totally forbidden.

Jesus had, in one evening, reshaped the entire belief system of his little band of followers.

Which turned out to be a very good thing as we look back on history. Jesus, in deviating from the expected script, turned his followers’ heads toward a different and more complete understanding of God, his kingdom, and their role in his kingdom. The scripts they were familiar with were part of the story, but not the whole story. Jesus crashed through the comfortable and familiar to give them a new, more complete perspective of God and their calling.

May we always be willing to let Jesus disrupt the comfortable and familiar certainties of our faith with broader perspectives.

* It is believed that it was the Cup of Redemption that Jesus instructed the disciples to partake of in the last supper since both accounts in Matthew and Luke describe the cup being taken after the meal.

Woodworking and God’s Poiema

A surprising advantage of woodworking using hand tools – one can quietly prep boards and layout dovetails during a Church service! A dozen or so years ago I got to do just that. My friend Sonja preached a sermon focused on Ephesians 2, specifically, For we are [God’s] workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared ahead of time for us to do (Eph. 2:10, CSB). She asked me if I would relocate my workbench and some tools to the church sanctuary stage and do some woodworking stuff as she gave her message.

As I prepared boards to cut dovetails that Sunday morning, I contemplated the significance that I, Curt Hinkle, am God’s workmanship. What does it mean to be God’s workmanship? And what does it mean that I am his workmanship with purpose? And what are those good works for which God has prepared for me? Some thoughts…

I notice that the Apostle Paul said we are God’s workmanship, not you (or Curt Hinkle, for that matter). In our western, American individualistic approach to faith, it’s an easy miss. I don’t doubt that this is a truism applicable to the individual, but we need to remember that Paul is addressing the Church in Ephesus. It seems that he is saying that Christ-followers as a whole unit are his workmanship, created for good works – individually and corporately.

So, let’s look at what Paul might be saying both individually and corporately. The root Greek word for workmanship is poiema (ποίημα). It describes God’s creative activity. It’s the word from which poem and poetry are derived. It has also been translated as accomplishment, masterpiece, handiwork, or a product of his hand. The Jerusalem Bible’s translation of Ephesians 2:10:

We are God’s work of art, created in Christ Jesus for good works which God has already designated to make up our way of life.

God’s work of art! In The Problem of Pain, C.S. Lewis describes us as “Divine work(s) of art, something that God is making…” Or, as Timothy Keller has been oft quoted…

Do you know what it means that you are God’s workmanship? What is art? Art is beautiful, art is valuable, and art is an expression of the inner being of the maker, of the artist. Imagine what that means. You’re beautiful … you’re valuable … and you’re an expression of the very inner being of the Artist, the divine Artist, God Himself.

As a woodworker, I know that every project I work on is a unique creation. Every year I try to make gifts for each of our four kids. On the surface, they all appear to be the same but they are not. They each have nuances related to things like wood types, grain orientation, blemishes, and, of course, operator error. What they do have in common that cannot be taken away from them: They are each a unique creation of mine, an expression of my creative activity.

The Apostle Paul used poiema only one other time in his writings that are included in the New Testament canon. In Romans 1:20 he states…

For since the creation of the world, God’s invisible qualities—his eternal power and all the things that make him God [his divine nature] – have been clearly seen [perceived], understood through what God has made (poiema). (EXB)

To be God’s poiema is a big deal! It’s right up there with all of creation (which we discussed in The Theology of Woodworking). We are visible expressions of the invisible God. As a high schooler once said to me, “We get to be walking billboards.” It’s the “good works” we were created for. What a privilege!

With woodworking, there is a point where I, the artist, say “good enough.” It’s not a statement of shoddiness. It’s more of a comment about return on investment. At some point, I deem a project complete enough for its intended purpose. Satisfied with my poiema, I move on to the next project.

I am aware that not all of us consider it a privilege to be “walking billboards” due to real or perceived warts. But Paul didn’t say “For we are [God’s] workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works someday.” There is a present tense implication. God’s creative activity is ongoing in the form of transformation into the likeness of his Son (For God knew his people in advance, and he chose them to become like his Son – Romans 8:29). He doesn’t say “good enough.” As we continue to follow him, the warts (real and perceived) begin to fade.

Transformation. We’ve talked about that in previous blog posts (cf. Metamorfoo). We must remember that it’s not our job to transform ourselves. Our job is to follow Jesus, positioning ourselves so God can accomplish the transformation – For God is at work within you, helping you want to obey him, and then helping you do what he wants (Philippians 2:13, TLB). This is the entirety of C.S. Lewis’ quote from The Problem of Pain…

“We are a Divine work of art, something that God is making and therefore something with which He will not be satisfied until it has a certain character.”

Lord – We are clay, and You are the potter. We are the product of Your creative action, shaped and formed into something of worth (Isaiah 64:8, The Voice).