Text: Luke 19: 28 - 40
The stories preceding this story are not all happy and joyful. Some are but to me they certainly don't build to this "Triumphal Entry into Jerusalem."
At the end of chapter 18, Jesus foretells his death and resurrection for the third time in Luke's gospel. And for the third time, the disciples don't get it.
Then a blind beggar is shouting out to Jesus while those around him sternly shush him. But he will not be shushed. He shouts even more loudly. The story then reads, Jesus stood still and ordered the man to be brought to him. Jesus didn't keep walking. He did not make them catch up to him. He stopped what he was doing so that he could attend to this man who was shouting out to him. After the beggar received his sight he began glorifying God and followed Jesus.
Next is the story of Zacchaeus, a chief tax collector who was rich and "short in stature." He wanted to see Jesus as he passed by so he climbed a tree. Jesus saw him, called him by name, and invited himself over to spend the night. Zacchaeus was thrilled. The crowd grumbled. After all, Zacchaeus was a chief of the tax collectors. How much more of a sinner could Jesus find? But Jesus sees Zacchaeus' character and not his occupation, and calls him a son of Abraham.
Immediately following this, while Jesus had the attention of his crowd of disciples ... grumbly though they were ... he told them the parable of "a nobleman who went to a distant country to get royal power for himself." The nobleman summons ten of his slaves and gives them each the same amount of money with which to do business until he returns. While he is gone, many of the citizens speak out against his being a ruler over them because they hate him. We are told what happens with three of these slaves. The first profits 10 more pounds, the second profits 5, and the third has only the pound he was given. While the first and the second are rewarded with cities to govern equivalent to the profits they made, the nobleman takes the pound away from the third one and gives it to the first. Finally, the nobleman turned king says those citizens who hate him are his enemies and he calls for their slaughter in his presence.
Now we begin our story of the triumphal entry. Not after the joyous glorifying of God after the beggar's healing. Not after Zacchaeus being declared a son of Abraham. No ... it is after a harsh king reprimands a scared slave and calls for the slaughter of those who oppose him. And all of these stories are in the context of Jesus explaining to his followers that he is about to be tortured and killed and them not getting it.
This story of the triumphal entry, like so many other stories, often gets told in a vacuum as if it's just one cool thing happening after another until finally they are overwhelmed with joy to the point of singing and dancing in the street. Other times the disciples are criticized because they are singing and dancing in the street when they should be scared out of their minds about Jesus' prediction of his death.
Were they rejoicing because they thought those who opposed Jesus were going to be slaughtered in his presence? How could they think that and why would they rejoice over that? It doesn't jive with the rest of Jesus' teachings.
Did they not understand Jesus telling them that he was going to be tortured and killed because they thought it was a parable? Did they not understand because they didn't want to understand?
Does it matter? Were they wrong to express their joy that Jesus was with them that day riding on a donkey showing the world that he was indeed THE King? The Pharisees thought it was wrong. According to Jesus it was not wrong of them. It was the only reasonable thing that they could be doing. If they stopped, the stones would shout out. That seems like it would have been even more disruptive than a parade of shouting people.
Some scholars believe that Jesus was leading his parade of loyal followers at the same time that Pontius Pilate was leading his parade at the other end of the city. Both came for the purpose of peace. Pilate came to keep the peace during the Passover when droves of Jews came to their most holy city to remember the time that their people revolted against their oppressors with Moses and God at the helm. How clever of the Romans to let one Jewish prisoner go during the Passover. Moses demanded Pharaoh, "Let my people go!" But Pharaoh's heart was hardened. Pilate said, "Okay, I'll give you one. You get choose even."
Whatever the factual details of the day were; whatever the motivation for the cheering and singing; Jesus was riding on a donkey on which no one had ever ridden and he had a parade cheering him on. The donkey ... a humble working animal. One that had never been ridden ... a humble working animal saved for a sacred moment. How could the crowds resist cheering? In spite of the dire the parables and criticism by the Pharisees, their messiah; their healer; their hero was riding into Jerusalem for the festival and they were right there for it!
A lot had happened prior to this moment. A lot was going to happen after this moment. But this was the moment in which they were living. They may not have understood half of what Jesus said, but they did see what he did and they knew how he made them feel. And right now he made them feel like celebrating.
There are so many moments. We think we know what might happen tomorrow or next week. And we know what happened yesterday. We know that we don't understand half of what's going on most of the time. Can we set all these knowings aside – not forget about them completely because they do inform how we make plans and help us make the choices that are set before us – but can we set aside the expectation of how we should feel or live based on these knowings and simply look at the moment we are in and respond to that? Sure there are people out there who will criticize. We may be tempted to criticize our own selves. But when we miss those moments we never get them back. If Jesus had died and not gotten the parade because folks were too bound by his coming death, it would have been a grievous loss. When I sit at the bedside of someone who is dying it's a beautiful thing to find a moment of laughter or celebration.
We are all going through very hard things. Our tomorrows may be painful and scary. Our today may be painful and scary. But when there is a moment to celebrate – regardless of who will think what – we should celebrate. I think we should look for those moments of joy. I think we should even create them.
The writer of proverbs said, "Hope deferred makes the heart sick." (Pr 13:12) The writer of proverbs also says, "A glad heart makes a cheerful countenance, but by sorrow of the heart the spirit is broken." (Pr 15:13) And also, "A cheerful heart is a good medicine, but a downcast spirit dries up the bones." (Pr 17:22)
I know it is not easy to have a cheerful heart when hope is deferred! But I also know that I do not want my bones to dry up. I do not want my spirit broken. Neither do I want to see your bones dry or your spirit broken.
Today's celebration just may be what gets you through tomorrow's grief. Good Friday will get here soon enough. For today, Happy Palm Sunday.
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Categories
Texts: Luke 15 and The Invitation by Oriah http://www.oriahmountaindreamer.com/
I have read a couple of articles lately that talk about the Middle Eastern proverb that states, "I saw them eating and I knew who they were." I wonder if someone passing by our potluck would have said to themselves or to the person next to them, "I know who they are," just because we were eating together. I wonder which one or two of us would have stood out to them as the indicator of the group's status. I wonder if how we eat as a group defines us in some certain way so that someone not of our community would say, "I know who they are." Everyone has something they are looking for. Probably each one of us meets some kind of criteria for someone else's judgment. And probably we each have some criteria we look for too.
Jesus is being judged according to his eating with tax collectors and sinners. In response Jesus tells three stories, the last of which is the story of the prodigal. The first story is the story of the lost sheep. The second story is the story of the lost coin. In each of the three stories what was lost ended up being found. The finding of what was lost ends up in rejoicing and calling people up to have a party. "I lost something that was important. Now I've found it. I'm so happy. Come rejoice with me." In the first two stories the party is called and there is no conflict. In the third story, there is conflict. The older son is furious that his younger brother who was irresponsible and selfish comes home and is received with rejoicing. There is no punishment meted out. There is no reconciling rights and wrongs. There is just rejoicing.
The Pharisees and scribes grumbled saying, "This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them." The older brother refuses to go inside to his younger brother's party. He will not eat the fattened calf with them. The father goes in without him. The Pharisees and scribes do not rejoice that those who they label tax collectors and sinners desire to be with a holy man who heals and teaches. Instead of rejoicing over the sheep that Jesus has found, they categorize Jesus as being like unto a tax collector and sinner. Just like the older brother does not rejoice with his father that his once-dead brother has returned, the Pharisees and scribes do not rejoice with Jesus.
We are categorized and we categorize according to type. In this scripture I see a call to stop looking at the superficial categories that we create and to come together. I also see a call to live into the truth of our being children of a magnificent, abundant, powerful, and extravagant divine parent. The older brother is told by his father, "You are always with me and all that is mine is yours." Do we live, though, like the older brother ... our nose to the grindstone and our hearts weary with work and resentment? Do we obey commands and yet not celebrate?
The older brother and the Pharisees worked hard and followed all the rules. But they did not see the abundance that was right in front of them. All they could see were the rules and the work. The younger son saw all the abundance and didn't see the work at all, that is, until the abundance ran out. Neither perspective is full.
Jesus calls us to a new perspective, one that obliterates our superficial categories altogether. This perspective calls us to see each other more deeply and to respond to each other with more innocence. When the shepherd lost and found his sheep, when the woman lost and found her coin, they rejoiced and called their friends to come party with them. When the father lost and found his son, he rejoiced and began organizing a party.
Can we shed our need for the categories that keep us walking with folks that look and talk and eat like us? I'm not suggesting that we put ourselves into situations where we will be abused. But, can we risk getting to know people and really caring about them ... even rejoicing with them ... who are not like us? Can we reach deeper and look for the similarities that are more at our core.
Can we learn to work hard and to party hard? Can we see and feel deep in our soul the abundance that is ours simply because of our relationship with God? Can we also see and feel the power that we have to be a part of the work in bringing the Realm of Heaven here to our earth? Can we do this work by shattering the categories that keep us isolated, but that feel safe?
This poem by Oriah, called The Invitation, inspires me to the deeper calling that I hear Jesus teaching. This teaching that asks us to transcend our boundaries and to rejoice with those who have found what they have lost, whatever that is.
How can we do this? How do we get to know people who are not like us? We have to lift up our eyes ... maybe the eyes of our soul. We have to go outside of our daily patterned life.
What is the real risk of getting to know others who are not like us? Is it that our own soul will be bared? Is it that we will have to redefine what is good and holy and wonderful?
There are stories to be told, stories to be heard, joy and pain to be shared; parties to attend and burdens to bear.
When we find ourselves either being shut out by someone or shutting out someone, we can pause and open our souls to the call of Jesus. If we are being judged, the call is knowing that even if the person in front of us can't rejoice with us, that our Messiah is and that we have a community here that will. If we find ourselves being critical of others that Jesus is spending time with, we need to lay down our categories and step over the boundaries that are superficial.
In truth, I don't think we have to go too far out of our way to simply share the lives of those not like us. We don't have to become best friends with someone to appreciate a moment of life.
What we have to do, is open ourselves up to the moments as the present themselves.
I have read a couple of articles lately that talk about the Middle Eastern proverb that states, "I saw them eating and I knew who they were." I wonder if someone passing by our potluck would have said to themselves or to the person next to them, "I know who they are," just because we were eating together. I wonder which one or two of us would have stood out to them as the indicator of the group's status. I wonder if how we eat as a group defines us in some certain way so that someone not of our community would say, "I know who they are." Everyone has something they are looking for. Probably each one of us meets some kind of criteria for someone else's judgment. And probably we each have some criteria we look for too.
Jesus is being judged according to his eating with tax collectors and sinners. In response Jesus tells three stories, the last of which is the story of the prodigal. The first story is the story of the lost sheep. The second story is the story of the lost coin. In each of the three stories what was lost ended up being found. The finding of what was lost ends up in rejoicing and calling people up to have a party. "I lost something that was important. Now I've found it. I'm so happy. Come rejoice with me." In the first two stories the party is called and there is no conflict. In the third story, there is conflict. The older son is furious that his younger brother who was irresponsible and selfish comes home and is received with rejoicing. There is no punishment meted out. There is no reconciling rights and wrongs. There is just rejoicing.
The Pharisees and scribes grumbled saying, "This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them." The older brother refuses to go inside to his younger brother's party. He will not eat the fattened calf with them. The father goes in without him. The Pharisees and scribes do not rejoice that those who they label tax collectors and sinners desire to be with a holy man who heals and teaches. Instead of rejoicing over the sheep that Jesus has found, they categorize Jesus as being like unto a tax collector and sinner. Just like the older brother does not rejoice with his father that his once-dead brother has returned, the Pharisees and scribes do not rejoice with Jesus.
We are categorized and we categorize according to type. In this scripture I see a call to stop looking at the superficial categories that we create and to come together. I also see a call to live into the truth of our being children of a magnificent, abundant, powerful, and extravagant divine parent. The older brother is told by his father, "You are always with me and all that is mine is yours." Do we live, though, like the older brother ... our nose to the grindstone and our hearts weary with work and resentment? Do we obey commands and yet not celebrate?
The older brother and the Pharisees worked hard and followed all the rules. But they did not see the abundance that was right in front of them. All they could see were the rules and the work. The younger son saw all the abundance and didn't see the work at all, that is, until the abundance ran out. Neither perspective is full.
Jesus calls us to a new perspective, one that obliterates our superficial categories altogether. This perspective calls us to see each other more deeply and to respond to each other with more innocence. When the shepherd lost and found his sheep, when the woman lost and found her coin, they rejoiced and called their friends to come party with them. When the father lost and found his son, he rejoiced and began organizing a party.
Can we shed our need for the categories that keep us walking with folks that look and talk and eat like us? I'm not suggesting that we put ourselves into situations where we will be abused. But, can we risk getting to know people and really caring about them ... even rejoicing with them ... who are not like us? Can we reach deeper and look for the similarities that are more at our core.
Can we learn to work hard and to party hard? Can we see and feel deep in our soul the abundance that is ours simply because of our relationship with God? Can we also see and feel the power that we have to be a part of the work in bringing the Realm of Heaven here to our earth? Can we do this work by shattering the categories that keep us isolated, but that feel safe?
This poem by Oriah, called The Invitation, inspires me to the deeper calling that I hear Jesus teaching. This teaching that asks us to transcend our boundaries and to rejoice with those who have found what they have lost, whatever that is.
How can we do this? How do we get to know people who are not like us? We have to lift up our eyes ... maybe the eyes of our soul. We have to go outside of our daily patterned life.
What is the real risk of getting to know others who are not like us? Is it that our own soul will be bared? Is it that we will have to redefine what is good and holy and wonderful?
There are stories to be told, stories to be heard, joy and pain to be shared; parties to attend and burdens to bear.
When we find ourselves either being shut out by someone or shutting out someone, we can pause and open our souls to the call of Jesus. If we are being judged, the call is knowing that even if the person in front of us can't rejoice with us, that our Messiah is and that we have a community here that will. If we find ourselves being critical of others that Jesus is spending time with, we need to lay down our categories and step over the boundaries that are superficial.
In truth, I don't think we have to go too far out of our way to simply share the lives of those not like us. We don't have to become best friends with someone to appreciate a moment of life.
What we have to do, is open ourselves up to the moments as the present themselves.
Sunday, March 07, 2010
Sharing Flesh and Blood
Texts: Hebrews 2:5 - 18 and Ain't I a Woman? By Sojourner Truth (http://www.fordham.edu/halsall/mod/sojtruth-woman.html)
In the Hebrew text we are told that Jesus understands us and can be compassionate to us because he shared in our flesh and blood ... and because he shared in our suffering. His ability to be merciful and faithful as our High Priest is due to his "becoming like us in every respect."
There is something about us humans. We need to be able to relate. We need to be able to see and feel some kind of kinship.
It's no wonder to me that as Christianity spread that the pictures of Jesus changed. Jesus was likely a dark skinned man. Maybe he had nappy hair that was black. His eyes were possibly a deep rich brown like the fertile earth. As his message went from nation to nation his image changed. We are used to looking at people who look like us. It's a superficial thing.
The image of Jesus changed to look like the people who had adopted his teachings. There's really nothing wrong with that ... until one nation becomes dominant and insists that the other nations are wrong and that their depiction of the Messiah is evil. And there's nothing wrong with it unless it is a conquered nation who is being stripped of their beliefs by force and given a whole new set of beliefs from a Messiah with whom they can't relate.
The Hebrew text doesn't give us this superficial relationship with Jesus. We are offered something much more substantial. We are told that Jesus shared in being made of flesh and blood like we are made and that Jesus shared in experiencing suffering just like us. This is the Messiah that we follow ... that we trust with our own flesh and blood ... that we trust with our own suffering. This is the Messiah with whom we share the bread and wine of communion because he shared flesh and blood with us.
Whenever I think about suffering I think of Buddhism. The First Noble Truth is often translated as Life is Suffering. The word suffering is an incomplete translation though. The word that is translated as suffering is Dukkha. Dukkha, like many ancient words, has no equal in many languages, English included. Instead of translating the word, some say that it is more important to look at the three types of Dukkha: Suffering or pain; Impermanence or change; and Conditioned states.
I thought I would take this approach with the Greek word translated as suffering. There are two words that I found being used in our text.
One of the words has three spellings. They are, Pascho (pas-kho), patho, and pentho. These words mean, to experience a sensation or impression (usually painful): - feel, passion, suffer, vex.
The second word is pathema (path'-ay-mah. This means something undergone, an emotion or influence; such as affection, affliction, motion, suffering.
These words have a relationship with the word pathos or passion. I think it's good to look at the fullness of these ideas. We are not just talking about a Messiah who felt the whip of the Romans and the betrayal of the Pharisees. Our Messiah knows all our passions. Our Messiah was made of flesh and blood, just like we are. When his skin was scratched it hurt. When his skin was caressed it felt good. Jesus experienced the whole of the human condition.
If all we focus on is Jesus knowing our pain, then we have a Saviour who only understands part of our life. That's not the kind of Saviour I want!
I want a Saviour who understands me. I want a Messiah who I can laugh and cry with. I don't want to laugh by myself. I don't want to enjoy the spring daffodils all alone. The joy of the resurrection was that Jesus returned ... body and all! For this season of Lent we reflect on the wilderness and the betrayal, but the reason we can get through this is because of our confidence in the resurrection! And because we have a Messiah who can relate to us in our flesh and blood we can relate to our Messiah. We can look at the terrible tragedy of his suffering while we are suffering but hopefully we won't stop there. Hopefully we will say, "yes, but ... there is the resurrection." I can endure this suffering. I can live in this suffering. I can conquer this suffering. Hope is powerful
We fill this need of ours through many re-creations of the relatable Messiah. I'm not being flippant. I think re-creations help us get through our every day stuff. Sometimes maybe Jesus seems a little too far off or too powerful. Not quite as relatable as we would like. He is too God-ish. So we create superheroes. Wonder Woman. Superman. Spiderman.
We create fictional characters who walk around just like us. They have boring jobs and relationship troubles. They go to parties. They try to figure out how to fit in. But when the signal is spotted or when a cry for help is heard, they transform into a super-person. They transform into a saviour. Sometimes they suffer at the hands of evil but they always bounce back. These stories give us hope.
As much as these stories seem like mimics of our understanding of Jesus for us, I think they are also show, in some way, how we wish to be. Maybe it's just me, but when I hear the story of Spiderman or the Incredible Hulk, I imagine myself hearing the cry of distress and being transformed into a powerful and almost invincible person who saves the day.
Messiah complex? Maybe.
But that is the desire that is birthed in me when I hear the story of Jesus. I believe that we have been given the gift of a relatable Messiah not just to help us get through life but also to help us become who we need to be in this life. Jesus stands as an example to us of how to live. He is a merciful and faithful high priest to us but he is also our teacher and mentor. We are to follow him to the cross with the promise of experiencing the resurrection.
As Christians, I believe that the superheroes in comic strips and on movie screens are examples of what we need and who we want to be.
We are not called to be above anyone. We are not called to be without defect or awkwardness. We are called to be relatable and yet to hear the cry of distress and answer it in the power with which we have been gifted. And I believe we have all been given some power to answer the cries of distress.
Sojourner Truth asks, "Ain't I a woman?" She extends her arms to show her physical strength and yet asks again, "Ain't I a woman?" I hear echoes of Hebrews 2 in this. Am I not made of flesh and blood? Am I not one of you? Can you not relate to me? I can relate to you. I can see your skin and I know that blood is pumping through your veins. Don't be afraid of my power. Appreciate it for what it is and appreciate me for who I am.
There is comfort and challenge in Jesus being made in our image. We not only have a relatable high priest, saviour messiah ... but we also have a teacher and mentor who calls us to be the same for others.
"14 Since, therefore, the children share flesh and blood, he himself likewise shared the same things, so that through death he might destroy the one who has the power of death, that is, the devil, 15 and free those who all their lives were held in slavery by the fear of death."
We share this flesh and blood with so many. We come across people who are held captive by the fear of death. Sometimes it's physical death but more often I think there are other deaths or ends that people fear. Everyone needs someone to relate to. Can we follow in the footsteps of our Jesus who, because he was flesh and blood he could be merciful and faithful? And because he was Divine he could triumph over the fear of death.
Can Jesus' ability to relate to us transform us to be able to relate to others? Can we be like Sojourner Truth – proclaiming ourselves to be humans and relatable while challenging the power that holds the fear of death?
Can we take the ways we have been tested through suffering and become merciful and faithful priests of our Divine Beloved?
As lent continues and you meditate on the coming betrayal and then the resurrection of our Jesus, consider how he can relate to you and then how you can relate to others. Consider your super-powers ... your divine powers ... the gifts that you have that you know about and those that are not yet to the surface. Remember that your mild-mannered life is what makes you relatable to so many. Don't scorn your boring days or your awkward moments. Know that your pain and your joy allows you to share in the humanity of others.
And with all this, remember that, as verse 18 says, "Because Jesus himself was tested by what he suffered, he is able to help those who are being tested."
Because you yourself have been tested by what you suffer, you are able to help those who are being tested. And as you are doing so, Jesus, is helping you.Sharing Flesh and Blood
Texts: Hebrews 2:5 - 18 and Ain't I a Woman? By Sojourner Truth (http://www.fordham.edu/halsall/mod/sojtruth-woman.html)
In the Hebrew text we are told that Jesus understands us and can be compassionate to us because he shared in our flesh and blood ... and because he shared in our suffering. His ability to be merciful and faithful as our High Priest is due to his "becoming like us in every respect."
There is something about us humans. We need to be able to relate. We need to be able to see and feel some kind of kinship.
It's no wonder to me that as Christianity spread that the pictures of Jesus changed. Jesus was likely a dark skinned man. Maybe he had nappy hair that was black. His eyes were possibly a deep rich brown like the fertile earth. As his message went from nation to nation his image changed. We are used to looking at people who look like us. It's a superficial thing.
The image of Jesus changed to look like the people who had adopted his teachings. There's really nothing wrong with that ... until one nation becomes dominant and insists that the other nations are wrong and that their depiction of the Messiah is evil. And there's nothing wrong with it unless it is a conquered nation who is being stripped of their beliefs by force and given a whole new set of beliefs from a Messiah with whom they can't relate.
The Hebrew text doesn't give us this superficial relationship with Jesus. We are offered something much more substantial. We are told that Jesus shared in being made of flesh and blood like we are made and that Jesus shared in experiencing suffering just like us. This is the Messiah that we follow ... that we trust with our own flesh and blood ... that we trust with our own suffering. This is the Messiah with whom we share the bread and wine of communion because he shared flesh and blood with us.
Whenever I think about suffering I think of Buddhism. The First Noble Truth is often translated as Life is Suffering. The word suffering is an incomplete translation though. The word that is translated as suffering is Dukkha. Dukkha, like many ancient words, has no equal in many languages, English included. Instead of translating the word, some say that it is more important to look at the three types of Dukkha: Suffering or pain; Impermanence or change; and Conditioned states.
I thought I would take this approach with the Greek word translated as suffering. There are two words that I found being used in our text.
One of the words has three spellings. They are, Pascho (pas-kho), patho, and pentho. These words mean, to experience a sensation or impression (usually painful): - feel, passion, suffer, vex.
The second word is pathema (path'-ay-mah. This means something undergone, an emotion or influence; such as affection, affliction, motion, suffering.
These words have a relationship with the word pathos or passion. I think it's good to look at the fullness of these ideas. We are not just talking about a Messiah who felt the whip of the Romans and the betrayal of the Pharisees. Our Messiah knows all our passions. Our Messiah was made of flesh and blood, just like we are. When his skin was scratched it hurt. When his skin was caressed it felt good. Jesus experienced the whole of the human condition.
If all we focus on is Jesus knowing our pain, then we have a Saviour who only understands part of our life. That's not the kind of Saviour I want!
I want a Saviour who understands me. I want a Messiah who I can laugh and cry with. I don't want to laugh by myself. I don't want to enjoy the spring daffodils all alone. The joy of the resurrection was that Jesus returned ... body and all! For this season of Lent we reflect on the wilderness and the betrayal, but the reason we can get through this is because of our confidence in the resurrection! And because we have a Messiah who can relate to us in our flesh and blood we can relate to our Messiah. We can look at the terrible tragedy of his suffering while we are suffering but hopefully we won't stop there. Hopefully we will say, "yes, but ... there is the resurrection." I can endure this suffering. I can live in this suffering. I can conquer this suffering. Hope is powerful
We fill this need of ours through many re-creations of the relatable Messiah. I'm not being flippant. I think re-creations help us get through our every day stuff. Sometimes maybe Jesus seems a little too far off or too powerful. Not quite as relatable as we would like. He is too God-ish. So we create superheroes. Wonder Woman. Superman. Spiderman.
We create fictional characters who walk around just like us. They have boring jobs and relationship troubles. They go to parties. They try to figure out how to fit in. But when the signal is spotted or when a cry for help is heard, they transform into a super-person. They transform into a saviour. Sometimes they suffer at the hands of evil but they always bounce back. These stories give us hope.
As much as these stories seem like mimics of our understanding of Jesus for us, I think they are also show, in some way, how we wish to be. Maybe it's just me, but when I hear the story of Spiderman or the Incredible Hulk, I imagine myself hearing the cry of distress and being transformed into a powerful and almost invincible person who saves the day.
Messiah complex? Maybe.
But that is the desire that is birthed in me when I hear the story of Jesus. I believe that we have been given the gift of a relatable Messiah not just to help us get through life but also to help us become who we need to be in this life. Jesus stands as an example to us of how to live. He is a merciful and faithful high priest to us but he is also our teacher and mentor. We are to follow him to the cross with the promise of experiencing the resurrection.
As Christians, I believe that the superheroes in comic strips and on movie screens are examples of what we need and who we want to be.
We are not called to be above anyone. We are not called to be without defect or awkwardness. We are called to be relatable and yet to hear the cry of distress and answer it in the power with which we have been gifted. And I believe we have all been given some power to answer the cries of distress.
Sojourner Truth asks, "Ain't I a woman?" She extends her arms to show her physical strength and yet asks again, "Ain't I a woman?" I hear echoes of Hebrews 2 in this. Am I not made of flesh and blood? Am I not one of you? Can you not relate to me? I can relate to you. I can see your skin and I know that blood is pumping through your veins. Don't be afraid of my power. Appreciate it for what it is and appreciate me for who I am.
There is comfort and challenge in Jesus being made in our image. We not only have a relatable high priest, saviour messiah ... but we also have a teacher and mentor who calls us to be the same for others.
"14 Since, therefore, the children share flesh and blood, he himself likewise shared the same things, so that through death he might destroy the one who has the power of death, that is, the devil, 15 and free those who all their lives were held in slavery by the fear of death."
We share this flesh and blood with so many. We come across people who are held captive by the fear of death. Sometimes it's physical death but more often I think there are other deaths or ends that people fear. Everyone needs someone to relate to. Can we follow in the footsteps of our Jesus who, because he was flesh and blood he could be merciful and faithful? And because he was Divine he could triumph over the fear of death.
Can Jesus' ability to relate to us transform us to be able to relate to others? Can we be like Sojourner Truth – proclaiming ourselves to be humans and relatable while challenging the power that holds the fear of death?
Can we take the ways we have been tested through suffering and become merciful and faithful priests of our Divine Beloved?
As lent continues and you meditate on the coming betrayal and then the resurrection of our Jesus, consider how he can relate to you and then how you can relate to others. Consider your super-powers ... your divine powers ... the gifts that you have that you know about and those that are not yet to the surface. Remember that your mild-mannered life is what makes you relatable to so many. Don't scorn your boring days or your awkward moments. Know that your pain and your joy allows you to share in the humanity of others.
And with all this, remember that, as verse 18 says, "Because Jesus himself was tested by what he suffered, he is able to help those who are being tested."
Because you yourself have been tested by what you suffer, you are able to help those who are being tested. And as you are doing so, Jesus, is helping you.
In the Hebrew text we are told that Jesus understands us and can be compassionate to us because he shared in our flesh and blood ... and because he shared in our suffering. His ability to be merciful and faithful as our High Priest is due to his "becoming like us in every respect."
There is something about us humans. We need to be able to relate. We need to be able to see and feel some kind of kinship.
It's no wonder to me that as Christianity spread that the pictures of Jesus changed. Jesus was likely a dark skinned man. Maybe he had nappy hair that was black. His eyes were possibly a deep rich brown like the fertile earth. As his message went from nation to nation his image changed. We are used to looking at people who look like us. It's a superficial thing.
The image of Jesus changed to look like the people who had adopted his teachings. There's really nothing wrong with that ... until one nation becomes dominant and insists that the other nations are wrong and that their depiction of the Messiah is evil. And there's nothing wrong with it unless it is a conquered nation who is being stripped of their beliefs by force and given a whole new set of beliefs from a Messiah with whom they can't relate.
The Hebrew text doesn't give us this superficial relationship with Jesus. We are offered something much more substantial. We are told that Jesus shared in being made of flesh and blood like we are made and that Jesus shared in experiencing suffering just like us. This is the Messiah that we follow ... that we trust with our own flesh and blood ... that we trust with our own suffering. This is the Messiah with whom we share the bread and wine of communion because he shared flesh and blood with us.
Whenever I think about suffering I think of Buddhism. The First Noble Truth is often translated as Life is Suffering. The word suffering is an incomplete translation though. The word that is translated as suffering is Dukkha. Dukkha, like many ancient words, has no equal in many languages, English included. Instead of translating the word, some say that it is more important to look at the three types of Dukkha: Suffering or pain; Impermanence or change; and Conditioned states.
I thought I would take this approach with the Greek word translated as suffering. There are two words that I found being used in our text.
One of the words has three spellings. They are, Pascho (pas-kho), patho, and pentho. These words mean, to experience a sensation or impression (usually painful): - feel, passion, suffer, vex.
The second word is pathema (path'-ay-mah. This means something undergone, an emotion or influence; such as affection, affliction, motion, suffering.
These words have a relationship with the word pathos or passion. I think it's good to look at the fullness of these ideas. We are not just talking about a Messiah who felt the whip of the Romans and the betrayal of the Pharisees. Our Messiah knows all our passions. Our Messiah was made of flesh and blood, just like we are. When his skin was scratched it hurt. When his skin was caressed it felt good. Jesus experienced the whole of the human condition.
If all we focus on is Jesus knowing our pain, then we have a Saviour who only understands part of our life. That's not the kind of Saviour I want!
I want a Saviour who understands me. I want a Messiah who I can laugh and cry with. I don't want to laugh by myself. I don't want to enjoy the spring daffodils all alone. The joy of the resurrection was that Jesus returned ... body and all! For this season of Lent we reflect on the wilderness and the betrayal, but the reason we can get through this is because of our confidence in the resurrection! And because we have a Messiah who can relate to us in our flesh and blood we can relate to our Messiah. We can look at the terrible tragedy of his suffering while we are suffering but hopefully we won't stop there. Hopefully we will say, "yes, but ... there is the resurrection." I can endure this suffering. I can live in this suffering. I can conquer this suffering. Hope is powerful
We fill this need of ours through many re-creations of the relatable Messiah. I'm not being flippant. I think re-creations help us get through our every day stuff. Sometimes maybe Jesus seems a little too far off or too powerful. Not quite as relatable as we would like. He is too God-ish. So we create superheroes. Wonder Woman. Superman. Spiderman.
We create fictional characters who walk around just like us. They have boring jobs and relationship troubles. They go to parties. They try to figure out how to fit in. But when the signal is spotted or when a cry for help is heard, they transform into a super-person. They transform into a saviour. Sometimes they suffer at the hands of evil but they always bounce back. These stories give us hope.
As much as these stories seem like mimics of our understanding of Jesus for us, I think they are also show, in some way, how we wish to be. Maybe it's just me, but when I hear the story of Spiderman or the Incredible Hulk, I imagine myself hearing the cry of distress and being transformed into a powerful and almost invincible person who saves the day.
Messiah complex? Maybe.
But that is the desire that is birthed in me when I hear the story of Jesus. I believe that we have been given the gift of a relatable Messiah not just to help us get through life but also to help us become who we need to be in this life. Jesus stands as an example to us of how to live. He is a merciful and faithful high priest to us but he is also our teacher and mentor. We are to follow him to the cross with the promise of experiencing the resurrection.
As Christians, I believe that the superheroes in comic strips and on movie screens are examples of what we need and who we want to be.
We are not called to be above anyone. We are not called to be without defect or awkwardness. We are called to be relatable and yet to hear the cry of distress and answer it in the power with which we have been gifted. And I believe we have all been given some power to answer the cries of distress.
Sojourner Truth asks, "Ain't I a woman?" She extends her arms to show her physical strength and yet asks again, "Ain't I a woman?" I hear echoes of Hebrews 2 in this. Am I not made of flesh and blood? Am I not one of you? Can you not relate to me? I can relate to you. I can see your skin and I know that blood is pumping through your veins. Don't be afraid of my power. Appreciate it for what it is and appreciate me for who I am.
There is comfort and challenge in Jesus being made in our image. We not only have a relatable high priest, saviour messiah ... but we also have a teacher and mentor who calls us to be the same for others.
"14 Since, therefore, the children share flesh and blood, he himself likewise shared the same things, so that through death he might destroy the one who has the power of death, that is, the devil, 15 and free those who all their lives were held in slavery by the fear of death."
We share this flesh and blood with so many. We come across people who are held captive by the fear of death. Sometimes it's physical death but more often I think there are other deaths or ends that people fear. Everyone needs someone to relate to. Can we follow in the footsteps of our Jesus who, because he was flesh and blood he could be merciful and faithful? And because he was Divine he could triumph over the fear of death.
Can Jesus' ability to relate to us transform us to be able to relate to others? Can we be like Sojourner Truth – proclaiming ourselves to be humans and relatable while challenging the power that holds the fear of death?
Can we take the ways we have been tested through suffering and become merciful and faithful priests of our Divine Beloved?
As lent continues and you meditate on the coming betrayal and then the resurrection of our Jesus, consider how he can relate to you and then how you can relate to others. Consider your super-powers ... your divine powers ... the gifts that you have that you know about and those that are not yet to the surface. Remember that your mild-mannered life is what makes you relatable to so many. Don't scorn your boring days or your awkward moments. Know that your pain and your joy allows you to share in the humanity of others.
And with all this, remember that, as verse 18 says, "Because Jesus himself was tested by what he suffered, he is able to help those who are being tested."
Because you yourself have been tested by what you suffer, you are able to help those who are being tested. And as you are doing so, Jesus, is helping you.Sharing Flesh and Blood
Texts: Hebrews 2:5 - 18 and Ain't I a Woman? By Sojourner Truth (http://www.fordham.edu/halsall/mod/sojtruth-woman.html)
In the Hebrew text we are told that Jesus understands us and can be compassionate to us because he shared in our flesh and blood ... and because he shared in our suffering. His ability to be merciful and faithful as our High Priest is due to his "becoming like us in every respect."
There is something about us humans. We need to be able to relate. We need to be able to see and feel some kind of kinship.
It's no wonder to me that as Christianity spread that the pictures of Jesus changed. Jesus was likely a dark skinned man. Maybe he had nappy hair that was black. His eyes were possibly a deep rich brown like the fertile earth. As his message went from nation to nation his image changed. We are used to looking at people who look like us. It's a superficial thing.
The image of Jesus changed to look like the people who had adopted his teachings. There's really nothing wrong with that ... until one nation becomes dominant and insists that the other nations are wrong and that their depiction of the Messiah is evil. And there's nothing wrong with it unless it is a conquered nation who is being stripped of their beliefs by force and given a whole new set of beliefs from a Messiah with whom they can't relate.
The Hebrew text doesn't give us this superficial relationship with Jesus. We are offered something much more substantial. We are told that Jesus shared in being made of flesh and blood like we are made and that Jesus shared in experiencing suffering just like us. This is the Messiah that we follow ... that we trust with our own flesh and blood ... that we trust with our own suffering. This is the Messiah with whom we share the bread and wine of communion because he shared flesh and blood with us.
Whenever I think about suffering I think of Buddhism. The First Noble Truth is often translated as Life is Suffering. The word suffering is an incomplete translation though. The word that is translated as suffering is Dukkha. Dukkha, like many ancient words, has no equal in many languages, English included. Instead of translating the word, some say that it is more important to look at the three types of Dukkha: Suffering or pain; Impermanence or change; and Conditioned states.
I thought I would take this approach with the Greek word translated as suffering. There are two words that I found being used in our text.
One of the words has three spellings. They are, Pascho (pas-kho), patho, and pentho. These words mean, to experience a sensation or impression (usually painful): - feel, passion, suffer, vex.
The second word is pathema (path'-ay-mah. This means something undergone, an emotion or influence; such as affection, affliction, motion, suffering.
These words have a relationship with the word pathos or passion. I think it's good to look at the fullness of these ideas. We are not just talking about a Messiah who felt the whip of the Romans and the betrayal of the Pharisees. Our Messiah knows all our passions. Our Messiah was made of flesh and blood, just like we are. When his skin was scratched it hurt. When his skin was caressed it felt good. Jesus experienced the whole of the human condition.
If all we focus on is Jesus knowing our pain, then we have a Saviour who only understands part of our life. That's not the kind of Saviour I want!
I want a Saviour who understands me. I want a Messiah who I can laugh and cry with. I don't want to laugh by myself. I don't want to enjoy the spring daffodils all alone. The joy of the resurrection was that Jesus returned ... body and all! For this season of Lent we reflect on the wilderness and the betrayal, but the reason we can get through this is because of our confidence in the resurrection! And because we have a Messiah who can relate to us in our flesh and blood we can relate to our Messiah. We can look at the terrible tragedy of his suffering while we are suffering but hopefully we won't stop there. Hopefully we will say, "yes, but ... there is the resurrection." I can endure this suffering. I can live in this suffering. I can conquer this suffering. Hope is powerful
We fill this need of ours through many re-creations of the relatable Messiah. I'm not being flippant. I think re-creations help us get through our every day stuff. Sometimes maybe Jesus seems a little too far off or too powerful. Not quite as relatable as we would like. He is too God-ish. So we create superheroes. Wonder Woman. Superman. Spiderman.
We create fictional characters who walk around just like us. They have boring jobs and relationship troubles. They go to parties. They try to figure out how to fit in. But when the signal is spotted or when a cry for help is heard, they transform into a super-person. They transform into a saviour. Sometimes they suffer at the hands of evil but they always bounce back. These stories give us hope.
As much as these stories seem like mimics of our understanding of Jesus for us, I think they are also show, in some way, how we wish to be. Maybe it's just me, but when I hear the story of Spiderman or the Incredible Hulk, I imagine myself hearing the cry of distress and being transformed into a powerful and almost invincible person who saves the day.
Messiah complex? Maybe.
But that is the desire that is birthed in me when I hear the story of Jesus. I believe that we have been given the gift of a relatable Messiah not just to help us get through life but also to help us become who we need to be in this life. Jesus stands as an example to us of how to live. He is a merciful and faithful high priest to us but he is also our teacher and mentor. We are to follow him to the cross with the promise of experiencing the resurrection.
As Christians, I believe that the superheroes in comic strips and on movie screens are examples of what we need and who we want to be.
We are not called to be above anyone. We are not called to be without defect or awkwardness. We are called to be relatable and yet to hear the cry of distress and answer it in the power with which we have been gifted. And I believe we have all been given some power to answer the cries of distress.
Sojourner Truth asks, "Ain't I a woman?" She extends her arms to show her physical strength and yet asks again, "Ain't I a woman?" I hear echoes of Hebrews 2 in this. Am I not made of flesh and blood? Am I not one of you? Can you not relate to me? I can relate to you. I can see your skin and I know that blood is pumping through your veins. Don't be afraid of my power. Appreciate it for what it is and appreciate me for who I am.
There is comfort and challenge in Jesus being made in our image. We not only have a relatable high priest, saviour messiah ... but we also have a teacher and mentor who calls us to be the same for others.
"14 Since, therefore, the children share flesh and blood, he himself likewise shared the same things, so that through death he might destroy the one who has the power of death, that is, the devil, 15 and free those who all their lives were held in slavery by the fear of death."
We share this flesh and blood with so many. We come across people who are held captive by the fear of death. Sometimes it's physical death but more often I think there are other deaths or ends that people fear. Everyone needs someone to relate to. Can we follow in the footsteps of our Jesus who, because he was flesh and blood he could be merciful and faithful? And because he was Divine he could triumph over the fear of death.
Can Jesus' ability to relate to us transform us to be able to relate to others? Can we be like Sojourner Truth – proclaiming ourselves to be humans and relatable while challenging the power that holds the fear of death?
Can we take the ways we have been tested through suffering and become merciful and faithful priests of our Divine Beloved?
As lent continues and you meditate on the coming betrayal and then the resurrection of our Jesus, consider how he can relate to you and then how you can relate to others. Consider your super-powers ... your divine powers ... the gifts that you have that you know about and those that are not yet to the surface. Remember that your mild-mannered life is what makes you relatable to so many. Don't scorn your boring days or your awkward moments. Know that your pain and your joy allows you to share in the humanity of others.
And with all this, remember that, as verse 18 says, "Because Jesus himself was tested by what he suffered, he is able to help those who are being tested."
Because you yourself have been tested by what you suffer, you are able to help those who are being tested. And as you are doing so, Jesus, is helping you.
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