It's Time...the Water Is Ready

What is it about water?

The Book we read is literally swimming in it.

The waters of chaos,

out of which the Lord God creates.

Waters flooding the earth,

to wash it clean from the evil wrought by humankind.

Rebekah watering the camels of a traveling servant,

leading to the foundation of the people of Israel.

River water as the salvation for the baby-in-the-ark,

the one who grew up to become 

the bearer of the rod,

the rod that brought water to its feet 

in the parting of the Sea of Reeds,

and brought water from the rock

for a thirsty, complaining people.

The Promised Land, 

a place fed by streams and 

pools and springs abundant.

The Jordan River -

the headwaters into which the people of Israel

carry the Ark of the Covenant,

and stack the stones of remembrance.

The Jordan -

through which and by which the 

Baptizer offers his call to repentance

and shouts out the promise of One Who Is to Come.

The Jordan -

into which steps Jesus, the Messiah,

submitting himself to the same waters of repentance

as every other respondent to John's call.

The Baptism of Our Lord -

one of the layered meanings and celebrations 

marked with the name Epiphany:

revelation.

The light dawns,

the promise is fulfilled,

God comes to the help of God's people.

Descending under the flow,

rising up through the surface,

glistening in the afternoon sun,

shaking the drops from hair and beard,

gasping for air, arms outstretched,

the Savior, our Immanuel, hears a voice

and the dove descends.

It is time.

No trumpets, no angels, no drum roll.

A simple walk from the shore to the river.

And the mission is launched.

What does Jesus hear as he steps out of the crowd,

out of obscurity,

out of preparation time

into the arena, ready for the main event?

What does he hear?

And what do we need to hear as well?

Three things - three things as vitally important

as the water itself to the life he - and we - are to lead:

He hears who he is.

He hears he is loved.

He hears he is pleasing.

Because of Jesus, we also have:

a new identity;

a powerful and life-changing relationship of love;

a deep-seated knowledge that

God is pleased with us,

before we do one single thing.

Do we get that??

God is pleased with us.

Because of Jesus.

And it is in the water,

the waters of our own baptism,

that we know these things to be true.

Water.

Simple. Ordinary.

Tangible. Irreplaceable.

And absolutely vital.

 The Living Water calls us to reflect who he is,

he calls us to be life, 

to share live, 

to live life

as if Jesus himself is the well.

Oh, how deeply can I draw from this Well as 2012 unfolds?

How widely can I spray this essence of life around me?

What time is it for me?

What time  is it for you?

I am indebted to Pastor Don Johnson and the worship team at Montecito Covenant Church for most of the ideas contained in this reflection and most particularly for the beauty of a worship service in which we are given the precious opportunity to renew our baptismal vows. Swishing our hands in the waters of the font, singing, "All Who Are Thirsty," every New Year, we remember again WHO WE ARE. Thanks be to God.

Joining with lots of friends today as I've been away from this blog for over a week, traveling to get my mom moved and then re-settling at home with a too-full calendar. So tonight, I'm fixin' to join with Michelle, Jen, Emily (if she's open for business again), Ann, Jennifer & Bonnie. Each of these lovely sites has great writing going on - check them out.

Extravagant Giving

The text for this Sunday includes the story of the widow's mite - the gift of everything that our observant Savior watched from his perch near the offering 'trumpets' in the Court of the Women in the Temple in Jerusalem. This happened just days before his own arrest and crucifixion and it follows on the heels of some pretty strong words of warning about religious authorities and their hypocrisy. It's a text that has been widely preached during November (when it falls into the lectionary calendar, as a matter of fact). November - the traditional month for stewardship sermons as year end approaches and new budgets are being formulated. 'Give, give, give til it hurts' - that's often the interpretation used at such times. And I do think it is possible that this text can be used as a template for preaching the power of proportionate giving...except...it's a bit troubling. Does Jesus really beckon the disciples to join him in his people-watching in order to show them the 'right' kind of giving, the kind that every 'good' disciple should strive to emulate? Should we all really give away all that we have to live on? Or is there something else going on in this text, something a bit more subversive, and perhaps a bit more in tune with the immediate and general context of the gospel of Mark.

Jesus enfleshes the focussed concern of God for the people on the margins, most especially the widows and orphans, in a society where neither is well-cared for and where both are usually invisible. Just before this small story, Jesus castigates the scribes - those interpreters of the law who oppose Jesus all through Mark's gospel account - and he particularly rides them for 'devouring the houses of widows.' Probably he was making reference to the subtle and not-so-subtle ways that these 'unpaid' religious professionals often used their positions of influence to extort funds from the most vulnerable, especially widows, who enjoyed no legal protection, and - if they produced no male children - no financial protection either. Though these scribes received no 'official' recompense for their scribal and interpretive work, they did know ways of getting funds. Somehow the picture of tv evangelists comes to mind here...perhaps with the promise of 'increased blessing for increased giving??'

We cannot know, we can only surmise. But it does seem clear - from the harshness of Jesus' tone and the pointedness of his words - that the behavior of those in religious leadership, those finding themselves in positions of power and authority, reflected both an abuse of that power and a misuse of that authority.

Jesus says strongly, "This will not do!" "Beware!" The disciples are instructed, in no uncertain terms, to watch out for these wolves in sheep's clothing, to be especially careful of authorities who like the perks of the job - who wear fine clothes in an ostentatious manner; who want to be seen in the synagogue, choosing to sit up in front, on the bench that faces the congregation; who want the best couch at the banquet; who pray long, elaborate prayers at the same time they are fleecing the widows. Beware. Be careful. Watch out.

And then comes this small story of the widow's gift. And her generous spirit is to be commended. Her admission of her complete dependence upon God and neighbor is to be emulated. Her digging deep to share with others is praiseworthy. But...I wonder. Could Jesus also be verbalizing a lament-of-sorts in this scene? Could he be calling his disciples' attention to the very thing he has just been warning them about? Is he bewailing the religious system that encourages such destitution? I think there may be some of that in this text.

It certainly lines up with Jesus' earlier teaching, in Mark 7, against religious authorities who shelter their money by calling it 'devoted to God' instead of taking care of their elderly parents. It certainly lines up with Jesus' strong prophetic word in the verses which immediately follow this story, at the beginning of chapter 13. There, the disciples are praising the beauty of the temple building and inviting Jesus to do the same. Jesus, however, looks at that magnificent edifice and sees it in ruins, 'no stone upon another,' shocking his followers with his foreboding word. He sees a religious system that is rotten to the core. Where others see authority and power, Jesus sees seeping decay and imminent loss. And he will not be a party to it in any way, shape or form.

So he speaks his harshest words of criticism yet. Mark's version is much briefer that Matthew's entire chapter 23, but it is still powerful to read. He is on his way to the cross and he knows it. Throwing any vestige of caution to the winds, Jesus blasts away at the 'authority' of the religious superstructure, in essence inviting them to come after him. Jesus is preparing to give the most extravagant gift it is possible for any human being to give. And because he is the Son of God in human flesh, the extravagance level takes on untold layers of love. So I think, despite the lament that surely was there in Jesus' words, there is a lovely way in which this small person, living on the margins of her culture, provides us with a window into the gift that is coming. Like the other widow in this week's readings - the one at Zarepath who used her last flour and water to feed a hungry prophet named Elijah - this widow willingly gives all that she has to the service of God.

Jesus had no use for authority that was illegitimate and abusive. And Jesus spoke with true authority - with power and certainty and ability that exceeded anything the scribes could offer. Jesus called false authority what it was. He named the evil and he stepped strongly into the melee that resulted from his truth-telling words. And on the way, he noticed a poor widow, flinging her tiny coins into the offering box at the temple. At one and the same time, her story serves to condemn the insidious abuses of wrongly-used authority and to highlight the beauty of generosity and humility, the offering of oneself and one's meager gifts with relinquishment and dependence.

How hard it is for us to do that! We'd much rather wear the flowing robes and get the best seats at the banquet, thank you. Admitting that we are totally dependent upon Another for our very breath is difficult to do. It is somehow even harder to acknowledge that we are also dependent upon that One for the money in our pocket, the roof over our heads and the abundance which we enjoy. Placing ourselves in a position of dependence - or more accurately, acknowledging the fact that we are already there - is tough for 21st century western Christians to do. I have known very few people in my life for whom that kind of humility, graciousness and generosity is a natural part of daily living. And one of my primary life examples died this past week, a person whose absence from this planet impoverishes me and everyone who ever knew him.

I'll write about Thomps in a later edition...

Working Toward Retreat...

It's been almost a full year since I've done any speaking or teaching for a women's group of any kind. For a while there, I was doing something with and for women on a regular basis - I facilitated a women's Bible study group at church twice a month for about seven years, participated in four different women's retreats for our own women (two as speaker, one as worship leader, one as communion celebrant) and spent a weekend here, a half-day's worth of interaction and input there. I spoke at a ladies' tea, and I offered communion to a Bible study leadership team every fall for several years running. I like working with women - I also love preaching to and teaching groups which include both genders and a variety of age groups. But there is often something rich and remarkable that happens when a group of women gather somewhere away-from-the-usual for the express purpose of drawing closer to God.

Two days from now, I'll get that opportunity again as I lead a group of women from Brentwood Presbyterian church at their annual women's ministries retreat - right here in Santa Barbara at la Casa de Maria. We're looking at the book of Esther - which is the same material I used at the very first retreat I ever led by myself almost 10 years ago. My good friend Karen Jobes has written an incomparable commentary on this marvelous book and I have enjoyed re-reading it the last few weeks. (In case you're wondering...this is the only commentary I have ever read from cover to cover!) Over the course of this weekend, we'll be talking about and reflecting on:

The Hidden Presence of God in Our Story

“...for such a time as this...”

Session One – Friday Evening, January 26, 2007

Making Things CLEAR...

...the need for consent and clarity.

Session Two – Saturday Morning, January 27, 2007

Keeping Things CONGRUENT...

...the importance of consistency and community.

Session Three – Saturday Afternoon, January 27, 2007

Living with COURAGE...

...the need for conviction and commitment.

Session Four – Sunday Morning, January 28, 2007

Responding with CELEBRATION...

...moving through confession to cooperation.

Throughout the course of these sessions, the women will spend some time in individual reflection, some time in small group discussion and some time in large group learning. It is challenging and fun to lay out a series like this, and I am grateful for the opportunity. And I am especially enjoying wrestling through this topic at this particular juncture in my own life and ministry. I gave the leadership team at Brentwood a list of about six topics and this is the one they chose. After listening to a bit of their corporate story of the last several years, I can readily see that it is also a great topic for them to wrestle with for a while.

It's a good and relevant topic precisely because God so often seems hidden to us. There aren't too many miracles to be had, these days. Indeed, I believe that God chooses to work through the ordinary, non-remarkable circumstances of daily life far more often than God chooses to intervene with a miraculous event - and I believe that's true in any day. There are far more stories like Esther's in this life than there are stories like the Exodus. Perhaps a better way to phrase it is that there is more often a "miraculous quality to the ordinary" (a Jobes' phrase) than there is an ordinary quality to the miraculous! The only problem with this truth is, of course, that we so often fail to have 'eyes to see' and 'ears to hear' the wondrous ways in which our God is at work in, around and through the ordinary stuff of life. I am praying that together, the women from Brentwood Pres and I will have our eyes and ears opened in new ways this weekend.