Can’t understand why some are upset over any potential autism registry? Culling data from medical records, pharmacies, genetic tests, even smartwatches reminds many of similar lists Nazis used to kill hundreds if not thousands of autistic and intellectually disabled kids. (It is estimated that close to 250,000 disabled people were murdered under the Nazi regime.) Whether one thinks it fair or not, likely to happen in the US or not, people are concerned, if not afraid.
It’s all being done because Secretary Kennedy is convinced autism is an epidemic. The term “epidemic” is typically used to describe a rapid increase in the incidence of a disease, and most reasearchers and medical professionals understand autism as a neurodevelopmental brain condition. It ignores that better tools and awareness has increased detection.
Many on the spectrum work, marry, and live full lives despite Kennedy’s suggesting otherwise this past week. His comments were not generous nor true. (I wonder what Kennedy’s friend, Elon Musk, thinks. He’s on the spectrum too.) And ultimately as a Christian, does one’s ability to produce make one more valuable in the Kingdom of God? The answer is no. Every life has value to God. They should to us as well.
This is ultimately the government accessing private medical histories for its own use – theoretically for research, but without any historically required consent. It’s instigated by a person with no true medcal knowledge, just theories too often echoing the evils of eugenics. He’s suggesting an answer to the causes of autism will be found by September because he has a preferred cause in sight based on his assumptions and half baked ideas, not scientific research. Nothing says that this proposed list won’t result in black lists of some kind, restrictions on rights or care, insurance loss, or who knows what.
We are a fallen humanity and capable of great evil, even when we think we are doing good. Now all of a sudden, it seems we are to trust the government (or anyone) implicitly? That’s ignoring biblical and real world realities. In fact, the US government doesn’t have such a great track record. (Nor does humanity in general.) Consider as just one example the moral depravity of the Tuskegee Experiment. And so, we must not be too quick to look away from your neighbors’ loss of privacy if not eventually many other rights. It can become a downward spiral. It could be any of us next.
Love of neighbor, in this case protecting and caring for those with special needs, is a call of all Christians and a civilized society. Meanwhile as debate rages over any registry, services to our autistic neighbors or loved ones (and others) are being cut. These cuts can lead to reduced access to therapy, longer wait times, increased financial burdens, and limitations in school-based services, potentially affecting low-income and rural families the most.
I understand cuts or changes in policies, but the ways this is being done is not loving our neighbors well. It has been utilitarian. This leads me to share why I am posting about this when just a pastor, not a medical professional. It’s because I love people on the spectrum and with intellectual disabilities – in and outside of my family over many years. I invite you to get to know such people better and love them too; supporting their families as you can and they allow. It can be hard in some cases, but no human is ever a curse. You will likely learn more about love, joy and Jesus on your way.
An icon of Mary Magdalene, Apostle to the Apostles. She holds an egg, a symbol of resurrection, and myrrh, as she has been associated with the sinful woman who anoints Jesus’ feet. (This identification is contested.) She also intended to care for his body after burial, likely with ointments containing myrrh.
As Easter approached, a very problematic, allegedly Evangelical pastor was waxing eloquent on social media. Joel Webbon wrote, “The young men are waking up. Women will learn to have a quiet and gentle spirit. Deus vult [God wills it]” (Joel Webbon on X, April 7, 2025). He was likely referencing 1 Timothy 2:11-15 – out of its original context, of course – where women (likely in the Greek most particularly wives) were supposed to publicly follow the lead of the husband during instruction and worship within a Greco-Roman patriarchy of the day. The post is being accepted as sound advise by some, including some I know. That concerns me greatly, and I’d like to publicly challenge that.
Yes, the Bible speaks of submission, but what is that and how does it apply? Paul and his contemporaries were trying to fit in, being all things to all people (1 Corinthians 9:19-23), including those influenced or under the dominion of Roman culture and laws. In that culture, respectable faiths should not be too loud and crazy at worship. So, Paul asked that all things be done in an orderly way (1 Corinthians 14:40). Women should have head coverings and men should have short, uncovered hair while at worship like other contemporaries. It was improper and shameful in that world to do otherwise…but he never explicitly calls it a sin. Thus, later Christians have allowed all kinds of practices regarding length of hair and head coverings. Cultural expectations plays a part in what Paul writes, as he never wants such things to discredit Christianity or become a stumbling block to faith. They play a part in our lives now. Would a church allow men in shorts at worship in the 1950s? A women’s bare shoulder? What is “right” is often impacted by what culture sees as acceptable.
Paul also continually connected the Christian faith to the ancient Jewish faith. Why? The Romans expected a “real” religion to be orderly, reflecting Roman social structures as above, but also connected to an ancient faith. “Real religions” were ancient ones to the Romans. New faiths were looked upon with suspicion if not derision as cults. So, the Romans respected and allowed Judaism, and Paul regularly tried to ensure the Roman world knew that Christianity was not new. It was a the fulfillment of ancient promises. Jesus was the New Adam (see Romans 5). And Christians, whether originally Gentile or Jew, were all the Children of Abraham (see Romans 9).
Yes, the early Church lived in a Greco-Roman world under suspicion and threat from many sides. The execution of Jesus was just the start. That context matters. Ironically, Webbon made his comment about women just before Easter, when the entire Church worships Jesus, Son of the Living God, risen from the dead. Among the Gospel stories read at worship, one most often hears of a woman who would not be quiet, Mary Magdalene. (She is also known as Mary of Magdala, a small town on the Sea of Galilee where she was likely from.) Out of the norm of her day, she followed Jesus. She seems to not have been under the authority of any household male. Yet, she helped sustain his mission with money, and she seems to have been looked upon with respect within the Christian community.
The day after the sabbath had ended, three days after Christ’s resurrection, women went to the tomb carrying myrrh and other spices to anoint and clean the body of Jesus. They hoped to finish the burial possess cut short by the start of Passover. These women are called with respect, the Myrrhbearers. (The list includes Nicodemus and nine named women including Mary Magdalene. (Some suspect there were more than those named.) As a result, Mary Magdalene is often pictured with an urn of myrrh ointment, a spice used for healing, blessing, and burials, and an egg, meant to remind Christians of the Resurrected Christ coming out of the tomb.) In Matthew 28, as they came to the tomb, Mary and another Mary, the mother of James the Less and Joses, are told of the resurrection by an angel. Jesus soon appears to them both, instructing them to share the Good News with his other disciples. In the oldest Gospel account, Mark 16, Mary Magdalene and Mary the mother of James and Salome go to the tomb. An angel appears, and they are told to tell others, but fear keeps them quiet…at least for a time. For Luke 24 reports, “Now it was Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary the mother of James, and the other women with them who told this [of Jesus’ resurrection] to the apostles. But these words seemed to them an idle tale, and they [the Apostles] did not believe them.” Despite disbelief, and likely being told to be quiet, they spoke until Peter ran to confirm it. And in John 20, Jesus appears to Mary first of all, asking her to tell the others. In all the Gospels, Mary Magdalene plays a significant role particularly after the resurrection.
As a witness to the Resurrected Christ, she brings the Good News to others. She eventually becomes called the Apostle to the Apostles, most likely first called this by Thomas Aquinas, a Doctor of the Church. Yet who was she to deserve this? All the Bible says is that she was a woman of means who supported and traveled with Jesus. She had seven demons exercised out of her according to Luke, but it is only later in the Middle Ages that people start to assume she is a prostitute or adulteress. (One of the common excuses for besmirching her reputation is that she had money to share, when Greco-Roman women could actually have money under certain circumstances. They could even run businesses and farms.) Ultimately, it was grace. She was chosen by Jesus to be the first to see him. He thought her important apparently. She’s called an Apostle as a first hand witness to Christ’s Resurrection and commissioned by him to tell others.
Contrary to this story, Webbon doesn’t apparently trust or keep women in such high esteem. Along with following the husband’s lead and staying in the home, women should not vote. He claims the 19th Amendment has stolen half of his vote from him. He only “allows” his wife to vote as a form of restitution. She votes his way. (Listen here.) Sure, 1 Timothy 2 was particularly in the context of worship, but I see that scripture is usually fitted into his preconceived political and social notions. He appears to want women not just submissive but subjugated. (This effort to make scripture fit one’s argument is called prooftexting.) He’s not a fan of using scholarship of any kind to help us understand what the original voices were really saying in their time and place and why.
And so, he has also suggested women who falsely accuse men of sexual assault could be publicly executed to stop the #metoo movement. That might have been good for some leaders of ancient Israel – if a lie. Death could indeed be the sentence if someone lied under oath. Yet Webbon’s way is not the way of Jesus. He seems to call for death in light of his politics, bias, and desire for control. I have not yet seen him call for justice for men who do sexually assault women as in Deuteronomy. Nor can I find where he ever considers the many accusations and findings against the current President’s sexual improprieties, if not crimes, seriously. Webbon appears to start with doubting any woman’s claims. In fact, if one wants to be “biblical,” the ancient Israelites were meant to consider a women’s accusation, but the repercussions were like many other tribal people’s of the time. If a man committed sexual violence against an unmarried woman, he might have to marry her. If she was engaged or married, this might lead to his death. Still in that patriarchal society, the woman’s well being was not always of prime concern. Keeping some kind of peace within the family, tribe, and people would be.
In contrast to Jewish scriptural laws and Webbon’s corruption of them, Jesus lifts up repentance and forgiveness as his way. Justice is offered to all people, and justice includes mercy. In John 8:1-11, Jesus famously stops a woman caught in adultery from being stoned according to Deuteronomy 22:21. Paul writes in Galatians 3:23-28, the Children of God are no longer male or female, even though he recognizes social structures and their realities. So, you can find Christian societies allowing women to exercise varied levels of female emancipation throughout time. For example, women likely had more freedom and power under the Roman Empire than in Europe under the Middle Ages. And over time, women in modernizing, democratic countries have allowed women self agency and the ability to protect themselves or seek justice.
In the original statement sparking this post, Webbon was responding to Fox News’ Megyn Kelly’s concern that educated, working, conservative women were running into trouble. On the right, more young men do not want to marry a woman who works. This might be true. There are some polls and studies that suggest young men are looking toward the ancient Orthodox faith more with its claimed clear certainty, religious rigor, and high church spiritual practices including long-term, prayerful fasting. While other Christian churches are shrinking (both liberal and conservative congregations and denominations), Orthodoxy has grown in the United States by as much as 78% – or so it is claimed. Articles and Orthodox friends I know gleefully suggest it is due to the feminization of the Church. (Indeed, women make up the majority of most religious bodies in the United States.) Yet, multiple studies indicate a number of factors leading to attendance changes including the growth of what is called the “nones.“
One conservative, Reformed person that I know from my past simply suggested that Webbon was right. “The Bible opposes feminism and egalitarianism. And has high callings for husbands and wives,” the person said. (I doubt he knew Webbon’s reputation, he just heard a statement he agreed with.) Unfortunately, too often, that high calling becomes staying at home and losing oneself. It can lead to abusive relationship. Webbon’s (and my Reformed friend’s) is not a clear reading of scripture but a simplistic one. Yes, being a spouse and mother can be a wonderful calling. Yet, God can call women to other pursuits alongside or in place of marriage. Even the earliest Reformers understood that. Each person has their unique call from God. Indeed, people might have multiple calls in their lifetime – one after another, or more than one at once. We need to allow people to answer their call. If called to marriage, men, too, are to be helpmates, not task overseers. God created Eve as Adam’s helper before the Fall. There is no biblical implication that she was to be subject to his whims. “So God created humans in his image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them” (Genesis 1:26-28).
Further, there is evidence in and out of scripture that women took some leadership rolls in the early Church. Lydia’s home church, started by Paul with her willingness and generosity as a business owner, was critical to Paul’s success in Philippi (Acts 16:11-15). We hear accounts of widows ministering to others, but we also learn on the office of deaconess. Deaconesses likely existed as an office into the 4th Century, then the office began to decline as culture changed and faced worldly pressures. (The Roman Empire split in 395 AD into East and West. It ended in 476 AD.) Some archeological evidence might exist that they served as pastors/priests at communion, such as a famous fresco (see below) in the Santa Priscilla Catacombs, although it is hotly debated. There is no indication it was common practice as of yet, even if exceptions might have existed for female pastors/priests. (The figure referenced could have been a deaconess as some suggest, but hand gestures shown make them think of the Eucharistic prayers.) Then in the closing of Paul’s Letter to the Romans, he gives thanks for many people to include women for their faithful leadership within the Church and for helping him. One who is named Junia (in most translations) might have really been named Julia according to five thus far discovered early versions of the letter. It remains an unsettled mystery. Still, there were much later women under oppression from communists behind the Iron Curtain who took on the role of Roman Catholic priests. Ludmila Javorova was one such known person, along with others. (The religious validity of this ordination was suspect according to the Vatican who never recognized it. Yet, she and others seem to have served as priests in the underground church to help the Church survive oppression.) Perhaps a similar thing happened in the early times of the earliest Church?
I would have loved to ask Martin Luther his thoughts. In a desert island scenario, he suggested the stranded group might consider anyone from the group to serve as pastor in order to preside at communion, as Lutherans believe in the priesthood of all believers. Would he have included women as candidates? Even within his own cultural context, I suspect that he likely would have said ok if no men were present. His wife, Katie, might have been much more in favor of this. After all, there is much evidence that she was a major part of Martin Luther’s ministry behind the scenes. She was a theologically educated nun in her own right, one who had found freedom through the Reformation and escaped her convent. Based on letters and outside sources, she seems to have deeply influenced his life and theology.
By the 9th Century, only nuns could be deaconesses in the West. By the Middle Ages, the role had pretty much disappeared for woman. Lutherans of the 19th Century led the way to restore this office for women. “In 1836, in Germany Pastor Theodor Fliedner and his wife Friedericke Műnster, using the story of New Testament Phoebe (Romans 16:1), the example of Mennonite deaconesses in Holland, the work of the Daughters of Charity of Saint Vincent de Paul and the work of Wichern and his brotherhoods of deacons, called women to serve as deaconesses in a small pastoral charge in Kaiserswerth.” (Read more at the ELCA Deaconess website.) The first female pastor recognized in modern times seems to be Antoinette Brown Blackwell. She was given a license to preach by the Congregational Church in 1851 and then offered a position as Minister of a Congregationalist church in South Butler, New York in 1852. She ultimately became Unitarian though.
Yet, this blog post isn’t about women’s ordination. It is not ultimately just about the treatment of women in society or families. This problematic pastor’s writings, sermons, and public statements ripple into other spheres. He has influenced (along with others) national discourse and attitudes in an unhealthy way. This is also about who is a Christian or not. It is about Christian nationalism, too. It’s about dangerous teaching, a threat to life and liberty to include the expression of one’s faith. I’m sharing this post because members of my congregation had concerns and questions about his post, so maybe others do too. They are right to be concerned!
Unfortunately, some others on social media thought his quote seemed like a welcome vision of the family without looking at the darkness behind the words. The first thing to remember is that a Christian is not a Christian is not a Christian. Even Jesus says some who cry out, “Lord! Lord!” won’t be recognized by him (Matthew 7:21-23). Being a Christian isn’t just being one in name. It is a life that is meant to reflect Christ’s own. Yet in practice, Christianity is a huge umbrella of beliefs. Some are closer to Jesus’ teaching while others miss the mark, still others manipulate, offend, or violate laws under the name Christian for prophet, sexual gain, or other worldly power. Yet no group of individual reflects Christ perfectly (including my own understanding and practices) because we are human.
In fact, not all Christians or denominations are humble enough to recognize they could be wrong on some things if not many things. Christians can echo worldly politics more than the Holy Sprit. This happens among both those labeled liberal or conservative politically. Meanwhile we as Christians are supposed reflect and hope in Christ first – to embody him in the world. We are in the world, but not supposed to be of it (see John 17). Or as Paul writes in Romans 12:2, “Do not be conformed to this age, but be transformed by the renewing of the mind, so that you may discern what is the will of God—what is good and acceptable and perfect.” Then theologically, some might be incredibly rigid and unhealthy, while others become so open, it’s hard to see Christ amidst the syncretism. So when we see such posts, I suggest we consider the source – the spiritual leader’s judicatory if any, as well as the person speaking. It might sound like a reasoned statement but prove anything but. It can be helpful to dig deeper to better understand the argument being made.
Take for example this particular pastor who is listed publicly as simply “Evangelical.” Again, no one size fits under this label. In his case, his congregation is part of The Evangelical Covenant Church (ECC). It was founded by immigrants who broke away from Swedish Lutheranism in favor of a radical pietism, emphasizing certain teachings regarding holy living over grace. As it’s base, pietism has some merit. Faith should have a heart centered component. Yet with radical pietism, if faith is not in your heart (at an emotional and personal level), and you don’t overtly, rigidly witness to your faith in your actions, you might be told that you are not a “real Christian.” Those who believe but struggle with sin are out. You might say you are a Christian and go to church and serve others, but that might not be good enough for radical pietists despite whatever might be said about heart and grace. His denomination focuses a great deal on perfectionism and legalism in practice. They tend to be politically very conservative and quickly judge others. Radical Pietists in general tend to distinguish between “true” and “false” Christianity based on their assessment of works and a rigid theology and biblical fundamentalism.
This pastor who wants women to “submit” is in a very small denomination, yet it teams up politically with likeminded people. In our modern age, he can have a big influence. In this season of Easter, it’s good to remember that Mary Magdalene and other women refused to be quiet. Again, she’s the “Apostle to the Apostles,” first sharing news of Jesus. She traveled with him before his death and watched as he died. She was going to care for his body when men were still hiding out of fear. There have always been women leaders. Moses’ sister, Miriam, was a prophet for example. Deborah was a Judge of Israel, a tribal leader, and prophesied as well. Many women helped the Apostles and first disciples succeed and even start churches. Paul was helped in his ministry by a married couple. “Greet Prisca and Aquila, my coworkers in Christ,” he writes in Romans 16:3. On the other hand, Webbon seems to deny women a place not just in the pulpit or voting booth, but perhaps even at the feet or Jesus or at his table. He seems to not truly like and respect women. He has said he would prefer his wife never votes.
Perhaps most dangerously, Webbon is also a Christian Nationalist who aggressively supports the current administration. His Christian beliefs are bound as one to national ones. His wants to control more than women. He has wrongly and explicitly claimed that the United States belongs exclusively to Christians, and that means non-Christians shouldn’t hold public office. He’s overtly anti-semetic. He has wrongly said that God is done with Jews. He has suggested illegal immigrants be shot crossing the border. This rigid thinking all loops us back to his extreme pietistic roots. Who’s going to be considered a real Christian and who a false Christian? It’s not going to be Roman Catholics, the Orthodox, Methodists, Lutherans, Presbyterians, and members from other established denominations out of sink with his rigid worldview who have power, a vote, or even a say. It will be a small group of unhealthy Christians lording their ways over others – including Christians and non-Christians alike. It’s dangerous and unlike Christ. It most certainly does not reflect the Constitution.
Certainly, his desire to subjugate goes well beyond women. His teachings are far from Jesus who says, “Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.” When you have executive orders that might inadvertently (or perhaps intentionally) disenfranchise women by creating more hoops to jump through, it is people like Webbon who is applauding if not urging this on. We discover it becomes a bigger issue that potentially impact all of us in many varied ways, crossing from family, into religious freedom, and Constitutional values. Formally of the New Apostolic Reformation, now denouncing them, Webbon still shares their goal – a Christian nation in the worst and most un-Christian sense.
The ripples of injustice can have a long reach. So, I encourage everyone to stay informed, and please don’t take memes or social media quotes at face value. Sharing them might connect you to some very bad theology, politics, and people. When considering hot button social and political issues of the day, especially when someone uses scripture (including when you read anything from me), test what you read. Look deeper. Listen to other voices of the past and the present. We don’t want freedom to be drowned by ignorance, nor our true faith and baptism, amidst its many differences being worked out peacefully, to be denied by a wolf in sheep’s clothing (Matthew 7:15). Just because someone claims the title of pastor, it does not mean they should be one.
Jesus wants streams of justice and a baptismal people who live and love others like he does. He calls all people to follow him together as one. For he alone is the Living Water, the Good Shepherd of his sheep. Don’t settle for the political poison, the gall of the world. Gall, which contained myrrh in it, was not for healing, honor, or blessing. Gall was offered to Jesus to numb his pain. Worldly control and domination might seem to numb our fear and pain for awhile, make one think they are in control, but it leads to death. Jesus refused it. Out of love, he was willing to fully willing to experience the pain of death.
We, too, are asked to risk feeling the pain that can come when following Jesus in love. He invites us to accept our crosses and bear them with his help. It is hard to live in relationship with others. Yet, we are told to die to oneself for the good of others. Yes, even marriage is a form of martyrdom to the Orthodox. We are meant to give of ourselves fully and freely in love of our spouse, answering Jesus’ call.
The Christian life exemplified by Jesus is hard, but it leads to life for you and others. It is meant to be walked in communion together, no longer slaves but children of God, siblings, family. Thank heavens Mary Magdalen and other women of the early Church did not shut up because culture told them too. In a time such as this, they have more to teach us.
Image source: the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America (ELCA)
Hearing the story of Jesus’ Passion hits differently when you hear it all at one time, doesn’t it? The pace of the story and the details woven into it wash over us in a more discernable way. You might sense a theme in the author’s focus…get a better feeling of what Jesus went through in his human form. Our beloved Jesus faced extreme exhaustion and grief as these stressful events went on overnight and into the next day; a body slowly giving in to torture, bleeding, and pain; a heart hurting as people he loved abandoned him and still others mocked him ceaselessly. Then, ultimately a final gasp, most likely amidst the sounds of what is commonly called a death rattle…“It is finished.”
We have moved away from the Narrative Lectionary during this Tenebrae service, a service of growing shadow echoing the growing darkness of that day long ago. Instead of Luke, we chose to solemnly reflect upon John’s witness. And among the most ancient practices of the service, sights and sounds might be added to reflect the words of the story. Thanks to Mike Moffit, we heard the occasional clang of a bell, tolling us toward Jesus’ death on the cross. In the earliest traditions, a loud bang was often created to simulate the closing of the tomb. Or, shrill lamenting might be heard as the chanting of Psalms continued. The final lit candle might be taken out of the sanctuary as if it was Jesus’ body being transported to the grave…only to have it come back again after a time of meditation. For just as John began his Gospel witness, “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it” (John 1:5).
In some traditions for Good Friday, you might hear from more than one Gospel witness, and perhaps like in a courtroom, this can help us move closer to the horrible, full truth of the events. Imagine if we had heard Matthew, Mark, or Luke, along with John this evening. We would have heard differences, nuances, and varied details, because that’s what happens when people speak truly. They don’t get their story straight. They report on what they know as best they can. As humans, we focus on and remember various things. We tell our stories differently. I argue that this attests to the truth of scripture. These words are considered so sacred that despite knowing these differences, the Church has decided to rest in their mystery. And so, amidst some glaring discrepancies and questions…not only on the our Bible’s pages but in our lives…we wait for God’s Spirit to speak to us…to help us understand…perhaps more importantly to trust.
At my former congregation, we used to have a three-hour service from noon to three where we listened to Matthew, Mark and Luke, one per hour, interspersed with silence, song, and reflections. People came and went, or they stayed for three hours, likely as people did during the crucifixion of Jesus itself. Jerusalem was a busy city after all, and it was packed with holiday excitement and people going to and fro. Then, we shared in a John-centered service that night. Still other congregations have shared in a three-hour service with multiple pastors preaching on the seven last sayings of Jesus as recorded in the Gospels. There are many more Good Friday traditions than there are Christian congregations – no one tradition perfect. For, we never can fully express or understand Jesus’ suffering. Words can never capture it. Only Jesus knows the full truth.
Certainly, there are countless creative ways to help us try to encounter the suffering and death of Jesus. I’ve used art to reflect upon the Stations of the Cross. It is not unusual, and has always been a tradition of the Church, to have Jesus reflect varied ethnicities and races. For Jesus came to draw all people to himself, and sometimes seeing ourselves reflected in Jesus’ person can make us more likely to approach him.
In movies, plays, even musicals such as Jesus Christ Superstar (now at the Riverside Center by the way), the stories are melded together to elicit an emotional response (perhaps more so than any objective accuracy). Even a number of our children recently went to the King of Kings, an animated version of Jesus’ life and Passion. As a result of the film, we overheard their young voices asking awe inspired questions, and a few tears were seen shed as Jesus died. Such artistic renderings have their place in conveying the realities of the story, for art can mirror life. It can help focus our attention on what we might have otherwise missed. It can facilitate the connection of our emotions to life…even as such efforts remain imperfect… glossing over facts, or taking artistic license at times to help the story flow.
Among my favorite Holy Week spiritual practices, I look forward to listening to Bach’s “St. John’s Passion.” It stands out for its dramatic portrayal of Jesus’ suffering, trial, and crucifixion. Its musical settings are meant to evoke emotion, not just images in your mind, because Jesus’ suffering was not just some mechanical, step by step history. It is not “just a story.” It really happened and the suffering was real with a human toll. As we contemplate how Jesus suffered and died for us…his loneliness, his own emotional desolation as people abandoned him, sadness as he gasped his last words…his life might just touch our own heart.
And if we slow down to listen closely, we find that scripture itself very well captures the truth of Roman executions. The Gospels are validated by outside histories of the day and archeology. There are three main parts to any Roman crucifixion: scourging, carrying the cross, and being hung to a cross publicly to warn others not to offend. In Jesus’ case, he was nailed. The scourging Roman soldier used a flagellum (a whip with multiple ends to tear your flesh more efficiently). You see, that would start bleeding and potentially send your body into shock.
Many have tried to guess how many times Jesus was struck. Some suggest thirty-nine times as that’s the limit under Jewish law, but it could have been more. The Gospels don’t say, and Jesus died under a Roman sentence. Many more strikes with the whip remain a possibility.
The carrying of the cross subjected one to more abuse – people hurling more than just curses at you. The fatigue helps facilitate one’s death. Then, hung on the cross, a means of execution usually reserved for the worst offenders against Rome, your death could last for days. Your body could remain on the cross to rot much longer. Again, the cross served as a warning to those who would defy the power of Rome.
Perhaps you have never considered this, but why would Jesus be offered poison instead of water to drink? For gall was usually a mixture of myrrh and vinegary, foul wine. Yes, it could serve as a painkiller or anesthetic for your suffering, slight relief though it would prove, but it wasn’t what your body longed for. And yet, even then, Jesus refuses this bitter consolation…this mockery of kindness. He chose to bear the full pain of his death…a death he would die thinking of us.
And then, why would the authorities want to break Jesus’ legs? You die on the cross from fatigue, exposure, blood loss and your system shuts down, but ultimately you can no longer support yourself in a way that you can freely breathe. Your legs give out. Your lungs cannot expand enough to welcome life-giving air. Breaking Jesus’ legs would suffocate Jesus prior to the start of the sabbath holiday…not for mercy’s sake, but out of political convenience, efficient calculation, and a nod to cultural and religious propriety. To ensure that Jesus was truly dead, that the breaking of his legs was not necessary, the Romans speared his side.
Now, I know this is graphic, horrific, seemingly inappropriate perhaps to speak about in detail at a church service, but this is indeed what Good Friday asks us to remember. Our Easter joy and our redemption come at a great cost…amidst great sadness. This should not be a surprise or a shock. For we have already heard all this from our faithful readers this evening.
It’s true! John attests to this very thing, as does our other Gospel writers. The early Christians would have known this horror well. Today, it seems far removed…almost unreal. Still…and I know this is true for me…I don’t want to understand it. I resist it. I want to gloss over it. I don’t want to believe it. It is too horrible to contemplate. Each wound, every insult, his horrid death…was for me…was for you. It is hard enough for me to accept the violence that I have seen and experienced in my life…but this? To contemplate this story makes my heart cry, and I want to push its realities away and move quickly past it toward Easter joy.
Yet, John won’t let us. He wants us to hear and contemplate the details. For even amidst the horrors of Jesus’ death…the horrors of our own life and losses…there remain signs of hope that we must recognize. Jesus said these things must happen. He died when the time was right. And through his death, prophesies and ancient promises are fulfilled.
From the prophet Zechariah 12:10, we hear that the nation would look upon the one they have pierced. Psalm 22 hinted that the Chosen One would have his garments shared among his oppressors. Pieces of clothing would be won through the casting of lots. Further, his strength would become dried up; and his tongue would cleave to his jaws…He would thirst. Then according to Psalm 34:20, none of the Messiah’s bones were to be broken…just has happened with Jesus. There are many other passages that prophetically point to Jesus’ death, but they also shout of who he is and his purpose. He came to gift us with true, abundant, and eternal life. He is our Messiah.
“It…is…finished.” Jesus’ mission…God’s plan for our salvation…was fulfilled on the cross, and Resurrection joy with a new and final age would soon begin as a direct result. Yes, Jesus wanted to fully share in our life, so he had to suffer our death, too. Even before we were ever born…Jesus was remembering us as he suffered each indignity, with every stroke of the hammer, in every tear he shed, with every faltering breath…as he died…remembering us as much as he did when forgiving the criminal at his side (recorded in Luke).
It is ultimately Jesus that asks us to remember what he went through so long ago. He wants us to have our hearts to be ripped open like his tomb would soon be, to watch and learn…to find assurance. For if anyone wants to follow after him, Jesus says that we must deny ourselves, take up our cross, and follow. Peter later wrote (1 Peter 2:21), “To this you were called, because Christ suffered for you, leaving you an example, that you should follow in his steps.”
Yes, Jesus really suffered and died, but it was because he really loves us. His death can never be understood rightly unless we also understand that suffering and death never has the final word under the sovereignty of our loving God. Jesus hopes our lives and love will be just as passionate, sacrificial, and real…that we won’t reject suffering if that cup most be drunk in order to fulfill God’s will and share God’s love concretely with others.
For through faith, we have become Christ’s body to be broken in love for the world. Fears of our own want, sin and death need not control us. They don’t have to dominate our decision-making process, worldview, or actions. We are to live in hope even as we suffer and die, for the powers of this world will never defeat us because of Jesus and his cross. Never! The dark powers of this world might still rage, but they are done for…It is they that are finished.
“So maybe today,” a non-ordained friend of mine (Robert Keith Cartwright, Facebook post, 4/18/25) so wisely urged in a reflection shared with his friends, “the invitation is this: Don’t rush through Friday. Don’t numb it. Don’t theologize it away. Don’t skip to Sunday. Let Friday do its work. Let it remind you that some of the best things come not by conquering the darkness, but by trusting God enough to walk through it.” Amen.
If you would like to hear my sermon or watch our service, the video can be found below. The Gospel text and sermon begins at about the 42:16 minute mark.The preaching text isJohn 18:1—19:42.
“So when Pilate saw that he could do nothing but rather that a riot was beginning, he took some water and washed his hands before the crowd, saying, ‘I am innocent of this man’s blood; see to it yourselves'” (Matthew 27:24).
Coming across this meme today made me consider the Pilate in me. I can clearly remember times in my life when I looked away, walked by, thought others could help instead of me, or assumed that things were hopeless, so I did not try. I absolved myself from sin as I washed the pain of others away from my consciousness. As humans, we have all likely been like Pilate at times – frustrated, feeling powerless or tired, wanting to say, “I don’t care anymore,” “It is not my problem,” or “The heck with them!”
Yet, Jesus modeled a new way to live. He reached out to people to heal, and he let himself be touched for healing too. It wasn’t because they deserved it, and it always came free of charge. He never let religious piety or cultural propriety get in his way as he did so. His life embodied the heart of the law which is love – loving God with all he was and others as himself, for God is only love (1 John 4:8).
So, he asked his followers to share what they had with others in need, loving even enemies, and not just from their abundance, but trusting in the provision of our daily bread. He saw the blind man needing help although the man was obscured by a large and noisy crowd – a crowd that wanted him to shut up. He recognized the timid Zacchaeus in his tree. He loved the child of God within each sinner waiting to be set free. He sometimes healed people, understanding their need, before they even asked. He had compassion on me when I felt utterly desolate, far from God, and he changed the direction of my life forever.
I don’t want to be Pilate anymore. I want to love with my life. I pray that by God’s help that I can be more like Jesus every day, no matter the cost. I know its a struggle to do what is right, because I still struggle. I know I will fail, but I trust I will never be condemned. I can repent, get up again, and walk like the forgiven adulteress without shame. It can be hard to speak truth when accusers seem always ready to pounce. We can fear potential consequences. Bullies real and imagined might threaten us. Certainly, we are not Jesus.
Yet, Jesus asks us to bear our crosses in his name anyway. As Paul urged early Christians in Corinth, “Be on your guard; stand firm in the faith; be courageous; be strong. Do everything in love” (1Corinthians 16:13-14). We have been washed through our faith and baptism, so that the promise of scripture will prove true. There’s no bowl of stagnant, dirty water good enough for those freed by Jesus. Instead, we are told, “Out of the believer’s heart shall flow rivers of living water” (John 7:38). It is a water (and life) meant to be shared; splashing onto others, blessing and nurturing new life with a grace filled abandon. It is a life like Jesus’ own.
Image: Jerzy Hulewicz, Detail from “The Cross.” 1918; public domain
This April, our Jewish siblings recall several major events in their history once again. Among them, Passover Festival is from sundown, April 12, through sundown, April 20 this year. This marks the passing of the Angel of Death over Jewish homes and their subsequent flight from slavery. On April 12, 1951, the Knesset passed a resolution establishing 27 Nisan on the Jewish calendar, a week after Passover, and eight days before Israel’s Independence Day, as the annual Yom HaShoah or Holocaust Remembrance Day. In 2025, this begins on Wednesday, April 23rd. Yet in 1943, 27 Nissan was also the day of the brave Warsaw Uprising against the Nazis. It occurred on April 19 during that year.
Remembering the sadness of slavery and the evils of the Holocaust with them, you will often read or hear the words “gam zu latova” in Hebrew which means “this too is for the good.” Most certainly in the face of such horrors and ongoing struggles, it seems a bit difficult to say such hopeful words. Yet, these words are shared out of deep trust despite what is seen, reason, or any emotion. It is about God’s glory but also God’s pledged steadfast love to the descendants of Abraham. God will always be faithful, and God will make good eventually come from any bad.
It is a similar theological belief that had Paul, a former Pharisee, write, “We know that all things work together for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose” (Romans 8:28). One of my favorite passages, it reminds us that while we face any family discord or rift, struggle with sin, or threat from any evil, persecution or death itself, God will not let us down. God will change curse into blessing much as he did with Balaam’s curse of Israel in Deuteronomy 23:5. God does this because our Lord God loves us. It is just who God is.
As we have entered another Holy Week and face any stressors and discord internationally, nationally, or within our personal lives, we come to remember Jesus’ own suffering and death. In the face of defeat with our Lord Jesus on the cross, his disciples scattered and afraid, only a few daring to watch and wait amidst tears and wailing. As Jesus shouts (quoting the Psalmist), “Why have you forsaken me!” toward God the Father in heaven, we might struggle to call Holy Week holy or Good Friday good. Yet, we now know this barbarous, desolate scene is not the end of the story. As an old sermon proclaims, “It is Friday…but Sunday is coming.”
Although Jesus is now risen, a bigger and more perfect “Sunday” is still yet to come. We live in an in between time of Jesus’ Resurrection and Ascension and his coming again to make all things new. Only then, when the time is right, will Jesus end suffering and death and wipe away every tear (Revelation 21:4). This time that we find ourselves within is often hard. It might be appropriate to grieve. Yet, it is not the entire story. Jesus is coming, and we pray in hope and love that he comes soon.
Until then, we walk step by step in faith, trusting in what has not yet come to pass, sharing hope and love with others, because Jesus loves us and will not abandon us. It is just who Jesus is. It is who we are called to be. And although God might seem hidden, we can trust that God’s ultimate will for us, our perfect joy, is being somehow worked out in our present.
Despite his own experience with desolation and abandonment, overcoming death, Jesus promises that we are not and never will be alone. We will overcome too, thanks be to his unending love for us. We can sing with the ancient Church and Church yet to be, “Christ has died. Christ is risen. Christ will come again,” for it is true. Jesus does not lie. This life we share, hard as it might prove at times, will all be for the good.
Adapted from an essay written for the April 15, 2025 weekly newsletter, the Hub, of Christ Lutheran Church, Fredericksburg, VA.
Remains of St Bonaventure Roman Catholic Church, Philadelphia (2014). Photo credit: Abandoned America.
“Why do we tear and rip apart the members of Christ, and rebel against our own body and get worked up to such a frenzy that we forget that we are members of one another? Remember the words of the Lord Jesus, for it says, ‘Woe to that person, it would be better for him if he had not been born than to cause one of my elect to sin. It would have been better for him to be tied to a millstone and to sink into the sea than to turn away one of my elect.’ Your schism has turned many away, has plunged many into discouragement, many into doubt; all of us into grief, yet your rebellion is continuous!” – The First Epistle of Clement of Rome to the Church in Corinth, date uncertain, sometime before 70 AD or even at the end of the reign of Domitian (c. 96 AD).
I’ve recently been reading The Apostolic Fathers in English. The book includes ancient texts from the earliest days of the Church. Some are pastoral letters. Others were likely sermons. Yet they often reveal the controversies and arguments of their day.
Apparently the early Church was filled with ill tempered people prone to pride. They often seem to have struggled with submission to authority, and yet they seem to have needed more often than not the proverbial rod rather than the shepherd’s staff to keep them focused on the Gospel. They fought among themselves. They jockeyed for power and position. They could be dishonest as they did so. They became divided, sometimes hating one another. I have come to notice through my reading that early Christians were much like some of us modern Christians today.
In today’s world when a theological argument comes (as they will thanks to our limited human intelligence and sin), we are prone to split denominations or congregations rather than face the difficult call from Jesus to reconcile – or at least struggle towards reconciliation. These splits are often precipitated by one or two people shaping a consensus then drawing others into the fray. Paul warned the early Church about people stirring the proverbial church coffee pot and drawing up grounds of discontent. He writes, “I urge you, brothers and sisters, to keep an eye on those who create dissensions and hindrances, in opposition to the teaching that you have learned; avoid them. For such people do not serve our Lord Christ but their own appetites, and by smooth talk and flattery they deceive the hearts of the simple-minded.” Certainly, their appetites could reflect greed or a desire for power, a disordered search for significance or other sin, but sometimes, people causing such disarray don’t realize it. It might not be intentional. They can be acting out over wounds of their own past. Unhealthy people can make unhealthy choices. They can also influence others.
Likewise, my social media feed gets too often filled with Christians demonizing one another intentionally or not. For example, “Lutherans,” some Christians posted recently, “are sex traffickers and money launderers.” These posts came into being because member agencies of Lutheran Services of America help our federal government contractually serve citizens and others in need within our country’s jurisdiction. Often, these agencies do so more cost effectively than if the government did it themselves. Through such government contracts and grants from other entities, one in fifty Americans are helped through addressing all kinds of needs – foster care, adoptions, at risk schools, senior services, homes for the physically and intellectually disabled, and much more. Services can include immigrants and refugees. And there lies the rub…
As member nonprofits already provided foster care and adoption services since the 1800s, they have been asked by past administrations (both Republican and Democrat) to help care for unescorted minors in the United States for decades. With an history dating back to World War II helping refugees, they were requested to help with the currently unpopular task of assisting immigrants and refugees. They do only what they are asked to do by the government or through grants as legally contracted to do. If one doesn’t like a program, individual grants and contracts can be cancelled or redefined. No one is helped to run across our nation’s border. Laws aren’t broken, and the organizations are audited annually by outside groups. They operate in a way where any profits go toward maintenance of current efforts or establishing new services. Lutheran Services in America even has a four star, 100% rating on Charity Navigator.
Yet, I see some people openly espousing Christian values on social media, then they turn to virtually shout that these organizations are betraying our nation, corrupt, and “getting rich.” They often wrongly conflate independent nonprofits with denominations as they do so and repeat false claims heard elsewhere with more rumors than evidence. No reason or fact mitigates their attacks. All remain guilty in their minds, even as independent nonprofits (like people) can vary in quality and performance. Yes, Roman Catholic, Episcopal, and other denominational efforts are condemned in similar ways.
Further, I have seen other Christian people who support such nonprofits denounced by these publicly self-identified Christians. They can be called “libtards,” parasites, and worse. The negative rhetoric of television personalities, radio hosts, podcasters, or even memes can infect the body of Christ and spread. In Philippians 4, Paul requests, “Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near.” Rather than being anxious and angry, he suggests that trusting in God and turning to him with hope “will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” He commands, “Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.” Instead, too many modern Christians keep a list of transgressions both real and imagined. Focusing on these, they lose their peace and too often their tempers.
As I’ve written elsewhere, when it comes to the growing influence of New Apostolic Reformation (NAR) churches, it can become much worse. Those who disagree with the NAR view are said to be possessed by demons, thus they need to be soundly defeated if not (amidst extreme adherents) wiped out. They adhere to a Seven Mountain Mandate, seven aspects of society that believers seek to gain influence and dominate to prepare if not precipitate Christ’s return: family, religion, education, media, arts and entertainment, business, and government. The problem comes when abuse and problematic techniques are employed; when sin is excused in the pursuit of power. The disease spreads as elements of the teaching become accepted by other Christians. Battle lines are drawn.
Some avowed Christians with NAR backgrounds in the government or influenced by similar theologies have thus reluctantly called the above organizations providing social services and the people supporting them Christian, for they will only do so in quotes. It seems clear that they wish to insinuate that such organizations and people are not Christian, at least in the way that they define Christians. In fact, they aren’t afraid to call other Christians’ salvation in doubt or claim they are controlled by literal demons. Those who do such things bring to my mind the Super Apostles of Paul’s time who were neither super nor Apostles in Paul’s assessment (see 2 Corinthians 11). Unfortunately, many of the President’s spiritual advisors reflect this theological view, and its unyielding harshness has made its way subtly yet influentially into our political speech.
Bearing false witness is a serious sin causing brokenness no matter what positive goals we might claim. Yet, I have had pastors and other Christians (most often Baptist, Evangelical, or conservative Roman Catholic) tell me privately that they can live with statements they know to be false, coarse, even overtly sinful during this political season of history because the ends in their mind are good. (I was taken aback that they so easily excused such behaviors.)
Luther’s comments extensively about the commandment not to bear false witness in his Large Catechism. He expands our understanding of the commandment beyond legal necessities to all offenses of the tongue, “For it is a common evil plague that every one prefers hearing evil to hearing good of his neighbor; and although we ourselves are so bad that we cannot suffer that any one should say anything bad about us, but every one would much rather that all the world should speak of him in terms of gold, yet we cannot bear that the best is spoken about others.”
If things cannot be properly proved, don’t say them. If you hear of secret sins that are not “notorious” (illegalities or causing significant harm to others), keep them secret. And interpret your neighbors’ actions in the most generous way possible, for we will be judged as we judge our neighbors (Matthew 7:2). We also are taught to pray by Jesus. We are to ask that we be forgiven our trespasses/sin/debts as we forgive others in the Lord’s Prayer.
Luther further writes, “and it is especially an excellent and noble virtue for one always to explain advantageously and put the best construction upon all he may hear of his neighbor (if it be not notoriously evil), or at any rate to condone it over and against the poisonous tongues that are busy wherever they can pry out and discover something to blame in a neighbor, and that explain and pervert it in the worst way.” As I have asked my pastor friends who feel differently than me, I will ask you, dear blog reader, “Does the end justify the means?” As far as I have seen, Jesus never taught us that. Let our yes mean yes and our no mean no, and love even your enemies (Matthew 5). Jesus says, “be wise as serpents and innocent as doves” (Matthew 10:16), but he never tells us to be bullies. Meekness is the way of Jesus. To take up our cross is what he modeled.
Certainly in the age of DOGE, it is easy to find examples of right leaning Christians attacking the left leaning ones, as such hot button issues regarding cuts to social service, education, and immigration are for the present often in the forefront of the news. Yet leftist Christians can be just as insensitive, callous, and hateful as they speak or post about rightist Christians. For they are human, too.
I’ve mentioned elsewhere that conservative leaning Christians can be called fascist or Nazis just because they might want to secure borders, address concerns about violent crime, and promote economic growth. Certainly, as with the left, some among the right can go to excess in their dogmatic pursuit of political ends. Some can indeed sin or support sinful policies. Yet, the basic goals represented are not always or automatically unreasonable. One could come up with policies between a wide open border and one sealed completely shut for example. Yet, we tend to be rigid like Pharisees when it comes to our politics, even though we are called as Christians to be open to the possibility of much more. God says in Isaiah 43:19,
I am about to do a new thing; now it springs forth; do you not perceive it? I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert.
Then during the sometimes violent demonstrations and riots against police use of force over the last decade, I was indeed treated differently if not rudely by some other pastors who could not understand or did not seem to like that I was a police chaplain. One pastor I know in a position of authority spent time questioning not just police policies but the need for police. Fair enough, I suppose, at least philosophically, although I think that assertion misguided. Yet, a number of that pastor’s social media posts during that period went further calling all police blue thugs…in effect calling me who had been an officer a blue thug, too. (This epithet echoed the too often misdirected anger of a popular theologian at the time.) There was no public openness to recognize that each officer and agency is different even as they all struggle with sin. One should not assume all people in a neighborhood are criminals. One should offer law enforcement officers the same amount of grace.
And further in these times of heightened tensions over “culture wars,” I had two younger pastors insist that I would not understand an issue because of my generation. They continued to speak on the issue as if I was not there. (Ironically as liberal politically as they viewed themselves, they exemplified the bias called ageism.) Certainly, context matters. Our knowledge is impacted by our experiences. Yet, that doesn’t mean that a person cannot have understanding or empathy. In denying that truth, sometimes even well meaning people can be blind.
In addition, I have seen people who often post about their faith attack me as a “bad” pastor/priest and poor Christian when I post something they don’t like or understand. For example, I suggested turning the other cheek over the Paris Olympic scandal – a transgender portrayal of the Last Supper during the opening ceremonies. Yes, it was insensitive to many conservative Christians’ worldview. Sure, they would not likely portray Mohammed in a similar way. Definitely, Christians disagree over gender issues and much more. Yet why waste time raging?
Paul, the great Apostle and missionary, gives this advice, “Therefore, as God’s choice, holy and loved, put on compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience.” I think I was on pretty solid ground to try to act and talk about the issue patiently in love rather than react in anger calling people names.
Still, one old friend asked how I could not be mad. They were mad at me for not being mad! Well, I have known people oppressed by laws forbidding faith practices, physically tortured, threatened with death because they loved Jesus. A potentially rude skit (depending on one’s beliefs perhaps) seems a regrettable but much lower threat to Christianity to me. Indeed, Christ can defend himself and has looked with kindness toward greater transgressions – like people abusing him and hanging him on a cross. So, let us offer such insensitive people forgiveness. They likely don’t truly know what they do.
And in response to my concerns over confirmed war crimes of the Russian Army in Ukraine or the US taking over Greenland “one way or another,” “no matter what,” I’ve had a fellow Christian try to shame me publicly in their own posts. I was to him a pastor against peace and security when I’m anything but. Some others have claimed I am being political when I am rather trying to suggest that we cannot ignore war crimes as Christians even as overall policy and goals might need to be debated. We should not threaten (even by insinuation) to take by force other lands against the will of the people who live there. We should demand honesty and transparency rather than lies or half truths when government policies on intelligence matters are violated, employee reduction of force is outside of regulations and laws and completed in an insulting way to people who dedicated their lives to service, or our potentially wrongly deporting people is at stake. If the government has admitted one mistake, potentially there can be or will be others.
Yet, Christians are imperfect humans, often casting us all into grief as Clement suggests. Another person responding to one of my posts swore in their own, “I don’t give a F**K about those who are unhappy about Ukraine. I’m sticking with my President.” All the while, their Christian identity was flaunted in multiple pictures on their page. What about sticking with Christ to defend an innocent populace; to try to offer justice with mercy as we strive for peace? Or how about being patient or kind amidst disagreements? That’s a better way in my mind. I’m not political for suggesting this, but I am humbly trying to apply Christian ethics as we work toward any goals. I believe we are capable of being more just and loving.
Christians have always had disagreements with one another because they are human and can err at any time. I am not foolish enough to think that I am not blind to my own bias and sin. We all are blinded by our pride and lack of faith at times. It is a good reason to listen to one another – especially those who disagree with us. They might see something that we…that I…don’t. Indeed, my Lutheran heritage suggests that our will is always in bondage to sin, and we cannot do or speak good without God’s help. So, we need to constantly reflect and pray about what we are to do and say. I confess that I can always be wrong when it comes to my thoughts on our political, communal life together. Yet, bishops and priests are called to address sin wherever they see it, as best as they can anyway, despite their personal weakness or imperfections.
Thus, trying to apply scripture to the real world can always be dicey if not done with humility, prayer, and the recognition that you can be wrong. It’s always imperfect. This means we should not hold people hostage in the pews during sermons, spouting overtly political policy statements, at least in all but the most unusual cases. Those in the pews can’t raise questions or respond back during the usual sermon. I have found it always easier, more productive, and fair to discuss bigger questions in small groups while sitting or standing face to face.
That said, Christians still might need to refer to current events in sermons, blogs, podcasts, or social media posts because that’s where we will find our modern people. If attempting to communicate over hot button issues, I think we should urge for people to love better and more, to remember grace not just utilitarian ideals, to encourage empathy and compassion, to condemn lies by commission or omission or any other deceitful acts, and encourage people to look to scripture with others and seek the Spirit’s guidance. And let us not forget that we need to be about our God-given work (within our worldly vocation) to serve as agents of reconciliation offering others forgiveness and peace in Christ’s name not condemnation. Addressing world events or public errors through the lens of Christian ethics and with a spirit of gentleness and grace is not being political if done soberly. Even Paul rebuked Peter and others when in Antioch over their hypocrisy.
Ultimately, I’m not talking about policy here. I’m suggesting that how we treat one another, speak to one another, post about one another, and even think about one another are all part of our public witness about Jesus. We must be rooted in Jesus even as we walk in the world. For, our children can be shaped by what we do or fail to do. Non-Christians can be pushed away by our infighting and hostility.
In this day of anonymous attacks, conspiracy theories, interpreting things in the worst way instead of through a lens of grace, and with half truths or outright lies being reposted without a care on social media and sometimes even shared through sermons, we modern Christians become guilty of a similar if not magnified sin brought up in the ancient text quoted above. “Why do we tear and rip apart the members of Christ, and rebel against our own body and get worked up to such a frenzy that we forget that we are members of one another?” This should give us all reason to pause.
With increased hostility on social media particularly since President Trump’s inauguration, I have posted several times that arguing on social media is vanity – as all things are vanity. It is a useless exercise too often ending in broken relationship. Mobs of people – sometimes people you don’t know – can seek to force one to defend an observation, prove an assertion, and ultimately submit to their favored view as they post article after rebutting article with an angry insult or accusation like a cherry on top. Memes and sarcasm often pass for debate. Insults become a norm.
Still in this time when the louder voices (not necessarily wiser ones) are often heard most clearly and other people fear being bullied, people with important things to say can wrongly choose to remain quiet out of fear. So, I often receive a thank you message or even a call as I try to reframe issues or address what I think might be wrong – hopefully politely and nonanxiously while referencing scripture and Christian values. People long to hear dissenting yet reassuring voices rather than the most angry ones. They are glad to see mature behaviors and dialogue fostering peace rather than conflict. As for me, if I feel insulted or triggered by what others say, I, too, can consider what they wrote, turn my cheek, and scroll away. Dissenting and minority views need to be heard, or else we risk a tyranny of the majority, a form of group think potentially affirming injustice from the left or the right. Engaging people with gentleness and respect, offering empathy and compassion, are biblical models of discourse despite so many modern denials.
A friend asked why I still post articles and observations if I think arguing on social media is such a waste of time. He posted that my practice to post opinions, articles, and blog pieces seemed ironic in view of my assertion. Well, love much like arguing is always a choice. I can still post articles which I think are important and speak about weighty issues, but I can choose whether to engage others or not. I don’t even have to allow for comments (using social media controls) if I don’t want to, because people can read what I post or ignore it. And to be honest, I don’t have time to type my arguments back and forth all day when I have more important work to do.
Meanwhile in the very real world, we can find positive examples of repentance and reconciliation. My former congregation had suffered a major split. Ultimately, the pastor was blamed by many for the congregation failing to grow. I believe that he did do some things wrong in trying to address his accusers, but the congregation was stuck in a rut. People to often said to new people, “We don’t do it that way,” and sidebar conversations fostering dissent were common problems. These behaviors are often identified by research as church-busting behaviors and attitudes. Rumors, gossip, and angry words took a toll. All the while, people left. They did not come to church in order to take sides and fight. They longed for something else entirely. Eventually, there was a vote to remove the pastor who did not want to leave. It was a tie, broken by the President of the Council whom voted to keep the pastor. Things deteriorated from there until they had to choose between what bill to pay. They were running out of people, money, and time.
Digging out of this situation was a Spirit-led process. The remaining members, previously addicted to infighting, hit a bottom of sorts. They repented from their past behaviors in community. They became open not only to change but perhaps importantly more open to God and others. During the recovery period, there was a lot of hard work by the Assistant to the Bishop Jean Bozeman, the Interim Pastor John Waltonen, and the leaders of the congregation and its people to help them heal, forgive and reconcile. Prayer and biblically honest self-reflection were a big part of the process.
When I came into the community as pastor, I was asked to continue that journey with them, and together we grew not just in numbers but in love for one another and in shared mission outside of our doors. After a few years passed, the bishop at the time said we had become a new people. Where neighbors said they previously did not even recognize there was a church in our lot, local county authorities began to call our community a hub of the county for our congregation’s welcome of others to use our resources, a willingness to work with other community groups to help neighbors, and our loving others even when we received nothing in return. It was a beautiful thing to see and to be part of. It stands as a witness to Jesus and the power of his Spirit, and there are many more miracles that I could report from my eleven years there.
So, if we think that as the people of God that we cannot change, that we must conform to the behaviors of the world around us in order to get by, well, that itself is a lie. Before I was ever ordained, I had a foundational, transformative experience that later informed my approach to ministry. I tasted what the Church can be at its best. I was deeply blessed to have encountered the example of Brother Roger of Taizé and eventually live with him and his community.
You might know that Br. Roger helped refugees and Jews in Vichy France risking his own arrest. He helped German released prisoners of war following World War II. He continued to reach out to and support his French neighbors who were communist or anti-church as the community sought to recover from the war together. Over time, he attracted people to Christ through the authentic love which he lived – not badgering or bullying or vilifying. Br. Roger sought to embody Christ, and soon others came to share in his vision and life. The Community of Taizé is an ecumenical one, half Protestant and half Roman Catholic, and church leaders can come from all kinds of Christian traditions to reflect, discuss, and learn while visiting. Popes, Patriarchs, political leaders, authors and more have come.
In addition, thousands of young adults can also come to that small village each week from all the inhabited continents and across denominations. Some young adults just show up because they hear lots of young adults are there, but many more come seeking something deeper. Through a ministry of hospitality and a community centered on becoming a living parable of trust based on the Beatitudes, people often come to see Christ and the Church in an entirely new and vibrant way. Again, love is a choice, and when we gather, not to dominate but to serve, not to just speak but to listen, as one Church in common fellowship despite important theological, political, ethnic or other differences, people can begin to see the Risen Christ alive in us. And we might be blessed to catch a glimpse of Jesus in them, too.
In lieu of schisms, we can seek unity. In the face of anger, we can refuse to respond in kind. For as the Second Epistle of Clement critiqued Christians of that day, when people who do not believe in Jesus “see that not only do we [Christians] not love those who hate us, but that [we do] not even [love] those who love us, they laugh at us and the name [of Jesus] is blasphemed.” How we do things, accomplish things, talk about things, is as important as any goal or value that we espouse. Yet if our words, actions and hearts don’t reflect love especially to other Christians, let us not fool ourselves. We are not of Christ but more like children splashing in the dank puddle of our sin rather than the wide and deep waters of our baptism. We need to repent and do better. For, we bear the name of Christ. That is to remain our primary identity at all times – over national, political, ethnic, or racial identities. We are in this world, but not of this world. As Jesus prayed, he is in us, and he wants to be seen. He longs for us to be one, not tearing one another apart.
No indeed, we are not the first in salvation history to be hardhearted, stiff necked, and prone to taking our eyes off of God in order to pursue bright and shiny objects of our desires in this world. In our hubris, we can too easily strive to be our own god. Whereas, Ephesians 5:1-2 urges, “So try to be like God, because you are his own dear children. Love others as Christ has loved us. He gave his life for us, a sweet smelling offering and a sacrifice to God.”
This is a struggle as old as time itself ongoing in all of us. So as the Israelites transitioned from slavery into freedom, as they moved from being tribal to one nation, God gave them this direction that speaks to us, too, “Circumcise, then, the foreskin of your heart, and do not be stubborn any longer. For the Lord your God is God of gods and Lord of lords, the great God, mighty and awesome, who is not partial and takes no bribe, who executes justice for the orphan and the widow, and who loves the strangers [immigrants], providing them food and clothing.”
If we wish to become one as Jesus prayed, we must always seek to somehow bless “the other” in whatever we do. We are to seek to love one another as ourselves (Mark 12:28-31) – at home, school, work, in politics, and yes, even on social media. Especially as Christ’s body, we are to remember Christ’s instructions as he shared his Last Supper with those he loved, “A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another” (John 13: 34-35).
Tearing one another apart should be deemed anathema whatever the fears we face, our feelings, or excuses. For we are “called to be saints, together with all those who in every place call on the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, both their Lord and ours” (1 Corinthians 1:2b).
Unless otherwise indicated, all scripture quotations for this post are from the New Revised Standard Version Updated Edition (NRSVue) translation.
“Christ healing the blind,” by Thobias Minzi, Tanzania (2010)
This morning as we come within a day’s walk from Jesus’ goal, the cross, we hear the third of three predictions within Luke’s account of Jesus’ death and resurrection. These predictions have been gifted to his disciples to help them prepare themselves for what must come – a future they have been resisting. “Everything that is written about the Son of Man by the prophets will be accomplished,” Jesus taught, to include his suffering and death. The cross cannot be avoided.
So, who’s responsible for Jesus’ suffering and death? These three prophecies give us a clue. In the first prophesy (Luke 9:21-22), Jesus accuses the elders and chief priests and scribes of what will come. During the second (Luke 9:44), Jesus says he will be handed over the hands of men – all humankind is hinted at here, including the Passover mob in Jerusalem. They will soon shout for another’s release rather than for the release of our beloved Jesus. In the third prediction (from today’s sermon text), we hear that he will be handed over to the Gentiles, nonbelievers, the Romans, and he will be mocked and insulted and spat upon. The religious authorities against Jesus, the Romans and powers of this world, and we ourselves share responsibility for Jesus’ death. For through our sinfulness and participation in the fallen nature of this world, we all share guilt in his condemnation. Not one of us is free of this sin. For even as he “died for us,” Jesus died for our sins.
You might also notice that Luke’s account leading to Christ’s cross is not a straight-line journey geographically. Jesus has wondered a bit to attend to his ministry and await the right time. Yet it remains a journey of destiny…a fulfillment and offering of all that Jesus is and has for the sake of others. And as he speaks of his death, this love for the world, Jesus often teaches that disciples (including us) have our own crosses to bear as we might be ridiculed, attacked, or even killed for our faith – our trust in Jesus. Yet, our cross is also found in the sacrificial love we are to offer each day to others including our enemies – such things as patience, charity and care, as well as forgiveness. In doing so, we are to die to ourselves. We lay aside our will and our good in order to fulfill God’s will and the good of others. (Whether they deserve it or not is not the issue at all, for we don’t deserve our Christ’s love or salvation either – not one of us.)
Surprisingly, his disciples still don’t get it. They are blind. In fact, Luke says so in three ways. (There’s that number three again, a symbol of divine fullness and completion in Jewish numerology.) The three phrases describing the disciples blindness drive Luke’s point home for us as if they are three nails being pounded into Jesus’ two hands and feet: “They understood nothing…it was hidden from them…they did not grasp what was said to them.” These three descriptions of Jesus’ followers are somewhat ironic, for you might recall Jesus’ visit to a synagogue where he first preached. It was among his earliest words spoken as reported by Luke.
Remember? Jesus took a scroll and read from Isaiah (Isa. 61): “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”
Along with other promises of the prophets, this passage revealed the essence of Jesus and his purpose among us. Jesus has come to save and to heal…to seek out the lost, forgotten and suffering…for those that are blind. As we prepare for Jesus’ Palm Sunday entrance to Jerusalem, today’s stories where he heals the literally and figuratively blind serve almost like a bookend to his reading from Isaiah as he began his public mission.
This time, Jesus will embody Isaiah’s promises. Just outside of Jericho, an unnamed blind man demands healing. “Son of David, have mercy on me!” Son of David was a traditional, prophetic title anticipated for the Messiah. And Jesus hearing the beggar stops…and Jesus heals. Yet, it is almost a non-miracle miracle. There’s no grand pronouncement or discourse. There’s no mumbo jumbo like a magician or any concrete action on Jesus’ part. No one is touched. No, he simply declares, “Receive your sight; your faith has saved you.” The man saw Jesus for who he was with the Spirit’s help, with the gift of faith…of trust in Jesus. Then, that’s when healing happened. A new life for this culturally and religiously marginalized man began.
And as Jesus finally enters Jericho, we meet the beloved Zacchaeus made popular in the children’s song. And if you have been to VBS, you likely recall that he’s a rich but wee little man. Certainly, he was short, but he was also little esteemed by his neighbors because of the way he lived. He was short in stature and status – a traitor working for Rome, a cheat as tax collectors of this days often were, and despised and hated as a sinner. Yet, Zacchaeus had come to a point of spiritual poverty too. As a chief tax collector, a Jew turned chief oppressor to his people…a neighbor who stole from and cheated others…a person who lived for himself first… he died a bit more each day inside from his sin. Zacchaeus was blind in a different way than the first man, yet blind, nonetheless. And hearing of Jesus, he appears at some level to understand who Jesus was. He felt a need for Jesus and healing, and the Spirit drew him toward Jesus.
And so, hoping against hope, Zacchaeus climbs a tree to just catch a glimpse of Jesus…Perhaps, he’s much like the woman who weeks ago we heard desired to just touch the hem of Jesus’ garments and be healed. Jesus saw Zacchaeus in his hunger and hope, way up, hidden in the tree, and before Zacheus even had the chance to ask for it, Jesus declared Zacchaeus’ healed. “I must stay at your house today.” That’s joyfully what Jesus said. It is what Jesus does. It is who he is. He welcomes people into relationships with him and forgives them. As the Pharisees and others so often grumble and accuse, Jesus enjoys being the guest of sinners. Jesus is not ashamed to be seen with them, for he has come to find, and to heal, and to save them…to save us.
This encounter between Jesus and Zacchaeus reminds me of a scene reported by Matthew 8 where a centurion says, “Lord, I am not worthy to have you come under my roof (to be my guest), but only say the word, and my servant will be healed.” Now in this story, another similar non-miracle miracle has happened with Zaccheus…no pretense…no show…just blindly trusting in who Jesus is with his heart. Through that gift of trust, Jesus heals Zacchaeus’ spiritual blindness. Knowing his hunger Knowing his need. He is not worthy to receive Jesus under his roof or in his heart, yet Jesus doesn’t stand for that. He comes to him anyway.
In response, Zacchaeus is so emotionally and spiritually touched, he says that he will make amends for what he has done beyond that called for by the laws of Moses. He’s going to be more generous than necessary. And yet note that he is forgiven before he ever, ever, ever makes a commitment to any penance. He’s making amends…his desire to love others and make things right…it is a response to his being loved first. (Just as in 1 John 4:19, we, are to love because God in Jesus loved us first.)
Jesus affirms Zacchaeus and his own purpose by saying, “Today salvation has come to this house, because [Zacchaeus] too is a son of Abraham.” Abandoned by the Jewish community…left outside the family of Abraham as far as they are concerned, Zacchaeus seems like a hopeless case. Yet Jesus has fulfilled God the Father’s promise to Abraham and his descendants (see Genesis 12:1-3 and Genesis 17) that his children would be heirs to God’s love forever. Never forgotten. Never alone. Never abandoned. This is just as Jesus will remember and fulfill his promises to us who believe…who trust him.
Yes, whatever our blindness…whatever our own poverty and need…Jesus knows it before we even ask. (We cannot hide our sin from Jesus. We cannot hide our needs. He knows!) In the blindness of the disciples…in the blindness of the beggar or Zacchaeus…in the blindness of our own sin…Jesus’ journey was and remains about his seeking out and saving the lost. Healing the blind was one of the great Messianic miracles forecasted, predicted, promised in Isaiah. And, it proves the final miracles that Jesus will perform before he enters Jerusalem for the last time.
The beggar and Zacchaeus had no right to expect anything, and yet Jesus knew of their need and responded in love. He reflected the great and profound Jewish virtue of hesed. It is a hard to define word as it incorporates an ongoing love, mercy, grace and kindness…the love of God. It is a quality that moves someone to act for the sake of the other…not expecting anything in return…not considering what is in it for them. It is a love reflecting how God loves His people genuinely, immutably, loyally, generously. It is what Jesus shows in his life. It is who Jesus is. It is the love that we are called to share in his name in our families, other relationships, and as we participate in the political and unfair and “real” world that’s around us. We are to seek to love for Love’s sake…God’s sake….For, God is only love (1 John 4:8).
Next Sunday is Palm Sunday, the start of Holy Week. We are invited to walk with Jesus in remembrance as he travels within the city of Jerusalem and accepts his cross. It is a time within our liturgical year which challenges us to understand Jesus better…to look beyond our own sin and suffering to try to grasp onto his own purpose….his passion for us and our world…his grace. It is another opportunity to invite Jesus under our roof and into our hearts again, so that by his word we may be healed. Then, we are to go into the world to love, serve, care and reconcile in thanksgiving for this gift.
“Come down,” Jesus tells each of us, “Follow me. I have a surprise for you. Salvation has come to your house. I want to dine with you, because I love you. Will you let me in?….Will you trust me that I won’t lie to you?” Through trusting in and sharing that perfect hesed which is Jesus…a new journey may begin for us where we seek to follow his example…But following Christ’s own example, he asks us to also to look beyond our household, and our congregations, and our human borders – interpersonal, cultural, racial, geographical, political, whatever borders you want to define! “Go beyond them,” he says, “I want to call all people to myself” (John 12:32). We are not to be like the grumbling scribes and pharisees judging people as fallen too far. We are to look for the poor, the captive, the blind, the oppressed, and the lost that are all around us…to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor (echoing Jesus’ own words). We are to do so in his holy name as a joyful penance, as amends…not to gain anything, but as a thank you. For we are why he died…and it is through his death and rising, he has gifted us eternal life with him. Amen.
If you would like to hear my sermon or watch our service, the video can be found below. The Gospel text and sermon begins at about the 18:22 minute mark.The preaching text isLuke 18:31—19:10.
Unless otherwise indicated, all scripture quotations for this post are from the New Revised Standard Version Updated Edition (NRSVue) translation.
Happy National Peacock Day! Oh, you did not know that National Peacock Day was a thing? Well, it is. While a quick Google search indicates that there is no official, widely recognized “National Peacock Day” designated by any government or organization, Upper Iowa University (UIU) uses March 25th as a day to celebrate its mascot, the Peacock, as part of their UIU Giving Days. You will find that zoos and arboretums have also signed onto the practice. So, it seems that this national day is just coincidentally placed on a day when Christians might want to celebrate the symbolism of this beautiful bird too. You see, today is when the Church marks both the Annunciation of Mary and the unnamed thief of Luke’s Gospel forgiven on the cross beside Jesus (Luke 23:39-43). The celebrations are set on the liturgical calendar as the day that Jesus came into the world within Mary’s womb and also the day that he died.
How and why is this? Jesus came into the world to suffer, die, and rise for our sins. He called for people to repent and hear the Good News throughout his ministry. So theologically, it appears quite beautiful to keep this connection – Jesus came into Mary’s womb to save sinners and bring abundant, eternal life through the cross. Yet really, it likely has much more to do with how the early Church understood salvation history and the world itself.
Looking at existing Jewish beliefs about the date for creation being on March 25, perhaps that itself being influenced by the timing of the spring equinox, Christians of the Middle Ages for unclear reasons came to agree that March 25 was the date on which creation began. It was also to become the date on which Christ was crucified. Among those earlier movers and shakers influencing this discernment process, you will find Tertullian, a 2nd-century theologian who suggested that Jesus’ death on the 24th of the Hebrew month Nisan (the day of the crucifixion in the Gospel of John) corresponded to March 25th in the Roman calendar, and Augustine of Hippo in his treatise “On the Trinity.” It seems a popular day, for ancient martyrologies also assigned the fall of Lucifer, the passing of Israel through the Red Sea, and the binding of Isaac to March 25.
If Jesus entered Mary’s womb on March 25, it made sense that Christmas be set on the liturgical calendar nine months later, December 25. (This is the real reason Christmas is remembered on that date, not simply to usurp pagan holidays.) Thus, the doctrines of creation, incarnation, and redemption were brought together as one through this liturgical remembrance, although the Bible never gives us a firm date for any of these events. In fact, scholars even debate over the year of Christ’s birth. The Bible is quiet on specifics. Yet with this important connection being made by the Church, March 25 was subsequently observed as New Year’s Day in much of Christian Europe. The Gregorian calendar, introduced by Pope Gregory XIII only made January 1 the universally recognized New Year’s Day in 1582. The United Kingdom, along with its colonies, was the last hold out to switch from the Julian calendar to the Gregorian calendar In 1752. (They likely resisted looking like Papists, but economics and other influences convinced them to finally change.)
So why peacocks? Where do they come into our tale? They were commonly used in the Greco-Roman world for decoration. Peacocks symbolized royalty, beauty, and immortality. People of that time associated “the eyes” on a tail of the peacock with the goddess Hera (Juno). She had a hundred-eyed giant for a guardian, Argus or Argos Panoptes. Eventually slayed by Hermes on Zeus’s orders, his eyes were said to have then been incorporated into the peacock’s tail by Hera in his honor.
Now, flash forward to early Christendom. Augustine of Hippo referred to a meal shared in his famous work, The City of God, where peacock, a delicacy of the time, was served. He reports that after taking a large slice of its breast, he “ordered it to be kept, and when it had been kept as many days as make any other flesh stinking, it was produced and set before me, and emitted no offensive smell. And after it had been laid by for thirty days and more, it was still in the same state; and a year after, the same still, except that it was a little more shriveled, and drier. (Book XXI, ch. 4).[i] This further supported the already existent cultural belief that the peacock was incorruptible and a sign of eternity.
Over time, peacocks became a common symbol for Christians. Peacocks with a floral motif alluded to the bounty of God’s creation in icons about creation. It also could signify immortality and Christian resurrection. The peacock portrayed drinking from a vase came to symbolize drinking the waters of eternal life – a baptismal motif. With those symbolic connections, you find peacocks in many icons about paradise and eternal life, as well as on ancient baptismal fonts, liturgical furnishings and architecture, and even tombs.
As the Penitent Thief is recorded in Luke pleading, “Jesus, remember me when You come into Your kingdom!” Jesus answers, “Truly I say to you, today you will be with me in Paradise.” This theologically and symbolically forges links between creation’s Paradise, the promise of eternal life in Paradise through the gift of our faith and baptism (available only because of Jesus’ death and resurrection), and the restoration of our fallen world with Jesus’s Second Coming.
The man who died beside Jesus found Paradise through trusting in Jesus, fully human and fully divine, dying unjustly for us all. Thus, he is often depicted with a peacock in his iconography. The guilty one who turns toward Jesus in hope is not named in scripture, and people from the Greek and context interpret him as a rebel, thief, and ultimately repentant sinner – none of these roles being mutually exclusive. Yet if you see a man with a peacock in icons, it’s likely there to help identify Adam or the one who was forgiven from the cross.
Over time, the man was given names by the Church. He’s called Dismas (this may have been adapted from a Greek word meaning “dying”) in the West. He’s called Demas (meaning “popular” or “the people,” stemming from the Greek word “demos”) in Coptic Orthodoxy. In an apocryphal gospel from Syria, he is called Titus (meaning “title of honor” or “honorable”). In Russian Orthodoxy, he became known as Rakh. The name origin is unclear, but one scholar theorizes that the Russian title may have come from a garbled reading of an inscription possibly due to damage of the title of a particular icon type of the Penitent Thief that is called “The Wise/Prudent Thief in Paradise,” written in Cyrillic.[ii]
Perhaps it is best we do not know his name. Much as the peacock symbolizes our eternal destiny through Christ, he can become a symbol for us all. For we, too, can prove to be malefactors, thieves, and rebels in our own way through our sin, yet Jesus will always remember us when we turn to him in trust. The signs, portents, and his own promises points us toward celebrating eternally in Paradise with Jesus – saved sinners, repenting on our way, looking with our own eyes only toward Jesus for our salvation.
Peacock Sarcophagus, Basilica of San Vitale, Ravenna. Peacocks look toward a Chi Rho, a symbol for Jesus. c. 7th Century (Source in references.)
The “Stunads all of you” t-shirt can be found at Paisano Prints.
Often as we hear the parables of the lost sheep, the lost coin, and what some might also call the parable of the lost son (better known as the Prodigal Son), they might often be broken up and addressed as individual teaching stories. Yet the Narrative Lectionary (our assigned readings) that we are using right now intentionally challenges us to look at them differently. How might we see something new or hear something different if these parables are lumped together?
The lost sheep, the lost coin, the lost son…just naming the parables in that way starts us to see a sacred thread of meaning woven within them. The lead up to this “unit” of scripture is Jesus with his face set toward Jerusalem. He is going there to suffer and die for all people…all people…to draw them to himself. As he goes, he heals people, dines with others, and this all becomes a time for teaching. He speaks to crowds again and again as they follow him as well as smaller groups around tables, banquets of sorts in his honor. Most often, he does so in parables or teaching stories.
Often these three stories are interpreted in a very personal, grace-filled way. We see ourselves as sinners struggling, and our Savior, the Light of the world, comes to us as the lost sheep, lost coin, or lost son in our darkness. And that’s a true and worthy interpretation. We are all sinners, some historically on a grander scale than others, but all of us are addicted to sin. We cannot help ourselves, and all sin separates us from the love of God, one another, and even the “true self” (the person) that God hopes for us to become. We need salvation! We need a savior to find us and bring us home.
I know this is a very common interpretation from the many commentaries that I have read, but also the personal stories that I have heard shared at Bible studies over the years. And even as a young person, someone who felt like an outsider, I often related well to this understanding of the stories. For it remains true, that God loves us and was willing to do anything for us, even die on a cross, so that we might come to understand and live in that love that’s being offered us. God’s greatest treasure is you, and you have been sought out, and waited for patiently, and run too to be embraced, so that you and all who believe might come to understand this great, sacred, life-giving love is for us.
Still, these are parables, right? These are a teaching method of Christ’s time meant to challenge the student, inviting us to wrestle. There’s no one meaning to a parable…not necessarily one best meaning. It can speak to us over and over again as we move forward in life and learning. So this morning, I want to suggest that we might like to look at the placement of this story more closely as a start.
Before today’s scene, Jesus has just spoken about humility and hospitality. These are meant to be great Christian virtues and an ongoing, embodied attitude in our daily lives. He then shares a parable of a great banquet. The invited guests made excuses – concerns about wealth, property, and family – and they refused to come. So, more are invited that do come, but there is still room. So, the master says to the slave, “Go out into the roads and lanes, and compel people to come in, so that my house may be filled” (Luke 14:15-24).
Then, Jesus speaks once again about the cost of discipleship. “Whoever comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, and even life itself, cannot be my disciple. Whoever does not carry the cross and follow me cannot be my disciple.” He has mentioned such things before in Luke, but here it is a bit different. Taking up the cross requires all kinds of sacrifices and costs, not just literal death. He’s asking the crowds if they are ready to give up all they possess – family, friends, wealth, reputation – to do what is right and follow him. Yes, we might even have to give up our long-held expectations and assumptions about others who Jesus is calling…even those who might be our traditional enemies. That’s a kind of surrender too, a cross bearing of sorts.
And then we come to yet another dinner, today’s passage. Who gathers near to him? It is the tax collectors and sinners. They gather near while the Pharisees and scribes are stand offish. “This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them,” that’s what the proud grumble. There’s that theme again – invitation, hospitality, giving up predispositions and long held expectation in order to welcome others. Ahh, now that gives us something to think about. What if we are not just the lost, but also like the Pharisees and scribes in these stories?
In the parable of the lost sheep, the shepherd abandons everything to seek out the lost one. In the parable of the lost coin, the woman does everything to seek for her treasure – little though it might seem. In the parable of the lost son, it is true the father waits for his son’s return, loving him from afar as the son wonders aimlessly. Yet, the father sees him approaching home because he never stopped looking for him to come home. With every glimpse at the horizon, the father would wonder where his son was and actively, hopefully scanned for his return. And what about the faithful son – the son who served seemingly without much thanks (at least in his own mind)? He has no room for welcome in his heart. He cannot even call the other man his brother. He says, “That’s your son…that son of yours…nothing to do with me.” He is too concerned about himself and his own status when he should see that his brother’s needs just might be greater than his own.
Now if we reflect, we’ve seen such stubbornness before in others in scriptural passages. We might sometimes see it in ourselves. You might know that on March 19th, it was St. Joseph’s Day, a traditional Italian celebration like St. Patrick’s Day, but a lot more pastry. I’m part Italian, so on that day, I saw an advertisement on social media targeting me. I saw a t-shirt for sale that had Jesus looking downward in sadness and beneath him were the words, “Stunads,all of you.” Stunads is an Italian American phrase (slang) that means “stupid.” “Stupid people, all of you!” Jesus on the t-shirt is perhaps with disbelief, saying, “Stupid, all of you.” Jesus in sadness, frustration, and dismay is confessing on that t-shirt that he is disappointed with us. We’ve let him down. It is an Italian American company that makes that shirt, but perhaps they are secretly Lutheran or Calvinist. For we, too, are supposed to recognize that we are stupid. We are selfish and we sin because we don’t see the big picture. We need help for that, forgiveness for that.
It might be shocking to some to see such an image and read those words, but this is not much different than John the Baptist. Remember what he called those who should know better but are resistant to his invitation and judgmental of others? He calls them a brood of vipers. It is reminiscent of Jesus own frequent words of grief, “you of little faith.” “You’ve disappointed me.” Humans have been stiff necked and tribal since before God said to Moses, “Go and tell the children of Israel that they are stiff necked people”…In Hebrew, that means they are haughty, stubborn, obstinate, churlish, severe, hard hearted, and harsh. We are stunads…stupid people bent inward upon ourselves as Luther says…lost in our depravity as Calvin says…always, always, we are bondage to sin…Sin impacts our decisions and the way we look at others in the world, and we need help. We are stupid and blind in our sin; thinking we are better and more self-sufficient than we are.
At about that same time, a friend of mine came across a quote from Penn Jillette, of the popular magicians, Penn and Teller. He is a well-known atheist who reflected upon someone’s attempt to share about Jesus with him. Penn insisted that he was not upset. He was touched. He said, “If you believe there is a heaven and hell, and you think it’s not worth telling someone about it because it would make it socially awkward, how much do you have to hate [that person] to not proselytize?” If this is true, than why are you hiding this truth from others. “To believe that everlasting life is possible and not tell people?” he asks, “This man cared enough about me to proselytize.” And that touched his heart.
My friend reading these words felt convicted, and although not a pastor or priest or church leader of any kind, he mustered these deep and meaningful words of faith, a confession and a hope: “This hits hard. I’m reminded of opportunities I’ve had to speak on this issue and passed. Because I’m all too aware of my own failures. But it’s not about me. It’s about Jesus. Who is the Son of God. Who died for our sins and rose again. There will one day be judgement for our choice of accepting Jesus or not.”
What if through such parables Jesus is speaking to both the believing sinner and the Pharisee that’s within each of us – the imperfect saint and overconfident, judgmental sinner? Within scripture, we see some Pharisees and other religious leaders rebuked because they judge. In their mind, the sinner is too far gone. They’ve lost any value. They aren’t worth seeking for, nor talking too. They are a little bit concerned about their reputation as well. In the light of Jesus’ teaching and actions what an immense failure. Stunads…stupid people.
My friend saw his failure…owned it…but he knew that grace meant it was not too late to give that sin to Jesus, receive forgiveness, and share the story of Jesus as best as he could…no theology degree…despite concerns for what others might say…but only shared because at some level he knew he was a sinner too. And, that grace helped him. Who better to speak of Christ’s love and salvation than one who knows his grace intimately…even when they might not understand it perfectly in its mechanics. (We will someday when we see Jesus face to face, but we don’t right now.)
God’s love, justice, and righteousness is so very different from the world’s. A small thing, a simple person can bring great joy to God. A child can speak with deep and divine wisdom. Meanwhile, the world looks for bells and whistles, and entertainment, huge miracles, and happy, shiny, seemingly perfect people to lead them. In arrogance, they can look at the small, simple, messy, and childlike as fools without worth. That aren’t worthy of going after…or looking for…or talking to. There’s a tension here. Something’s wrong, and it is called sin.
A favorite author of mine, Philip Yancey, once wrote, “Life is not fair, but God’s grace is not fair either.” We are asked by Jesus to not get in the way of those who wish to come near to him and listen. Better yet, we are to look for those outside the Church – those struggling, filled with doubt and questions, alone, forgotten, or perhaps strange to us in other ways…yet invite them to the banquet to experience Christ’s love and forgiveness without delay. After all, it is not really our love and forgiveness. It was gifted to us underserved and for free when Jesus died and rose again for our sake and the sake of all people. Amen.
If you would like to hear my sermon or watch our service, the video can be found below. The Gospel text and sermon begins at about the 17 minute mark.The preaching text is Luke 15:1-32.
There were abundant signs of hope and new life this morning as Boomer and I took our walk – a beautiful sunrise, the repetitive knock of a woodpecker feeding in the nearby woods, blue birds galore swirling all around us, a mockingbird performing its twirling mating dance and song from a roof top, and cherry tree blooms bursting forth. As you go through your day, I hope you keep your eyes open for beauty and small signs of hope. They are sustaining because God is there – in the small stuff.
As bad or challenging as one’s life can seem at times, God’s always at work creating and blessing, among the too often overlooked, weak, forgotten or small. Thus, you are never alone or unloved, no matter how small and powerless you feel, for God’s at work in and through you and your circumstances, too.
Happy Spring, friends! Trust in the loving promises of God.
Isaiah 43:19 – “Behold, I am doing a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?”
Husband, Pastor, Law Enforcement Chaplain, and member of the Clerical Errors (aka "The Three Priests"), I'm sharing my two cents with anyone who cares...
You can also find me on social media as Loudluthrn (Lou-d-Luthrn or Lou the Lutheran). It is a moniker given me while attending a Presbyterian Seminary, but I'm a loud and proud Lutheran too (just not too loud and proud, mind you).
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