Thunder, Perfect Mind

This is a feminist poem found at Nag Hammadi in 1945.

I thought it was powerful and beautiful.

Thunder, Perfect Mind

I was sent forth from the power,
and I have come to those who reflect upon me,
and I have been found among those who seek after me.
Look upon me, you who reflect upon me,
and you hearers, hear me.
You who are waiting for me, take me to your selves.
And do not banish me from your sight.
And do not make your voice hate me, nor your hearing.
Do not be ignorant of me anywhere or any time. Be on your guard!
Do not be ignorant of me.
 
 
For I am the first and the last.
I am the honored one and the scorned one.
I am the whore and the holy one.
I am the wife and the virgin.
I am the mother and the daughter.
I am the barren one
and many are her sons.
I am she whose wedding is great,
and I have not taken a husband.
I am the midwife and she who does not bear.
I am the solace of my labor pains.
I am the bride and the bridegroom,
and it is my husband who begot me.
I am the mother of my father
and the sister of my husband,
and he is my offspring.
I am the slave of him who prepared me.
I am the ruler of my offspring.
But he is the one who begot me before the time on the day of birth.
And he is my offspring in due time,
and my power is from him.
I am the staff of his power in his youth,
and he is the rod of my old age.
And whatever he wills happens to me.
I am the silence that is incomprehensible
and the idea whose remembrance is frequent.
I am the voice whose sound is manifold
and the word whose appearance is multiple.
I am the utterance of my name.
 
 
Why, you who hate me, do you love me
and hate those who love me?
You who deny me, confess me,
and you who confess me, deny me.
You who tell the truth about me, lie about me,
and you who have lied about me, tell the truth about me.
You who know me, be ignorant of me,
and those who have not known me, let them know me.
 
 
For I am Knowledge and ignorance.
I am shame and boldness.
I am shameless; I am ashamed.
I am strength and I am fear.
I am war and peace.
Give heed to me.
I am the one who is disgraced and the great one.
 
 
Give heed to my poverty and my wealth.
Do not be arrogant to me when I am cast out upon the earth,
and you will find me in those that are to come.
And do not look upon me on the dung-heap
nor go and leave me cast out,
and you will find me in the kingdoms.
And do not look upon me when I am cast out among those who
are disgraced and in the least places,
nor laugh at me.
And do not cast me out among those who are slain in violence.
But I, I am compassionate and I am cruel.
 
 
Be on your guard!
Do not hate my obedience
and do not love my self-control.
In my weakness, do not forsake me,
and do not be afraid of my power.
For why do you despise my fear
and curse my pride?
But I am she who exists in all fears
and strength in trembling.
I am she who is weak,
and I am well in a pleasant place.
I am senseless and I am wise.
 
 
Why have you hated me in your counsels?
For I shall be silent among those who are silent,
and I shall appear and speak.
Why then have you hated me, you Greeks?
Because I am a barbarian among the barbarians?
For I am the wisdom of the Greeks
and the knowledge of the barbarians.
I am the judgment of the Greeks and of the barbarians.
I am the one whose image is great in Egypt
and the one who has no image among the barbarians.
I am the one who has been hated everywhere
and who has been loved everywhere.
I am the one whom they call Life,
and you have called Death.
I am the one whom the call Law,
and you have called Lawlessness.
I am the one whom you have pursued,
and I am the one whom you have seized.
I am the one whom you have scattered,
and you have gathered me together.
I am the one before whom you have been ashamed,
and you have been shameless to me.
I am she who does not keep festival,
and I am she whose festivals are many.
I, I am godless,
and I am the one whose God is great.
I am the one whom you have reflected upon,
and you have scorned me.
I am unlearned,
and they learn from me.
I am the one whom you have despised,
and you reflect upon me.
I am the one whom you have hidden from,
and you appear to me.
But whenever you hide yourselves,
I myself will appear.
For whenever you appear,
I myself will hide from you.
Those who have [...] to it [...] senselessly [...]
 
 
Take me to yourselves understanding from grief,
and take me to yourselves from understanding and grief.
And take me to yourselves from places that are ugly and in ruin,
and rob from those which are good even though in ugliness.
Out of shame, take me to yourselves shamelessly;
and out of shamelessness and shame, upbraid my members in yourselves.
And come forward to me, you who know me and you who know my members,
and establish the great ones among the small first creatures.
Come forward to childhood,
and do not despise it because it is small and it is little.
And do not turn away greatnesses in some parts from the smallnesses,
for the smallnesses are known from the greatnesses.
 
 
Why do you curse me and honor me?
You have wounded and you have had mercy.
Do not separate me from the first ones from whom you have known.
And do not cast anyone out nor turn anyone away
[...] turn you away and [...] know him not.
[...]
What is mine [...].
I know the first ones and those after them know me.
 
But I am the mind of Perfect Mind and the rest of The Thunder.
I am the knowledge of my inquiry,
and the finding of those who seek after me,
and the command of those who asked of me,
and the power of the powers in my knowledge
of the angels, who have been sent at my word,
and of gods in their seasons by my counsel,
and of spirits of every man who exists with me,
and of women who dwell within me.
I am the one who is honored, and who is praised,
and who is despised scornfully.
I am peace
and war has come because of me.
And I am an alien and a citizen.
I am the substance and the one who has no substance.
 
 
Those who are without association with me are ignorant of me,
and those who are in my substance are the ones who know me.
Those who are close to me have been ignorant of me,
and those who are far away from me are the ones who have known me.
On the day when I am close to you,
you are far away from me,
and on the day when I am far away from you,
I am close to you.
 
I am [...] within.
I am [...] of the natures.
I am [...] of the creation of the spirits.
[...] request of the souls.
I am control and the uncontrollable.
I am the union and the dissolution.
I am the one below,
and they come up to me.
I am the judgment and the acquittal.
I, I am sinless,
and the root of sin derives from me.
I am lust in outward appearance,
and interior self-control exists within me.
I am the hearing which is attainable to everyone
and the speech which cannot be grasped.
I am a mute who does not speak,
and great is my multitude of words.
 
 
Hear me in gentleness, and learn of me in roughness.
I am she who cries out,
and I am cast forth upon the face of the earth.
I prepare the bread and my mind within.
I am the knowledge of my name.
I am the one who cries out,
and I listen.
I appear and [...] walk in [...] seal of my [...].
I am [...] the defense [...].
I am the one who is called Truth,
and iniquity [...].
 
 
You honor me [...] and you whisper against me.
You who are vanquished,
judge them who vanquish you before they give judgment against you,
because the judge and partiality exist in you.
If you are condemned by this one, who will acquit you?
Or if you are acquitted by him, who will be able to detain you?
For what is inside of you is what is outside of you,
and the one who fashions you on the outside
is the one who shaped the inside of you.
And what you see outside of you,
you see inside of you;
it is visible and it is your garment.
 
 
Hear me, you hearers,
and learn of my words, you who know me.
I am the hearing that is attainable to everything;
I am the speech that cannot be grasped.
I am the name of the sound
and the sound of the name.
I am the sign of the letter
and the designation of the division.
And I [...].
[...] light [...].
[...] hearers [...] to you
[...] the great power.
And [...] will not move the name.
[...] to the one who created me.
And I will speak his name.
 
Look then at his words
and all the writings which have been completed.
Give heed then, you hearers
and you also, the angels and those who have been sent,
and you spirits who have arisen from the dead.
For I am the one who alone exists,
and I have no one who will judge me.
 
 
For many are the pleasant forms which exist in
numerous sins,
and incontinencies,
and disgraceful passions,
and fleeting pleasures,
which men embrace until they become sober
and go up to their resting-place.
And they will find me there,
and they will live,
and they will not die again.
 

- Translation by George W. MacRae with a few small unscholarly illuminations by Wm. Jef Pratt

Of Miracles in the Sand

The Spirit drove Jesus out into the desert,
and he remained in the desert for forty days,
tempted by Satan.
He was among wild beasts,
and the angels ministered to him.

After John had been arrested,
Jesus came to Galilee proclaiming the gospel of God:
“This is the time of fulfillment.
The kingdom of God is at hand.
Repent, and believe in the gospel.” [Mk 1: 12-15]

Desert land, long and endless drifts of brown on brown on brown
Driven by the mind inside,  Spirit of endless drifts of brown on brown on brown
Echoed in the drone of endless drifts of day upon day upon day
Repeated in the panoply of realities of brown on brown on brown.
 
And I remain, deserted, desert endless whiling away the forty seconds
Seconds, minutes, hours, days until revelation of revelation
Tempted by realities wished, hated, tempted, rejected
Wild beasts of realities echoing in the drone of drifts of brown on brown on brown
 
Angels minister to souls awash in sand, dry and bone weary
Sipping crystal droplets of dew inside the endless mind echoes
Laying with the lion and lamb, shot through with laser-point realities past
Minister to ME!
 
Arrest ME! John is long gone, a platter’s offering
Where is my Galilee? Minister to ME!
Fullfill ME! Preach the succulent vowels of loving
Caress my brow, vision me the Kingdom
 
Desert land, lean and mean, sand falling from my ears
Repent! Of deeds done, undone, not done, not thought, thought, said, not said, not spoken
Whirling spools of sandmares sucking me upward, outwards, inside out
Realities picked apart, discarded, embraced, choose, choose the ONE
 
Believe, grasp it with your fingertips,  just lay in the pool, let the belief wash away
Sand scum clings, wash it away, wash it away
Brown on brown on brown settling on the bottom, new patterns of dunes
Mind free, Gospel calling, Jesus loves, unburdened moment to moment
 
At the knee of the Master
“Oh Master, Oh Master”
Enigmatic muscles contract into the faintest of smile, rising up
Renewed, revived, remade, unmade, created grain by grain, into this new thing
Oh Blessed Blessed Desert sand.
 

 

Amen

Healing, Loyalty, Forgiveness

I have a confession to make.

There are many times that I look at the Sunday readings, and I am at somewhat of a loss. What is there new to say?

And frankly, this story of Jesus and the paralytic falls into that category for me. More discussion on the age-old discussion–easier to forgive sins or heal?

So I went to the a site that I visit frequently, often just to read the thoughts of others. And I found the most wonderful reflection on this beautiful text (Mk 2: 1-12).

And I was sure that I could never write anything new or fresh given how wonderfully John Pilch had written on this extraordinary passage.

And then I went in search of an appropriate picture, and I found this one, and suddenly it was if some synchronicity had struck. It all came together in this wonderful realization that this was the perfect passage to lead us into Lent.

For we do begin that journey in a few short days. And this passage is really all about that journey.

As Mr. Pilch pointed out, first Jesus responded to the loyalty (which we call faith) in the friends of the stricken man and in their combined persistence to seek healing in the face the scribes who sat about skeptical of this man.

In return for that loyalty to him, Jesus heals–not the physical infirmity, but the soul infirmity. He forgives.

Finally, he cures. The paralysis is removed. And then, he sends the man back to his community.

We are poised to begin our journey with Christ. The road ahead is unclear but it calls us deeply, and strongly. We respond, not with some prescient knowledge of the future, but in faith, or loyalty to this Jesus whom we have known for a long or a short time. We have come to trust him, and know that he will not lead us astray.

Still, we do not KNOW. After all, it is faith we espouse. When we are loyal to friends, we are such not because we are sure of every request made by our friend, but because we trust them to never ask of us anything impossible or wrong.

We know we need healing. We have sinned, both by deliberate action and thought, but unknowingly, and often with the best of intentions. We are human, and it is not possible to avoid error in our thinking or acting, no matter how careful we are. And so we instinctively know that we are in need of Jesus’ fair hand upon our brow, comforting and soothing away our pain and sadness at our failures.

In some sense we are cured as well. Not perhaps of physical disease or illness, but of those distractions of life that pull on us constantly to turn away from ourselves and our spiritual being in pursuit of the mundane. Surely there is much that must be attended, mortgages need paying, food needs preparing, homes need cleaning. But we of course are prone to much more that is unnecessary. Too much television, Internet, frivolous wasting of time in arguing about events and things that will be there tomorrow.

Jesus helps us to see that we need this time desperately, because it is this time that prepares us to take on all the burdens of life for the rest of the year. Not just take them on, but in a way that does our faith proud, that sets us apart as a people who “do it differently” without hurting and cheating and indifference. Especially the indifference.

Jesus calls us to stop and remember that every step we take, every action has consequences to a global community. The things we buy and consume were made by others, in often far off places. Their lives may be very different from ours, and often much more limited and pain filled.

The paralytic is ordered to return to his community. We are to return to ours as well. We have been healed, we have been found faithful, we have been cured. We are called to live that life, within those parameters.

The journey is about to begin.

Amen.

Entering Into Ourselves

This sixth week in Ordinary Time brings us to leprosy, miracles and encounters with sin.

We today have little exposure to the disease known as Hansen’s Disease or leprosy. Indeed, there is some reason to believe that the ancients had less contact than we would be led to believe by the stories.

Given the limited medical knowledge of the Hebrews, leprosy was attached to any physical blemish, any disfigurement. Thus it was a mark upon the body, or upon anything for that matter, that was indelible, not going away.

 In Leviticus, Moses is advised by God how to deal with lepers, how they are to be excluded, kept apart and the leper must identify himself as such to all who come near.

As we know, in those times, physical illness or disease was associated with sin. This whole concept is played out in Job, where his friends are convinced that Job must indeed be sinful in order to be given such suffering.

We can look upon the reading in Leviticus and we can quickly see that analogies can be drawn to our lives today. We of course no longer avoid and look upon as sinful, those who suffer physical disease of any sort. At least we proclaim that we do not. It is of course still a question as to whether we look away and avoid those who have AIDS, or those who are homeless and alcoholic or drug addicted. Perhaps, I spoke too soon.

And we of course also avoid drawing a parallel between disease and sin. We understand disease as an ailment of the body, having nothing to do with the heart or the relative goodness or lack of it, of the victim. Or do we?

Jesus’ answer is unequivocal  as he heals without a single question, the leper who begs his help. There is not examination of his thoughts, beliefs or life before Jesus undertakes the cure. He simply reaches out and effects the cure.

And what of that? By touching the leper, he has committed the act of making himself “unclean” as well. He has become as the leper, and in doing so he demonstrates that there is no sin and no shame in the condition. He separates physical disfigurement from the habits of the soul.

And in doing so, Jesus forces us to look at ourselves, for we must now face the real fact that sin is not always apparent. It is not something visible we can see, it can and is hidden. And that means that we too may be harboring secret sin; sin we have not looked for, let alone confronted and dealt with.

The fallacy that sin is something easy to locate and define, confronts us, and we are humbled.

We are further humbled by Jesus’ willingness to take that public abhorrence upon himself and show it for what it is.

We, as lepers ourselves, unknowingly separate ourselves from God. Yet we too have only to reach out and ask for healing, for that transforming touch that will restore us to health in our souls. As the leper did, so can we do. But first we must accept our dis-ease, and seek renewal.

In a few weeks, we will begin that annual time of seeking to uncover our infirmities and to seek forgiveness and restoration. It is not too soon to begin the journey.

Amen.

Going Forth to Serve

Today’s gospel brings forth a passage that has disturbed many, especially in today when we view women’s struggle for full equality as a given.

Many commentators and not a few biblical experts are dismayed at the opening section of Mark 1:29-39:

On leaving the synagogue
Jesus entered the house of Simon and Andrew with James and John.
Simon’s mother-in-law lay sick with a fever.
They immediately told him about her.
He approached, grasped her hand, and helped her up.
Then the fever left her and she waited on them.

Here we go again, they sigh, Simon’s mother-in-law is made well only so that she can get up from her sickbed and take care of the men!

But such analysis misses a very salient and valuable point. The term “waited on them” is not akin to our definition. It is not like being a waitress at a bar or restaurant. No, this is a word that is used of deacons. It is a phrase that denotes ministry. Thus, we see that the first deacon recorded in the bible involving this new “movement” was a woman!

We are placed on notice immediately, that this ministry (that of Jesus) will be like no other.

Looking to the first reading from Job (Job 7: 1-4, 6-7) we see the deep pain and suffering that living is. Albeit, Job’s suffering is caused rather than merely encountered, the point is the same. We cannot ask of the world any “easy ride”. There is no bargain, no amount of pleading or working that will insulate us from the travails of normal life. We cannot make the night end more quickly, or avoid the aging process.

Life, real life is encountered only through faith in God. Paul claims that this sort of living is so wonderful that he cares not at all what he must endure to live it.

To the weak I became weak, to win over the weak.
I have become all things to all, to save at least some.
All this I do for the sake of the gospel,
so that I too may have a share in it.

Paul tells us that sharing in this new life is worth being weak and being a slave to all. It is worth ridicule and hardship. All is worth it to “have a share in it.” And Paul here, I would argue is not talking about his “ultimate salvation”. He is not saying that I endure all this so that I may be taken to heaven as a good soldier when I die. Rather he means, that by doing what he does, he is living heaven right now! This is the point. This is what is driven by faith, and what drives faith. One supports and enhances and furthers the other.

Mark shows us that this life is about healing. It is about driving out the demons that possess us, and curing our sicknesses, physical or otherwise. This is life–to seek out and help those who are in need, to show them the way to life.

Jesus finds what he needs in his retreat to prayer, where he is nourished anew. Yet, when found, he transitions back to the world:

He told them, “Let us go on to the nearby villages
that I may preach there also.
For this purpose have I come.”

It is our purpose to. Not to necessarily preach, as Paul did, though some are called to that. For most of us, living means to be in synch each moment with who we are, and who we are called to be. As Carlo Carretto suggested, we live on the vertical and horizontal at the same time.

(on leaving the desert) And so I found myself back in the world, in the midst of all the confusions, surrounded by my fellow men and women. …Humanity too is an absolute, and you must seek, love, and serve human beings just as you seek, love, and serve God. Jesus let us in no doubt about this inexorable and simultaneous movement into the two dimensions, the horizontal and the vertical.
The closer you come to God as you ascend the slopes of contemplation, the greater grows your craving to love human beings on the level of action. The perfection of men and women on earth consists in the integration, vital and authentic, of or love for God and our love for human beings. ~Carlo Carretto, In Search of the Beyond

It is living authentically.

Amen.

 

It Always Comes Down to Authority

 Mark tells us this in this day’s Gospel, that Jesus “spoke with authority and not as the scribes.”

What does this mean?

A cursory look at the definition of “authority” offers little help.

“The power to enforce laws, exact obedience, command, determine, or judge.”

No one would accuse Jesus of “exacting obedience”. Rather, he gave us reason to obey, warning us sometimes of the consequences of not obeying, but never does he force us to do his bidding.

Further, the word “power” seems inappropriate here.

Mark’s audience, as best we are able to discern, was under great pressure. That pressure came from Rome, who was at the time engaged in exacting its “authority” over the Jewish lands, especially in Jerusalem, the seat of the uprising.

Mark’s community, probably from somewhere outside Jerusalem, saw the brutality and ruthlessness of the Roman war machine.

So we must look elsewhere for what Mark meant by using the term “authority” as regards Jesus and his teaching.

I think that comes from his juxtaposition with the phrase “not as the scribes.”

We know that the scribes at the time were the “literalists” of their day. They interpreted the Scriptures and defined what was acceptable and what was not to the greater population. There were various codes to be adhered to, various practices that must be accomplished to be and remain in good standing as a Jew.

So they had a certain authority it would seem, since they declared the clean from the unclean, the pious from the not, yet, apparently they did not impress the population as speaking for God. Rather, they spoke as the established “church”. Few if any, so it seemed, thought of their teaching as anything but rote repetition of rules and regulations.

No, Jesus spoke as a prophet, one sent by God to EXPLAIN. A prophet is not a seer of the future, but one who assembles the “threads of the day” and explains what they mean for the average person. Prophets are sent when people “don’t see the obvious” and need to be told what is coming (if they don’t change their ways).

Mark goes further.

As I said, Mark’s community is under great threat. Mark, doesn’t stop with just explaining that Jesus has this “authority” and should therefore be listened to as a prophet. He fairly hits his community up the side of their heads!

Jesus cures a man cursed with a demon, and the demon shrieks, “I know who you are. The Holy One of God!”

No question now. Jesus is not just a prophet, he is God’s Holy One! “Listen to him,” Mark proclaims.

One can but imagine the uproar this caused in the synagogue that day. First this rather nobody from a small outlying village arrives and without schooling or training, speaks in the synagogue, explaining the scriptures in a way apparently new and quite different from the usual recitation of admonitions and blandishments. And then, he disrupts the sacred place with a healing, calling forth demons who shriek and create a ruckus.

“What is this?”

What indeed?

We can see in our mind’s eye, the crowds slowly walking away in small groups, whispering among themselves. We can imagine that the synagogue authorities watched all this and gathered too, to discuss this event, and what it might mean.

We all are required to obey certain authoritative acts. We must pay taxes, obey traffic laws, obey our parents, our bosses. That is normal, and for the most part good, for society depends on a degree of compliance voluntarily given.

However, we must always remember that there is a “higher authority”, one that always supersedes earthly rules. It is the authority written in our hearts by a loving God who has impressed upon us an ingrained “knowledge” of moral right. Jesus speaks as this “authority”. We read his words and ponder his teachings, recognizing that our hearts respond to the “authority” of his teaching.

While we often wish to rebel and take a “have you come to destroy us?” attitude, we know the truth of what He speaks.

Let us always shed evil and stand in the light of God’s truth.

Amen.

When God Speaks, People Listen!

Jonah has to be one of the oddest people in the bible. Certainly the oddest prophet.

If ever there was a person unsuited to be God’s messenger, that person would be Jonah.

When God first announces his mission, why Jonah tries to run away. This in itself is ludicrous, for who can escape God?

Of course, God’s way of dealing with Jonah’s refusal is most unusual, causing untold havoc to poor sailors whose ship he used as a means of travel.

Every child knows the story of how Jonah was thrown overboard and swallowed by a “whale” and spit forth upon the shore near Nineveh.

Thereafter, Jonah goes into the city and proclaims it’s destruction because of its sinfulness.

And, as everyone would hope (save Jonah) the people repent and God hears their repentance and is satisfied and spares the city.

This of course ticks off Jonah to no end, who sees God as some softie, all too willing to accept “repentance” and reject his plans to destroy the city.

Jonah quite plainly doesn’t like the way God operates.

I can imagine that God finds Jonah amusing, chuckling at Jonah’s theatrics, “Just kill me now!” he cries.

In thinking about it, I realized, that given Jonah’s lackluster committment to God’s desires, one can but imagine how he “announced” to Nineveh’s inhabitants, their imminent doom.

Imagine if you will, Jonah, walking slowly down the street, “only forty days more and Nineveh will be overthrown,” he murmurs to various passersby.  I imagine he says this in a rather sarcastic, matter-of-fact tone, with a tired voice, uncaring, and unsympathetic. All he can think of is that he has miles to go before he is done. And of course he wants to be well out of the city before the show begins. He needs time to scope out a good hill to watch the fire and brimstone show.

And yet, people respond immediately to his words. They ACT, from the lowliest to the King, all  take on sackcloth and ashes as is appropriate to show great mourning and repentance.

All of which ticks off Jonah all the more, since his wimpy God now forgives them, and spoils his show. All that popcorn, and nothing to watch!

It may seem a bit odd that Jonah’s story is placed in counterpoint to that of Jesus travelling along the Sea of Galilee, and calling to Simon and Andrew and the sons of Zebedee.

Jonah is the antithesis of Jesus in every way.

Jesus will prove to be the herald of God’s loving forgiveness and the king of forgiveness himself.

Yet, they are alike in one way:

The power of God speaking through them is heard and responded to immediately by those who hear.

Who has not gasped when reading this story, literally every time one reads it. Four men, all working men, all in a sense businessmen running their own enterprises, drop everything and follow this man who calls them forth.

They do not stop to discuss the wisdom of leaving their tools (their operating machinery), nor do they wonder how they will feed themselves and their families. They do not seek advice, ask any questions, or look upward for divine guidance.

They “abandon” their belongings, their families, all those who depend upon them, all because something in that voice commands them to in a way that leaves no doubt as to its origins.

Please give me that chance God, to drop everything and follow you without question, we cry.

Amen.

 

A Quest for God (Series)

I sometimes miss how incredibly good Biologos is. The site continues to impress me with its insightful and well thought out posts on science and faith. I must have missed the others, but happened upon the fourth in this series. It is described thusly:

Recently, we became aware of an email conversation between two young persons: one a young physicist and a deeply committed Christian named Aron and the other, Josh, a person who at least at the time the conversation began was a skeptic. The exchange is so rich that we’ve asked for permission to post it here.

Following are the links to the four parts. I place them here, so I can read them when I have the time, and hopefully you will too.

Part I:

Part II:

Part III:

Part IV:

Who is This Baptist?

I have always found John the Baptist a bit troubling.

That is, in spite of the fact that I find him most appealing.

He has that rogue contrarian eccentricity about him that I find compelling.

Everyone knows somebody in their family who is like that. Someone who is a non-conformist. Who speaks their mind, who is unconventional.

John surely fits that bill.

His parents were alerted both before and after his birth that he was special, and that he had a special place in the future of the Jewish people. Read Luke’s early chapters if you have any doubt.

He was “different” from day one.

And, in most of the scriptures, he was quick to recognize Jesus as the one for whom he had come. There is little doubt of that either.

In today’s Gospel, he merely says, “Behold, the lamb of God,” and Andrew, son of Peter, follows without question. John’s voice is powerful, his announcement carries weight. It is no different from in other parts of Luke and Matthew. John knows Jesus for who he is, and proclaims him without question or hesitation.

That is until later in Luke when John sends two of his disciples to Jesus to inquire: “Are you the one who is to come, or are we to expect someone else?” (Lk 7:19).

What? Is John now confused?

Or is John simply mirroring us?

We all, somewhere along the line of our faith journey, create a vision of who this Jesus is. We define him and his mission. We are assisted or hindered in that creation by a plethora of others, mostly well-meaning if often horribly wrong. They tell us who Jesus was and is for us today. To hear some, he was against socialism and unions, and for self-reliance. It gets a bit confusing.

But, in the end, we are left with this mosaic of Jesus, compiled, erroneously or not, in part or in full, of all of our learnings and experiences.

Is it any wonder that we wonder sometimes? “Are you the one who is to come, or are we to expect someone else?”

John, it seems to me, was reflective of this.

He had notions of who Jesus was supposed to be, and however that was, certain reports must have come to him about the Lord that were not what he expected. And so he began to doubt.

This man whom I touted as THE one, the one I sent others to, perhaps, just perhaps, I was wrong. Perhaps this Jesus is not the one my parents told me I was to herald.

So too do we wonder. Not so much about whether “this is the one” as whether we have a clue who this One is.

From time to time, he acts not at all like we would wish or expect. We are called upon to rethink the whole thing.

And as we do so, it seems to me, that most of the time we are called upon to let go of our self-serving definitions and explanations. We find that this savior is not an easy man to know or to follow. He demands of us a good deal more than we expect, and in ways wholly different from we thought.

And yet, or so it seems to me, we find this savior more worthy of following as we chip away our self-imposed lacquer. We find Him radically different from we had supposed, and we are again and again stunned with the brilliance of his light. If anything we find Him more compelling, rather than less as we discard the childish simple veneer we have so simplistically applied to Him.

One wonders what John thought as he discovered, if he did, that his vision of Jesus was quite different from the reality of the Lord.

Amen.

From Whence the Answer Comes

Today we celebrate the Epiphany, or what some call the Feast of the Three Kings. We turn to the Gospel of Matthew, 2:1-12.

Previously, Matthew explained the lineage of Jesus, and followed that with a brief statement of the circumstances of his birth.

Now Matthew provides the revelation.

Epiphany is a Greek word ἐπιφάνεια, epiphaneia, meaning the sudden comprehension of the full meaning of something.

And indeed, Matthew does this in an extraordinary and rather shocking way.

Herod is introduced though of course he needed no introduction to Matthew’s audience. Herod was King, yet he was propped up in his Kingship by Rome, for the religious leaders of Jerusalem never had favored him.

Soothsayers or astrologers from the East come looking for the child born under a new star, foretold to them in ages past, as harbinger of great birth. Herod hears of this and calls them to explain. What he hears “greatly” troubles him, as well it might to any king who knows his power remains on such shaky ground.

Ultimately of course the Magi find Jesus and pay him homage, and then by way of dream, they return not to Herod as promised, by avoid him as they return home.

By strangers, non-Jews, we are advised that this child IS the one, the savior. God has chosen, not Herod, not the religious leaders of the land, but strangers from the East to proclaim  that the Kingdom of God has entered into the world.

What a shock this must have been to Matthew’s listeners. How could God speak more clearly than to do something so utterly unexpected.

This should give us pause.

For we are trained to look to experts and our leaders to tell us what we need to know. We are expecting our “betters” to explain the importance of events in our lives. As children, we look to our parents and other adults. As students we look to our teachers. As workers to our supervisors. As citizens to our elected officials.

Yet God chooses not to introduce His son upon the human stage through the Jewish leadership, nor through Kings, no matter how titular. He choses foreigners, those who don’t share the faith of “his people”, if indeed we should limit God in such a way.

And we can be sure that they arrive by no simple error in reading the “tea leaves” if you will. No. We are sure God spoke actively to them for he warned them away from disclosing Jesus’ whereabouts as they had promised.

We, in our sophisticated lives have moved far away from seeking answers directly from God. We look in the Wall Street Journal for financial advice, or to PBS for political analysis of which candidate is best. We walk on by all those around, the simple people like ourselves, because we have forgotten that God moves in mysterious ways.

There are too many jokes and short little examples of how humans, in our determination to find God acting as we expect him to act, often miss his finger pointing out our direction.

What could three strangely dressed, strangely speaking men from a far-off land, have to tell me about anything we ask. Yes indeed, what could they have to tell me?

Are we listening?  Are we keeping our eyes open?

Out of the mouths of babes, as the saying goes.

 

Previous Older Entries Next Newer Entries

Blog Stats

  • 46,885 hits
Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 150 other followers