Tuesday, April 26, 2011

Practicing Resurrection - April 24, 2011

Practicing Resurrection
Rev. Lee Ann Bryce
Community Christian Church
April 24, 2011

After the sabbath, as the first day of the week was dawning, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went to see the tomb. 2And suddenly there was a great earthquake; for an angel of the Lord, descending from heaven, came and rolled back the stone and sat on it. 3His appearance was like lightning, and his clothing white as snow. 4For fear of him the guards shook and became like dead men. 5But the angel said to the women, ‘Do not be afraid; I know that you are looking for Jesus who was crucified. 6He is not here; for he has been raised, as he said. Come, see the place where he* lay. 7Then go quickly and tell his disciples, “He has been raised from the dead,* and indeed he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him.” This is my message for you.’ 8So they left the tomb quickly with fear and great joy, and ran to tell his disciples. 9Suddenly Jesus met them and said, ‘Greetings!’ And they came to him, took hold of his feet, and worshipped him. 10Then Jesus said to them, ‘Do not be afraid; go and tell my brothers to go to Galilee; there they will see me.’                                                                                                             Matthew 28:1-12

I gotta tell you, I love it when the “Mary’s” run from the tomb and run smack dab into Jesus and he says, “Greetings!”  Top o’ the morning’ to ya ladies!

In our earliest gospel account of the resurrection in Mark, the story has a completely different feeling to it.  For one thing, it’s very brief, the entire Easter narrative in Mark only has 8 verses (over 20 verses in Matthew, and over 50 in Luke and John).  Mark prefers the understated approach.  In fact, nowhere in Mark does the risen Jesus ever appear, to anyone.  After the women find the tomb empty, the angel says, he’s not here, he’ll meet you in Galilee, and then the gospel ends very abruptly with, “So they went out and fled from the tomb, for terror and amazement had seized them and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid.”  (Mark 16:8).  Boom – the end, not just of the story but of the entire gospel of Mark.

Whichever gospel we read, one thing is clear:  Easter is absolutely fundamental to Christianity, as evidenced by all of us here today, not to mention all Christians gathered in churches around the world on this day.   (Preachers love it when the pews are filled!)  Easter is so central to the story of Jesus that, without it, we would never have heard of him.  If Jesus’ story had ended with his crucifixion, he most likely would have been forgotten – just another Jew crucified by the Roman Empire in a bloody century that witnessed thousands of such executions. 

Resurrection is essential.  We believe that Jesus was not defeated in death; that goodness was not defeated in death; that we are not limited by death; that we are not defeated by the powers of the world.  Because of the resurrection we will always have hope.  Always.  Hope for the fullness of God’s kingdom on earth as it is in heaven.  These are the convictions of the faith that brings us all together.  (Or I should say, these are the convictions we either believe or want to believe.) 

But what are the specifics of that resurrection?  What do we mean when we say that?  On one level, the answer seems obvious:  Resurrection means that God raised Jesus.  Yes.  But what does it mean to say this?  Is resurrection about a spectacular miracle – the most spectacular miracle there’s ever been, and thus a testimony to the power of God?  Is resurrection about God demonstrating that Jesus was indeed God’s son – that Jesus was who he said he was?  Is resurrection about the promise of an afterlife – that death has been defeated?  All of these?  Something else entirely? 

In order to explore this question, let’s start by looking back.  What did the resurrection mean to those early followers of Jesus?  Much of the detail is lost to us, of course.  We are left with the stories in the gospels.  As we discussed in the Lenten Sermon Series, the gospels are not historical accounts of this event, nor are they intended to be.  The gospels preserve the memory and testimony of Jesus’ followers at the time.  There are some conclusions we can draw as we consider the gospel accounts, however.  For Jesus’ early followers, that first Easter morning was a transforming experience that convinced them that Jesus had defeated death.  (And most people don’t realize that the ideaof resurrection as the resuscitation of Jesus’ body, that idea comes later in Christian tradition.  It is not evidenced in the stories of Jesus’ followers.  In any event, as a result of the resurrection, the disciples become different people.  In the days before Sunday, the disciples are uncertain followers.  After Sunday, they become heroic evangelists willing to die for their convictions.  Whatever that Easter experience was, they could never again think of God without seeing Jesus as a part of that definition and they could never again think of Jesus without seeing God.  We will never know the details of how the Jesus of their daily lives became the Christ presence of their future, but the gospel accounts are indisputable testimony to the power of the disciples’ transformation.

Trying to determine what the resurrection meant to Jesus’ followers can only take us so far.  It’s an important question only to a point.  Here’s something more important:  so what?  What does the resurrection mean for us?  And by “us” I don’t mean Christians today or even all of us gathered here today.  What does the resurrection mean to you?

While many understand the resurrection to be a miraculous event that happened to Jesus long ago and that will in some distant future be the fate of true believers, as well, for many faithful Christians, a literal interpretation of the resurrection has ceased to have meaning.  What is it that we have in common? 

Perhaps the resurrection can prompt all of us to consider the ways in which we are entombed today.  There are many rocks that keep us blocked in our tombs, whatever they may be.  We may be entombed  by our attitudes, our circumstances, our life choices.  Our lives are littered with metaphorical “rocks,” the rock of disappointment, of insecurity, of poverty, of guilt.  We can be sealed in by the rocks of arrogance, confusion, addiction, or indifference.  Our eyes adjust to the darkness of the tombs we choose.  Almost anything that stands between a person and the transforming presence of the divine can be seen as a stone in need of being rolled away.  And we must roll our stones away if we are to live the abundant life Jesus promised.

Steven Levine, a counselor who works with hospice patients, found that those who had been given a terminal diagnosis often transformed their lives.  Their perspective on life changed, their priorities were re-ordered, and many of the circumstances and choices that had crippled them before their diagnosis evaporated into the new kind of life that came after.  And so Levine set a date for his own death and vowed that he would live as if he would die on that day.  His book, A Year to Live:  How to live this year as if it were your last, is the record of this radical experiment to get a glimpse of that transformation for himself.  In so doing, he gave himself permission to address his unfinished business and enter into a new and vibrant relationship with life.  He gained a new appreciation of the need to live each moment mindfully, as if it were all that was left.

The message of the resurrection is not simply, “Don’t be afraid to die.”  Surely it is that.  And all of us, when we lose someone we love or on our own day of dying will need the comfort of the resurrection.  But I believe the message of Easter is not simply “Don’t be afraid to die,” but “don’t be afraid to live.”  (Dwayne Zimmerman). 

Life is precious.  It is to be shared with generosity.  The resurrection isn’t just limited to the experience of Jesus or to however we understand a life after death.  It’s about passing from death to life here and now.  The message of resurrection and of Easter hope is that we can live fully in this life, giving of ourselves, and risking for love’s sake.  We can help someone who’s hurting.  Feed someone who’s hungry.  Free a captive with the words we use.  Heal a wound.  Give the gift of ourselves – for the gift of who we are was given to us in order to be given away.

The secret to practicing resurrection is in giving who we are and what we have completely, wholly away to something greater than ourselves – in escaping from the circumstances and choices that entomb us and entering into new life here and now.  In life and in death, Jesus modeled this generosity and transformation for followers then and now.  Resurrection is a credible and meaningful principle for living every day.  As we practice resurrection, we, like Jesus, may become more than anyone around us – or even we ourselves – could have imagined.

My friends, Christ is risen!  Christ is risen indeed!



Monday, April 18, 2011

Telling the Story of Jesus: Prophetic Resistance 4/17/11

Telling the Story of Jesus:  Prophetic Resistance
Rev. Lee Ann Bryce
Community Christian Church
April 17, 2011  Palm Sunday

We continue with the Lenten sermon series, Telling the Story of Jesus.  I’m not going to recap the past five sermons.  If you missed any of them, they are included on the church website.  Today’s sermon focuses on the last week of Jesus’ life.  Today we’ll talk about the first part of his week, then at the Maundy Thursday worship, we’ll continue.  The last week of Jesus’ life has come to be known to Christians as Holy Week. 

The location for the final week of Jesus’ life is Jerusalem.  Jerusalem is not just any city.  As we discussed earlier, Jerusalem is the holy city, the home of the temple, the place God had chosen to dwell on earth, the focus of Jewish devotion and the destination of pilgrimage.  And in the first century world, Jerusalem also had a sinister aspect; it had become the center of the Roman domination system. 

And the time period of year for this last week in Jesus’ life is also significant.  It is, of course, Passover, the most important of the annual Jewish festivals.   Hundreds of thousands of pilgrims came to Jerusalem at Passover.   And the Roman Empire prepared for the throngs of people, much like we would today.  If you’re expecting a big influx of out-of-towners, particularly if many in the crowd are unhappy with the status quo, it’s a good idea to beef up your police force in case things get out of hand, right?  It was the Roman practice to reinforce the imperial rule with additional troops at Passover.  And so Passover, not only brought a great number of Jews to the city, but it also prompted a much greater imperial presence.

Somewhere around the year 30 or so, Jesus was one of those who came to Jerusalem for Passover.  And as our gospels tell the story, Jesus’ journey to the holy city was not simply the routine pilgrimage of a good Jew.  Jesus’ journey appears deliberate and intentional. 

The gospels provide a more detailed account of Jesus’ last week than of any other portion of his life.  Today we will look to Mark’s version of events, our earliest gospel, because Mark gives a day-by-day and sometimes an hour-by-hour narrative.  In every single event of Jesus’ last week, we see Jesus’ bold, courageous, and strategic challenge to the domination system.  And he establishes his authority by carefully referencing prophets before him.

SUNDAY
At the beginning of the week, what we now call Palm Sunday, Jesus entered Jerusalem on a young donkey at the head of a procession made up of followers who had come with him from Galilee.  Mark tells us that he approached the city from the east, riding the donkey down the Mount of Olives as his followers cheered and chanted, “Hosanna!   Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord.”

Why did he ride a donkey?  It’s in important question if we are to understand what this act meant.  I’ve heard many answers to this over the years, most of them trivial and easily dismissed.  Was he tired or had he sprained his ankle?  Was it to put him higher so people could see him?  It’s not likely any of these.  Another idea that is not trivial is that riding a donkey was a fulfillment of prophecy, that it was preordained, predicted by prophecy, that it had to happen this way. 

I’m not sure I see it quite like that though it was certainly a prophetic act.  As Mark tells us in the scripture with which we began worship, Jesus’ entry was carefully planned, deliberate.  Jesus set it up in advance.  He enlists two of his followers to get the donkey and bring it to him.  (Mark 11:2-3).  Why was the donkey important?  Take a look at this passage from the prophet Zechariah, written hundreds of years before Jesus lived:
Rejoice greatly, O daughter Zion! Shout aloud, O daughter Jerusalem! Lo, your king comes to you; triumphant and victorious is he, humble and riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey. 10He will cut off the chariot from Ephraim and the war horse from Jerusalem; and the battle bow shall be cut off, and he shall command peace to the nations; his dominion shall be from sea to sea, and from the River to the ends of the earth.
 
Regarding prophecy, sometimes we think, “Wow – all those years before, the prophet Zechariah predicted that Jesus would ride into Jerusalem on a donkey!  How did he know?”  It’s not really like that.  Jesus, himself very familiar with the prophet Zechariah, made sure he rode a donkey into Jerusalem to reinforce the message he wanted to communicate – that he was the kind of king Zechariah spoke of; a king of peace who would banish chariots, warhorses, and bows and arrows, and command peace to the nations.  By riding into Jerusalem on a young donkey, Jesus enacted his message:  the kingdom of God of which he spoke was a kingdom of peace, not violence.  This was another way of establishing himself.

It must have been quite a processional, but guess what?  There were two processionals in Jerusalem.  On or about that same day that Jesus rode into Jerusalem from the east, the Roman governor, Pontius Pilate rode into Jerusalem from the west accompanied by the imperial cavalry and foot soldiers arriving to reinforce the troops.  They did so each year at Passover, coming to Jerusalem from Caesarea Maritima, the city on the Mediterranean coast, the seat from which the Roman governor ruled Judea and Samaria.

“Can you imagine the scene as Pilate’s procession entered the city, this grand show of imperial power.  Weapons, helmets, golden eagles mounted on poles, sun glinting on metal and gold.  The pounding of horse hooves, the clinking of bridles, the marching of feet, the creaking of leather, the beating of drums, the swirling of dust.  The eyes of the silent on-lookers, some curious, some awed, some resentful.”  (Borg, p. 232)

Jesus would have known about Rome’s policy of sending reinforcements to Jerusalem at Passover.  His decision to enter the city as he did was what we would call a planned political demonstration.  What Christians refer to as a triumphal entry was really a peaceful demonstration against Roman rule.  It contrasted the kingdom of God against the kingdom of Rome.  Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem, was intended as a clash with the other Roman military processional.  It was deliberate, strategic, and courageous.  Can you feel the tension mounting?

MONDAY
On the next day, Monday, Jesus performed a second prophetic act.  As Mark tells the story:
Then they came to Jerusalem. And he entered the temple and began to drive out those who were selling and those who were buying in the temple, and he overturned the tables of the money changers and the seats of those who sold doves; 16and he would not allow anyone to carry anything through the temple. 17He was teaching and saying, “Is it not written, ‘My house shall be called a house of prayer for all the nations’?  But you have made it a den of robbers.” 
Mark 11:15-17

Picture a very large open area, perhaps over 20 acres, bordered by columned porticoes.  It was in this temple courtyard that people could purchase animals for sacrifice and get change for paying the temple tax.  This is the activity that Jesus disrupted.  He drove out the sellers and buyers.  And he overturned the tables for changing money.  He didn’t allow anyone to carry anything through the temple.  Considering the size of the temple courtyard, Jesus could only disrupt the activity in a small area.  His disciples might have helped.  From a distance it would have looked like a minor disturbance and lasted a short time – 15 minutes?  30 minutes?  Not surprisingly, this drew a crowd, an audience for Jesus to begin teaching. 

Why did Jesus do this?  Was Jesus throwing a “temple tantrum” surprised by what he saw there?  Or was this commotion a scheme carefully designed to get the crowd’s attention, as was his entrance on Sunday? 

By his actions, was he condemning selling and buying in the temple?  This is a popular interpretation, but it’s not likely to be true.  After all, the buying and selling of animals was a necessary practice for Jewish sacred practice.  Was the issue sacrifice itself?  That God didn’t want animal sacrifice?  Again, not likely, since there’s no indication that Jesus opposed animal sacrifice. 

Mark fills in a motivation for Jesus’ actions.  In v. 17, Jesus was teaching and saying, “Is it not written, ‘My house shall be called a house of prayer for all the nations?’  But you have made it a den of robbers.”

What does he mean by this?  In what sense had the temple become a “den of robbers”?  Again we return to prophecy, this time the prophet Jeremiah, to understand why Jesus did what he did.  In Jeremiah 7, the temple is described as the place from which justice would spring; that the presence of the temple would mean that aliens or orphans or widows would not be oppressed.  If the temple stood for justice, so said Jeremiah, then “I [God] will dwell with you in this place.”  (Jeremiah 7:7).  Then the passage goes on to question, “Has this temple become a den of robbers?”   (There’s that phrase Jesus is quoting.)  This is the term used by Jeremiah to describe a temple that didn’t stand for justice, but had rather come to exploit the most vulnerable in society.  By using this term, Jesus is strongly indicting the temple authorities, saying that they are robbers, in cahoots with the robbers of the Roman imperial authority. 

So now Jesus is really in trouble.  Not only has he challenged the Roman imperial authority, but the religious authorities, too.  The temple authorities decide that Jesus must die.  “And when the chief priests and scribes heart about this, they kept looking for a way to kill him.  But they didn’t do it immediately.  Why?  Read on, “They were afraid of him because the whole crowd was spellbound by his teaching.”  (Mark 11:19)  Can you feel the tension mounting?

TUESDAY
Tuesday is filled with verbal battles between Jesus and the authorities.  It’s a long day in the gospels.  More verses are devoted to Tuesday than to any other day in Jesus’ final week.  There are three episodes that have particular importance.  All take place in the temple, in the presence of the attentive crowd.  By this time, Jesus had a reputation for effectively putting the powerful in their place, and his followers watched closely to see what he would do next.  In each encounter, Jesus succeeds in one-upping the temple authorities. 

In the first encounter, the authorities ask him, “By what authority are you doing these things?” (Mark 11).  They are referring to his anti-imperial entry into Jerusalem and his anti-temple demonstration the day before.  Jesus skillfully engages them in speculation and ultimately evades their question, leaving them looking bad in front of the crowd.

In the second episode (Mark 12:1-12), Jesus tells the parable of the vineyard owner who leases his vineyard to tenants.  Time does not permit us to deal with this interchange with any detail right now.  Suffice to say that this story serves as another indictment of the temple.

The third encounter (Mark 12:13-17) contains a well-known saying of Jesus, “Render unto Caesar the things that are Caesars.”  Jesus is not speaking about civic vs. religious authority.  He’s sparring with them, trying to evade their question.  He is successful.  The pressure builds as the temple authorities keep trying to trap him and Jesus keeps managing to stay one step ahead of them.  Various verbal encounters escalate throughout the day on Tuesday between Jesus and the temple authorities.  Read Mark 11-13 for yourself to see these tense encounters, one after another after another, well over a dozen different arguments in these three chapters that take place on this one day.  The crowd of people watching closely clearly sympathize with Jesus, to the extent that the authorities are afraid to take action against Jesus in their presence.  At the basis of every single encounter is Jesus’ brazen indictment of the powerful and wealthy and his affirmation of the kingdom of God, a place of economic justice.  Can you feel the tension building?

WEDNESDAY
Wednesday begins with the temple authorities continuing to seek a way to arrest Jesus.  They want to do so in private because they fear the crowd, who they perceive to be on Jesus’ side, will incite a riot.  Later that Day, one of Jesus’ disciples, Judas provides the opportunity:
Then Judas Iscariot, who was one of the twelve, went to the chief priests in order to betray him to them. 11When they heard it, they were greatly pleased, and promised to give him money. So he began to look for an opportunity to betray him.  Mark 14:10-11

Judas’ motive for betrayal is ambiguous.  Did he do it for money?  Did the devil make him do it?  In the Gospel of Judas, Jesus commands Judas to make arrangements with the authorities in order to set up Jesus up as a martyr.  Judas is working for Jesus when he does this.  Frankly, we do not know which is correct.  We cannot know.  The end effect is that a close follower of Jesus comes forward to deliver him over for arrest and almost certain execution.  Can you feel the tension building?

We will continue with Jesus’ final days of life, his gathering with the disciples in the upper room, his arrest, and crucifixion, when we gather for Maundy Thursday worship.  We now approach the time in worship where we will offer ourselves to God by sharing our resources and receiving the bread and cup.  To prepare our hearts and to draw on the example of Jesus in his final week on earth, let us join in the responsive prayer found in your bulletin.

ALL:        O God, we stand at the gate, hesitant and uncertain.    
At times we are unwilling to answer your invitation to work for justice;
                                slow to take steps into the journey toward your kingdom,
on earth as it is in heaven.
                Forgive us, we pray.
                Help us to embrace the joy and the pain
                                which comes with following you,
                                with loving others,
                                and with accepting ourselves.
                Grant us the courage to join you in the procession;
                                the selflessness to lay our cloaks before you;
                                the freedom to lift our palms to your glory;
                                and the knowledge that by your grace we are forgiven.
(Moment of silence for personal reflection)
One:      Hear this good news! 
                The procession is ever moving forward.
                We can join at any moment. 
                The invitation still stands!
                Come through the gate on your journey. 
                Do not be afraid – walk with Jesus,
                                in whose name we are made whole.
Many:   Glory to God!  Amen.








Thursday, April 14, 2011

Telling the Story of Jesus: Thy Kingdom Come - 4/10/11

Telling the Story of Jesus:  Thy Kingdom Come
Rev. Lee Ann Bryce
Community Christian Church
April 10, 2011

Today we continue with our Lenten sermon series, “Telling the Story of Jesus.”    We began with considering the primary ways that Jesus is viewed in our culture.  Then we explored the value of seeing the gospels, Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John through a historical-metaphorical lens.  In this way, we understand the gospels not as the divine, infallible Word of God, but rather as memory and testimony of Jesus’ followers in the decades after his death.  The next week we discussed the difference between a pre-Easter Jesus and a post-Easter Jesus.  By pre-Easter Jesus, I mean Jesus before his death; by post-Easter Jesus, what Jesus became after his death.  With this distinction, we understand that the pre-Easter Jesus, the finite, mortal Jesus, likely did not consider himself as the Messiah.  Jesus didn’t talk about himself in this way.  Jesus didn’t come to start a new religion, Christianity.  Jesus was a Jew, whose teaching might well have simply led to a reformation within Judaism.  Christianity as we know it developed gradually over the centuries after Jesus’ death; a movement led by Jesus’ followers in response to their encounters with him.  Last week we addressed the anti-Jewish bias that has been drawn from the gospels by many Christians and the misunderstandings that have led to this false conclusion.  What would Jesus do?  Jesus, a Jew, would never condemn the Judaism he held dear.

With all of this background in place, today we consider the big picture of Jesus.  What was Jesus’ overriding message?  What did he come to say?

It might surprise you to know that there is almost universal agreement among biblical scholars about what Jesus’ message was.  These folks don’t agree on much, but they tend to agree on this.  Scholar Paul Reumann writes:
Ask any hundred New Testament scholars around the world, Protestant, Catholic or non-Christian, what the central message of Jesus was, and the vast majority of them – perhaps every single expert – would agree that his message centered in the kingdom of God.  (Jesus in the Church’s Gospels, p. 142.) 

This is consistent with gospel of Mark, our earliest gospel.  In Mark 1, right after Jesus emerges from his 40 days of temptation in the wilderness and he launches his ministry, Jesus proclaims, “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent and believe in the good news” (1:15).  This is a summary statement of almost everything Jesus talked about. 

What did Jesus’ message about the kingdom of God, its coming, and its nearness mean?  How and when did he think the kingdom would come?  What did his followers understand him to mean?  What a surprise - scholars are no longer unanimous in their answers to these questions, though there is some general agreement on a few points. 

First, the kingdom of God is not about heaven.  Jesus was not talking about an afterlife.  Rather Jesus was talking about a kingdom of God on earth, “on earth as it is in heaven.”  (Does that sound familiar?)  Jesus proclaimed a transformed world, a world of justice and plenty and peace; a world where everybody has enough.  Jesus preached about a safe, just world reminiscent of the prophet Micah when he said, “And no one shall make them afraid” (Micah 4:4). 

What would it be like to have a world where no one intimidated, or threatened, or bullied another?   Jesus message was about the kingdom of God on earth.  As theologian John Dominic Crossan says, “Heaven’s in great shape.  Earth is where the problems are.” 

Second, the term “kingdom” is a political and religious term.  In the first century, people understood kingdom a bit differently than we do now.    We don’t use the word “kingdom” much anymore.  Jesus’ hearers knew about the kingdom of Rome (the word Rome used for what we might call Rome’s empire.)  Jesus’ kingdom referred to a political order.  Not the “kingdom of Rome” but “the kingdom of God.”  Instead of saying the kingdom of God, Jesus could have spoken about the community of God, or the family of God, or the people of God.  But he didn’t.  Instead he spoke about the kingdom.  The usage had to be deliberate, intended to contrast the kingdom of God with the kingdoms of this world.

And he spoke of the kingdom of God.  It’s not just about politics, but is the way the world would be if God were king, and the kings and domination systems of this world were not.  The kingdom of God is God’s dream, God’s passion, God’s will, God’s promise, God’s intention for the earth, God’s utopia – the blessed place, the ideal state of affairs.  As the Beatitudes in both Luke and Matthew affirm, the kingdom of God is good news for the poor and bad news for the wealthy and powerful.  Jesus spoke of God’s kingdom as a place where things are reversed from the way they are now.  No wonder the common people, the people at the bottom rejoiced in Jesus’ message.  No wonder the powerful people at the top plotted to silence him.

Jesus message then was about the kingdom of God on earth as it is in heaven.  What is God’s kingdom like?  What did Jesus have in mind?  For one thing, this is a kingdom of economic justice.  Not everyone gets the same, but everybody has enough.  And this doesn’t happen as the result of charity, but as the natural product of just systems where everyone naturally has enough.  This is kingdom where there is no need of soup kitchens or homeless shelters because everyone has food and shelter without depending on the charity of others.  Nations do not war against other nations, nor do individuals enact violence on one another..  There is work for those who can work.  God’s kingdom is a world very different from the domination systems, large and small, ancient and modern, that characterize our world. 

The kingdom of God.  Sounds great, doesn’t it?  It also sounds impossible.  And Jesus expected this kind of world, this kingdom of God, on earth?  Was he crazy?  How can such a pie-in-the-sky idea be compelling at all to us?  Why dream an impossible dream?

Rheinhold Niebuhr spoke of this gap between reality and the vision of God’s kingdom on earth, affirming the power and the importance of this ideal.  He referred to “the political relevance of an impossible idea.”  We strive to approximate an ideal though we fall short.  The ideal itself is far from irrelevant.  Jesus’ vision of the kingdom of God is something we strive for.

How did Jesus inspire those around him with his crazy vision of God’s kingdom come on earth as it is in heaven?   How did he communicate his message?  According to all of the gospels, Jesus spent a lot of time performing miracles.  (The word miracle might be more accurately translated as “mighty deeds” or “deeds of power.”)  Whether these were supernatural events or events not fully understood in a pre-scientific age is not clear.  Most of these were healings and exorcisms.  As his reputation increased, Jesus began to attract crowds.  “His fame spread…and great crowds followed him” (Matt. 4:24-25).  “And he told his disciples to have a boat ready for him because of the crowd, so that they would not crush him; for he had healed many, so that all who had diseases pressed upon him to touch him” (Mark 3:9-10).  Indeed it was probably his reputation as a healer and exorcist that generated an audience for him as a teacher.

As the progression of gospels are written in the decades after Jesus death (remember Mark came first, then Matthew and Luke, and John was last) more importance was placed on Jesus’ teaching. More teaching texts are included in Matthew and Luke, than in Mark.  So this image of Jesus as teacher became more and more important to the early church.)  And Jesus must have been something else.  (And in this congregation of so many teachers, we can appreciate that!)  We’ve talked about his overall message, but how did he teach so effectively?  Generally speaking, he used two teaching methods:  storytelling (parables) and short, memorable sayings (aphorisms or “one-liners”).  At times he would refer to Hebrew scriptures, but he didn’t make extended commentary on it.  He didn’t teach Bible studies.  Nor did he use the form of speech usually used by prophets:  “Thus says the Lord,” to introduce his teaching.  When he did make a big speech, such as the Sermon on the Mount, it’s usually made up of short, memorable snippets that have been collected.

His parables were made-up stories, fictional narratives.  Some of these are very short, “The kingdom of God is like yeast that a woman took and mixed in with three measures of flour until all of it was leavened,” (Matt. 13:33).  Some are lengthy, fully-developed stories, such as The Prodigal Son or The Good Samaritan.  Parables work because they are good stories and the audience is drawn in, then the story take some surprising turn that leaves everyone thinking, “What????”  The meaning of Jesus’ parables isn’t clear.  They weren’t clear to those who heard them and they’re not clear to us.  Rather the listener, then and now, must identify for him or herself the truth they contain.  Parables are designed to draw people into conversation.  You get the idea that the conversation that follows is the mark of an effective parable, not the story itself.  Jesus parables would have been repeated numerous times, as he traveled and taught.

And Jesus was terrific with a one-liner. 
·         “You cannot serve God and wealth” (Matt. 6:24). 
·         “Consider the lilies of the field” (Matt. 6:28). 
·         “Blessed are the poor for yours is the kingdom of heaven” (Luke 6:20)
·         “Leave the dead to bury the dead” (Matt. 8:22)
·         “The Sabbath was made for humankind, not humankind for the Sabbath” (Mark 2:27)
These weren’t proverbs.  We use proverbs to express folk wisdom or universal truths, something everybody knows or should now.  Jesus’ aphorisms were different.  They expressed a fresh insight and often overturned conventional wisdom.  Like parables, they are surprising, arresting, and thought-provoking.

I’ll mention one more teaching practice that employed by Jesus – eating together.  Meals, not ritual meals, but the simple sharing of food and drink in company was one of the central ways that Jesus expressed his message.  He shared meals with surprising people, he offered memorable teaching at meals, he taught about meals, he performed healings at meals, he celebrated healings at meals, he referred to conflicts that happened around meals.  (You gotta love a guy who ate his way through 4 gospels!)  In his day, sharing a meal was a form of social inclusion and refusing to share a meal, a form of social exclusion.  I suppose it’s still that way today to some extent.  The radical equality Jesus demonstrated by eating with surprising companions upset people.  It was not considered charming and sweet.  It often created intense conflict and strong condemnation:
·         “Why does he eat and drink with tax collectors and sinners?” (Mark 2:16)
·         “He has gone to be the guest of one who is a sinner!” (Luke 19:7)
·         “This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them!” (Luke 15:2)

Eating with sinners.  Telling stories with surprising twists.  One-liners that ridiculed the mighty and lifted up the humble.  These are the primary ways that Jesus communicated his vision of the kingdom of God on earth as it is in heaven.  It also led to Jesus becoming the target of the powerful.  Next week is Palm Sunday and we’ll continue our series by considering what the last week of Jesus’ life might have been like.






I am indebted to Marcus Borg for his lectures at the Canandaigua UCC church I attended last September, as well as Borg’s book, Jesus:  Uncovering the Life, Teachings, and Relevance of a Religious Revolutionary, (HarperSanFrancisco, 2006) as a resource for this Lenten sermon series,  Telling the Story of Jesus.

Monday, April 4, 2011

Telling the Story of Jesus: the Misunderstood Jew - 4/3/11

Telling the Story of Jesus:  The Misunderstood Jew
Rev. Lee Ann Bryce
Community Christian Church
April 3, 2011

Today we continue with our Lenten sermon series, “Telling the Story of Jesus.”    We began with considering the primary ways that Jesus is viewed in our culture.  Then we explored the value of seeing the gospels, Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John through a historical-metaphorical lens.  If we understand the gospels not as the divine, infallible Word of God, but rather as memory and testimony of Jesus’ followers in the decades after his life then it impacts how we understand and tell Jesus’ story.  Last week we discussed the difference between a pre-Easter Jesus and a post-Easter Jesus.  By pre-Easter Jesus, I mean Jesus before his death; by post-Easter Jesus, what Jesus became after his death.  With this distinction, we understand that the pre-Easter Jesus, the finite, mortal Jesus, likely did not consider himself as the Messiah, King of Kings, Lord of Lords, Divine Savior of the World.  Jesus didn’t talk about himself in this way.  He likely did not think that a primary purpose of his life was to die on the cross for the sins of humanity.  Jesus didn’t come to start a new religion, Christianity.  Jesus was a Jew, whose teaching might well have simply led to a reformation within Judaism.  Christianity as we know it developed gradually over the centuries after Jesus’ death; a movement led by those who had found in this first century peasant, Jesus, spiritual food that fed their hunger, light that banished their darkness.  We concluded last week with considering a bit of Jesus’ context, his culture.  Jesus grew up in a small Jewish, peasant village in the oppressive Roman Empire.  Jesus was a Jewish peasant whose message would liberate other peasants and would challenge the ruling elite.  Today our focus is on another factor that fundamentally shaped Jesus, his religious and cultural identity as a Jew.

It is possible to read the gospels, in fact passages throughout the New Testament, as being anti-Jewish.  In fact, in the history of Christianity this has often been the general feeling among many Christians and, I might add, continues to be so today.  We need look no further than Mel Gibson’s The Passion of Christ.  In that film, “the Jews” are clearly depicted as the bad guys, responsible for Jesus’ death.  Unfortunately, Gibson is not alone in drawing this interpretation from the gospels and an anti-Jewish bias is particularly found in the Gospel of John, from which we draw our text today.  If we are going to tell the story of Jesus who was deeply shaped by the Judaism he held dear, we must start with addressing this bias.

Earlier in worship we read John’s story of the blind man whom Jesus healed.  We’re going to return to John chapter 9 and hear the rest of the story.  A brief warning, it is passages like this that have often been read to support an anti-Jewish bias. 
They brought to the Pharisees the man who had formerly been blind. 14Now it was a Sabbath day when Jesus made the mud and opened his eyes. 15Then the Pharisees also began to ask him how he had received his sight. He said to them, ‘He put mud on my eyes. Then I washed, and now I see.’ 16Some of the Pharisees said, ‘This man is not from God, for he does not observe the Sabbath.’ But others said, ‘How can a man who is a sinner perform such signs?’ And they were divided. 17So they said again to the blind man, ‘What do you say about him? It was your eyes he opened.’ He said, ‘He is a prophet.’
18
The Jews did not believe that he had been blind and had received his sight until they called the parents of the man who had received his sight 19and asked them, ‘Is this your son, who you say was born blind? How then does he now see?’ 20His parents answered, ‘We know that this is our son, and that he was born blind; 21but we do not know how it is that now he sees, nor do we know who opened his eyes. Ask him; he is of age. He will speak for himself.’ 22His parents said this because they were afraid of the Jews; for the Jews had already agreed that anyone who confessed Jesus* to be the Messiah* would be put out of the synagogue. 23Therefore his parents said, ‘He is of age; ask him.’
24
So for the second time they called the man who had been blind, and they said to him, ‘Give glory to God! We know that this man is a sinner.’ 25He answered, ‘I do not know whether he is a sinner. One thing I do know, that though I was blind, now I see.’ 26They said to him, ‘What did he do to you? How did he open your eyes?’ 27He answered them, ‘I have told you already, and you would not listen. Why do you want to hear it again? Do you also want to become his disciples?’ 28Then they reviled him, saying, ‘You are his disciple, but we are disciples of Moses. 29We know that God has spoken to Moses, but as for this man, we do not know where he comes from.’ 30The man answered, ‘Here is an astonishing thing! You do not know where he comes from, and yet he opened my eyes. 31We know that God does not listen to sinners, but he does listen to one who worships God and obeys God’s will. 32Never since the world began has it been heard that anyone opened the eyes of a person born blind. 33If this man were not from God, he could do nothing.’ 34They answered him, ‘You were born entirely in sins, and are you trying to teach us?’ And they drove him out.

Seems clear, doesn’t it?  Jesus, blind man = good guys; “The Jews,” judgmental, legalistic, bad guys.  On the surface, this conclusion can be drawn, however, to do so is, at best, inaccurate and ignorant.  At worst, it is offensive.  First of all, remember that all parties involved in this story are themselves Jews, Jesus, the blind man and his parents, the Pharisees.  Thus, the blind man, with his newly found sight who proclaims Jesus a prophet, is a Jew.  His parents, with their reluctance to take a stand, Jews, all fellow Jews right along with the Pharisees.  And the one responsible for all this, Jesus, a Jew.  This story, therefore, describes a conflict within Judaism, and at its basis is a question of who exactly are “true” Jews; who are the “disciples of Moses.” 
Think of it as family quarrel.  A conflict over who was rightly following the precepts of Judaism.  This is not a sweeping condemnation of the Judaic faith – far from it.  The question is over Jewish law: in pursuit of faithfulness, could one become so slavishly devoted to the letter of law that it actually obscured the point of the law?  I understand from my friends who are Jewish that these questions continue to be disputed today within Judaism.  Within the Jewish faith can be found a wide and diverse spectrum of understandings, much like can be found within Christianity.  And so in passages such as we’ve read today need might be said that some Jews are disagreeing with other Jews.  It is not accurately  interpreted as a condemnation of Judaism.  These are Jews, including Jesus, trying to understand how to be faithful. 
As we’ve discussed, Christianity was a developing tradition at the time the gospel of John was written.  It took many years for those Jews who were followers of Christ, to separate from Judaism.  And so in the decades after Jesus’ death, we have this blurring as followers of Jesus become primarily identified as Christians, not Jews. Sometimes Christians wonder “what would Jesus do?”  I think it’s safe to say one thing he would not do – condemn Judaism.  To do so would have been to condemn the faith he practiced and held dear. 
Let’s move to how Judaism might have shaped Jesus.  Jesus grew up in Nazareth, a Jewish peasant village.  Most likely no Gentiles would have lived there.  And so Jesus was socialized into a Jewish social world.  Its vision of life was very different from the domination system of Rome that we discussed last week.  The beloved sacred traditions of Judaism included its sacred scriptures and stories, worship and festivals, prayers, practices, and observances.  Its foundations were practice, the Jewish Bible, and the temple in Jerusalem.
Judaism has often been described as a religion of practice and so it was at the time of Jesus.  To be a Jew meant to live as a Jew.  This meant observing the Torah, Jewish law, which was considered not a burden, but a gift from God to the people.  The law was a manifestation of the conviction that God had chosen Israel and that Israel had agreed to live in accord with God’s covenant. 
Twice a day, in accord with Jewish practice, Jesus would have recited or chanted the Shema, the central conviction of Israel :
Hear, O Israel:  the Lord is our God, the Lord is one.  You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your might.  Keep these words that I am commanding you today in your heart.  Recite them to your children and talk about them when you are at home and when you are away, when you lie down and when you rise.  Bind them as a sign on your hand, fix them as an emblem on your forehead, and write them down on the doorposts of your house and on your gates.  (Deut. 6:4-9)

One day a week was the Sabbath.  On this day, activities that could be considered “work” were prohibited.  Again, this condition was not burdensome.  Instead, the Sabbath was the most festive day of the week:  free from labor, it was a time for eating, lovemaking, gathering community for prayer and worship, and leisure. 

Festivals were also part of Jesus’ practice.  A major festival was Passover, which recalled the exodus from Egypt.  The Christian sacrament of communion, the Last Supper, was born when Jesus and his disciples were in Jerusalem sharing in a Passover Seder.  (Come to our Seder in a few weeks and you’ll learn more about this.)   

In addition to these practices, Jesus was shaped by the Jewish Bible.  He didn’t have the Old Testament, as it is known to Christians now but he would have had parts of it.  He would have had the Torah, the first five books of the Bible (Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Deuteronomy, Numbers).  The prophets, such as Isaiah and Jeremiah were also in use.  The New Testament refers to “the law and the prophets,” to describe Jesus’ Bible.  The remainder of the Old Testament was not crystalized yet in final form; that took place after Jesus, though certain parts, such as the Psalms, were widely used in Jesus’ day. 

The last thing I want to mention today is the critical importance of Jerusalem to first century Jews.  Solomon’s temple was considered to be the dwelling place of God on earth.  To be in the Temple was to be in God’s presence on earth.  And so the Temple was the center of Jewish devotion, the destination of pilgrimage.  As such, the Temple was the one and only place where sacrifices were made.  Moreover, Jerusalem was the place where, one day, Jews believed God’s promise and the hope of Israel would be fulfilled.  From Jerusalem, one day, God’s ideal king, a king like David would rule over a restored Israel, delivered from Roman occupation.

Next week we’ll talk more about how Jesus’ life unfolded among this violent tension between Israel and Rome and these expectations that God would send a triumphant messiah to deliver them.  In respect and honor for the Judaism that Jesus held dear, I’d like to ask Rabbi Jennifer Gravitz to come forward and offer a blessing.