Tuesday, April 24, 2012

The Fourth Sunday of Easter, April 29, 2012

The day after they had arrested Peter and John for teaching about Jesus and the resurrection, the rulers, elders, and scribes assembled in Jerusalem, with Annas the high priest, Caiaphas, John, and Alexander, and all who were of the high-priestly family. When they had made the prisoners stand in their midst, they inquired, "By what power or by what name did you do this?" Then Peter, filled with the Holy Spirit, said to them, "Rulers of the people and elders, if we are questioned today because of a good deed done to someone who was sick and are asked how this man has been healed, let it be known to all of you, and to all the people of Israel, that this man is standing before you in good health by the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, whom you crucified, whom God raised from the dead. This Jesus is


`the stone that was rejected by you, the builders;
it has become the cornerstone.'

There is salvation in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given among mortals by which we must be saved." 
(Acts 4:5-12)

Very quickly, the question becomes one of power. A disabled man has been healed. It should be a source of wonder, or at least happiness. But the high priests and the members of the Sanhedrin do not ask "What does this mean?", they ask "Where did you get the power?" "By whose authority did you do this (because it sure wasn't ours)?"
     We shouldn't judge too harshly: these religious authorities were responsible for the spiritual well being of their community. Naturally they would want to check out anything that was creating such a stir among the people. 
     But are there times when our desire for control blinds us to the work of God? Are there times we have trouble seeing the work of the spirit, when it comes in unexpected forms, or even challenges the ways we have always done things? What do you think?


We know love by this, that he laid down his life for us—and we ought to lay down our lives for one another. How does God’s love abide in anyone who has the world’s goods and sees a brother or sister in need and yet refuses help?
Little children, let us love, not in word or speech, but in truth and action. And by this we will know that we are from the truth and will reassure our hearts before him whenever our hearts condemn us; for God is greater than our hearts, and he knows everything. Beloved, if our hearts do not condemn us, we have boldness before God; and we receive from him whatever we ask, because we obey his commandments and do what pleases him.
And this is his commandment, that we should believe in the name of his Son Jesus Christ and love one another, just as he has commanded us. All who obey his commandments abide in him, and he abides in them. And by this we know that he abides in us, by the Spirit that he has given us.
1 John 3:16-24
John appears to be engaging in the great faith versus works debate that continues to plague church with division today. At the Reformation, the voice of the reformers (Martin Luther, John Calvin) supported the view that our salvation was received by faith alone (sola fides) and that the works—indulgences, requirements of penance, etc.—were not necessary to gain entrance into the Kingdom of Heaven.
Jesus teaches on this subject in a number of different ways. Nicodemus comes and asks Jesus, “What must I do to inherit eternal life?” The Lord taught that God loves the world so much: his only Son would be sacrificed so that who ever believed in him would inherit eternal life. Jesus also gave us the story of the separation of the sheep from the goats: those who called Jesus Lord and served their neighbor were treated differently from those who called Jesus Lord and ignored their neighbor (cf Matt 25). Jesus explains that there are only two commandments: love God and love your neighbor… simple, right?
St. John references Jesus’ teaching on this, and then asks a stark question: How does God’s love abide in anyone who has the world’s goods and sees a brother or sister in need and yet refuses help? John’s question cuts deep. More often then not, I pretend the “tough love” response to someone’s need is adequate. Well, they somehow got themselves into this mess, and they need to learn how to get themselves out… handouts aren’t going to help anybody!
And my practical experience tells me that this is true. People are people. But this is where I must now ask myself, am I willing to put my experience and reason ahead of the teaching of the Gospel? It seems counterintuitive. But at the same time, tough love didn’t work out too well with us. The cycle of the Judges is a testimony to that: people don’t get it and continued walking outside of God’s ways. It took God’s love taking on flesh in the person of Jesus, and the outpouring of his life for us so that we might even have a chance.
John knows the answer is not faith or works, but faith and works. We must let what we believe change how we act. We must let our faith in Jesus to become our works as the body of Christ.
Scott D. Parnell
Director of Youth Ministries



Jesus said, "I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep. The hired hand, who is not the shepherd and does not own the sheep, sees the wolf coming and leaves the sheep and runs away-- and the wolf snatches them and scatters them. The hired hand runs away because a hired hand does not care for the sheep. I am the good shepherd. I know my own and my own know me, just as the Father knows me and I know the Father. And I lay down my life for the sheep. I have other sheep that do not belong to this fold. I must bring them also, and they will listen to my voice. So there will be one flock, one shepherd. For this reason the Father loves me, because I lay down my life in order to take it up again. No one takes it from me, but I lay it down of my own accord. I have power to lay it down, and I have power to take it up again. I have received this command from my Father." (John 10:11-18)


The image of Jesus as the Good Shepherd is one of the most familiar and beloved in all the Gospels, and of course it holds a special place in our hearts at Church of the Good Shepherd. But as with all familiar and beloved symbols, it is important to reflect seriously on its meaning. First, we shouldn't get too romantic about shepherds. Shepherds were not the most respected people in Jesus' day. They were routinely ritually impure, and many were migrant workers, looked down on by people with steadier jobs. I know a parish that commisioned a new nativity scene for their front lawn at Christmas time. The artist took the word 'new' very seriously. Joseph wore an open plaid flannel shirt (known as an 'East Toronto dinner jacket') and construction boots. The wise men from the east were Japanese business men with computers. And the shepherds were... bikers, complete with leathers. There was controversy over the painting, but it wasn't too far wrong.
     Jesus often asks us to see God at work in unexpected people: Samaritans, tax collectors, you name it. He works in unexpected ways as well. Like a shepherd, he is an outsider. He is not quite the messiah people were expecting. And yet he will be the most perfect embodiment of God's love: a disrespected shepherd, who nevertheless lays down his life for the sheep. There is a parallel with our first reading: Jesus will not be contained or restrained by our expectations.  And it raises a similar question: when have you encountered God in someone unexpected? 

Tuesday, April 17, 2012

     When Peter saw the astonishment of those who had seen the lame man healed, he addressed the people, "You Israelites, why do you wonder at this, or stare at us, as though by our own power or piety we had made him walk? The God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob, the God of our ancestors has glorified his servant Jesus, whom you handed over and rejected in the presence of Pilate, though he had decided to release him.  But you rejected the Holy and Righteous One, and asked to have a murderer given to you, and you killed the Author of life, whom God raised from the dead. To this we are witnesses. And by faith in his name, his name itself has made this man strong, whom you see and know; and the faith that is through Jesus has given him this perfect health in the presence of all of you."
     "And now friends, I know that you acted in ignorance, as did also your rulers. In this way God fulfilled what he had foretold through all the prophets, that his Messiah would suffer. Repent therefore and turn to God so that your sins may be wiped out."

Acts 3:12-19 (Our first lesson for Sunday April 22)

     It didn't take long for a crowd to gather. Outside the gate to the Temple, a disabled man asked Peter and John for money. Instead, he is healed in the name of Jesus. Who knows what drew those onlookers. Curiosity? Power, which might be available to them as well? Novelty? The plain fact that other people were interested?
     But notice this: by itself, the healing miracle is just a curiosity, at best, or a source of misplaced adulation of Peter and John, at worst. Its meaning, its power to serve God's purposes, comes from the preaching of Peter. Peter is ready to "tell the story". He's ready to tell the story of Jesus' death and reusrrection, without pulling any punches, but without vindictiveness. He is ready to join the story of Jesus to the story of his hearers. He shows them how the resurrection of Jesus is the big climax of the story that starts with Abraham and Isaac and Jacob. Peter is finally able to see this and say it.
     We are all called to be apostles. How do we equip ourselves to do what Peter did, to tell the story of Jesus, in a way that connects his story to the stories of the people we encounter, and invites them to become part of the story? How might we do our job of apostleship better?  



See what love the Father has given us, that we should be called children of God; and that is what we are. The reason the world does not know us is that it did not know him. Beloved, we are God’s children now; what we will be has not yet been revealed. What we do know is this: when he is revealed, we will be like him, for we will see him as he is. And all who have this hope in him purify themselves, just as he is pure.
Everyone who commits sin is guilty of lawlessness; sin is lawlessness. You know that he was revealed to take away sins, and in him there is no sin. No one who abides in him sins; no one who sins has either seen him or known him. Little children, let no one deceive you. Everyone who does what is right is righteous, just as he is righteous.
1 John 3:1-7 (Our second lesson for Sunday April 22) (with thanks to Mr. Scott Parnell, our esteemed director of youth ministries, who wrote our reflection).
Most of us can’t wait to grow up. With the exception of Peter Pan, almost every child and teenager I talk to cannot wait to grow up. The reasons vary, but it usually falls on the ability to get to do something that they can’t currently do. For the littlest ones, it can be riding a big kid bike, staying up late, or watching a PG-13 movie. For middle and high school students, it is about the responsibility to do things without adult supervision, spurred on by the ability to drive. None of us want to be a child until perhaps we get older and long for the days when the greatest struggle was what you had for your after school snack.
Perhaps, though, this is what St. John is calling us back to. I watch kids and their carefree, unassuming approach to life. They see God in all people and genuinely care for them, not out of requirement, but out of love. I am reminded of Jesus’ words in the Sermon on the Mount (c.f. Matthew 5): “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.”
Adoption as a child by God is an invitation to see the world through God’s eyes. We receive God’s grace: wickedness is put to flight, sin is washed away, innocence is restored to the fallen, and joy is brought to those who mourn. Kids don’t always do what they’re supposed to do, but they always inherit the values of their parents.
Knowing the craziness of all that life throws at us, this invitation to receive God’s adoption and once again become a child is irresistible.
“Create in me a clean heart, Lord God, and renew a right spirit within me.” (Ps. 51:11)

     While the disciples were telling how they had seen Jesus risen form the dead, Jesus himself stood among them and said to them, "Peace be with you." They were startled and terrified, and thought that they were seeing a ghost. He said to them, "Why are you frightened, and why do doubts arise in your hearts? Look at my hands and my feet; see that it is I myself. Touch me and see; for a ghost does not have flesh and bones as you see that I have." And when he had said this, he showed them his hands and his feet. 
     While in their joy they were disbelieving and still wondering, he said to them, "Have you anything here to eat?" They gave him a piece of broiled fish, and he took it and ate it in their presence.
     Then he said to them, "These are my words that I spoke to you while I was still with you  --that everything written about me in the Law of Moses, the prophets, and the psalms must be fulfilled. Then he opened their minds to understand the scriptures, and he said to them. "Thus it is written, that the Messiah is to suffer and to rise from the dead on the third day, and that repentance and forgiveness of sins is to be proclaimed in his name to all nations, beginning from Jerusalem. You are witnesses of these things. 

Luke 24:36-48 (Our gospel reading for Sunday April 22)

     Luke's first point in this gospel story can be summed up in three words: ghosts don't eat. As in the story of Thomas last week, the concern here is to establish the identity of the risen Jesus. And once again the emphasis is on his body. The risen Jesus is not an astral projection, or a disembodied spirit. The risen Jesus is someone you can touch, someone who eats broiled fish. Ghosts don't eat.
     This was important to Luke's readers. Many religions regarded the human body as something inferior, even evil, to be discarded at death. The Jewish outlook, and the resurrection stories, are very different. It is the whole Jesus that is resurrected. Certainly, his body is more than just a physical body (he can get through locked doors), but it is still his body (he has scars on his hands and feet). We recall the words of the Apostles' Creed: we believe in the resurrection of the body. This biblical view of resurrection can be quite challenging. I like to rest in the faith that God will save and resurrect everything that makes me me, just as He raised Jesus. Bishop N.T. Wright writes about this in a very compelling, and pastoral way in his books Surprised by Hope and Simply Christian.
     What does the resurrection of Jesus say about our hope? Is it just an interesting fact about the master, or is he somehow blazing a trail we are to follow? What do you think?

Thursday, April 12, 2012

     Our first reading (Acts 4:32-35) paints an idyllic portrait of the earliest Church: they held all things in common, and no one among the believers suffered from a lack of anything. This radical redistribution of wealth does not seem to be an enforced 'law of the Church', and it had its ups and downs as a general rule: we hear later that some of the widows in the community were not receiving help. But this picture should still present us with a challenge. Christians were bound by a spirit of self giving love, agape, which had a profound effect on the way they lived their lives.
     What ways might we find to express that same spirit in our time, when we seem more and more isolated from one another, when houses are built with big private back yards, but no front porches? Can our Church communities once again offer an alternate vision?


     Our second reading (1 John 1:2-2:2) is a reflection on the reality of sin, even in a post-easter world.   Christians still get sucked into the power of sin, and one of the most insidious effects of sin is self-deception: part of our sinfulness is refusing to take responsiblity for our sin. The way out of this crazy cycle is found in the sacrifice of Christ. In him we see our need for forgiveness. In solidarity with him, we find the forgiveness we need.
    This insight is part of the Twelve Steps process:  the first step in recovery is recognizing you have a problem.  For John, we are all Recovering Sinners.


     The gospel reading for the second Sunday of Easter tells the story of Jesus' encounter with the disciples in the room where they had locked themselves away, in their fear and confusion after the crucifixion.  (John 20:19-31). He breathes on them, and they recieve the Holy Spirit: Jesus quite literally inspires them.  This is also the story of Thomas, often called Doubting Thomas, unfairly in my view.  Thomas does not ask for anything more than the other disciple have received: he needs to know that it is the real Jesus they have seen, and he will know the real Jesus by His scars.  Thomas responds with the most profound and complete profession of faith in the gospels: "My Lord and my God!" 
     Notice that the disciples' encounters with the risen Jesus are both challenging and comforting.  They are challenged to remember the reality of His suffering. They are challenged to leave their locked room and go out into the world. At the same time they are comforted, and empowered, by Jesus words of peace, and His gift of the Spirit.  Perhaps that mix of challenge and comfort is a mark of all genuine encounters with the Risen One, for the first disciples, and for us.

Happy Easter to all, and welcome to the Blog! Comments? Thoughts? Post them up!  We invite you to consider this "Bible Study for people who don't always have time for Bible Study".