John 20-Acts 4This is THE story that we turn to every Easter, the one we will read in just a few weeks. It is the one that we cling to! So when I heard Jesus' words to Mary, I wondered how much we cling to the stories we know, that we love. I know that as we have gone through the gospels I have found myself resisting letting go of MY Jesus. And yet, here he is saying that we can't hold on--not if Jesus is to continue to grow in our lives, to be the Christ that we need him to be.
Got me to thinking of what other ideas I cling to? Hmmmmm.
We then have that wonderful story of Faithful Thomas (I am trying to redeem his reputation--after all, he was the one who convinced the other disciples to follow Jesus to Jerusalem!) He had some questions, and Jesus gave him the answers he needed. And then Jesus responds to Thomas by saying, "Have you believed because you have seen me..."
So why have I believed? Why do I believe? Why do you believe? Another one of those questions that I often just take for granted. We don't ask the question. But one day it arises--even out of scripture? Why do you believe? Not what, but why?
One of the final scenes in John's story is Jesus fixing breakfast for the disciples. They have been out fishing all night, haven't caught anything but with Jesus advice pull in a great catch of fish (153 to be exact.) When they come ashore Jesus has fish and bread cooking on the fire but says, "bring some of the fish you have caught." Why? Why does Jesus need their fish? Has he forgotten about what he can do with some fish and bread?
Or could it be that Jesus needs their contribution? Does Jesus know we need to make a contribution--to the meal, to the kingdom? What is it that I have to contribute?
And note that there isn't any ascension in John. The story just ends with the acknowledgment that there are a lot more stories about Jesus that don't make this book--or even THE book. What do we do with them? John's story is different from Luke's which is different from Mark which is different from Matthew. What do we do with those that are even more different--so different that they didn't make the Bible? These have been so thought provoking that I am glad we aren't reading any more--I don't know if my heart and mind could take it!
And with that we change books! We change authors, stories, voices even. We pick up with Acts--or Luke Volume II as I like to call it. We hear the story of the ascension (again in a different locale than Matthew. Here it is outside Jerusalem; Matthew puts it in Galilee. Why?) We have the story of Pentecost and the wonders of that day. We often get caught up in the story of the tongues of fire and the speaking (or hearing) in tongues, but what caught me this morning was what happened to turn these fearful disciples who were hiding out to street corner preachers? What happened to them?
And in return, what has happened to us, to make us move the other direction--terrified to speak a word for or about Jesus and God? And how have we neutered Jesus to the point that some even pontificate that if you should leave a church that talks about "social gospel" and caring for the poor! Is this how much we have profaned the message of Christ? (But that is for another day!)
Peter and John are going to the temple, still practicing their faith when they are confronted with a man who was lame. He is begging, asking for money. I love the response Peter gives. "We don't have any money, but we will give you what we have." It isn't a denial of assistance, but rather they offer what they have.
What is it that we have to offer our world? Anything at all? Is it just financial--a question I often wonder, especially when our church is located in an affluent part of town? Does ministry flow down the economic hill, or do we have anything to offer people who aren't begging? What do we have to offer?
As the story moves from Jesus to the church, that is the question before us--as the church, and as individuals. I look forward to your contributions to the discussion!
2 comments:
This is the second resurrection account where we have people failing to recognize Jesus afterwards. What was it that was the same yet different about him once he returned? Mary didn't know him until he said her name. The men on the Emmaus road didn't know him until he broke bread with them.
You're so right that we can't know all that Jesus is and can grow to be until we stop clinging to him, our version of him. But it is hard to let go!
Throughout all of these stories, I have the voice of my late friend and professor Dr. Goodman in my ear. Sometimes it's from memory, and other times because I am listening to his New Testament Studies lectures on my iPod. I remember him pointing out that Peter warmed himself at a charcoal fire when he denied Jesus, and that it was to a charcoal fire that the resurrected Jesus invited him on the beach. Those are the only two times that specific type of fire is mentioned in the New Testament. He told us that when we were standing on the shore of the Sea of Galilee, at the church marking the spot where that conversation (traditionally) took place. And I thought about the smell of charcoal, and how smell triggers memory, and wondered what must have been going through Peter's head when he swam ashore and that smell hit him. All the fear, guilt, shame, disappointment, uncertainty of that night probably came rushing back with one whiff. It seems almost cruel for Jesus to remind him this way, and then to ask him three times "Do you love me?" But of course, Jesus knows what he's doing, duh. He seems to be saying, "Okay, three denials, now three affirmations. Clean slate. You don't have time to wallow in the past. I've got work for you to do." And when Peter smelled burning charcoal anytime after that, I'll bet a whole different set of emotions welled up in him.
That's why I think we get a whole different Peter in Acts! It struck me even more hearing it instead of reading it, how completely transformed he is! Where's the guy who was always asking questions, always speaking before he thought, always sticking his foot in his mouth? Instead, we have this bold, confident, completely self-assured preacher and leader, who gives long speeches a lot like Jesus used to do. Pretty cool.
My comment was too long and I had to break it into two parts. Sorry.
Another thing that hit me was when the apostles were praying about who should take Judas's place. When I heard Peter say, "Lord . . ." I was so used to hearing him say that when he talked directly to Jesus. How hard it must have been for them to go from asking Jesus face to face about what God would have them do, to having to pray for answers and wait just like the rest of us. But then, that's not exactly what they did. They basically drew straws. Isn't that cheating?
Hearing the description of the early church, I had to laugh. All I could think was, "Yep, here's a church that would have Glenn Beck crying, 'Socialism!'"
Your questions are good ones about what we have to offer. It's so easy for us to think that it's solely financial. That's what we're used to. But we do have a lot to offer, regardless of money, and I forget that a lot. My CPE supervisor used to call me out for downplaying what I offer as a chaplain. "Well, I just wanted to come and be with you," I would say to someone in the midst of a crisis, or "Could I just pray with you?" He would remind me that my presence and prayers and caring for someone in a time when that's exactly what they needed counted for a lot, but by saying that I was "just" doing that, I made it sound like very little. I hear us do it in the church, too, like when we say, "I wish I could do something to help, but all I can do is pray." At times of difficulty, which come to all of us regardless of our economic circumstances, what we need is someone to care enough to come alongside us, remind us of God's love, acknowledge our pain, and be present with us. I think that even if Peter hadn't healed the crippled man, he would've helped him simply by talking to him and looking at him, when most people probably walked by without ever treating him like a fellow human being. I have to admit that my perspective is very biased in all this by my love of what I do as a chaplain! I would have to think harder about what we have to offer people when they're not in crisis.
It's going to be strange transitioning from the gospels to all that comes after them. I think I will miss Jesus.
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