Saturday, February 17, 2007

The Plot to Kill Jesus

Ash Wednesday is upon us and we are about to begin the Lenten season. How meaningful it is that we are reading the Gospels and being stretched each day as we prepare for lent. Today’s reading in Mark (Mark 2:13- 3:6) covers, in a thumbnail sketch: Jesus calling Levi (Matthew), the hated tax collector, to become a disciple; His walk through a field where He and His disciples pick some grain and eat it on a Sabbath; His lack of fasting when other religious persons were fasting; and finally the time when Jesus stands in a synagogue on the Sabbath and heals a mans disabled hand.

There is a theme here that clearly is being developed and it is partially that Christ has come to shake things up. Men’s thinking about rules to live by, are being challenged by Jesus’ behavior. In each of the scenes from the text of Mark, there are two common elements. First, Jesus defies what is considered standard practices of the faithful or what is even considered socially acceptable. Second, and most important, Jesus is being followed and observed by the Pharisees.

Let’s look at that first point. He sits with sinners and speaks with them and even befriends and calls one of them to follow him in his ministry. Shocking news for the times. He does irritating things like picking and eating grain on a Sabbath. Not allowed. The Pharisees eyebrows are raised because while they fast for religious reasons, and even the odd preacher ‘John the Baptist’ and his followers are fasting, Jesus and his band of men are not. The Pharisees are perplexed. We can hear their minds turning as they begin to churn with the puzzlement that grows into anger and outrage: “who does this guy think he is?”

Jesus is in the place of worship—the synagogue. What does He do here? He has the audacity to question whether one should help another on the day called the Sabbath? Marks words are short and taciturn. We do not get embellishments. Therefore, you have to read carefully and between the lines as we see Jesus in this moment standing there with this man with an obvious deformity and we must assume that he has asked Jesus to heal him. He must have been witness to other healings that Christ had performed. Once again the Pharisees, the elders, the religious stakeholders are aghast. “He really is not going to do something like this on the Sabbath?’ Their thinking appears ‘turned around’ by their reaction. You would assume that they should be more overwhelmed to see that this man named Jesus, can simply heal a deformity like that – with the snap of his fingers. Who can or could do such stuff? This was not the norm in those times any more then it would be now. But what are they all bent out of shape about? It is about when he chooses to heal this man, not that he is able to.

Jesus looks around at the group of men in the Synagogue and asks a pointed question: is it better to do good or evil? No one, not one, answers. They stand like stones. Notice the words almost hidden between the lines of Mark: “He looked around at them in anger and, deeply distressed at their stubborn hearts.” How often have we been given the idea that Jesus only showed anger at the tables of money changers in the temple? That is the common thinking. Jesus was Mr. Rogers. Not so. He is filled with distress here and almost in a “I’ll show you,” He heals the mans hand.

The reaction to Christ’s miracle before the eyes of these men leads us directly into the second and most important point. The Pharisees have been following and observing Jesus. Their reaction is not of wonder, shock, amazement or a slight realization of who this guy could be but instead it is outrage, anger and the actual plot begins here to kill Christ. It is interesting to me that in the latter parts of each Gospel, there is a place which has a subtitle that says “the plot to kill Jesus.” We tend to see this as the actual plot being shaped. Yet, it clearly begins early in his ministry. He is being followed, observed and plotted against right from the moment He began to teach and collect disciples. Every move was suspect. Every action was under scrutiny. Again and again, there are times in the Gospels, where it is mentioned that Jesus could have been overcome by marauding gangs of men who disliked what he was doing.

However, again and again, it also says “His time had not yet come.” While the Pharisees thought that they were in control of men and how they were to live, they had no control over anything at all. They lived in blindness, wrapped up in rules and unable to become awestruck by a miracle they witnessed. Their minds are like arrows directed at one thing: Jesus must be stopped. Even as they begin their plot against Christ, they have no conscious understanding that this is God’s Son. Jesus is being saved for the cross which sounds like an oxymoron. But it is the truth. He is being groomed for the end--- and the new beginning that God had in mind for all mankind.


Laurie Erdman

Friday, February 16, 2007

Able and Willing

Friday, February 16th - Mark 1:29 - 2:12

As I read through the Scripures today, several things jumped out at me. First, I'm amazed by the pace of Jesus' life. In a time, when people walked everywhere and only worked during the day, his life was packed full. Second, if we ever need a reminder that Jesus is able - able to fulfill his promises to us, able to minister to us in our moments of need - we need only to turn to this not-so-subtle reminder that Jesus can handle the obstacles that wear us down. Clearly Jesus can bring us through anything. Third, Jesus came to preach; his goal was to teach and transform people. Fourth, Jesus' priority was bringing forgiveness of sins. Jesus healed the paralytic, but it was proof that he had the power and authority to forgive sins. He demonstrates that our most urgent need is to deal with sin, and he proves he is able by doing something we can see that is nothing short of miraculous.

But, as much as I'm intrigued by each of these events, I am most struck by Jesus' interaction with the leper in 1:40-42 and following. (I feel like someone else addressed this while we were in Matthew, but it feels fresh to me again this morning.) Amid the crowds of people asking for Jesus to help them, a leper comes to Jesus with his request. Just coming up to Jesus, from what I understand, was an act of faith. Lepers weren't typically allowed to mingle with crowds of people. They weren't accepted by anyone. Their disease was terrifying and painful. But this man dared to withstand the ridicule, the stern looks, and the nasty words from other people to come face to face with Jesus.

"If you are willing, you can heal me and make me clean," the man says to Jesus. He's seen that Jesus is clearly able. He's heard the stories, and he may have watched (from a distance) as the crowds followed Jesus from miracle to miracle. He didn't doubt Jesus' power to heal, but he did wonder if Jesus was willing. Was his disease too disgusting for Jesus? Would Jesus consider him more worthy of his attention and concern than the crowds of people did?

And Jesus, moved with compassion, answered, "I am willing. Be healed!" But the most powerful thing for me is that Jesus touched him. This man was untouchable, literally. It was risky and offensive to think about touching him. But Jesus, moved with compassion, blessed him by touching him!

One of the powerful things about reading the New Testament straight through and getting to start learning about Jesus' ministry all over again, is that we get to see these miracles in light of the powerful moments we just experienced at the cross and the empty tomb. We've just seen that we are the leper. Our sin separates us from God, like this man's disease separated him from society. By our sin, we were in the crowd, calling for Jesus' crucifixion. Jesus has the power to forgive us, but would he be willing to forgive and heal someone who's so offensive? Yet, Jesus, moved with compassion, is the leper, too. He touched the leper, identifying himself with the leper and making him just as risky and offensive to the crowd as the man with the disease. Jesus was mocked and rejected by society as he identified with us. He is able to forgive sins, and he is willing. We are the leper, and Jesus became a leper for us.

We have nothing to fear as we approach Jesus and ask that he remove what is offensive in us. He has the power to do it, and his compassion for us is nothing short of miraculous!

Thursday, February 15, 2007

Already But Not Yet

I must confess a bit of hesitation as we begin the book of Mark today.  Having just suffered through the crucifixion and celebrated Easter morning, I find the 'rewind' button has been hit, and I'm back at the beginning.  Trying not to feel the connection to the Bill Murray movie "Groundhog Day", I need to pray:
 
Lord Jesus, your Word is living and active, piercing and true.  There is nothing stale nor repetitive in your Word, for you have given all of it for our good.  As we begin reading the gospel of Mark, will you make it fresh and new?  Draw our hearts and minds to truths we missed in Matthew because you were saving them for us to learn now.  Slow us down if  we are tempted to skim over what feels familiar and remind us that we have only just begun to understand your marvelous ways.  Amen.
 
I like the Gospel of Mark.  I always have.  I like it because it is written in a way similar to how I  read suspenseful novels - sometimes skipping over the character development and background material in order to focus on the plot.  John Mark, cousin to Barnabas and companion of both Peter and Paul,  wrote what most believe is the earliest gospel in a succinct, almost breathless fashion.  Mark skips the nativity and Jesus' childhood, and He is already baptized by John by verse 9.  I sense an urgency in Mark, for he has Good News to share.
 
The part of the narrative that struck me today was Jesus' announcement that "The kingdom of God is near!"  The New Testament is full of references to the kingdom of God, but I do not believe that phrase appears in the Old Testament at all.  Certainly the idea of God's kingdom is prevalent throughout the OT, where Psalm 29:10 says "The Lord is enthroned as king forever".  But when the Jews heard Jesus' words about the kingdom, what would they have been thinking?
 
The Jews of Jesus' day, not unlike some Christians today, believed that they were living at the end of "this age" and at the beginning of "the age to come".  They were eagerly awaiting the Messiah who would usher in a period of justice and tranquility, and would vanquish their enemies.  When they heard "The kingdom is near" they probably thought, "Oh boy, this is going to be good".
 
When the disciples dropped everything to follow Jesus, they clearly had no idea what kind of kingdom He was announcing.    Were they thinking, "I can't wait to have a front row seat for the big show?"  Certainly they knew nothing about the new kind of kingdom that Jesus proclaimed. 
 
I once read that the key to understanding Jesus' ministry is grasping the tension between already  and not yet.  Jesus has already come, announcing the Good News (actually the Best News) of forgiveness and restoration and new life in Christ.  But, He has not yet fully ushered in His future kingdom - the time of God's rule on earth.  So, as believers, we live in the balance between already and not yet.
 
I think I spend a bit too much time wishing that my already was a bit more like the not yet.  Lord, why did both my parents have cancer?  Karen...not yet.  And Lord, why does my youngest child have to endure such struggles?  Karen.....not yet.  Well, what about famine?  And war?  And terrorism?  And trying to figure out something for dinner day after day after day?  As I said, my beloved...not yet.
 
I long for the same kind of kingdom that the Jews were expecting, don't you?  But, Jesus has already given us all that we need.  His kingdom is a present reality - He is exercising His authority right now, and has already "blessed us in the heavenly realms with with every spiritual blessing in Christ" (Ephesians 1:3).  
 
The kingdom that Jesus announced at the beginning of Mark is rich and full and wonderful.  But it is not complete.  Not yet.  The yearning  we feel...the growing discomfort with the suffering of this world.....is because we were created with eternity in mind.    If our already were more like the not yet, then we wouldn't long for Jesus to come again. 
 
His kingdom has come, but we haven't seen anything.  Not yet.
 
Karen Peikert
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Wednesday, February 14, 2007

Remember the Resurrection

Resurrection Morning – Easter!  Remember: for Christians, every day is the day of remembering His resurrection . . . Jesus is alive!  Try to put yourself in “the picture” of this chapter . . . going with the women to the tomb with your fears, your worries, and your uncertainty.  v. 8 the mixed emotions of fear and joy combined!  So it is with many of us as we go out to live for Jesus in the world.  v. 16, 17   They worshipped Him.  Do I do so, too?  How can I do it better?  v. 20  The Great Commission . . . to tell others of our Lord.  Question to answer:  How can I THIS DAY share my faith with someone?  “The Lord is with us always . . . that is true yesterday, today, and always!  I need to pause now to thank the Lord for this wonderful assurance.

 

 

 

Tuesday, February 13, 2007

Grandpa Stayed Home

Matthew 27:38-66

My grandfather never went to church on Good Friday.

Our church typically held a Tenebrae service on Good Friday. Tenebrae, I understand, is Latin for "darkness." The service would begin with several altar candles lit. As the service progressed, through scripture readings and solemn Good Friday hymns, candles would gradually be extinguished. At the same time, the lights in the church would dim. Near the end of the service, the church would be lit only by one candle, representing Christ. When the verses were read announcing the death of Christ -- "Then Jesus shouted again and released his spirit." -- the last candle was extinguished and without even a final benediction, the congregation would depart in darkness and silence.

The point of a Tenebrae service is to communicate the emotional aspects of Christ's passion. For my grandfather, it was far too depressing. The rest of the family attended church on Good Friday, and my grandfather stayed home.

Today we read the Good Friday passages. Jesus hangs, nailed to the cross, enduring the immense pain of crucifixion. He also endures the taunts of religious leaders, the taunts of bystanders, and even the taunts of those being crucified alongside him. From the most important people to the least important, all who saw him being crucified mocked him.

But what Jesus seems least able to endure -- the thing that causes him to cry out in anguish -- is complete and utter abandonment. "My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?" Jesus, who in some mysterious way was God himself, experiences a separation from God. And his despair is unendurable.

This is the mystery of Christ on the cross. Somehow Jesus took on the sin of the world -- the sin that would cause all of us to be separated from God, cast away from the presence of God, forever, cast into darkness -- and Jesus went to that place of darkness on our behalf.

Our familiarity with the story -- and the fact that we know how it ends up a few days later -- may prevent us from really knowing the deep darkness of that Friday. Hindsight takes the edge off.

I used to think that my grandfather's refusal to go to church on Good Friday indicated a lack of understanding about the gospel. But it may have been that he understood all too well just how dark and depressing this part of the story is. And how dark and depressing separation from God is.

On Easter Sunday, my grandfather joined us for church. But you can't have Easter Sunday without Good Friday.

Drew Clausen

Monday, February 12, 2007

Friday Scoreboard

Matthew 27:15-37

Innocent.

In this Good Friday passion scripture, the word leaps out. If we created a tally sheet for this text with the headings, "Guilty" & "Innocent", whose names would fall under each?

Mrs. Pilate had a nightmare (v. 19). About Jesus. That's a bad combination -- to be on the nightmare end of an encounter with Jesus. Her urgent message comes to her husband sitting in a judgment seat in deliberation over Jesus. (A person sitting in the judgment seat above Jesus -- that may be more awkward than a nightmare about Him!) "Leave that innocent man alone." The wife of Pilate did not want to be guilty of the blood of Jesus. But she was.

Pilate himself was eager, it seems to me desperately so, to distance himself from the guilt of Jesus' murder. Here was a man who made his living by oppression and iron-fisted intimidation! But we see him nervously call for a basin of water, and see him dramatically wash his hands before the riotess crowd. "I am innocent of this man's blood." (v.24) He laid the responsibility for Jesus' death on the crowd. Pilate did not want to be guilty of the blood of Jesus. But he was.

Of course, there was plenty of guilt to go around: the crowds chanting for Jesus to be crucified; the priests and elders who plotted and persuaded toward the same; the murderous insurrectionist Barabbas whose deserved death penalty Jesus took; the soldiers who, bored by simple crucifixion, played with their prey by mockery and torture until "they were finally tired of mocking him" (v.31). Even generations yet to be born were brought into the equation, the guilt of Jesus' death begins for them as a matter of inheritance: (v.25) "his blood be on us and on our children!"

So, who is guilty, and who is innocent?

There are some who seem not to care a lick that their lives and choices put the innocent Son of God on the cross. There are others who for pride or fear seek vehemently complete disassociation. But at the end of the day, I see only one name on the scorecard under "Innocent", and the names of all others, of all humanity, my own included, under "Guilty".

His blood is on us. Somehow, might this verdict also be our pardon?

PPaul