Tempest in the Temple

NY Times 1-1-11, QUOTATION OF THE DAY

 "Whatever your vice is, we're your folks."

TENA ALONZO, director of research at Beatitudes nursing home in Phoenix, which gives Alzheimer's patients whatever they want.

This online/headline caught my eye last month.  The Beatitudes name makes for serious irony. (coincidently the Beatitudes are this week's lectionary gospel passage Matthew 5: 1-2.)  How many church leaders/pastors/employees wear themselves out trying to keep everybody happy instead of challenging each other to please God?

The current edition of Christian Century has a book review of G. Jeffrey MacDonald's "Thieves in the Temple:  The Christian Church and the Selling of the American Soul."  Right in line with last Sunday's message from John 2.  In the review, Lillian Daniels writes, small mainline churches are not immune to the temptation to bend over backward to meet people's desires.  We think if we provide it and they like it, they will come.  Conservatives and liberals share the same consumer orientation and the same temptation to put people pleasing programs about disciplined faithfulness.  

After some years of pastoring, I no longer find the labels "liberal and conservative" very useful.  But that aside, MacDonald and Daniels have put their cooperative fingers right on the point.  Every group I've ever worked with that was "high expectation" thrived.  And I've watched every one that aimed for the lowest common denominator as it bottomed out. 

Our denomination, the United Methodists, have spent quite a bit of energy developing hospitality in the past few years.  I think there's real value in welcoming each visitor as we would welcome Christ.  

But what if Christ came in swinging, as he did in John's account of his visit to the temple?  What do we do with the angry people?  Would we surround Jesus with "simmer downs" so he doesn't disrupt our careful cultivation of the right people and programs? Or would we have the presence of mind (soul?) to look at what sheep, cattle, coins, he was shoving toward the door?

MacDonald takes whacks at the prosperity gospel and "vacationaries," (those who do good to feel good).  But I don't think the rest of us should let ourselves off the hook too quickly.  Are we trying to give people what they think their hearts desire?  Or are we offering the real soul food of a gospel that challenges our hearts, minds and souls to be renewed by the power of a living Lord and the presence of the Holy Spirit?

Jesus Parable

No one has ever seen God. 
It is God the only Son, who is close to the Father's heart, 
who has made him known.


I've been thinking about yesterday's responses in worship, about we're noticing in John.  The one I'm focused on at the moment is Brian's observation that the parables are missing.  Well, maybe not gone missing, becuase they were never there in John's account.  But missing to our minds.  The "synpotic gospels," Matthew, Mark, and Luke, that form the backbone of our usual lectionary based worship ignite our imagination with "ahah" inducing parables.  But John is one conversation after another, held together with movement between Galilee and Jerusalem.  And, to be truthful, Jesus' part in those conversations gets prgressively more lopsidedly long and strange.

Meanwhile his cousin John keeps saying, look at him, look at him.  And Jesus keeps saying essentially, "when you see me you see God." (as Cindy noticed.)

What if instead of telling parables, Jesus IS the parable in John?  What if Jesus is the strange Word of God sent to provoke our "ahahs?"  Afterall, everything he does in this Gospel seems designed to get attention, while at the same time he insists that we turn that attention to God.

When the first would be followers approached Jesus, he asked, "what are you looking for?" (John 1: 35 NRSV) and when they ask where he's staying, he answers, "Come and See."
Jesus' encounter with Nathanael is basically a case of "I see you, can you see me?"

John calls Jesus, "light, "full of grace and truth,""Lamb of God,"
Jesus's signs, the surprising things he does, "reveal his glory" (John 2: 11).

Now here's the rub.  If Jesus is the parable who reveals God to all who come and see, then what are we as we become the Body of Christ?  Are we peculiar enough to be authentic God revealing parables ourselves?  Or are we content being mass produced?

Hmmm....if I were a parable..........

Hurdles

I've finally made time (well okay, the 2 feet of snow in Boston made time) to get into Warren Carter's book, John:  Storyteller, Interpreter, Evangelist.  Its a most helpful companion to our current journey through the conversations in the Gospel According to John. I've heard Warren speak.  He combines just the right amounts of erudite and down to earth insight.

In his discussion of the plot, Warren makes a nice outline of the four major elements previewed in this gospel's prologue. Here's my interpretation of what I'll call the "four hurdles."
Hurdle 1.  Jesus' credibility, which rests on the claim that he is God's original agent. John 1: 1-5
Hurdle 2.  A "behind the scenes" struggle (after their executions) between Jesus and John's respective followers. John 1: 6-8.
Hurdle 3.  The choice readers face of whether to follow Jesus or turn away, particularly in light of how countercultural, even dangerous, Jesus' way can be. John 1: 9-16.  (Verses 1: 10-13 have a nice plot summary)
Hurdle 4. How can Jesus be more important than Moses,  hero of the exodus and bringer of the law?

You may have noticed that the first and last have to do with "who the heck does this guy think he is," and the middle two are "then what should we do about it?"

Luckily, the Gospel encourages us not to puzzle over it alone, like this poor guy.  By creating a "revelatory biography"  (Warren Carter's term) that is a series of action linked conversations, the author shows us that insight comes from holy conferencing (John Welsey's term) or just plain good conversation.

That's the approach we're taking in worship right now, and on the pastor and church blogs.  We're also going to try a "virtual small group" and are eager to enlist participants and ideas about what platforms to try. So, let me know! 

The Host with the Most

The sermon I didn't preach last Sunday was titled, "The Host with the Most." ( I didn't preach it beacuse I rewrote to respond to Saturday's awful shooting in Arizona.)

Here's what I was thinking about John 1: 19-42 (the Message or check out John 1: 19-42 for the King James version-its interesting to put the two translations in conversation with each other).

 This story starts the gospel right off with conflict.  A crowd, seeded with questions by power seeking leaders, challenges John the Baptist (a different John from the one associated with creating this Gospel itself).  "Who are you," they ask, and "what are you doing?"  John replies that none of the names they try to pin on him are right.  He is the one pointing to something, or someone, new.  He doesn't really want to talk about himself at all.  He's all about the greater one who is coming.  But the authorities don't seem to hear (perhaps they're not very good listeners).

There's another sort of conflict in the background. We see it in the Gospel according to Matthew (Matthew 9:14 and chapter 11).  John and his cousin, Jesus, were both emerging as public figures. Many think that Jesus followed and learned from John for awhile.  What does a teacher do when a student starts to outshine them?  Especially when the teacher's other followers start following the upstart cousin....

Whatever bumps and rubs there may have been in the actual ministry situation, by the time this version of the Gospel gets written down, there is no doubt where the light shines brightest.  Its all about Jesus.
In fact, you can almost hear John say, "you idiots," as he tries and tries to say, "not me, him!"

Jesus is the host with the most and John the Baptist is his biggest cheer leader. I wonder how many of us would settle as garcefully into second fiddle.  How did John manage that transition?

It must have helped that they had the same goal-the salvation of their people, re-union with God. There must also have been a healthy helping of reality.  John knew his role.  He probably knew that if he tried to be something he wasn't it would end badly.  But if he went with the flow of gifts God poured into him, it was grace upon grace, not overcome even by his own "bad end" at King Herod's hand. (That's the guy who gave John's head on a platter to his dancing step daughter.)  The story John was part of, Jesus's story, was so much bigger and brighter than anything jealous powers could try to snuff out.  Its note the ratings light of a host that attracts the biggest following. That's resurrection light we see shining. The same resurrection light that meets us when Christ hosts the Lord's Supper or that glistens in drops of Baptism water tossed in the air over the head of the beloved.