“The First Covenant”

A Meditation on Genesis 9:8-17

     The feeling of dread began when a reporter from the Renville County Register called, wanting to write a story about a new pastor in town—me. The dread didn’t come from a bad experience with this reporter, Shelby, or the newspaper.  It came from my all years in journalism and being on the other “side.”

     I was the one who told all the stories! I wasn’t the one people wrote about!

     But I said, “Yes.”  It was an opportunity to share my faith and to speak about the church I love—my new family here at Ebenezer. I still felt anxious about the interview, which happened to fall the sleepy morning after a late session meeting.

     A few days after the interview, panic gripped me! I couldn’t remember what I had said to Shelby! I shared my fears with Sharon LeGare, suggesting that we do like an “I Love Lucy” episode.  I would be Lucy, trying to keep some crazy thing I had done secret from my husband, Ricky.  And she would be Ethel, the friend who always got dragged into Lucy’s schemes. We could wait in downtown Renville, I said, and buy up all the newspapers as soon as they arrived, before anyone in town could read the article.

     Sharon laughed. “But what about all the home delivery?” she pointed out. She wasn’t going to buy up all those, too!

     When it came down to it, I worried that Shelby wouldn’t understand my faith story. I was sure she would think I was a fanatic.

     The interview began with Shelby asking why I had become a pastor and why did I come here?  She looked down at her notepad, pencil raised, waiting for my answer.

      “God,” I said. She looked up, startled.  Then I went on to confess that there was a time during seminary when I didn’t want to be a pastor. My prayer was, “Please, Lord, no.”

      I told Shelby I was “very afraid.”  Because I knew that if God called me to do it, I would do it. If He decided to send me somewhere, I would go, in spite of my fear.

     My worries about the article that came out this week were for nothing. The headline under the photo of my dog Molly and me read, “Following God’s lead to Ebenezer.”  She had understood.

     I brushed off my silly anxieties as I read this week in Genesis about Noah’s situation.  Now he had reason to be worried. 

     Imagine a world where there is only one righteous man, only one who has found favor with God.  A world where no one listens for God’s voice or seeks to walk in His ways—no one except for Noah. God tells Noah to build an ark to rescue his family and as many of the living creatures of the land, sky, and sea that the ark could hold. The world of Noah’s time has become so evil that God’s “heart was saddened.” He regretted ever making these wicked people. So the Lord planned to send a great flood to destroy all living things not in Noah’s ark.

     Noah, trusting God, allows the Lord to lead Him. He builds the boat with God’s instructions.  Then he waits until God says it’s time to gather everyone and go inside. God does; and Noah obeys. Unlike Abraham, Moses, or me, Noah never complains or questions what God calls him to do.  Nowhere in Genesis does it say that Noah responded to God’s call with, “Please, Lord, no.”

     For 40 days and 40 nights, rain pours down and the fountains deep in the earth burst open. Floodwaters move across the earth and swallow the highest mountaintops. For 150 days, the ark drifts on water.  Months pass, and the water slowly recedes. God sends a wind to dry the land.

     I wonder, with the passage of all this time, did they run out of food?   Did they have enough clean water? Was there sickness? Death?  

     When the Lord finally gives the OK to leave the ark, miraculously, there are more animals than when they got on. Genesis says, “Every animal, creeping thing and bird, everything that stirs on the earth, came out of the ark” not 2 by 2, but “in families.” God cared for all the living creatures on that ark, as He had promised.

      Still, imagine the loneliness and emptiness of the changed world Noah encounters after the flood. Were piles of rubbish, broken trees, and scattered carcasses and bones of animals and people lying where water and wind had deposited them?

     This scene is the setting for God’s first covenant with humanity. Noah, right after he gratefully steps onto dry land, builds an altar to the Lord and offers a pleasing sacrifice. Then our God of mercy and grace—the same one who sent the flood to vanquish all wickedness—reaches out to reconcile with human beings, who could not save themselves. The Lord does this in response to his relationship with the one righteous man.

    This covenant is different than the one God makes with Abraham, when God promises him land and “seed”—offspring as numerous as the stars. His covenant with Abraham is specifically for him and his descendants, the Israelites, though blessings are promised for the world. The sign of Abraham’s covenant? Circumcision.

    The first covenant God makes, the one with Noah and his descendants, is a universal, everlasting promise for everyone and everything that lives on the earth.  The sign of this first covenant? A bow in the clouds—to remind the Lord of His everlasting promise never to destroy all living creatures again by flood.  It would also remind Noah of God’s providential care for him and his descendants.

      Unfortunately, this first universal covenant with God and all creatures was not enough to save the world from perishing. Wickedness continued. So God—many years after Noah, Abraham, and Moses lived—reached out, again, to reconcile human beings to Himself. Evil would, again, be vanquished—but not by taking human lives. 

     This time, God would graciously provide the sacrifice. His Own Son took our place and wiped our sins away. In Christ, the Lord fills us with righteousness and restores us to a loving relationship with Him. This new covenant, under which we now live, is sufficient.

      For all people. For all time.        

Let us pray.  Lord, thank you for your everlasting covenant with us through the life, death, and resurrection of your Son.  Forgive us our ingratitude, for fearing or avoiding what You call us to do and who You call us to be.  Give us strength to turn from our  selfishness and obey without complaint. Draw us nearer to You, into your light.  Thank you for Your faithfulness to us despite our unfaithfulness to You. In Christ’s name we pray. Amen.

“On a High Mountain”

Meditation on the Transfiguration of Christ: Mark 9:2-9

     Mount Hermon is really a mountain range that crosses the borders of Syria, Lebanon, and Israel. The highest peak of Mount Hermon is in Syria—9,230 feet above sea level.  The highest peak of Mount Hermon in Israel is 7,295 feet. 

     In winter, Israel’s Mount Hermon is covered with snow! Thousands of people flock to the mountain to see and ski the only place in Israel where there is snow.

     Mount Hermon is important to Israel, not just because it is a fun place to ski or hike, but because of its strategic advantage. Israel seized the mountain from Syrian control in the Yom Kippur War of 1973.

     On a clear day Israel can see deep into Syrian territory.

     People say Mount Hermon is the only “real” mountain in Israel and that all the other mountains are just “high hills.”

      Scholars say that Mount Hermon is very likely the “high mountain” described in Mark chapter 9, when Jesus is transfigured before the very eyes of Simon Peter, James, and John.

      Now Jesus the mountain climber was never an image that had come to mind before studying this week’s scripture, learning the elevation of the peaks of Mount Hermon, and seeing the snowy photos of skiers at the only ski site in Israel.  Whether the “high mountain” in Mark refers to the peak of Mount Hermon in Syria or in Israel, for sure it was a steep climb!

      Clearly, Jesus does not want the crowds to follow when he leads these three disciples up such a high mountain. His disciples don’t know why they are making this climb. But they want to be with him, wherever he goes.

     Right before the transfiguration narrative in Mark, Jesus tries to tell his disciples that he will be killed by the religious people in power, then he will be raised from the dead after 3 days. They are upset by his words and don’t want to hear them. Simon Peter scolds him, stirring Jesus to say, “Get behind me, Satan! You are thinking human thoughts, not God’s thoughts.”

     Christ will try to teach them his identity again on this high mountain. This time, he won’t use words, at least, not his own. The revelation will be like a scene from a science fiction movie, when suddenly people thought to be relatives or friends shed their disguises and reveal their true identities as something other than human, something not of this earth.

    As N.T. Wright’s contemporary translation says, suddenly Christ’s clothes shone with a “whiteness that no laundry on earth could match.” Then, the long-dead prophets Elijah and Moses appear, shining with an unearthly glow. They talk with Jesus. About what, Mark does not say.

     Frightened and confused, Peter babbles something about building houses for Moses and Elijah. Isn’t that just like Peter—the one who attempted to follow Jesus as he walked on water, but then sank for lack of faith?  All heart, wanting to please Christ and be his devoted servant. But not being able to figure out what Christ was trying to say to him.

     When Peter stops babbling, a cloud overshadows the little group gathered on the mountaintop.  And similar to what happened at Christ’s baptism, a voice speaks from the cloud, saying, “This is my Son, the beloved.” This time, the voice adds, “Listen to Him.”

     As suddenly as the supernatural event begins, it ends.  The prophets of old disappear.  And though Jesus’ loses the mysterious glow, his disciples can never see him again in the same light.

     The mountaintop experience ushers in the beginning of a new reality for the disciples. Jesus is not one of them; he is something more than human, more than a wise prophet and good teacher. The full meaning of the event—and Jesus’ instructions on the way down the mountain to not tell anyone until after His resurrection—will come to the disciples later on.  But hopefully they got the message—to listen to what Jesus says.

     Like Peter, James, and John, we cannot fully understand what God is doing in our lives or in us, for that matter. And there may be times when we don’t want to listen to everything God is trying to teach us. With this knowledge, comes the responsibility of having to obey. God calls us as new creatures in Christ to a dramatic change in the way we think and live.  The change may mean sacrifice—giving up a comfortable existence and routine—in order to pick up His cross and follow Him.  The change means quieting the other voices in your head and in your life so you can listen to God—really listen.

      It may be hard for some of you to trust a God who wants all of you and nothing held back. Maybe you have been hurt before by someone you loved, someone who let you down.  God will not let you down! And trials, such as illness, the loss of a loved one or an economic hardship, may move you to feel as if the Spirit is leading you up a steep climb that goes on and on.

     I can assure you that though your faith may quiver and your legs feel like Jello, God will never lead you up to the mountaintop without good reason.  

     If we listen for His voice and let Him lead us on this journey of faith together, He will use us to build His Church like He used Peter, the disciple who never seemed to say or do anything right. But he had a heart full of love and the desire to serve and please Christ. 

     When Jesus asks his disciples who they think he is, Peter, the one whose name means “rock,” is the one who knows.

     “You are the Christ,” he says, “the Son of the living God.”

     Jesus answers him, “Blessed are you, Simon Bar-Jonah, for flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my Father who is in heaven.  I also say to you that you are Peter (rock), and upon this rock I will build my church….”

   

Let us pray.  Lord, thank you for your word that reveals Christ to us and how we should live.  We pray your Spirit will open our ears to hear, really hear, and guide us to your will. Help us be your obedient servants.  Thank you for promising to use us for your work, though we don’t always say or do the right things. Give us loving hearts that yearn to please you. Give us patience when we feel as if you are leading us up a steep climb that doesn’t end. Lead us to feel your loving, comforting presence and bring us your joy that is like no other joy. In Christ’s name we pray.  Amen. 

                                                                

"In the Middle of the Night...A Lonely Place..."

Meditation on Mark 1:35-45 

For Feb. 12, 2012    

     A question came up in confirmation class last Sunday. “Why did Jesus, who did not sin, go to hell?”  We all agreed that it was an excellent question, so I will share the answer with you all.

     Why did a loving God allow someone who was without sin—perfect, actually—to be crucified and “descend into hell” as we say in our Apostle’s Creed?  And hell being the worst kind of punishment for a human being; all physical discomforts aside, it is, for those who are condemned for their rejection of God and His righteousness, an eternity of separation from the Lord.

     Why would God let that happen to His only Son—the one who loved and served God better than anyone else?

     What my wise student was asking about was Christ’s humanity. His human-ness. Our creed that was first written at the Council of Chalcedon in 451 A.D. and agreed upon by all the Western Church—and of which our Reformed tradition still affirms today—says Christ was fully divine AND fully human, “like us in all respects, apart from sin.” 

      This means that he experienced all the bodily needs and frailties in the human experience—hunger, thirst, fatigue, and cold. And he felt all the emotions people experience, including the temptation to react sinfully to sinful behavior and attitudes around him.  But the difference between Christ’s human-ness and ours is that Christ, though he was tempted, was always completely obedient to God.

    Our gospel in Mark begins today with Christ sneaking off in the middle of the night to a lonely place to pray.  Jesus is now so famous that he can’t ever be alone in the daytime.  It’s getting to the point that He can’t leave the house without being mobbed. And it isn’t that Christ is selfish and just wants to be left alone.  He needs to be alone so He can seek God’s face, listen to His voice, and obey His Will. 

     That is Christ’s priority—time with God. So much so, that even though His body, like ours, needs rest, He deprives Himself so He can be with God for those precious moments—until His disciples find him and draw Him away, once again, to be with them and continue in His ministry.

     After Christ heals the leper, the crowd control situation worsens. Christ can no longer travel about the towns anymore, preaching in the synagogues, which is what He wants to do.

     You see, Christ isn’t doing all these healing miracles to make himself famous and draw Israel away from their ancient faith in the one true God.  He is healing out of love, with God’s power, and for God’s glory. Christ specifically tells the man he heals to go directly to the priest and satisfy the religious requirements for purity and holiness so the man can return to the worship of God and life with his family in community.  As a leper, he is considered “unclean” and not just in a health way. The demons are called “unclean spirits.” “Unclean” is a state of evil and thought to be contagious, much like the disease of leprosy itself.

    Christ’s battle, like ours today, is with the forces of evil and not with “bad” people. Demons influence the thoughts and actions of “bad” people. This is spiritual warfare! When you read stories of Christ’s healings, think of Him not as a doctor of miracles, as we may be tempted to think of Him. Think of Him as the One with direct access to all the power of goodness in God crushing the deeds of darkness, rendering the demons powerless, and casting them far, far away. In the passage preceding today’s reading in Mark, that’s exactly what happens. 

      Despite the fact that Christ is no longer able to leave the countryside after word of the leper’s healing gets out, people from all over still come to hear the one who says He has been called not to be served but to serve. They are drawn to the message of repentance, forgiveness, and love, spoken by the one who places time with His Heavenly Father above everything else.

    This perfect, sinless one is whom God uses as a sacrifice for all the sins of all the people in the world, yesterday, today and forever.  He not only allows Christ to suffer, die and go to hell; this is God’s plan for salvation. Only God could provide the perfect, blameless sacrifice.

    What’s more, Christ is willing to be the sacrifice, though he feels the pain of the beatings of the whip, the nails pounded in his hands and feet, the crown of thorns thrust on His head, the sword piercing His side. He says to God, “Not my Will, but Yours be done.”

    Jesus dies and goes to hell, taking on Himself the punishment we deserve.

    Why would He do such a thing?

    Love.  A love we cannot fully understand, but one we are called to learn from and imitate.  The good news is that Jesus did not stay in the grave.  On the third day, Christ rose from the dead, showing us how we, too, will be raised and reconciled with God for all time. Then Christ sent us His Spirit so we would have the power of God’s goodness in us to penetrate and crush the forces of darkness and rescue others from an eternity of suffering and separation from God. 

    Today, we welcome four of God’s special servants in our church as we install them as ruling elders. These four, filled with the Holy Spirit, are willing to be clay for God to mold and use for His purposes.  They are offering all of themselves—their gifts, skills, experience, time, intelligence, personality, humor, compassion, patience, and kindness—to help us understand and live out the Gospel in our church, community and world. We are truly blessed!

    They will help shape the mission of this church.  They will be instruments of God’s reconciling love among us.

    They may feel overwhelmed at times as they respond to Christ’s call to discipleship. Because Christ’s model for love is very, very hard to follow.

    This kind of love is always sacrificial.  It hurts sometimes. 

    But we, in turn, will promise to pray for them, give them our unceasing respect and support, and seek God’s grace, wisdom and Will for them as they serve the Lord by serving our church. 

    Time with God, reading His Word and listening for His voice, will be our priority, just as it was for Jesus Christ.

    Who got up in the middle of the night… while it was still very dark… and went to a lonely place…

     And there He prayed.

     Amen.

The Seeker: Meditation on Mark 10:17-31

     The setting: sometime in the Old West.

     Man dressed in dirty cowboy hat and boots wakes up, startled, his breath coming in gasps. Looks around. He’s alone, without horse or water. In the desert. Can’t remember how he got there or who he is. Looks down. Discovers a gaping wound in his side, a strange metal bracelet on his wrist, and a black and white tintype of a woman he can’t remember.  He tries, fails, to remove the bracelet by hitting it with a rock.  Doesn’t know that it is a powerful weapon he has stolen from an alien who tried to kill him.  

      He doesn’t yet remember when the giant creature killed the woman in the photo, the one he loved, for whom he had been willing to give up a life of crime and ill-gotten gains: a pile of gold stolen from a stagecoach.

     Unsavory men on horseback approach wounded man and try to rob him. Wounded man beats them up. Heads to nearest town on one of their horses.  Enters a shack that appears deserted.

     Finds basin, water.  Splashes face.  Rips open dirty, blood soaked shirt.  Winces.

     Then, click of a gun against back of his head.  Low voice growling, “Palms to heaven!”  

     Grey bearded man takes wounded man’s gun.  Hisses, “Nice and slow.”

     Wounded man turns, hands raised.  “I’ve been shot.”

     Bearded man, who happens to be the town preacher: “Only 2 kinds of men get shot.  Criminals and victims.  Which one are you?”

     Wounded man: “I don’t know.”

     This is the story of The Seeker (Jake), The Doubter (Doc), The Preacher, a Scoffer (an old cowboy war hero named Col. Dolarhyde), and other sinners, including cowboys, Indians, a woman named Ella, and a boy named Emmett.

     The common enemy brings together a small town, people who mostly dislike and distrust one another. Together, they hunt down the terrible killing creatures from outer space. The creatures have come to study a weakness in human beings—man’s hunger for gold.

    The movie is Cowboys and Aliens. And though I don’t agree with all the theology, it does connect with our gospel lesson in Mark.

     The account of the rich man seeking salvation appears with slight variation in Matthew, Mark and Luke, so we know it bears an important message for us. Jesus gives this wealthy seeker 5 commands—“go, sell, give, come and follow”—with a promise—“you will have treasure in heaven.” This man’s call story is different than the simple, “Follow me” that Christ’s disciples responded to earlier. Importantly, this is the only call story in Mark when the one to whom Jesus beckons, “Come. Follow me,” responds by walking away.

    And yet the story isn’t really just about the impediment of riches for the salvation of human beings. It is the difficulty for all human beings to be saved.

    Scholars say the verses that immediately follow the rich man walking away are awkward when translated.  The real meaning of Christ’s discourse is: “How hard, indeed, it is for anyone to enter the kingdom, but for rich people, it is quite impossible. In fact, humanly speaking, it is impossible for anyone to be saved, rich or not, but with God all things are possible.”

    On this impossibility for human beings, we place our hope. We cannot save ourselves. But with God all things are possible.

 ***

     In Cowboys and Aliens, Preacher sews up Jake’s wound, though Jake is just a stranger and he knows next to nothing about him. He asks more questions, but Jake’s answers are always the same: “I don’t know.” 

      Preacher speaks from his faith. “I’ve seen bad men do good things and good men do bad.” He tells Jake that he has a choice to make for his life. God won’t make the choice for him. What’s the plan?

      And it is true that the choice to follow Christ is a decision we all must make. Christ died for the world and beckons to all sinners to come.

     Some will choose to receive Him in faith and turn from their sin.

     Some—like the rich man in Mark, worried about what Jesus would require him to give up—will walk away.

     Jake doesn’t respond to Preacher. He doesn’t know yet that he is a Seeker.  A woman named Ella tells him so while he tips back a shot of whiskey at the town saloon, but he isn’t ready to hear it.

     Ella: “I know you are looking for something.  So am I.”  She offers to help him.

     And Jake rejects her repeatedly: “Go away.”

     But the Seeker will have a change of heart toward Ella and the others.      

        Doc, the saloonkeeper, whose wife is abducted by aliens, is the Doubter.  He finds it difficult to believe in a God of love who allows horrible things to happen, something many people struggle with.

    Preacher tells him, “You just gotta have faith.”

     Doc:  “Yeah, God’s been real swell to me.  I don’t mean no disrespect, Preacher, but either he ain’t up there or he don’t like me much.”

    Like the Seeker, the Doubter has a change of heart. The two become allies when an alien mortally wounds Preacher while the preacher is trying to save young Emmett.

     Preacher gasps out his final words in Jake’s arms, pressing him to make his choice.  

     Preacher:  “Go get our people back!”

     Seeker, in the end, does the right thing. With Ella and the others, he helps destroy the aliens, saving lives and putting his own life in harm’s way to do it. And he and Doubter—thief and saloonkeeper—find peace. All because one man persisted in sharing his faith with words and kind deeds, though their hearts were hard and their sins were many.

     At the preacher’s graveside, Doc and Jake (once Doubter and Seeker) stand alone as the others ride off.  With hats removed and eyes lowered, they remember their friend and how he helped them.  Doc says a prayer, asking the Lord to protect Preacher’s soul. He tells God that Preacher made him feel better and that the world was a better place for having him.

      The choice to follow Christ is a decision we all must make. Christ beckons to all sinners to come. 

     Some will choose to receive Him in faith.

     Some will walk away.

     What I hope you will take from this message is encouragement to talk about your faith with people who may not know Christ.  We all have people in our lives who are Doubters, Seekers, and maybe even Scoffers. God has put them there for a reason.

     The seeds of faith you sow today may take root in their hearts tomorrow.

     With God all things are possible. On this, we place our hope.

Will you pray with me?  Lord, thank you for your Holy Word that inspires us to hear Christ’s call with fresh ears. Help us answer the call to follow and serve with new energy.  Lord, please give us soft hearts, grateful hearts, that are never set against your ways.  Show us your Will and lead us to choose only paths of righteousness.  Thank you for loving us enough to give the world a way to salvation, eternal life with you, through the sacrifice of your Son, Jesus Christ on a cross.  Give us the courage and compassion to share your Word and our faith with people who don’t know Christ as their Lord.  In His name we pray.  Amen.