Finding God in History

Introduction

Palm Sunday. The day we remember what we call “the triumphal entry”. We have enjoyed the parade of children this morning, and we sing and rejoice, joining in the ancient triumph of Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem. “Ride on, King Jesus! No one can hinder thee!” Palm Sunday begins what we call “Holy Week”, which culminates in Good Friday and Resurrection Sunday. This is the centre of the church’s year, when we remember and re-enter the mystery of God’s work in God’s Son to redeem the world and reconcile the world to himself.

The Passage

This year we read the account from Mark 11. I will describe the passage briefly and then expand on one basic point that impressed me as I read the story again this year. In the first verses we find Jesus and his disciples at Bethany (and Bethphage). Bethany is a little less than two miles east of Jerusalem, and Jesus stayed there quite regularly with Mary and Martha and Lazarus. He sent two of the disciples on ahead of the rest to find a donkey, which Jesus told them they would use for his entry into Jerusalem.

The disciples found the donkey and brought it back, and they all went into Jerusalem together, with Jesus riding on the back of the donkey. Soon a crowd had gathered around Jesus. I am guessing that they recognized Jesus as a teacher and miracle-worker, and put his actions and words together with the action of riding into Jerusalem on a donkey’s back.

Why a donkey? What did the people see? They would have remembered the words of Zechariah 9:9 and 10: “Rejoice greatly, Daughter Zion! Shout, Daughter Jerusalem! See, your king comes to you, righteous and victorious, lowly and riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey. I will take away the chariots from Ephraim and the warhorses from Jerusalem, and the battle bow will be broken. He will proclaim peace to the nations. His rule will extend from sea to sea and from the River to the ends of the earth.” Perhaps they would have also thought of the prophecy contained in Jacob-Israel’s blessings for his sons in Genesis 49: 9 and 10, which serve as deeper background to Zechariah.

Zechariah’s prophecy is a Messianic passage, and the people could hear the promise of the restoration of God’s reign in full. They may have thought that Jesus was a country prophet, come to fulfill a vow at the Passover Feast and remind people of the Messiah (so argues William Lane in his commentary on Mark). In any case they joined in the fun, although they did not grasp the depth of what God was doing in front of them.

The use of a donkey indicates that God has won the victory, and that God’s Messiah now comes in peace—not on a warhorse, but on a humble donkey. So the people cheer for God’s victory and for a future of peace and prosperity. Then the passage ends with a strange sort of anticlimax: “Jesus entered Jerusalem and went into the temple courts. He looked around at everything, but since it was already late, he went out to Bethany with the Twelve.” Mark is the only one who records this interlude, as the big parade turns into a small sightseeing excursion.

There are at least two reasons for this anticlimax. The first is that it happened. When Jesus and the disciples had completed the entry, they took the donkey back to its owner and spent the night in Bethany. Mark probably collected much of his account from Peter, who told the story many times within the early church community. Mark also was probably there, and remembers what happened. After looking around for a bit, everyone went back to Bethany for the night.

The second reason is the one I want to focus on for the rest of our time. Throughout his account of “the Gospel of Jesus Christ”, Mark emphasises the way that Jesus moved from climax of healing or exorcism to anticlimax of “Don’t tell anyone”. Here again Jesus steps back before he moves to the climax of his whole ministry. Quietly now!

The Power of Smallness

This quietness leads me to look again at the triumphal entry. Imagine with me that one of the people watching this is a reporter for The Jerusalem Times. This reporter is normally assigned to cover events in the capital of the Empire, in Rome itself. Just a week before he came home for the Feast of the Passover he covered a real Triumph. Here is a description of a Roman Triumph, from Wikipedia:

On the day of his triumph, the general wore a crown of laurel and the all-purple, gold-embroidered triumphal toga …, regalia that identified him as near-divine or near-kingly. He rode in a four-horse chariot through the streets of Rome in unarmed procession with his army, captives and the spoils of his war. … [Over time] increasing competition among the military-political adventurers … ensured that triumphs became more frequent, drawn out and extravagant, prolonged in some cases by several days of public games and entertainments.

Now he watches this Palestinian peasant riding on a donkey into Jerusalem. He can’t help thinking to himself that people would not cheer so loudly if they could have seen what he has seen in Rome. The donkey, on the other hand is a strange and humble animal—not nearly so proud as a war horse. Yet the donkey carried the King of Kings into Jerusalem. G.K. Chesterton wrote a poem called “The Donkey”:

When fishes flew and forests walked

And figs grew upon thorn,

Some moment when the moon was blood,

Then surely I was born;

With monstrous head and sickening cry

And ears like errant wings,

The devil’s walking parody

On all four-footed things.

The tattered outlaw of the earth,

Of ancient crooked will;

Starve, scourge, deride me: I am dumb,

I keep my secret still.

Fools! For I also had my hour;

One far fierce hour and sweet:

There was a shout about my ears,

And palms before my feet.

This idea (of finding God’s power in small things) is a repeated note in the Bible. It is the way that God works. As the Lord said to Samuel: “The Lord does not look at the things people look at. People look at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.” (1 Samuel 16:7) We look at power and prestige and think that these God at work. But God is at work where God chooses to work. Listen to the way that Paul says it in 1 Corinthians 1:22-29:

²² Jews demand signs and Greeks look for wisdom, ²³ but we preach Christ crucified: a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles, ²⁴ but to those whom God has called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God.²⁵ For the foolishness of God is wiser than human wisdom, and the weakness of God is stronger than human strength. ²⁶ Brothers and sisters, think of what you were when you were called. Not many of you were wise by human standards; not many were influential; not many were of noble birth. ²⁷ But God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong. ²⁸ God chose the lowly things of this world and the despised things—and the things that are not—to nullify the things that are, ²⁹ so that no one may boast before him.

God is at work in history, but not where we often look. God is at work in in the small places of our world, in your life and in my life, among and in ordinary people, to bring the Reign of God into the whole world. God uses you and me, just as God used the donkey and the crowds and the children, to make our world right.

Some Examples

Allow me to illustrate with some examples I have learned about in the past two weeks. A week and a half ago I had lunch with a man we’ll call John. He and his wife worked in Pakistan for many years with a Baptist Mission. Now they are based in Winnipeg, working with indigenous churches in Pakistan and Nepal. They travel back to Pakistan periodically and to Nepal more frequently.

John told me about a group of Christians he works with in Pakistan. They come from a Pakistani Hindu background. As John told me, the Hindu minority in Pakistan is small, about 1% of the population of the country, and they are at the bottom of the social pile—practically speaking most of them are slaves. Over a period of time a small group of Christians grew up in this Hindu minority, about 35 house churches by the time he left the country two years ago. This year he went back to Pakistan and provided some Bible training for their leadership. He found that they had grown from 35 to 100 house churches.

Now this is not the kind of movement that people look at and say, “Wow! Two million new believers!” Rather it means perhaps a thousand new followers of Jesus from the Hindu minority of Pakistan.  This is not the sort of thing that will make the international news, nor will many people be impressed by it; but this is God at work in our history. This is God at work in the small ordinary places of our world.

Sometimes these small things result in events that do get reported in the news. You may recall an event several months ago in Kenya. Last December a militant Somali group named Al Shabab stopped a bus travelling in northern Kenya near the Somali border. They started to separate the Muslims from the Christians in order to execute the Christians, when the Muslim passengers took action. One man, named Salah Ferah, stood up and told them that they were all brothers and would not separate. The Muslim women on the bus started to give their hijabs to the Christian women so that the armed men could not tell them apart. The gunmen shot Salah and two other men and then they fled. Salah later died of his wounds. This is a wonderful story of Muslims and Christians pursuing peace together in the midst of conflict. There is more to the story than I will tell here, but you can sense the echoes of God entering Jerusalem on a donkey’s back, bringing peace to the world.

God is at work in our world in ways that you would never guess. If you are focussing on the big events in the news, you could be like that reporter in Jerusalem who thought the important Triumph was in Rome, and missed the entry of God’s own self into human history.

A teacher at Providence was telling me about a student in her class—we’ll call him Sam. When you watch Sam, you notice his awkwardness and loudness, but his teacher told me he is really a good person. I was walking to the Student Centre this past week and passed Sam. He greeted me awkwardly as we passed each other and I saw two things: I saw the socially awkward young man, and I saw goodness shining in him. I said that to his teacher, and she told me of a conversation Sam once had. A fellow worker at his job was talking about the hardships he has experienced, which made it hard for him to believe in God. Sam has had a harder life than most, greater than the person talking to him could know, but he responded simply that God loves him and he loves God. His friend was silent for a bit, and then he said, “I’ll have to think about that.” In that conversation you can see, if you are looking for it, God at work in history. There was a little triumphal entry, with voices calling, “Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!”

Conclusion

This is the beginning of Holy Week. We remember this great climax of Jesus’ life and ministry, as he dies on the cross for you and for me. Often we think that we are not important enough to join in the parade, but that’s just the point. Jesus wants to enter your life and my life in triumph.

It doesn’t matter if you’re young. As Randy reminded us last Sunday, God wants young people to do his work in the church and in the world. We need you. God needs you! It doesn’t matter if you’re middle-aged. You may be focussed on career as you enter the time you can become a real success. But real success is found in following Christ, in allowing Jesus to enter your life in triumph. It doesn’t matter if you’re getting older. I’m reading a lot about the beginning of Brethren in Christ Missions. The first missionary group went from North America to Zimbabwe in 1898—one young woman in her early 20s (Adda Engle), one almost middle-aged woman in her mid 30s (Frances Davidson), and one older couple of 60 years old (Jesse and Elizabeth Engle). God used all four of them. Adda eventually married another of the early missionaries, who died in the 1920s following an attack by a lion. Frances worked there until she was in her 60s, when she returned to the States. Jesse died after only two years, and Elizabeth returned to the States. Each one of them was part of God’s work beginning the BIC Church in Zimbabwe.

The only thing that matters is that Jesus wants to enter into every one of us and work in our world through us—old or young, married or single, parent or child, blue collar or white collar, awkward or graceful or anything else. We find God in history when we find God in each other. I pray that you are part of his triumphal entry into our lives this morning.

Steinbach Mennonite Church

20 March 2016

Palm Sunday: Mark 11:1-11

Being a White Zimbabwean 2

As the last story told, Lois and I had the privilege of becoming part of a Zimbabwean family living here in Manitoba, helping with the process of bringing together the Moyo and Penner families (names changed). More recently I became part of another Zimbabwean family.

It was Saturday morning when the call came: friends of ours, a Zimbabwean couple named John and Mary (again, no real names used). John asked me for a favour. Their daughter, living in another province wanted to bring her boyfriend (also a Zimbabwean) home. But there was a complication—under the circumstances he should not just arrive at the house and ask to marry her. That might work for Canada, but not for Zimbabwe. The favour then was this: Would I go to the airport with his daughter (we’ll use the name Noma again—it’s a good Zimbabwean name) to pick up the boyfriend (we’ll call him Musa, another good Zimbabwean name) and bring him to meet Noma’s parents. John told me, “Noma will explain to you what you need to do.” I agreed, and entered on a valuable experience.

On the way in we engaged in small talk. Then we picked up Musa and started driving back. At first we talked generally, getting to know each other, but soon we got down to business. I was to act as Musa’s friend who would open the way for the young man to meet his girlfriend’s parents. Noma herself would disappear as soon as we arrived at the house (and disappear she did!). We would go in and greet those assembled, and then sit down on the floor. I would make a payment to open the conversation, and then a statement saying why we were there, and then a further payment for bringing the daughter home in such a way. (Musa brought the money that we used. The amount he brought is irrelevant and not mentioned here.)

That is more or less what happened. We knocked at the door and were admitted. John was sitting in the living room with some neighbour friends he had asked to come and serve as witnesses. Mary was working in the kitchen preparing supper. We greeted all the people assembled, then Musa and I sat on the floor in front of John.

I handed John the first payment to open the conversation, and he called Mary from the kitchen to stop her work and join us in the living room. Everyone gathered (except Noma, who had disappeared into her room), and I proceeded. I said something like this, based on our conversation in the car, “I am bringing you this young man. His name is Musa from [name of town]. He is coming to acknowledge his responsibility for your daughter and to apologize for bringing her to you in this way. You do not need to go looking for her, because he has brought her here.” Then I placed a further payment in a bowl that John had set on the table.

John is a friendly person who is normally a delight to be with, but that evening he was the father whose daughter had been brought home expecting a child. His face was stern—I think. My eyes were downcast as I did my best to ignore my mother’s voice in my head saying, “Look at me when you talk to me!” He counted the money slowly and carefully, an amount that had been worked out between the parties before the actual event. Then he handed it to his wife and asked a further question.

“Does he have anything else to say?” I remember my lines: “He says they would like to return in two a half months to talk more with you.” John made sure of the date, since, as he explained, they had to gather the family together for that meeting. Musa confirmed to me that the date was firm, and I repeated that to John.

Another question remained. “What is his clan?” Fortunately I had asked that question on the way from the airport. “Ncube”, I said. John looked grave. “We are also Ncube.” Is he Ncube from Murewa or from Kameni or from somewhere else?” (I may not have the clan names right, but that is what I remember.) I decided I thought he was from Murewa. John was pleased, “We are from Kameni, so that is all right.”

Then he was his cheerful self again. The young people were sent to the basement to enjoy each other’s company, and the neighbours joined us in another wonderful meal. I can tell you that Zimbabwean cooking is excellent!

So now I have been the friend who goes between to begin a relationship leading to marriage. A privilege beyond asking. As we were getting ready to leave, Musa came over and thanked me and then asked if I would be one of his party for the next round of negotiations referred to above (he would like me to come back in two and half months). Those of his family in Canada will come, but the extended family is in Zimbabwe. So I may learn something more about setting the dowry.

You can read about many things in books, but you learn more when people are gracious and include you in their lives. So thanks to our Zimbabwean friends who have included us in their lives. Lois and I say (in Shona and Ndebele), “Tinotenda. Siyabonga kakhulu.”

Being a White Zimbabwean 1

Over the past couple of years Lois and I have experienced the joy of our connections to Zimbabwe in ways that we never experienced. Here are two stories, with names changed since they are other people’s stories too. The first story is in this blog, and the second follows.

A couple of years ago we were approached by a friend (let’s call her Nomathemba), the daughter of a Zimbabwean couple (we’ll call them Simba and Dorcas—not their real names) who live here in Manitoba. She wanted to get engaged to her Mennonite boyfriend (think the usual names here, like Penner, Plett, Giesbrecht, and so on, and you’ll have the idea). They wanted to honour her culture as a Zimbabwean in the process, so they came over for supper and we had a talk about what to do.

Noma’s extended family is back in Zimbabwe, so they asked Lois if she would be Simba’s sister, and if Lois and I would approach her parents to introduce her boyfriend and ask if they may become engaged. We agreed, and then we found that means we had to bless their desire to marry first, so plied friend Penner (not his real name either) with questions about his background and their relationship. We were happy to give them our blessing.

So we called Simba and asked if we could come over for supper and bring the young couple with us. (I’m not used to inviting myself for a meal, but it worked well.) A few nights later we sat in Simba and Dorcas’ living room, talking with them and the young couple, who had shown up earlier than they were supposed to. Penner just wasn’t used to waiting until told he could come in now! A delightful meal followed. (I should invite myself over more often!)

Then the moment came. Penner and Noma asked us if we could ask their parents if they could get married. Everyone in the room could hear the question. So we called Noma’s young brother, Simbarashe over, and asked him to ask his parents if his sister and Penner could get married. He crossed the two yards between us and them and asked them the question they had now heard twice already. Simba and Dorcas huddled together speaking in Shona, then told young Simbarashe the answer, which the couple could hear plainly. He stepped back to us and gave us the answer, which all again could hear. Finally we turned to Penner and Noma and gave them the good news that her parents had agreed.

After the drama was over, and we had all played our parts, Simba and Dorcas started reminiscing about the process when they had first gone to her family. We found out how much dowry (1) he had paid for her, and ways in which they had negotiated behind the scenes before anything was done in public. We learned also that usually there would have been all the members of the family present, and the question would have gone from youngest to oldest through a chain of all the father’s brothers. Then Simba added, “All of these people are witnesses of the commitment the couple has made. If they have trouble later, these are the people they turn to for help.” I was impressed with the sense that marriage is a real exercise in community.

Simba also told us that the first thing he did when he learned of their interest was check ancestry.com to make sure that the Penners and the Moyos are not related. We laughed—Russian Mennonites and the Shona people of Zimbabwe come from two different worlds, but behind the laughter lies the awareness that the totem, the clan is important. If one marries inside the clan, there are further steps one must take to make everything right.

So we are White Americans, who have become White Canadians, and now thanks to our Zimbabwean friends we are also White Zimbabweans. Tatenda, Shamwari Simba.

(1) Dowry or Lobola (Ndebele) or Roora (Shona). Not a part of our Canadian customs, but very much part of Zimbabwe.

Changing the Rules of the Game

Introduction

With our passages today we come to the centre of Mark’s account. We come to the heart of the gospel and hear just what it is that Jesus wants us to be and to do. With this in mind we walk together the text with and then work with one strand we find there. I found preparation to be more challenging than usual this week because there is so much in the text. We could spend the next month or three here without difficulty, and still no exhaust what the text says to us.

Mark 8:27-9:8

8:27-30

The first section brings the question, “Who is this guy?”, to its climax. Jesus knows the answer before he asks, “Who do people say I am?” The interchange is intended rather to help the disciples process the question for themselves. Then Peter verbalizes the answer; “You are the Messiah.”

This is the climax of the Messianic secret. As we have noted several times in the previous chapters, Jesus provokes people to wonder who he is and to speculate that he is the Messiah. After each act of healing, or exorcism, or forgiveness, he says, “Don’t tell anyone.” The people thought they knew what the Messiah would be, and they were wrong. So Jesus works to give them a new understanding.

Think of it this way. The Jews of Jesus’ day were playing a game with great enthusiasm. We might call the game, “Spot the Messiah”, sort of like a Where’s Waldo exercise as they tried to see who would come forward as God’s representative to throw out their Roman rulers. Jesus changed the rules of the game. Each time that they think they see the Messiah, he does something to make them wonder how he could possibly be the Messiah. Finally, the disciples really come to grips with what he is doing, and they get it: “You are the Messiah!”

The final verse in this section, “Don’t tell anyone”, keeps the game going for everyone else. Jesus will not short-circuit the process. People have to work it out for themselves as they keep playing, “Spot the Messiah.”

8:31-33

Peter’s great confession is followed immediately by his great failure. He has not yet grasped the depth of Jesus’ identity as the Messiah of God. Jesus starts talking about the way that he will die—indeed, the way that the Messiah must suffer and die, before he can rise from the dead. Peter responds by telling him that this cannot be. You see that Peter is still stuck with the old wrong idea about the Messiah. The Messiah is a conquering hero, not a suffering peasant! Jesus responds strongly: Get behind me Satan! The identification of the Messiah with conquest and power is a lie of the Devil!

8:34-9:1

Then Jesus puts his rebuke of Peter into the form of a general principle: Whoever would follow Jesus [that is what “be my disciple” means] must truly follow him—that is, the follower of Jesus imitates him in life and in death. Resurrection comes only to those who die in and with Christ.

Jesus closes this section with the verse: “Truly I tell you, some who are standing here will not taste death before they see that the kingdom of God has come with power.” Some people wonder how this can be, taking “come with power” to refer to Jesus’ second coming. We observe that the promise is fulfilled in several different ways—in the transfiguration that follows, in Jesus’ resurrection, and in the second coming at the end of time. Of these several layers, I see the resurrection as central.

9:2-8

So we come to the scene of the Transfiguration. Six days after the events we have just described, Jesus took Peter, James, and John up a high mountain for an experience almost beyond description. Jesus was “transfigured” as he stood before them.

Clearly this event recalls Moses ascending Mount Sinai with Joshua in Exodus 24:

¹³Then Moses set out with Joshua his aide, and Moses went up on the mountain of God. ¹⁴ He said to the elders, “wait here for us until we come back to you. Aaron and Hur are with you, and anyone involved in a dispute can go to them.”¹⁵ When Moses went up on the mountain, the cloud covered it, ¹⁶ and the glory of the Lord settled on Mount Sinai. For six days the cloud covered the mountain, and on the seventh day the Lord called to Moses from within the cloud.

You see the parallels.

There are various other events in between Moses going up the mountain with Joshua and his final descent with the renewed tablets in Exodus 34, but notice especially verse 29:

²⁹ When Moses came down from Mount Sinai with the two tablets of the covenant law in his hands, he was not aware that his face was radiant because he had spoken with the Lord. ³⁰ When Aaron and all the Israelites saw Moses, his face was radiant, and they were afraid to come near him.

This event brings together Elijah the prophet and Moses the lawgiver with Jesus, the Son of God, making clear that Peter, James, and John find themselves in the presence of God, who is bringing about the salvation of the world. As noted above, we can see this transfiguration of Christ as fulfilling verse 1. Peter, James, and John see the coming of the kingdom in power and great glory, even if it is not the final fulfillment of this verse in Jesus’ resurrection and second coming.

As the three disciples stand there, Peter responds, but is ignored. Instead, God himself speaks from Heaven identifying Jesus even more clearly than in Peter’s confession: “This is my Son, whom I love. Listen to him!” Listen means more than simply, “Hear his words.” It means also, “Follow!” So in this climax we hear again Jesus’ words earlier in the passage, “Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.”

Synthesis

There are many themes we could pick up and respond to. I will consider one briefly, but of course there is material here for many more studies together. The group that meets this Wednesday at 2 pm has more than enough material for their time together. Perhaps they should bring their supper along and meet until the club hour is over as well!

We come back to this game of “Spot the Messiah.” There is a similar game around us today, which we might call, “Spot the Christian.” When people think about Christians, what do they think of? What do they think we are like? How can they tell if you are a Christian?

Here are some of my own guesses as to what many people around us think.

•  I go in to a restaurant and, before I start my meal, I bow my head and pray. You can see people spot the Christian after an athlete scores a touchdown and immediately point up to Heaven to say, “This one is for God!”
•  I did a quick Google of “What are Christians like?” One of the first results was a blog by an “ex-Christian”, noting that Christians are most likely to support torturing terrorists to keep America safe. The comments beneath repeated in various forms the view that Christians are often driven by hate of people they don’t understand, and by a compulsion to make everyone else just like them.” I know that I disagree with their perspective, but when they play, “Spot the Christian”, I know what they think we look like.
•  A common theme among people who think Christians look like this is that Christians are blinded by faith and unable or unwilling to use reason. We are (they tell us) irrational people who try to make other people give up their reason to be like us. 

I could keep going, but that’s enough. You can see what the rules of the game “Spot the Christian” look like. We can argue with people if we like. We can tell them that we are driven by love, not hate, that Christian faith is rational, not irrational, that we welcome everyone and compel no one. We can argue all we like, but the rules of the game stay the same.

So we take a step backwards and ask: What did Jesus do? He did not argue with the people trying to convince them that they had a wrong view of the Messiah. Rather, he acted in ways that drew them to him, and then refused to fit into their rules. He changed the rules of the game by accepting into himself the hate and bitterness and anger of the world around him, dying on the cross. In the verses we read, we see that Jesus calls us to follow him on the same path. People are playing a game with rules that make it almost impossible for us to represent God faithfully (remember, God made us as his images). Instead of arguing with them and saying how unfair their game is, we imitate Jesus and break their rules.

How did Jesus break the rules? He refused to claim the title that was rightfully his, and kept on doing the things that the Messiah would do. In Mark’s account, he healed the sick and demon-possessed. He ate with broken people, the outcasts of society—tax collectors and sinners. He performed miracles such as calming the storm on the lake and feeding five thousand with one person’s meal. He announced the coming of a new reality in his own person, including overcoming death itself.

We cannot do all that he did, but we have the model: We embrace the marginalized and the hurt of this world, even if so doing leads to our own deaths, as we each take up our cross and follow Jesus. When people ask, “Why are you doing this?” We respond, “I’m a Christian, but don’t tell anyone!” Then we let them wrestle with it and keep watching us to see if they can figure it out.

Where This May Take Us

As long as we think primarily of how our choice to follow Jesus affects other people, we are not yet following him fully. To put it another way, I want to change the rules of the game people play, the game of “Spot the Christian”. But if that is what I want most, I am not yet following Jesus. Jesus says, “Before anything else, you must take up your cross and follow me.”

Where does this take us? Taking up my cross means that I die to myself and live to Christ. I ask first of all, what does God want in my life now?

• A neighbour asserts his rights in a way that inconveniences me. I respond by seeking a path that restores our relationship, not just by getting what I want.
• The church wonders what to do if the government removes our charitable status. We respond by seeking God’s path, not ours—even if that means accepting a status we resent.
•  Mennonite Church Canada struggles with our future. We accept that God’s path may involve the death of structures we have come to love.
• Our community sees graffiti going up around town. We look for ways to be God’s people in relationship with the graffiti artists.
• A friend chooses to live in a relationship we think is wrong. We look for ways to stay in relationship—being authentic about our own understanding of what is right and wrong while upholding the dignity of our friend in his/her choices.

In every case, we work together to understand what God wants us to do. We accept the loss of personal privilege that goes with being real community under Jesus. We accept the loss of personal rights that goes with not fighting back against those who lash out in their distress. We accept the hurt and anger around us, recognizing that real life come only through embracing the cross.

When we follow this path, we enter into the pain and distress of this world and accept it as our own. We may experience “compassion fatigue” or “secondary PTSD” in the process: That may be what “take up your cross and follow me” means. When we enter this path, we also receive experiences like the transfiguration, which give us glimpses of glory on the way.

Some Concluding Words

I must admit that I feel completely inadequate at this point. I know what I am trying to communicate—that living in relationship with Jesus brings us into a lifestyle that makes no sense to the world around us and has the potential to change their understanding about God and the whole of reality.

You see, the game of “Spot the Christian” has become a way of pushing people away from God. Now, although following Christ is our primary goal, nevertheless I do want to see people, the whole world reconciled with God. I was at a conference this past week listening to theologian Chris Wright speak on “The Mission of God.” He referred especially to Ephesians 3:

² Surely you have heard about the administration of God’s grace that was given to me for you, ³ that is, the mystery made known to me by revelation, as I have already written briefly. ⁴ In reading this, then, you will be able to understand my insight into the mystery of Christ, ⁵ which was not made known to people in other generations as it has now been revealed by the Spirit to God’s holy apostles and prophets. ⁶ This mystery is that through the gospel the Gentiles are heirs together with Israel, members together of one body, and sharers together in the promise in Christ Jesus.

So Wright focussed on this incredible mystery that everyone—Jew and Gentile alike—are brought into one family to share in “the promise of Jesus Christ.” (You can hear these lectures, “the Downey Lectures”, here.)

I often refer to 2 Corinthians 5 in this way:

¹⁸ All this is from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ and gave us the ministry of reconciliation: ¹⁹ that God was reconciling the world to himself in Christ, not counting people’s sins against them. And he has committed to us the message of reconciliation.

God wants the whole world to live in harmony and peace, what the Bible calls Shalom. And God has made us part of the process by which he brings all creation into the peace and justice that belongs to creation from the beginning.

I was interviewed by a student this week for a class on “adult development”. She asked me, “If you had three wishes, what would you ask for?” After some thought, I settled on that old standby, World Peace. Can you imagine a world in which Jews and Arabs have learned to hear and accept each other’s pain, and have brought peace to their region? Can you imagine a world in which the marginalized of Steinbach have moved beyond the restlessness that destroys their lives and become fully themselves, God’s children? Can you imagine a world in which Donald Trump has learned to love those who protest at his rallies—to love them as much as he loves himself? Or a world in which I can also love Donald Trump, although I find his policies and campaign style destructive. Can you imagine a world in which we can welcome refugees without being afraid that they will make our lives harder? Can you imagine a world in which your brother or sister, who has somehow survived a destructive divorce, can be reconciled completely with their ex-spouse? Can you imagine a world in which that friend who has hurt you so badly—or whom you have cut off completely—is restored through God’s grace to full friendship?

I’m not sure I can, but I know I want to. And I know that the only way there is the way of the cross, which Jesus has already walked and on which he invites us to follow. The rule of the world’s game is, “Look out for number one. Get the other guy before he gets you.” That approach leads to the way people play “Spot the Christian.” We need to change the rules of the game.

Prayer (The Friday Prayer from the Book of Common Prayer)

Almighty God, whose most dear Son went not up to joy but first he suffered pain, and entered not into glory before he was crucified: Mercifully grant that we, walking in the way of the cross, may find it none other than the way of life and peace; through Jesus Christ your Son our Lord. Amen.

Steinbach Mennonite Church

14 February 2016

Text

Acts 8:27-9:8

Peter Declares That Jesus Is the Messiah

²⁷ Jesus and his disciples went on to the villages around Caesarea Philippi. On the way he asked them, “Who do people say I am?” ²⁸ They replied, “Some say John the Baptist; others say Elijah; and still others, one of the prophets.” ²⁹ “But what about you?” he asked. “Who do you say I am?”

Peter answered, “You are the Messiah.” ³⁰ Jesus warned them not to tell anyone about him.

Jesus Predicts His Death

³¹ He then began to teach them that the Son of Man must suffer many things and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests and the teachers of the law, and that he must be killed and after three days rise again. ³² He spoke plainly about this, and Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him. ³³ But when Jesus turned and looked at his disciples, he rebuked Peter. “Get behind me, Satan!” he said. “You do not have in mind the concerns of God, but merely human concerns.”

The Way of the Cross

³⁴ Then he called the crowd to him along with his disciples and said: “Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. ³⁵ For whoever wants to save their life will lose it, but whoever loses their life for me and for the gospel will save it. ³⁶ What good is it for someone to gain the whole world, yet forfeit their soul? ³⁷ Or what can anyone give in exchange for their soul? ³⁸ If anyone is ashamed of me and my words in this adulterous and sinful generation, the Son of Man will be ashamed of them when he comes in his Father’s glory with the holy angels.” 9 And he said to them, “Truly I tell you, some who are standing here will not taste death before they see that the kingdom of God has come with power.”

The Transfiguration

² After six days Jesus took Peter, James and John with him and led them up a high mountain, where they were all alone. There he was transfigured before them. ³ His clothes became dazzling white, whiter than anyone in the world could bleach them. ⁴ And there appeared before them Elijah and Moses, who were talking with Jesus. ⁵ Peter said to Jesus, “Rabbi, it is good for us to be here. Let us put up three shelters—one for you, one for Moses and one for Elijah.” ⁶ (He did not know what to say, they were so frightened.)

⁷ Then a cloud appeared and covered them, and a voice came from the cloud: “This is my Son, whom I love. Listen to him!” ⁸ Suddenly, when they looked around, they no longer saw anyone with them except Jesus.

“I Set You Apart”

Let me tell you first how I am approaching the chapel this morning. We are working with lectionary texts. Our OT reading is from Jeremiah 1, and our NT reading from 1 Corinthians 13. The gospel reading is found in Luke 4.

I am considering these texts through a specific grid today. Missio Dei comes to Providence on Thursday, and MissionFest Manitoba is in Winnipeg this coming weekend. With this in mind, I am reading these texts with missionary eyes. Since I believe that the Bible is a missionary text from beginning to end, this perspective reveals an essential strand of the passages we have read.

One word of definition: By missionary, I mean God’s activity seeking to reconcile the world to himself (as Paul puts it in 2 Corinthians 5). We participate in God’s reconciling mission as God sends us into this world as his reconciling agents.

Jeremiah 1

So we turn to Jeremiah. Jeremiah’s call is a curious mixture of the obvious and the obscure. Hear the passage:

⁴ The word of the Lord came to me, saying, ⁵ “Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I set you apart; I appointed you as a prophet to the nations.”

⁶ “Alas, Sovereign Lord,” I said, “I do not know how to speak; I am too young.” ⁷ But the Lord said to me, “Do not say, ‘I am too young.’ You must go to everyone I send you to and say whatever I command you. ⁸ Do not be afraid of them, for I am with you and will rescue you,” declares the Lord.

⁹ Then the Lord reached out his hand and touched my mouth and said to me, “I have put my words in your mouth. ¹⁰ See, today I appoint you over nations and kingdoms to uproot and tear down, to destroy and overthrow, to build and to plant.”

Note briefly that God appoints Jeremiah as prophet to the nations. To be “prophet” is to be one who speaks for God to the people. We might call the prophet, “the mouth of God”. The prophet’s characteristic beginning for each statement is, “Thus says the Lord.” 

Jeremiah responds with excuses reminiscent of Moses when he was called to go to Pharaoh and demand freedom for God’s people. God’s response here is decisive, leading to the commission of verses 9 and 10: that God has put his words in Jeremiah’s mouth (so he really is a prophet); that God will speak destruction and renewal of all nations and kingdoms through Jeremiah’s ministry. 

So much for the obvious, but there is at least one great puzzle in these verses. Jeremiah was made “prophet to the nations”. But Jeremiah spoke the great majority of his prophecies to Judah and concerning Judah. The final chapters of the book concern the nations, but in general Jeremiah is (in Wiesel’s words), “the most Jewish of the Jewish prophets.” As Brueggemann puts it: “the poet of the land par excellence.” What can it mean then to say that he is “prophet to the nations”? We will return to this question after we look at the beginning of Jesus’ ministry. 

Luke 4

²¹ He began by saying to them, “Today this scripture is fulfilled in your hearing.” ²² All spoke well of him and were amazed at the gracious words that came from his lips. “Isn’t this Joseph’s son?” they asked.

²³ Jesus said to them, “Surely you will quote this proverb to me: ‘Physician, heal yourself!’ And you will tell me, ‘Do here in your hometown what we have heard that you did in Capernaum.’” ²⁴ “Truly I tell you,” he continued, “no prophet is accepted in his hometown. ²⁵ I assure you that there were many widows in Israel in Elijah’s time, when the sky was shut for three and a half years and there was a severe famine throughout the land. ²⁶ Yet Elijah was not sent to any of them, but to a widow in Zarephath in the region of Sidon. ²⁷ And there were many in Israel with leprosy in the time of Elisha the prophet, yet not one of them was cleansed—only Naaman the Syrian.”

²⁸ All the people in the synagogue were furious when they heard this. ²⁹ They got up, drove him out of the town, and took him to the brow of the hill on which the town was built, in order to throw him off the cliff. ³⁰ But he walked right through the crowd and went on his way.

In the verses preceding, on which this passage builds, Jesus had read the daily Scripture in his home town synagogue—words from Isaiah that he says here describe his ministry. His friends’ response is curious: “All spoke well of him.” Wouldn’t that suggest a positive response? Except that they ask, “Isn’t this Joseph’s son?” Well, the answer is, “Not exactly”, but their point is something like: “Who does this local boy think he is?” 

Jesus responds with the example of Elijah going to a Gentile widow and Elisha healing a Gentile soldier, although there were many in Israel who needed their help. For some reason that is not immediately obvious to me, this response infuriated the people and they tried to throw him off a cliff. This kind of action suggests that they saw his words as blasphemy. 

Reading through the lens of missionary thinking, I want to focus on what these verses say about the mission of Jesus. There is nothing in the passage that Jesus read in the synagogue (from Isaiah 61) to suggest that the coming of God’s Spirit is specifically for Gentiles. Isaiah 60 tells of the restoration of Zion, which will be for God’s Chosen People (of course), but also for the nations that come to Zion. So I take the verses Jesus read to apply first of all to Zion (or the Jews), but also to be shared with the Gentiles.

Jesus turns this “Jew first, and also the Greeks” (in Paul’s words) into “outsiders first, who will serve as a spur to the Children of Israel.” To put it another way, Jesus makes it clear that his ministry, his call is to God’s people, and that this call includes the ultimate outsiders—Gentiles. 

Synthesis

I think that there is a principle at work here that runs throughout Scripture and throughout life. God calls people to follow him, but God’s call is not simply for the benefit of those he calls. The call always goes beyond one called to include the rest of the world. 

Think again of Jeremiah. He prophesies constantly about Judah. He prophesies to Judah. When the Babylonians offer him a chance to go to Babylon, he prefers to remain in his ruined land: Judah is his home. When some rebels in Judah offer him safety in Egypt, he turns them down only to have them carry him off to Egypt, where he dies. Clearly Jeremiah was a prophet of, for, and to Judah. But God appoints him to be a prophet to the nations. 

I think that what is going on has to do with the way that we are all interconnected. What God does with Judah, God does also with the world as a whole. God called Abraham for the sake of the nations (in Genesis 12). God called the Chosen People to be a nation of priests on behalf of the nations (in Exodus 19). Jesus came to the Jews in order to save the world. 

Elie Wiesel puts it like this: “The prophet of Israel has become the prophet to all nations. He now understands—and makes others understand—that Israel’s destiny affects everyone else’s. What happens to Judah will happen to Babylon, then Rome, and ultimately to the entire world. And so the most Jewish of the Jewish prophets becomes the most universal among them.” 

Missionary Implication

What does any of this have to do with Missio Dei? Some simple thoughts:

·        Although we do not all receive a call to speak God’s word the way that Jeremiah did, still less to set the world free the way that Jesus did, I believe that God has called each one of us to represent him in this world. Missio Dei gives you and me a chance to hear that call anew, to reflect on the call that we have heard—or to hear God’s call for the first time. The words in Jeremiah are sobering: “Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I set you apart.” This is true for all of us.

I don’t subscribe to the idea that this call is a comprehensive blueprint in which each step of our lives is laid out. Rather, God calls us, and has been calling us from the deeps of time, to follow him.

·       Your call may take you to a church in Altona or to a refugee camp in Turkey. God may lay your path through Steinbach or through Switzerland. In any case our world is interconnected, and God’s call in Winkler is part of God’s work in Ethiopia. And God’s call in Sweden is part of God’s work in Winnipeg.

For this reason I don’t pay much attention when someone says, “I am not called to be part of God’s mission.” God calls us all to be part of his mission to reconcile the world with himself.

·        The content of our call requires God’s Spirit for us to respond. Jeremiah had no ability within himself to carry out the appointed task. Jesus states explicitly, “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me.” We depend on God’s Spirit to do the work of God.

The message and ministry of reconciliation takes us into territory completely strange to the people around us. Selfishness is the natural path. God leads us into a life that is not safe (consider Jeremiah), but is truly good. Only God’s Spirit can help us walk this unnatural path. As Paul puts it in 2 Corinthians 5: “¹⁴ For Christ’s love compels us, because we are convinced that one died for all, and therefore all died. ¹⁵ And he died for all, that those who live should no longer live for themselves but for him who died for them and was raised again.” 

Conclusion

These verses link us to 1 Corinthians 13. The essential reason that God goes to so much trouble in his reconciling mission is his relentless eternal love, which he seeks to replicate within us. We act naturally out of self-interest. God is growing God’s love in us, acting out of a desire to honour God and to see all people reconciled with God. Human love is limited and sentimental; God’s love is forever, unlimited, flowing from the heart of God through you and me to God’s world all around us.

PTS Chapel: 2 February 2016
Lectionary: Jeremiah 1:4-10; 1 Corinthians 13:1-13; Luke 4:21-30