The Fig Tree (4th Day of Lent)

For the past couple of months, I've really been struggling with the tension that exists between truth and belief.  Whether I'm reading the scriptures or listening to the news, I'm having to ask myself, "Do I believe this or not, or, is this true or false?"  It's beautiful reading and reflecting on the passages for Lent, and they bring about so much thought and perspective that I didn't have before.  

In today's passage (John 1:42-51), we're painted the picture of Jesus running across a man named Philip.  He says, just like he tells his other future disciples, "Come, follow me."  We're not told that Phillip says anything back to Jesus, but instead runs to find his friend Nathanael, who, according to Jesus is an honest and upright Israelite.  Phillip exclaims to Nathanael that "I've found the One who Moses wrote about!  The One the prophets preached about!  It's Jesus, Joseph's son from Nazareth!"

Nathanael replied, "Nazareth!  You've gotta be kidding me."

Phillip responds, "I'm dead serious.  Come, and I'll show you."  

When the two men approach, Jesus looks over his shoulder at Nathanael and says, "Now there's a real Israelite.  There's not a dishonest bone in his body."  

Phillip responds, "What?  You don't know me dude."

Jesus says, "Oh, I know you.  Long before Phillip convinced you to move here, I saw you sitting under  a fig tree."

Nathanael loses it and says, "Rabbi!  Son of God and King of Israel!"  

Jesus is surprised by his response and replies, "You believe me simply because I say I saw you sitting underneath a fig tree?  You just wait.  You ain't seen nothing yet my friend."

As I was reflecting on this passage, I couldn't help but wonder what was so significant about what Jesus said to Nathanael about the fig tree.  What was so important about the statement that made Nathanael assured that Jesus was his Rabbi, Son of God, and the King of Israel?  I did some research and found the following passage from the Syriac dictionary:

It is said of Nathanael that his mother laid him under a fig tree, when the infants were slain, i.e. at Bethlehem; which, if it could be depended upon, must be to Nathanael a surprising and undeniable proof of the deity of Christ, and of his being the true Messiah; since, at that time, he was an infant of days himself, and was the person Herod was seeking to destroy, as the Messiah, and king of the Jews. . .

If this is true, Jesus connected himself with Nathanael in a way that absolutely assured Nathanael that Jesus was the real deal.  It was also common in those days for students of the Torah and Jewish apprentices to sit underneath the shade of trees to ponder the written words of Moses and prophets.  Maybe, Jesus is saying that he saw Nathanael during one of his moments of meditation.  We are not exactly sure.  

Nathanael had the opportunity to be told that Jesus had seen him.  And he was right.  Nathanael knew exactly what Jesus was talking about.  He had probably been under that fig tree many times throughout his life, maybe even every day, pondering and meditating and figuring out how to live out the scriptures.  Jesus validated his efforts.  

I think that if a man who people called Jesus showed up at the restaurant I work at, and said, "Long before you ever got this job, I saw you on the porch," I would freak out just like Nathanael did.  I want to be validated by Jesus, to know that he sees me in my alone times.  I want to know that he's paying attention.  Is he? 

The days of Lent can be very tricky.  We want to grow stronger in our faiths, but at the same time there is that constantly chirping voice in my head that says, "Dude, you're so awesome.  You should brag about what you're doing."  There's a part of me that constantly wonders, What's the point of it all?  Is Jesus even on board with this, or is this just another way I'm trying to set standards up for myself that I can't meet?  

Wouldn't it be nice to hear Jesus say, right now, "I saw you turn down that chocolate bar the other day. . .I saw you throw your guts up at CrossFit the other night. . .I watched you pray the rosary the other morning. . . I saw you make that salad last night, even when you really wanted a bacon cheeseburger." 

If Jesus were to actually say these things to us, we would probably accept him 100%, no questions asked.  Instead, "we haven't seen nothing yet".  

So, the action we can take from this is to believe that Jesus does validate us and watches us as we struggle through these things.  Do we believe that although we don't hear Jesus affirming us, he is affirming us and sticking with us through it all?  

Dwelling Places (John 1:35-42)

                      

About two months ago, I was at Church Under the Bridge with my small group.  I play the harmonica in the band there, and the group buys a ton of pizza for all the homeless folks who show up to the service.  There are usually anywhere between 50 to 150 people who show up to get some coffee, hear some encouraging words, and get some food.  After the service this particular night, I noticed a young guy - probably twenty-three years old - who was talking to one of the guys in the band.  Being around the homeless is very much a surreal event for me, because it's so hard to let go all of my attachments to life as I know it in order to see life as they know it.  It's a continuous struggle to see eye to eye and to not just show up to be the hero who serves the homeless.  My heart knows that I am no different, but nevertheless there's something inside me that resists the idea of letting myself be a friend, and not just a server.

However, something stuck me about this dude.  For one, he was the youngest guy in the crowd.  Secondly, he was able to carry a sensible conversation.  When he finished talking with my buddy, he approached me and introduced himself.  I can't remember his name, but I was interested in finding out more about him.  I wasn't used to homeless men initiating the conversations.  He had a backpack, wore blue jeans, glasses, and a good vocabulary.  He seemed like a person I could very well run into at school.  As everybody was getting in their cars to leave, I asked him, "Can I give you a ride home?"

He said, "Sure.  Nobody's ever asked to do that."

We got into the car, and as usual Kristen - my girlfriend - begins asking the questions.  I don't ask many questions.  I've always been more about being present with someone and listening than being the questioner.  Anyhow, as they talk I interject every once in awhile to make sure I'm going the right way.

"Yeah, keep going straight," he directs.

After driving for fifteen minutes, we arrive at the edge of Buffalo Bayou.  I can't find a parking spot, so I take the handicap space.  It's the only one open at the time.  I have one question for the guy, but I'm nervous about asking him.  So, I get out of the car and smoke a cigarette with him, which is always a nice icebreaker.  I finally get the courage to ask him, "I know this sounds really weird, but, can I go see where you live?"

He looks at me for a moment, and I can tell he is thinking deeply about the question.  After a few seconds of deliberation, he looks up at me and says, "Yeah.  It's a pretty good walk though."

I peek my head back into the car and let Kristen know what we're doing.  She doesn't like the idea at all, which is probably why I didn't ask him the question while we were in the car.  After considering her reasoning, I decide that it'd be best to postpone this opportunity for another night.  I let him know that I won't be joining him tonight, but that I'd love to the next time I see him.

Even though I didn't end up getting to see where this guy put his head at night, there was a very valid question inside of me that needed to be answered.  Are you like me?  I wanted to know that the guy laid his head down on a pillow just like I do, that he had a blanket like I do, and that he found rest like I do. It's common for me to go through a whole night of Church Under the Bridge with the mindset of these folks aren't like me.  There's something innately human about dwelling places.  We all sleep and we all wake up somewhere.  I wanted to find some semblance with my homeless friend.

In the passage for Lent today, we are told that John the Baptist sees Jesus walking nearby and says, "Here he is, God's Passover Lamb."  There are two disciples with John.  When they here his declaration, they are intrigued and go to meet Jesus.  As soon as they approach him, they ask a question that seems very odd the first time through.  They ask, "Where are you staying?"  Essentially, they want to see for themselves where he lays his head.  They want proof that he is like them.  We're not told the details of where Jesus was staying, but we're told that once Andrew (one of the disciples) confirmed that Jesus was staying somewhere, he immediately ran to get his brother Simon - who gets renamed Peter.

I believe as Andrew was following Jesus to the place he was staying, he was asking himself, Are you like me Jesus?  Although there is something very divine about this fellow Jesus, Andrew knows there has to be a humanness to him as well.  That is what he's after, possibly more than anything else, which begs the question, "How do we find the humanness of Jesus?"  He's not with us like we was with Andrew.  Yet, we have this question continually reverberating in our heart.  Are you like me Jesus?

As we go out today, may we constantly be on the lookout for the dwelling places of Jesus.  Every conversation, every event, may we look for the humanity of Jesus.  As we observe this third day of Lent, may we reflect on the ever-searching question that lingers through every prayer, interaction, and community gathering:  Are you like me Jesus?  Amen

Lambs and Doves (John 1:29-34)

    I was talking to my boss the other day about some theological questions.  He had opened up with a question that caught me off-guard.  He asked, "What are your views on masturbation?"  I paused for a second, wondering what kind of trap he was setting up for me to play into.  After thinking for a couple of seconds, I said, "I think it can be a healthy sexual practice."  He looked at me for a second, and said, "I'm still on the fence."  The conversation would have been really awkward had it stopped right there, but it went much further and we entered into the issue of sexual immorality and what the Bible says about it.  We disagree with each other about a lot of stuff, but on one thing we absolutely agree - that we need Jesus.  As he was bringing up questions of sin and breaking the law of the old Testament, I couldn't help but think of the way that we Christians sometimes live Jewishly.  Now, don't get me wrong.  I believe the Jewish traditions are beautiful and show a deep, mystical reverence and worship of God.  Because of Jewish law, we're able to see much deeper into the mysteries of Jesus and the symbolism that occurs throughout the new testament scriptures.

     In the case of the gospel of John, we are painted a picture of the Jordan River.  There are probably hundreds of people standing on the shoreline, watching and listening to John talk about things they've never heard before.  John says that "God's passover lamb is here," and he mentions that he saw "the spirit come and stay on him."  The lamb and the dove play very significant roles in the life of the Jew.  In the sacrificial traditions of Jewish life, lambs are used for absolution offerings.  Absolution offering is required for forgiveness of sins.  The dove was used as a whole burnt offering.  The Torah tells us that the aromas of the whole burnt offerings are very pleasing to God.  Also, we remember the story of Noah, and how he used a dove to scope out the prospects of dry land during the days of the flood.  Noah sent the dove out to find life in a dead world.  The significance behind the words that John uses to introduce Jesus are very important to the Christian.

    The reason I say that many of us Christians live more Jewish than Christian is that we forget what the lamb and the dove represent in regards to Jesus entering the world.  If we could have had a video camera rolling tape among the crowd standing on the edge of the Jordan, we probably would have caught the faces of a people who were in absolutely in awe of a new concept that involved language very familiar to them.  What John was saying was this:  "A man is here who is taking on the role of the sacrificial lamb.  He forgives not only your sins, but the sins of the world!  The dove is whole and alive, and has found a dwelling place.  You don't have to scrub yourself clean any longer from your sins!"

     As a recovered alcoholic, and a Christian, I know all too well what it's like to call myself a Christian but to have a Jewish understanding.  My sins were many and my sacrificial offerings were not animals, but practices.  It was a routine for me to close the bar down at 2:00 a.m., pass out, and then wake up religiously at 4:30 and head to my quiet place to use the scriptures as my absolution - or my dove offering.  I would pray for everyone I could think of, and memorize one passage of scripture before I left for work.  In this way, I would be atoned for my sins the night before and would be safeguarded throughout my day at work.  I was a proclaimed Christian living the life of a Jew.  I knew much about what Christ said, but knew nothing of what Christ did.  The Sermon on the Mount became my battle cry, but the cross of Christ was a "nice notion."

     The story of the lamb and the dove have much significance to all of us.  No matter who we are, we know what it's like to screw up, feel bad about it, and devote time and energy to scrubbing ourselves clean from our mistakes.  In other words, we all practice at some time or another, rituals and sacrifices in the hope of wholeness.  I believe that John the Baptist is proclaiming here that there is another way.  A man has shown up who has become our sacrifice.  He has become our lambs, doves, apologies, firm resolutions, and promises to never to (fill in the blank) again.  As we go out today, we remember who Christ represents.  One of the phrases I've learned to use that helps me out a lot is, "I'm okay with not being okay."  Do we believe this?  As we screw up today, may we not try to scrub ourselves clean.  Rather, may we be pointed to the One who has already forgiven and scrubbed us clean.  May we be okay with not being okay today.  Amen.

Those Criminals (Belated Post for Ash Wednesday)

Hey fam!!  For Lent, I am following the lectionary as part of my morning meditation, and then asking God to reveal to me something to write about pertaining to day's passage.  I can't guarantee that I'll be on top of it all forty days but I'm gonna try.  This first post is what I wrote this morning (Ash Wednesday morning).  I thought this could be a way I could contribute to the group's lenten experience.  See ya' tomorrow!!

When I was in junior high, I would pride myself on not being like the kids who cussed and talked about sexual things in the hallway.  When I was in high school, I thought highly of myself for not being one of those students who did drugs or listened to Marilyn Manson.  When I was in college, I hated myself and I wasn't content with being myself.  Over the last few years, I've prided myself on not being like those religious folks who see everything as black or white.

I grew up in Pasadena in a Southern Baptist church.  One day, a bunch of folks from the church went to a local hospital that was known to practice abortion.  We each carried signs that said things like, "Stop killing babies," and "Abortion is Murder."  Inwardly, I was developing my own spiritual protest. Thank you God I'm not like them.

Jesus gives a parable about two men who going to the temple one day.  One is a Pharisee, who wraps his life around how well he keeps up the religious rules.  The other is a tax collector, or nowadays, an IRS agent.  The Pharisee probably sits on the front row, making sure the priest can see him.  He probably makes sure his body language is seen by everyone around him as he thanks God that he's not like robbers, or crooks, or adulterers.  He tells God of how unlike those sinners, he fasts throughout the week and tithes off of all his income.

The IRS agent is sitting off in the shadows of the temple.  He keeps to himself, face in hands, knowing that he has pissed a lot of people off this week.  He's sincere and doesn't care about who's sitting in the pews around him.  He may have even seized the property of someone sitting in the same room at some time in the last year.  He's despised by most.

Jesus tells us that the IRS agent asks God for mercy and admits that he's a sinner.  The Pharisee doesn't need mercy and prides himself on not being a sinner.  Jesus says that the IRS agent walked home from the temple "made right with God."  Jesus closes by saying that when we walk around thinking we're better than everyone else, we fall flat on our faces; but when we are content with being simply ourselves, we become more than ourselves.

Which of these two men am I?  I wish I could say that I'm the IRS agent who's sitting sincerely with his face in his hands, kneeling at the feet of mercy.  The fact is that I have prejudice in my life.  While I don't look down on the "commoners" like the Pharisee did, I think I'm spiritually better than most religious nuts.  I still wait for God to pat me on the back for not being one of the pious Sunday preachers who gets his kick out of telling others why they are wrong.  Truth be told, when I look down at anybody I will fall flat on my face.  There's no telling how long it will take, but I will eventually slam my nose into the ground.

Basically, I'm still not completely content with simply being myself.  That being said, I'm selling myself short.  When I carry prejudice toward anyone, I'm actually seeing the parts of me that I'm not content with.

If you've paid any attention to the news lately, you know about the former police officer who shot and killed two LAPD officers last week.  He's been on the run, and the police believe they've surrounded him in a cabin that "mysteriously" caught on fire.  A charred body is lying in that cabin, and the police believe it is him.

How many of us paying attention to this story have thought to ourselves, "God, thank you that I'm not that guy."  I've found it thrilling to watch the play-by-play of this story.  Last night, I couldn't help myself from reloading the Google News webpage every minute or so to see the latest details of the story.  I find the story thrilling because I have completely separated myself from the likes of this deranged man.  When stories like this come out, the suspect becomes my scapegoat.  I can think to myself as I'm watching the sins unfold, Thank you God I'm not like this criminal.  As long as there's somebody out there worse than I am, I can rest assured that my devout religious practices and prayers will hold me up a little while longer.  I don't need mercy right now.

Thankfully, I'm getting a little better at admitting how bad I really am.  Prejudice has been a part of my life for way too long, and it's gotten to the point where I realize that it just doesn't do for me what I once thought it did.  It doesn't bring me peace, it only brings resentment.  While I think I'm better than someone else, on the inside I'm afraid of who I really am and who I want to be.  Like the IRS agent pleading in the temple, I am in deep need of mercy.  I'm a self-centered, egotistical, lust-filled, porno-watching, self-pitied sinner, in need of mercy.  There's no amount of prayer or ministry that will fill my need for the mercy that only God can give.

If I can be okay with not being okay, I can become content by simply being myself.  And, when I become content with myself, I become more than myself.  I've let go of me just enough that a power much greater than myself has some room to work.  There's nothing better than contentment, especially for those of us who are living paycheck to paycheck, struggling through the fear of not knowing what we want to do, or how we're going to get there.  We have the opportunity to be content still, and it's a peace that fills every crack of our broken lives.  Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on us sinners.

Lent Mindset

If there is one thing I have learned from my Lent experiences, is that you have to go into it with the right mindset. I have included a few things that I would hope you would incorporate into how you view Lent:

1. It's not all about you. It's about allowing God to work through you.
2. You don't have to like it. 
3. You will do it (daily) whether you want to or not or if it's convenient.
4. Set goals. Set them in areas of your spiritual walk, service to others, physical fitness accountability, and friends/family.
5. Your goals should be written down but don't need to be.
6. Set goals you can accomplish easily.
7. Most importantly, set goals that will stretch you. Do things you know are correct, but they "aren't you", "not your passion", piss you off, make you late for things, or, my favorite, something that scares the crap out of you.
8. Share your goals with people, everyone. They're your accountability partners. Don't look for an enabler to coddle you and say it's ok to stay the way you are. If you're perfect, then I guess it's ok.
9. Expect to grow. Whether it takes the 40 days of Lent or longer, expect it.
10. Don't stop once Lent is over. Look around you and set a benchmark to grow again from his point. Don't go backwards.
11. I love this one. Never stop challenging those things you believe. Stand it up next to what Jesus taught his disciples. Look for your reasoning for why you believe certain things. Play devil's advocate and force yourself to see things from a point of view you may never have considered. If you believe the same thing when you're done, great. If you don't, great.
12. You don't always have to believe something to learn from it.
13. Commit yourself to be willing to put yourself last. 
14. Talk about your struggles with your Journey through Lent with folks. The words "me too" can be just what you need to hear.
15. It's only 40 days.
16. Don't worry about looking at yourself daily to see how much you've changed. You can do that at the end of the 40 days. Instead, think about the lives you have impacted and lives that will change through the power that Christ instills in you through your sacrifice of yourself for His kingdom.
17. Be honest with yourself.
18. This may somewhat contradict #4, #5, and #6, you may not have a goal. Don't set one. Instead, throw yourself a Lent tradition of "giving something up" and see if God opens your eyes up that way. You can always add goals as you go.
19. Give up something you cling to that is hindering your walk with Christ.
20. Add something to your to daily walk with Christ that will allow you to walk a little closer to Him.

I probably have more, but that's a good start.

Hating Lent,

Jody

Sometimes we need to hear it

The conversation in my circle of friends recently has revolved around our calling as followers of Jesus to love people, even when the circumstances are hard and the people are difficult.  This week it was put in the context of the 1 Corinthians "love passage".  You know the one you hear at almost every wedding you've ever gone to.

 Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.  It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.  Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.  It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.  Love never fails.  (1Corinthians 13: 4-8, NIV)

These words seem easier for us to understand at a wedding, when the emotion of love is so evident that it is almost tangible.  Before the realization that loving people, spouses or anybody for that matter, can be hard.  Once it gets hard to love someone, for whatever reason, these words that Paul shares with us about how to love become that much more profound and challenging.  Saying love is patient and love is kind is easy when you are still in the "I can't spend a second without you" phase or the "we should be best friends" phase.  But those words are much more difficult when you think about that co-worker or classmate that is annoying, rude, loud, selfish, awkward; or in other words just plain difficult to love.  However, that is exactly what we are called to do, love them.  This is a much needed lesson for us to learn, and a necessary lifestyle for us to choose.

But there is something key in the midst of this lesson we cannot forget.  We are able to love others who are hard to love, because we know that we are at times very hard to love, and yet God loves us.  Not to get bogged down in semantics, but we cannot lose sight of this point.  God does not love us because we are able to love others.  We are able to love others because God loves us.

The reality is, sometimes we cannot believe that this is true.  We cannot believe that in the midst of who we are or what we have done that God still loves us.  Sometimes, we do God's job for him and judge ourselves as not worthy.  There are other times we cannot see God's love for whatever reason, whether that is our own busyness or disconnectedness.  Our mind gets so cluttered with to-do lists, and responsibilities, and errands, which eventually our soul becomes clogged and makes the presence of God's love a distant and foggy idea as opposed to the reality that we once knew.  Then, to make matters worse, once we realize any of these things have happened in our lives, we can become even more judgmental of ourselves all over again for letting these things overtake our ability to live in the midst of God's love.  And it becomes a vicious cycle.

In 1 John 4:8, it states that "God is love."  Not that God is like love, or God loves, or God is lovely; but God IS love.  Being a math teacher, I work with the transitive property all of the time.  You know it too, if a = b, and b = c, then a = c.  With that thought in mind, what if we looked back at the Corinthians passage and instead of reading the word love (a word that has been watered down in our modern English language) we replaced it with God.  It would read:

God is patient, God is kind. He does not envy, He does not boast, He is not proud.  He does not dishonor others, He is not self-seeking, He is not easily angered, He keeps no record of wrongs.  God does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.  He always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.  God never fails.  (1Corinthians 13: 4-8, "remix")

In those moments where we have shut off our ability to experience God's love, or gotten to a place where we feel we do not deserve God's love, or have allowed all of the distractions of life to drown out God's love; maybe we should read these words about God's patience, and kindness, and inevitable endurance, and repeat them to ourselves and realize that these words are just as true for us as they are for the people we have a difficult time loving.  We are called to love, even when it is hard.  We are called to show people that God’s love is patient, kind, true, and enduring.  But, how could we ever show anybody that all of these aspects of God's love are true for them if we do not believe they are true for ourselves?

We Could Sponsor a Child as a Community

Jeff asked us to share what we would like to do as a group to enter in to the hells on earth...my first thought was how cool it would be if our MC sponsored a child.

 I am not sure how many people are in our MC total, but if we sponsored a child through World Vision, it would cost each individual or couple no more than $2 a month.  If extra is given, we could use it to give that child extra gifts.  Everyone could write letters and bring photos occasionally to MC and I could mail them.

Alternatively, if we want to we could sponsor a child through Make Way Partners.  Those are children in orphanages in Sudan...in Darfur, in the currently-being-bombed Nuba mountains.  Those full sponsorships are more...$115, I think.  I will bring picture folders and information on Thursday.

Kim