Love Redefines Power and Dominion

In fairy tales, kings live in a castle, usually located on a hill (a safe place), surrounded by a moat for the utmost protection for the king and family. Modern political leaders often have more technologically advanced means to provide a similar level of safety against would-be attackers. Because of these preconceived notions of what kings are, hearers will need to be reminded that Jesus redefined the title “king.” The appointed psalm says, “The waters have lifted up, O Lord, . . . the waters have lifted up their pounding waves. Mightier than the sound of many waters, mightier than the breakers of the sea, mightier is the Lord who dwells on high” (Ps. 93:3-4). While a king might have the ability to sail atop a roaring, chaotic sea, Christ the King is one who stills the waves (Mark 4:35-41).

  

In John’s gospel for November 24, 2024 - Christ the King Sunday - Jesus says “For this I was born, and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth” (John 18:37). Perhaps the ‘this’ Jesus is referring to is a motioning with his hands to the cross, the most clear demonstration of God’s love for humanity and the truest definition of kingship. Jesus redefines what power is and what people think God’s power looks like to fight evil and suffering in the world. Jesus does not resist the way of the cross with force.

Rather than protecting himself from harm in any way, the vulnerable King Jesus dares to demonstrate God’s love for all people. Jesus does not run from pain, anguish, or suffering. Rather, the risen Jesus, “the ruler of the kings of the earth” (Rev. 1:5), rushes to the places of disaster and suffering in the world. Jesus goes where storms are ravaging and have ravaged lives and brings life and calm into the chaos.

From Sundays and Seasons

Who then is this? Our only help.

As the disciples set out together in the boat with the sleeping Jesus, a great windstorm arose so that the boat became swamped.

  

As we set out in mission together in the ship of Christ’s church, how many storms arise! The elements of chaos still seem to wreak havoc in our lives, communities, and in the church—and we become terrified. Though Christ is present the disciples and we ourselves begin to doubt his care and power: “Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?” His presence seems far too weak to help us, though it is exactly in this vulnerable weakness that Christ shows his almighty power.

   

Jesus wakes at the disciples’ cries and rebukes the wind and waves—they are no match for his command. The terrifying calm that follows demonstrates his divine power over all the chaos that continually threatens us. And we find ourselves awe-struck before the living God who has met us in our weakness and yet overcome it.

   

The Christ who sleeps in the boat is the same Christ who hangs on the cross, seemingly helpless. Yet the helpless one is none other than the all-powerful Lord God. “Who then is this?” but the Lord of all! The God who in the beginning brought order to the chaotic face of the deep now in Christ brings peace as we face the storm. So why are we afraid? Have we still no faith in this helpless Lord who is our only help?

from Sundays and Seasons

Baptismal Water Is Thicker than Blood

Then his mother and his brothers came; and standing outside, they sent to him and called him. A crowd was sitting around him; and they said to him, “Your mother and your brothers and sisters are outside, asking for you.” And he replied, “Who are my mother and my rothers?” And looking at those who sat around him, he said, “Here are my mother and my brothers! Whoever does the will of God is my brother and sister and mother.”

Mark 20:31-35

Many, perhaps most, subcultures in North America affirm the belief that “blood is thicker than water.” Even when our commitment to family is too often served through hand-wringing sentiment over the so-called decline of the family or pandered to by politicians seeking to prove their “family values” credentials, we like to think of ourselves as loyal to our own kin. Family comes first! In the gospel, Jesus sharply, alarmingly, contradicts the norm; he snubs his nuclear family, his blood.

  

We discover that Jesus’ family is not defined by objective or biological categories—DNA tests, adoption records, or custody papers—but rather by function: Jesus’ family consists of those whom God has called into mission and are engaged in that mission.

Bringing a child of God from birth to maturity of faith requires many things, among them food, shelter, new birth, story, discipline, catechism, and an enduring hope in the one who raised Jesus from the dead. It is a joy to be celebrated when these gifts are provided by those who live in one’s own household—parents, grandparents, extended families. But Jesus reminds us (with an echo from Paul) that even when those nearest to us thwart God’s purposes, we “do not lose heart” but trust that God will call and create a household “not made with hands,” where God’s purposes for us will be nurtured and we will become like the one who “does the will of God.”

There is a strong challenge here to Christian communities to keep their focus on the mission of God and not be tempted to confuse God’s mission with what’s “best” for nations or communities or (even) nuclear families.

From Sundays and Seasons

The Holy Spirit’s Groaning

The Holy Spirit....a midwife?

Few sounds capture a groan like birth pangs. It is the raw sound of life and birth as well as of pain. It is the guttural desire for the end of the waiting for what has been anticipated and desired. For any who have been present through such an event, it is difficult to ever forget. It is in equal parts beautiful, stunning, and holy, as well as raw, painful, and horrific. “Creation has been groaning in labour pains until now; and not only the creation, but we ourselves . . . groan inwardly while we wait for adoption,” writes Paul to the church in Rome. He describes aptly that painful wail of our souls for the redemption we know so well, the restoration of all things promised in Christ. As Lutherans we know this all too well as the “now but not yet” proposition of our faith. We have been told of the return of the Messiah. We prepare for this coming and see how the whole of creation groans for her own restoration. We join this creation waiting for our own hearts, souls, and bodies to be restored. We know this is coming and as in pains of labour groan for this reality. While we wait, we are given a midwife, a Spirit of God to join us in our waiting for the birth of a new world and a new reality. This gift is given this day, the day of Pentecost. May the Spirit join us in our cry to God, eagerly awaiting the begotten, the Son of God, Jesus.

from Sundays & Seasons

Move In Day

Each fall is the perennial move-in day on or near college and university campuses. Legions of parents descend with carloads that include tiny refrigerators, Ikea furniture, electronics, area rugs, and posters. They unload the one they have birthed, raised, nursed, instructed, and reproved for eighteen or so, to prepare him or her for independence. Then, just like that, the parents are gone, perhaps wiping away tears. Perhaps their final words were ones they hoped would stick. “Study well.” “Make good choices.” “Watch your time.” “Don’t stay up too late.” But in every parental heart is a simple prayer: “O God, be with them.”

     

In the final portion of Jesus’ great prayer for the disciples (John 17:6-19), he entreats the Father to love and protect the disciples as a parent who knows their time for direct supervision is coming to an end. In this preparation we hear his pleading like a loving parent who wants the best for the ones he has sheltered, taught, loved, reproved, and sent. Jesus begs for God to hold them in the truth that is to do as they have been taught, to follow the model established for them. Jesus asked for the disciples to be protected and surrounded so that they may not be lost. He prays for the disciples to have their joy completed, and to live what they have seen and understood from their rabbi. May we, like the disciples, live in the truth of the gospel, love as we have been loved, have our joy complete, and, above all, know that God is with us.

from Sundays & Seasons

Gospel: John 17:6-19

In this reading the church hears Jesus’ words on the night before his death—his prayer for his disciples and for all who would believe in him through their words.

[Jesus prayed:] “I have made your name known to those whom you gave me from the world. They were yours, and you gave them to me, and they have kept your word. Now they know that everything you have given me is from you; for the words that you gave to me I have given to them, and they have received them and know in truth that I came from you; and they have believed that you sent me. I am asking on their behalf; I am not asking on behalf of the world, but on behalf of those whom you gave me, because they are yours. All mine are yours, and yours are mine; and I have been glorified in them. And now I am no longer in the world, but they are in the world, and I am coming to you. Holy Father, protect them in your name that you have given me, so that they may be one, as we are one. While I was with them, I protected them in your name that you have given me. I guarded them, and not one of them was lost except the one destined to be lost, so that the scripture might be fulfilled. But now I am coming to you, and I speak these things in the world so that they may have my joy made complete in themselves. I have given them your word, and the world has hated them because they do not belong to the world, just as I do not belong to the world. I am not asking you to take them out of the world, but I ask you to protect them from the evil one. They do not belong to the world, just as I do not belong to the world. Sanctify them in the truth; your word is truth. As you have sent me into the world, so I have sent them into the world. And for their sakes I sanctify myself, so that they also may be sanctified in truth.”