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Tag Archives: Lent
Who was Jesus anyway?
It’s a question Christians ask, intentionally or unintentionally, every time we open up the Bible and look at the texts that we call our scriptures. There are a wide variety of stories about Jesus in the Gospels, and they are our primary place to wonder and seek insight. Different theologians, such as Marcus Borg, have attempted to apply a kind of historical criticism, asking about the context and possible authors… or even how the gospels were compiled together. Others look at the gospels through specific lens, for instance, exploring the roles of women, the place of the poor and people on the fringe, or even Jesus in relation to the Roman empire. Still a bunch of Christians look at it spiritually, inviting God to speak through the text as they pray and ponder a particular passage many times in one sitting. All of these methods, each with its strength and weakness, are an attempt to answer the who and what questions about the one we call Savior – who was he, and what was he about?
Marcus Borg, who wrote the great book, Meeting Jesus Again for the First Time, has attempted to answer this question by listing a few sort of broad roles that would have been familiar to the contemporaries and culture of Jesus’ day. One of those is the role of a mystic. A mystic is quickly defined as a spirit person, someone who experiences deep oneness with God or the divine. Wherever Jesus went, he was open and in tune with the moving spirit of God. He saw possibilities where others saw reality. He seemed to hear God speaking to him and directing his actions.
The image above is a depiction of Jesus as a guru from the Hindu faith, a physical embodiment of the divine. While the Hindus respect Jesus, they don’t put him in the same place as the church does, as the sole Son of God. Still, I like the image because it reminds us of Jesus’ Otherness. One who is deeply connected to God does not usually play by the same rules that the rest of us do. I don’t mean like laws of nature, though Jesus certainly did some crazy physics-bending actions (like walking on water, etc.). Think of how Jesus is repeatedly going off to pray, alone and in silence, or how he senses when his spiritual energy leaves him by a touch from a stranger. Sometimes, Jesus does more by saying nothing at all, like when he scribbles on the ground while a crowd waits for the go ahead to stone and adulterer. Or when he leads his disciples into the mountains to a “thin place” where life beyond and this world seem to merge.
Jesus’ mystical quality put him in touch with a different rhythm and set of values than the world around him. This could be infuriating, but it’s also immensely attractive. Why else do so many people go camping or hiking each year but to get away from our normal rhythms of our lives? Why do we seek out spiritual retreats but to retune ourselves into the presence of God at the center of all things? And if Jesus had not had this deep sense of oneness with God, would his ministry have been possible?
Jesus famously said in Matthew 12:50 – “Whoever does the will of my Father in heaven is my brother and sister and mother.”
How else do we hear someone’s will but by listening, paying attention, and communing with them? How then will you use this Lent as a time to restoke that deep sense of attentiveness to God’s call within you? Is Jesus calling each of us to be a mystic of our own?
We’ll be discussing these questions and more this Sunday at the Table as we explore further Jesus as a mystic.
Are you ready to lament?
Dictionary.com says that lament means:
to feel, show, or express grief, sorrow, or regret.
On his blog, Greg Stevenson, a professor of religion and Greek, poses a difficult question (which I’m paraphrasing) – why are our hymnals and song books overflowing with happy psalms? Why has the church neglected the songs of despair, anger, and sadness that we find throughout the Bible?
My theory (and I would love to hear others) is that lament psalms are about brutal honesty before God. Despite our advertising slogans, we in the church have never been very comfortable with brutal honesty when it comes to our relationship with God. Because brutal honesty means admitting that we don’t have it all together, that a relationship with God can often be rocky and tumultuous, laden with confusion and, sometimes, even anger. Communicating this to the outside world is not good evangelism . . . or is it?
You know, I think he is on to something. We live in a materialistic culture that is preoccupied with happiness and success. Likewise, we are tempted to gravitate toward a faith that is about those same values. In that kind of culture, there is no place for a faith that isn’t about be showered with blessings and given a life free of trouble. If your prayers aren’t answered or your life is beset with challenge, maybe you’re doing it wrong.
And yet, the bible stories reveal time and time again people who get frustrated with God. Why is this happening to me? Why can the world be such a terrible place? Why won’t You heal my loved one? Why don’t You answer my prayers?
If we truly believe that God is big enough to provide for us and save us, then surely God can take those kinds of questions. Surely, God can receive the pain and woe we carry. Surely, God desires our honesty, even if we are in a dark place.
Starting this Sunday, the Table will be learning how to lament. Yeah, it seems like a dreary kind of topic, but it might just be a kind of prayer and conversation with God we need in a world that does seem filled with violence and brimming with corruption. There will be experiences of hope intermingled throughout our journey, but we will be learning to sing new songs that express our longing for a better world.
Along the way, we are going to have some great music too, including a few bands that you normally don’t hear “in” church.
Let’s cry out to God together in this season for hope, peace, health, and abundant life.