"And he set his face toward Jerusalem"

 Luke 9:51-62 (NRSVu)

⁵¹ When the days drew near for him to be taken up, he set his face to go to Jerusalem. ⁵² And he sent messengers ahead of him. On their way they entered a village of the Samaritans to prepare for his arrival, ⁵³ but they did not receive him because his face was set toward Jerusalem. ⁵⁴ When his disciples James and John saw this, they said, “Lord, do you want us to command fire to come down from heaven and consume them?”^[a] 55 But he turned and rebuked them. ⁵⁶ Then^[b] they went on to another village.

 ⁵⁷ As they were going along the road, someone said to him, “I will follow you wherever you go.” ⁵⁸ And Jesus said to him, “Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.” ⁵⁹ To another he said, “Follow me.” But he said, “Lord, first let me go and bury my father.” ⁶⁰ And Jesus^[c] said to him, “Let the dead bury their own dead, but as for you, go and proclaim the kingdom of God.” ⁶¹ Another said, “I will follow you, Lord, but let me first say farewell to those at my home.” ⁶² And Jesus said to him, “No one who puts a hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God.”

This is the gospel lesson for Sunday, June 29 according to the Revised Common Lectionary.  Much of what is in this pericope is familiar to us.  But we frequently cherry-pick this passage and read fragments rather than the whole.  The fragments can be confusing.  A little clarity comes from considering the section as a whole.

Consider the several folks that Jesus encounters here.  There are the people of a  village in Samaria.  The text says that these Samaritans wouldn’t receive Jesus because “his face was set toward Jerusalem.”  That is an oddity, because it is unlikely that a Samaritan village would receive any Jew who was passing through their territory: “Jews have no dealings with Samaritans” -- John 4:9.

On the road, Jesus encounters someone who proclaims, “I will follow you wherever you go!”  Jesus dismisses him.  The reason is a bit unclear.  Jesus goes on to say, “Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.”  If the volunteer is looking for a kind of permanence, he will not find it here.

Finally, there is a pair of people whom Jesus summons, and each one has a delaying response: “Lord, first let me go and bury my father.”  Another said, “I will follow you, Lord, but let me first say farewell to those at my home.”  Jesus then apparently moves on down the road and does not wait for these folks.

So, a village that says “No” on the basis of Jesus’ motive; a person who seeks to follow and is denied; and a brace of people who receive a call, but who make excuses.  What do these have in common.  And what do we take away from these seemingly disparate reactions to Jesus?”

Remember how this reading begins: “When the days drew near for him to be taken up, he set his face to go to Jerusalem.”  That is no casual introductory statement.  It is in many ways the hinge upon which the entirety of Luke’s gospel depends.  We have had the infancy narrative and the record of the Galilean ministry.  But here, Jesus leaves home and hearth and familiar territory behind in order to travel to Jerusalem.  This is no trivial preliminary to a random road trip.  “When the days drew near for him to be taken up…” is an indication that Jesus intentionally embraced God’s plan, and that Jesus was now ready to set that plan in motion.  To go to Jerusalem is to go to Gethsemane, to the Judgement Hall of Pilate, to Calvary, to the Tomb.

One of the things that the other players in this little drama don’t get is that Jesus us going to Jerusalem to die.  The Samaritans may disagree with his choice of destination.  After all, Jerusalem is the seat of the powers that have rejected Samaritans for generations.  The person who would follow Jesus wherever he goes could not possibly intuit that Jesus was travelling to his time of sacrifice.  Those who gave a conditional “yes” to Jesus’ summons have no idea that they were delaying accompanying Jesus to a history-making moment over lesser priorities.

This entire reading is really a response to its opening line.  If Jesus is simply wandering across the landscape, then these encounters are trivial.  If these events are commentary on Jesus’ impending sacrifice, from our vantage point we see how short-sighted are the story’s participants.  

As modern-day disciples we see everything in light of the death (and resurrection, and ascension) of Jesus.  Our perceptions, our life choices, reflect our response the Lordship of Jesus Christ and his call on our lives.  Our preconceptions, our ill-considered thoughts and our mundane distractions can stand in the way of our following Jesus to the one destination that has any significance at all.

The peace of the Lord be with you.

The Colors of Advent

 

The liturgical colors that churches employ in the observance of Advent have become a point of contention in recent times.  Through the history of the church violet (or purple) has been a traditional color for the season.  In times when the church emphasized self-denial, fasting or penitence (as Advent was seen as a reflection of Lent, preparing for Christmas as Lent prepares for Easter in the theologies of the day) black was employed.  There is a long history of the use of blue in Advent, although the widespread display of this color waxed and waned through the centuries.  Blue is a color associated with Mary the Mother of Jesus in church iconography.  It is a representation of hope in the color palate of Christian symbolism.  The use of blue is enjoying a resurgence in recent years.  This is due in part to the re-defining of some Advent theologies by the Second Vatican Council in 1963.  Communions outside the Catholic community have adapted the Roman position and have embraced much of the current Advent thinking of Catholicism.  So, the fabric hangings that adorn our communion tables, lecterns and pulpits are blue in more and more churches.  Likewise, the stoles and other vestments that clergy wear during worship are more frequently blue in contemporary settings.

The color of candles in Advent wreathes is far from consistent.  Different geographical settings have (as might be expected) their own practices.  Northern European influence often results in candles that are all red on the outer ring of the wreath.  Many congregations that have recently established traditions use three violet (purple) candles and one rose candle (that is frequently misidentified as “pink.”)  Those not familiar with traditional church practices will often light the three violet candles on the first three Sundays of the season, and then light the fourth – rose – candle as a kind of “transitional” color between the solemn hues of violet and the joyful colors that we associate with Christmas.

In fact, the tradition of the rose candle is that it is lighted on the third Sunday of Advent.  You have to stay with me here: the lighting of the rose color on that day goes back to the time when Advent was thought to mirror Lent.  The third Sunday in Lent is Gaudete Sunday (GAW-di-tay).  It is a Latin term that we translate “rejoice.”  It is the initial word in the Catholic liturgy for that day.  On this occasion in medieval Catholicism, the Pope would give a golden rose to the favorites in his court.  So, on the third Sunday of Lent, the gift of a rose gave rise to the use of rose-colored fabrics in worship on that day as a kind of break in the solemnity of Lent.  As Lent influenced the observance of Advent, the rose color came to be associated with the third Sunday   of Advent.  Thus, the contemporary appearance of a rose candle in our Advent wreathes.   As this rationale has come to be rejected, a fourth violet candle frequently replaces the rose candle. 

Other wreathes use four blue candles, employing the imagery of that color that is also used in paraments and vestments.  The use of three blue and one rose candle has nothing historically or theologically to recommend it.

The First Sunday of Advent

We come to the beginning of a new year.  Not the calendar year, of course.  2019 will be upon us quickly enough.  December 2 marks the beginning of the Christian Liturgical Year.  The Western Church reckons time a little differently than secular observers.  So, we start a new year four Sundays before December 25 – Christmas.

 Advent literally means “to come” (from the Latin advenio).  The season is a many-layered period.  The church, all at the same time, anticipates the physical birth of Jesus, placing him in time and space.  The community of faith also begins the yer-long observance of the coming of the Savior of the world into human history.  In addition, believers look forward to the return of the exalted Son of Man in glory.  Lawrence Hull Stookey (Calendar: Christ’s Time for the Church, Nashville, Abingdon 1996) observes, “What may seem to be an anomaly is a very important theological point.  The beginning pf the liturgical year takes our thinking to the very end of things.” (p. 121)

 The friction in this time is that this is not the “Christmas Season.”  The retailers have been huckstering STUFF since the Fifth of July.  But the church does things differently.  Advent is a time of introspection.  It is a time of expectancy.  It is a time of not getting in a hurry.

 Time will pass quickly enough.  I look to enjoy the anticipation.

The Feast of St. Andrew

Today is the Feast of St. Andrew.  Andrew was one of the first Apostles -- along with his brother Peter --  called by Jesus.  He is the Patron Saint of Scotland. Tradition holds that he was one of the more widely-traveled of the Apostles. His evangelistic ministry took him to Greece, where in c. 60 A.D. he was martyred in Patras.  He asked to be crucified on an X-shaped cross (known as the St. Andrew’s Cross or Saltire) rather than a traditional cross, as he did not feel worthy to die on the same cross as Jesus.

St. Andrew did not visit Scotland, but several legends associate him with that country.  One such tradition says that  St. Regulus brought the relics of Andrew with him when he was shipwrecked on the Scottish shore.  This day is celebrated throughout the church, with great fanfare in some areas.

St. Andrew's Day is the very last day of the liturgical year.  Tomorrow is the first day of Advent, and a new cycle begins.

Tennessee-West Kentucky Conference offers seasonal Bible study

The Tennessee-West Kentucky Conference of The United Methodist Church is providing a Bible study for its members.  The title of the work is "Abide in Christ."  It is available as a free download here.   The study has provisions for either individual or small group study.

Abide in Christ is based on the Farewell Discourse of Jesus found in John 15-17.  This body of material contains Jesus' final words of encouragement and instruction to his disciples before his arrest.This passage contains the longest teaching by Jesus in all the gospels.  There are more verses here than in the Sermon on the Mount.  In John's gospel, Jesus has come to a point where he recognizes that he has very little time left with his followers, and he has so much more that he wants to say  And so we have this material before us.

 The study makes provision for examination of the texts, for questioning the meaning of certain passages, and for reflection on what these verses might mean in the life of a modern-day disciple.

The design of the study is that it be used between Easter Day and the Day of Pentecost.  But it is easily adapted to a shorter span.  I encourage you to take advantage of this new offering by our Conference leadership and spend some time with what we might call "Jesus' final instructions."

 

A matter of balance

I regularly pass by a church that was formerly a United Methodist Congregation.  It has apparently joined in the disaffiliation madness that has infected our denomination.  The sign out front of this building is brick with metal letters attached.  I won't use its real name, but the church has struck the word "United" from its sign, so that the posting now looks something like this:

WESLEY
                          Methodist Church

I think that the appearance of this sign is a metaphor for this entire movement.  It is out-of-balance.  It is asymmetrical.  It is also just aesthetically unpleasing.

The impatience and often irrationality of the Disaffiliation Movement continues to fracture our denomination.  The movement depends on misinformation, outright lies, and an angry, mean spirit to accomplish it ends.  The movement's short-sightedness will leave us scarred for a century to come.

And its legacy is also a sense of ugliness.  It drags with it a lack of balance that betrays an absence of planning.

I am not much for bumper-sticker theology, but this church sign really tells me all I need to know.

Palm/Passion Sunday

Palm/Passion Sunday: I remember the first couple of times I heard that term.  It refers, of course, to this day, the Sunday prior to Easter Day. It is a kind of expedient.  It recognizes that there are a lot of people who will attend church today and observe The Triumphal Entry.  Then they will stay at home and not come to church again until next Sunday, when they will join in the proclamation of Easter.  They will skip Holy Week, and Good Friday in particular, and therefore move from celebration to celebration, from joy to joy, without experiencing any of the anguish of the Upper room; Gethsemane; The Betrayal; The Arrest; the various trials before the Sanhedrin, before Herod, or before Pilate; The Flogging; the Via Dolorosa; The Crucifixion; or The Entombment.  So many people will refuse to recognize these terrible moments.  They move from Palms to Lilies.  They ease from Sunday to Sunday without a lot of discomfort at all.  I had a dear friend and active church member who said of Holy Week, “I just can’t stand to think of Jesus in a situation like that.”

As I said, I remember the first couple of times I heard of “Palm/Passion Sunday.”  I was horrified.  Now you must realize that this was early in my ministry.  My idealism was still running at a fairly high level.  I have come to understand that there are reasons beyond spiritual laziness why folks might not be in church on Maundy Thursday or Good Friday or for other Holy Week observances.  So, while I don’t see it as the best of all possible worlds, I have made my peace with Palm/Passion Sunday. 

It starts off with The Liturgy of the Palms in all three years of the Revised Common Lectionary Cycles.  It then moves to the Liturgy of The Passion, where in one form or another it rehearses the death of Jesus.  Folks use these two elements in varying ways, but at the core is a lifting up of both Triumphal Entry and the Death of Jesus.  And, it may be that such a day encompasses the gospel in a way that we don’t see on a garden-variety Sunday.  So, ambivalence and all, Happy Palm/Passion Sunday.

As I said, I remember the first couple of times I heard of “Palm/Passion Sunday.”  I was horrified.  Now you must realize that this was early in my ministry.  My idealism was still running at a fairly high level.  I have come to understand that there are reasons beyond spiritual laziness why folks might not be in church on Maundy Thursday or Good Friday or for other Holy Week observances.  So, while I don’t see it as the best of all possible worlds, I have made my peace with Palm/Passion Sunday. 

It starts off with The Liturgy of the Palms in all three years of the Revised Common Lectionary Cycles.  It then moves to the Liturgy of The Passion, where in one form or another it rehearses the death of Jesus.  Folks use these two elements in varying ways, but at the core is a lifting up of both Triumphal Entry and the Death of Jesus.  And, it may be that such a day encompasses the gospel in a way that we don’t see on a garden-variety Sunday.  So, ambivalence and all, Happy Palm/Passion Sunday.