Living Resurrected Lives

 

“United with him in a death like his …

  united with him in a resurrection

       like his.”         (Romans 6:5)

 

The Gospels are filled with stories of people whose lives are transformed by their encounters with Jesus.  The ailing and the afflicted, the wayward and the sinful, the wealthy and powerful, the poor and destitute, all experience profound renewal and deliverance.  In a very real sense, they undergo a death to new life.  They experience the death of what is old and false so that what is true and vital and lasting might be re-born in them.  They go on to live resurrected lives, transformed by the power of God in Christ. 

 

The apostle Paul says this is foundational to understanding the power of God in our own lives.  Revealed in the life and ministry of Jesus, God is about the transformation of the world.  The crucifixion and death of Jesus is emblematic of the death of everything that is false and cut off  from God.  As Paul says, “We know that our old self was crucified with him so that the body of sin might be destroyed, and we might no longer be enslaved to sin.” (Romans 6:6)  And, just as “we have been united with him in a death like his, we will certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his.” 

 

Irenaeus, one of the fathers of the early church said, “The glory of God is a human being fully alive.”  It is in the journey through the death of the false self and the resurrection of our authentic, true selves that we are set free to be the people God created us to be.  It is through this death that we become fully alive.  And God’s invitation is to live from there, from that place of resurrection.  It is to live resurrected lives, no longer burdened by guilt and shame of the past, nor fear and foreboding of what the future holds.  It is to live as the people of God, raised to new life in him, and following God’s calling to transform the world.

 

Beginning with the celebration of Easter, we will be focusing on stories of transformation.  We will explore the stories of people who were renewed, reborn, resurrected by encounters with the living Lord.  And we will engage God’s calling on all who will believe to live resurrected lives for the sake of the world today.

 

Be Still

Be Still and Know
– Psalm 46:10


My New Year’s resolution this year elicited a range of reactions, from hearty laughter to plain puzzlement.  Last year, it was “to wear brighter colors,” and that actually turned out pretty well.  I’d grown tired of the standard batch of personal improvement resolutions that I was habitually making and promptly breaking over the years; it was making me a little cynical.  “Brighter colors” seemed like something I could run with.  This year, it’s “to be quieter.” The laughter was from my mother and others closest to me.  The puzzlement was from most everyone else who asked.  But this one may turn out to be the most beneficial in years.  

 

It arose out of a personal observation of how “noisy” I am.  Not so much outwardly, but inside.  It’s alarming to me how much is going on in my head, nearly all the time.  Layers and convolutions of thoughts and imaginings and looping “tapes” about things present, things past and what may be coming next.  Perhaps I’m being overly confessional, but I don’t think I’m alone in this … challenged in trying to “do life” effectively with this din going on in my head.  So I’m trying to be quieter, inside.  I have resumed an ancient practice and time-tested discipline of centering prayer:  periods of silence – as regularly as I can manage – when I gently let my mind grow still and simply rest in God’s presence.  Our contemplative worship gathering – Evensong – is a wonderful opportunity for this, as well.  The candlelit quiet of our sanctuary, steeping in God’s Word, the beauty of Taizé chant music, periods of silence, the bread and wine, shared simply – all invite me into that place the Psalmist knows:  the place where the One says, “Be still, and know that I am God.”  

 

I am better for this.  I am stronger, and clearer, for spending intentional time resting in God, by myself and in the shared contemplation of Evensong.  Whenever we will get still, and turn and open ourselves, the One from whom all blessings flow is right there to embrace us.  You can do this, too.  We can do this together.  Evensong is every Sunday at 5:00 pm.  And we can talk about the simple methodology of centering prayer any time you’d like.  And I’m going to stick with the brighter colors; that seems to be working, too.

 

Ich glaube an Gott, den Vater

One of the Reformers’ great contributions to the history of Christian faith was translation of Biblical and liturgical texts into the plain language of the people.  John Wycliffe, Jan Hus, Huldrych Zwingli, Martin Luther and others shared the conviction that Scripture belonged in the hands and the hearts of common people, for it was there that God sought to plant and nurture God’s truth.

 

As Luther translated the Apostle’s Creed into vernacular German, he used “glaube” to render the Greek and Latin references to believing and belief.  The word actually comes from the proto-Germanic “ga lauban” which means “to hold dear;” literally “to love.”

 

At the root of our profession of faith – when we say “I believe in God the father…” –  we are in truth saying I love God, I love Jesus Christ the begotten one, I love the Spirit of God that blows through the universe, and I hold the Trinity dear.

 

Some of the most treasured stories from the Christian narrative are of the Nativity of Jesus.  We might wrestle with the disparities and differences between the Gospel accounts.  We might be challenged by the historicity of various events they depict.  We may even find some aspects of the stories hard to believe, in a contemporary sense.  But the Christmas stories remain some of our most cherished.  Through the years and seasons of life, we hold them dear. We come to love them.

 

In our enlightened age, believing has become entirely confounded with the idea of “mentally accepting something as true;” in religious terms, as a settled matter of doctrine.  Yet in Old High German, and Saxon and Old English, this same term originally meant “trust,” even “loyalty” to an idea; a pledge of faith.  To believe is to embrace truth at ever deepening levels, trusting that faith itself is a gift from God.

 

As we make the journey of Advent together, we will be delving deeply in these Nativity stories.  We will be seeking not so much doctrinal correctness and historical factuality as re-connection with believing as “beloving.” We will embrace the old, old stories in new ways that have the power to return them to us in their original brilliance, so that we might hold them dear and share them in love.

 

God is there before us ...

I love this image.  It’s called The Hand of God, executed in bronze by the prominent Swedish sculptor Carl Milles.  Humanity in search of God, when all the while …

 

The Lutheran theologian Paul Tillich described God as the “source and ground of all that is.”  Scripture describes God as the One “in whom we live and move and have our being” (Acts 17:28).  Max Lucado said, “People asking, ‘Where is God?’ is like fish asking, ‘Where is water?’.”

 

As a group of Lutheran seminarians prepared for a mission in the Mexican colonias, a community organizer reminded us:  “Wherever we go, God is there before us.”  I love the double-entendre:  wherever we would go, wherever we arrived, God preceded us there; and, wherever we went, God was right there, before us … in the people, in the environment, in the culture and the nature of the place. 

 

It is this faith – our trust in the ever-presence of God, in us and in the world – that enables us to live boldly.  And it is this faith that calls us out, into the world, to live as God’s people, to share with others the grace and truth we have received.  From this perspective, we’re invited to see the world, like author/teacher Kelly Fryer said, not as “a problem to be solved,” but as the arena where God is already at work, transforming lives.  God simply invites us to join in that work.  It is out there, in the world, that God invites us to be co-creators of a new reality that Jesus called the Kingdom of God.  

 

Our “mission” is no more and no less than to proclaim that Kingdom through everything we say and do.  And to do so, as Luther said, with a living, daring confidence borne out of our faith in God’s presence and grace.  So … we go, together; and we go boldly, secure in knowing that wherever we go, God is there before us.

 

From our earliest days, as a species, art has been a means of expressing our reality and understanding our world.  Some of our most profound art, I believe, is some of the most primitive:  paint blown onto cave walls to create neolithic images of human hands.  They proclaim both the fact and mystery of our existence, our undeniable presence and extraordinary uniqueness in creation.  I believe art is one of the most vital of spiritual gifts; that art is the voice of the Spirit, speaking in and through us.  The first poem was uttered by the first cave dweller that wandered out to behold the wonder of the night sky in amazement:  Aaaaaah!  The primordial heartbeat, our first music.

 

Through art, we have been reaching toward the source of that divine inspiration ever since.  From the high medieval art of Michelangelo adorning the Sistine Chapel, to more contemporary expressions, art becomes our means of finding and making meaning out of our experience of being. 

 

Through art we reach toward the God who reaches toward us, longing to know and to be known.  Through art we shine light into the shadows, illuminating the truth … of us, in relationship with creation, and in relationship with God.  We discover the divine in our own humanity and in the natural world that surrounds us.  In worship in coming weeks we will be exploring ways in which artists have made sense and meaning out of major  elements and events in our Scripture and our theology.  And perhaps we’ll discover that voice of the Spirit in us that longs for deeper connection with God through all the joys and sorrows of life.  Join us, we’ll make our way together.

 

“ a house of prayer " - Isaiah 56:7

One constant that rises from the pages of both Hebrew testament and Christian witness is God’s call to prayer.  Individually and communally, in times of danger and despair, in times of joyful celebration, at the top of our lungs and in the intimacy of silence – God invites and encourages us to pray. 

It has been said there are as many ways to pray as there are people.  Entire prayers have  become traditions in the faith that we intone in unison.  And we pray extemporaneously, in the immediacy of the moment, as the Spirit moves us.  Some prayers are filled with words addressed to God, while others are literally prayed within us, by the very Spirit of God, when life takes us beyond words.  Prayer is as much felt as expressed; as much listening as speaking.

I must confess this divinely inspired act, this spiritual discipline that is prayer, is at once entirely familiar and supremely mysterious to me, and to a good many people I talk with.  Is the use and intent of prayer to change the circumstances of life, or to change the one in the midst of those circumstances?  Is it dialogue or pure presence, or both?   And what constitutes the answer to prayer that we seek?

Despite all our questions, God calls us to be a people of prayer.  Isaiah speaks God’s truth for the world: “My house shall be a house of prayer for the nations,” for all people. (Isaiah 56:7)  The Hebrew word “beyth” which is translated here as “house” may be better understood as household, or even family.  God is saying something foundational about people and about prayer.  First, the “house,” the temple, the church, is not a building; it’s people.  And second, this household of God is literally built of prayer.  Our identity and unity as people of faith is founded on and built of the intimate presence with God that is the gift of prayer.  And this household – this family – is open to anyone and everyone who wishes to enter into that presence!  

We are delving deeply into the mystery prayer during the month of June.  In worship and study, in reflection and practice, we will embrace this gift from God and grow deeper in understanding what it means to be God’s house of prayer.

Pr. Brad Highum

 

Keep Awake

 

“And what I say to you I say to all … Keep awake." - Mark 13:37

Jesus calls us to wakefulness, to watchfulness, to awareness.  There is a wonderful interplay in some of his teachings between being awake and being asleep.  We quickly realize it is figuratively, not literally, that he is speaking.  To be asleep in the Greek of the New Testament is “katheudo.”  It literally describes a posture:  laid out, horizontal, prone, flattened.  Euphemistically it means unaware, unconscious, dead to the world.  Its opposite – wakefulness – is “egeiro” … vertical, upright; the posture of agency and capacity; aware, alive!

 

On the Mountain of Transfiguration, the Gospel says the disciples accompanying Jesus were “weighed down with sleep; but since they stayed awake, they saw his glory, and the two men standing with him.” (Luke 9:32)  Far from groggy, his closest companions have been unconscious to the truth.  In this elevated place of vision they are able to see, to comprehend, to understand Jesus in the tradition of the prophets and the faithfulness of God to raise up deliverers.  They awaken to the reality of the One who has come into the midst of the world.

 

In the breaking of the bread, the Emmaus disciples awaken to the true identity of the One who journeys with them.  “Keep awake,” Jesus says; “you never know when the Master of the house will come.” (Mark 13:35)   Saul of Tarsus is struck blind on the Damascus road, only to have the scales fall from his eyes, revealing the Christ of God.

 

In chastising his dozy disciples, Jesus paraphrases Isaiah:  “Do you still not perceive or understand? Are your hearts hardened? Do you have eyes, and fail to see? Do you have ears, and fail to hear?” (Mark 8:17-18)  He’s calling them to wake up!

 

This becomes our prayer in the Eastertide:  God give us eyes to see, and ears to hear!  Give us minds to comprehend the glory of what you are doing in Christ.  And give us hearts to embrace your calling upon us to live transformed lives in response.  We sing, “Open our eyes, Lord, we want to see Jesus; to reach out and touch him, and show that we love him.  Open our ears, Lord, and help us to listen.  Open our eyes, Lord …”

 

Together, we can embrace God’s calling to true life … awake, aware and actively living into the Kingdom God is revealing.  In times of joy, we can celebrate with one another.  In times of challenge and struggle we can encourage one another with the words of the prophet:  “No eye has seen, no ear heard, nor the human heart conceived, what God has prepared for those who love him.”

 - Pastor Brad