Mark 6:47-56
Friday, 29 February 2008
It is a truism that people do not like to confront the unfamiliar. And I think that it is particularly difficult for us to be faced with the unfamiliar in the midst of a space that we think we know well. It's one of the reasons that church people have such difficulty with any change in the worship liturgy; it's a struggle and strain to acclimate oneself in a familiar space with what feels like a foreign experience.
Much of Jesus' activities thus far in the Gospel of Mark have taken place on or near the lake. Several of Jesus' disciples are fishers by trade. As today's scene opens, the disciples are crossing the lake with great difficulty, straining and struggling against an adverse wind. Jesus, though taking time for his own communion with God and solitude, has been keeping an eye on them, and when he sees their strain he approaches for a closer look. He intends to pass by, but they spot him. Jesus is familiar; the seas is familiar; even the adverse wind is familiar. But when you put all of them together, it all seems foreign. The disciples are afraid and they cry out. Jesus enters the boat and the adversity clears.
We have the advantage over the disciples in the text, since as Jesus' people we should always be expecting Jesus to show up. In fact, rather than being surprised at his arrival, we ought to be keeping our eyes open to see how and where he will make his appearance. Especially when we are struggling and strain against inevitable adverse winds, we can cry out for his help, not in fear but in faith.
Sing "Jesus Savior Pilot Me"
Pray Psalm 25
Friday, February 29, 2008
Thursday, February 28, 2008
Come Away and Rest 28 February 2008
Mark 6:30-46
Thursday, 28 February 2008
I bet you have noticed that with all of our time-saving, step-saving technology, we neither work less nor have more leisure time. Whereas we used to read during our commute, now we work. Whereas coming home from the office used to mean switching out of work mode, now our computers and PDAs make it possible to bring the office home with us literally and not just figuratively. The question we are all dealing with is When do we get a chance to rest?
Today's lesson really picks up where we left off in v. 12 before the interlude concerning the fate of John the Baptist. Jesus has given his disciples power and sent them forth, preaching and anointing with oil for healing. It is their activity that is setting the environment on fire; they are the ones whose ministries grab Herod's attention. It is safe to say that they have been very productive and very busy. Now they are touching bases with Jesus, and they are bringing the same excitement to their testimonies that they brought to their ministries. Jesus interrupts them with a command, "Come away to a deserted place all by yourselves and rest a while."
Periodically, we need to be reminded that human beings require rest. Too often in the church we are so interested in and consumed by our desire to work for God and to minister to people that we forget that we cannot survive without a break. Church workers and professionals are notorious for burnout. To be sure, the people we serve may still come after us and we may shortly find ourselves involved in a miraculous demonstration of ministry and power, but right about now I think I hear Jesus' voice, "Come away and rest."
Sing, "In the Garden"
Let us pray:
We come to this moment of solitude, Lord, taking time from the hustle and bustle of life. We inhale deeply to embrace your presence. Allow us in these moments to glimpse the rest that you have promised for us. Refresh us in this respite so that we may return renewed to the work to which you have called us, in Jesus' name.
Thursday, 28 February 2008
I bet you have noticed that with all of our time-saving, step-saving technology, we neither work less nor have more leisure time. Whereas we used to read during our commute, now we work. Whereas coming home from the office used to mean switching out of work mode, now our computers and PDAs make it possible to bring the office home with us literally and not just figuratively. The question we are all dealing with is When do we get a chance to rest?
Today's lesson really picks up where we left off in v. 12 before the interlude concerning the fate of John the Baptist. Jesus has given his disciples power and sent them forth, preaching and anointing with oil for healing. It is their activity that is setting the environment on fire; they are the ones whose ministries grab Herod's attention. It is safe to say that they have been very productive and very busy. Now they are touching bases with Jesus, and they are bringing the same excitement to their testimonies that they brought to their ministries. Jesus interrupts them with a command, "Come away to a deserted place all by yourselves and rest a while."
Periodically, we need to be reminded that human beings require rest. Too often in the church we are so interested in and consumed by our desire to work for God and to minister to people that we forget that we cannot survive without a break. Church workers and professionals are notorious for burnout. To be sure, the people we serve may still come after us and we may shortly find ourselves involved in a miraculous demonstration of ministry and power, but right about now I think I hear Jesus' voice, "Come away and rest."
Sing, "In the Garden"
Let us pray:
We come to this moment of solitude, Lord, taking time from the hustle and bustle of life. We inhale deeply to embrace your presence. Allow us in these moments to glimpse the rest that you have promised for us. Refresh us in this respite so that we may return renewed to the work to which you have called us, in Jesus' name.
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
Fear and Liking 27 February 2008
Mark 6:13-29
Wednesday, 27 February 2008
One of the most interesting, confusing, and frustrating characteristics of human beings is our ability to hold two conflicting opinions at the same time. We can be endlessly fascinated by the same people we find unbearably annoying. We can love and not like someone. We can be afraid of people we like.
Herod is obviously a man controlled by his passions. Although it was unlawful to do so, his passions drove him to marry his brother's wife. Furious with John the Baptist for calling attention to his misdeeds, he has John arrested and imprisoned. At the same time, he handles John with care, not only because of the people's regard for John, but also because he himself recognizes that John is a man of God. He despises the truth that John tells; he fears John's spiritual and political power; but he also finds John's words compelling. He likes to listen to the same one he fears. So haunting is his memory of John the Baptist that even after he has him beheaded, his conscience troubles him and he sees John the Baptist resurrected in the ministry of Jesus and he hears John's voice in Jesus' words.
It's funny how life often causes us to revisit the very areas and relationships that we most would like to bury, forcing us to examine and reexamine our feelings and thoughts. Even kings get haunted by their misdeeds; even rulers have to give an account before God and in their own consciences. And for us, a big part of this Lenten journey is the opportunity to have our hearts, minds, emotions, and passions exposed before God so that God can make sense of them. Realizing this, as we listen to God's voice, we like Herod have conflicting responses. We are afraid and we are drawn closer. Unlike Herod, however, we are wise enough not to try to silence the voice.
Sing,"I am Thine O Lord"
Let us pray:
All-Knowing God, we both long for and tremble at your awesome presence. In your light, we see ourselves as we were and are - broken, unworthy, and sinful. By your light, we also see ourselves as we are becoming - healed, cleansed, and transformed. Grant us the privilege of remaining near enough to experience your perfect love casting out our fear. Lead us on the journey of exposure and restoration, we pray in Jesus' name. Amen
Wednesday, 27 February 2008
One of the most interesting, confusing, and frustrating characteristics of human beings is our ability to hold two conflicting opinions at the same time. We can be endlessly fascinated by the same people we find unbearably annoying. We can love and not like someone. We can be afraid of people we like.
Herod is obviously a man controlled by his passions. Although it was unlawful to do so, his passions drove him to marry his brother's wife. Furious with John the Baptist for calling attention to his misdeeds, he has John arrested and imprisoned. At the same time, he handles John with care, not only because of the people's regard for John, but also because he himself recognizes that John is a man of God. He despises the truth that John tells; he fears John's spiritual and political power; but he also finds John's words compelling. He likes to listen to the same one he fears. So haunting is his memory of John the Baptist that even after he has him beheaded, his conscience troubles him and he sees John the Baptist resurrected in the ministry of Jesus and he hears John's voice in Jesus' words.
It's funny how life often causes us to revisit the very areas and relationships that we most would like to bury, forcing us to examine and reexamine our feelings and thoughts. Even kings get haunted by their misdeeds; even rulers have to give an account before God and in their own consciences. And for us, a big part of this Lenten journey is the opportunity to have our hearts, minds, emotions, and passions exposed before God so that God can make sense of them. Realizing this, as we listen to God's voice, we like Herod have conflicting responses. We are afraid and we are drawn closer. Unlike Herod, however, we are wise enough not to try to silence the voice.
Sing,"I am Thine O Lord"
Let us pray:
All-Knowing God, we both long for and tremble at your awesome presence. In your light, we see ourselves as we were and are - broken, unworthy, and sinful. By your light, we also see ourselves as we are becoming - healed, cleansed, and transformed. Grant us the privilege of remaining near enough to experience your perfect love casting out our fear. Lead us on the journey of exposure and restoration, we pray in Jesus' name. Amen
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
Coming Home 26 February 2008
Mark 6:1-13
Tuesday, 26 February 2008
In recent years, I have become something of a baseball fan; I guess it is a function of living in a sports town like Philadelphia. Of course, I like things best when a player from my team scores. I love to watch a home run hitter round the bases and to see him met at home plate and in the dugout by his teammates. Basically, they're saying "Welcome home."
I am struck in this reading of Mark how regularly Jesus returns to his home in the early chapters. In chapter 5, Jesus has demonstrated the far reaches of his power, as a woman who simply touched him was healed and a young girl who had died was raised back to life. Jesus has hit the ministry home run. He goes into the synagogue and teaches with power and authority. People are amazed. Then they remember who he is. They tell themselves, "He's a homeboy." And then they stumble. It's just too much for them to allow the carpenter whose mother and siblings live among them to be more than they anticipated. The sad thing is that the loss was really theirs, as Jesus was unable to perform the deeds of power there that would have ministered to them.
We have all had moments when we came home with our accomplishments in hand and expecting that we would get the home run greeting from our family and friends. Sometimes they have done more to honor accomplishments than we could have imagined; sometimes they simply could not bring themselves to celebrate us at all. But the thing we learn from this is the lesson Jesus teaches, that the truth of who we are and of what we have to say does not change on the basis of whether there's a parade or not. And even when the people at our address or in our hometown do not know how to embrace us, Jesus himself demonstrates again and again that he is our true home.
Sing, "Lord I'm Coming Home"
Pray a prayer that focuses on the people of your home.
Tuesday, 26 February 2008
In recent years, I have become something of a baseball fan; I guess it is a function of living in a sports town like Philadelphia. Of course, I like things best when a player from my team scores. I love to watch a home run hitter round the bases and to see him met at home plate and in the dugout by his teammates. Basically, they're saying "Welcome home."
I am struck in this reading of Mark how regularly Jesus returns to his home in the early chapters. In chapter 5, Jesus has demonstrated the far reaches of his power, as a woman who simply touched him was healed and a young girl who had died was raised back to life. Jesus has hit the ministry home run. He goes into the synagogue and teaches with power and authority. People are amazed. Then they remember who he is. They tell themselves, "He's a homeboy." And then they stumble. It's just too much for them to allow the carpenter whose mother and siblings live among them to be more than they anticipated. The sad thing is that the loss was really theirs, as Jesus was unable to perform the deeds of power there that would have ministered to them.
We have all had moments when we came home with our accomplishments in hand and expecting that we would get the home run greeting from our family and friends. Sometimes they have done more to honor accomplishments than we could have imagined; sometimes they simply could not bring themselves to celebrate us at all. But the thing we learn from this is the lesson Jesus teaches, that the truth of who we are and of what we have to say does not change on the basis of whether there's a parade or not. And even when the people at our address or in our hometown do not know how to embrace us, Jesus himself demonstrates again and again that he is our true home.
Sing, "Lord I'm Coming Home"
Pray a prayer that focuses on the people of your home.
Monday, February 25, 2008
Has Jesus Dropped the Ball? 25 February 2008
Mark 5:21-43
Monday, 25 February 2008
I have been thinking a lot about the demands of pastoral ministry, particularly the challenge of balancing the competing needs and issues among the congregation. Problems and tragedies do not stand in line; new emergencies do not wait for the resolution of the previous issue. I am sure you can think of areas in your life in which you are juggling, with lots of balls in the air, each one as precious as the other, but it's all you can do to keep from dropping them all.
Throughout the gospel of Mark, Jesus has been negotiating the growing crowds who follow him because of the power and effectiveness of his ministry. You might even remember that in chapter 1, Jesus rose before it was even light in order to make some solitary time to commune with God through prayer. But when Peter found him, Peter simply reminded him that "Everybody's looking for you." Here in chapter 5, everybody is still looking for him; the crowds are pressing in and a ruling official of the synagogue makes an urgent request regarding his daughter who is ill. On this way to the man's house but still pressed by the crowds, Jesus stops to acknowledge the touch of another daughter - God's daughter - known to us as "the woman with the issue of blood." Unlike the rest of the clamoring crowd, this woman's touch has transferred healing and virtue from Jesus to her. She goes in peace. But during the pause, the other little daughter dies. I wonder what the synagogue official's thoughts are at that moment. Has Jesus dropped the ball?
Of course, you read the text so you know that Jesus has an answer even for apparent defeat and failure. Death for others is sleep to him. We can be inspired by this reality, as it is the essence of our faith. As our forebears sang, he may not come when you want him, but he's on time.
Sing, "He's Got the Whole World in His Hands"
Let us pray:
Loving Savior, so much in this Lenten season reminds us of your infinite power to snatch victory out of the jaws of defeat. Whether we find ourselves in the crowd desiring your attention or seek to be your ministers in a world that needs so much, help us to be mindful that while we may drop the ball, you hold the whole world in your hands. Teach us again by your death and resurrection to regard all of the tombs in our lives as temporary, in Jesus' name. Amen.
Monday, 25 February 2008
I have been thinking a lot about the demands of pastoral ministry, particularly the challenge of balancing the competing needs and issues among the congregation. Problems and tragedies do not stand in line; new emergencies do not wait for the resolution of the previous issue. I am sure you can think of areas in your life in which you are juggling, with lots of balls in the air, each one as precious as the other, but it's all you can do to keep from dropping them all.
Throughout the gospel of Mark, Jesus has been negotiating the growing crowds who follow him because of the power and effectiveness of his ministry. You might even remember that in chapter 1, Jesus rose before it was even light in order to make some solitary time to commune with God through prayer. But when Peter found him, Peter simply reminded him that "Everybody's looking for you." Here in chapter 5, everybody is still looking for him; the crowds are pressing in and a ruling official of the synagogue makes an urgent request regarding his daughter who is ill. On this way to the man's house but still pressed by the crowds, Jesus stops to acknowledge the touch of another daughter - God's daughter - known to us as "the woman with the issue of blood." Unlike the rest of the clamoring crowd, this woman's touch has transferred healing and virtue from Jesus to her. She goes in peace. But during the pause, the other little daughter dies. I wonder what the synagogue official's thoughts are at that moment. Has Jesus dropped the ball?
Of course, you read the text so you know that Jesus has an answer even for apparent defeat and failure. Death for others is sleep to him. We can be inspired by this reality, as it is the essence of our faith. As our forebears sang, he may not come when you want him, but he's on time.
Sing, "He's Got the Whole World in His Hands"
Let us pray:
Loving Savior, so much in this Lenten season reminds us of your infinite power to snatch victory out of the jaws of defeat. Whether we find ourselves in the crowd desiring your attention or seek to be your ministers in a world that needs so much, help us to be mindful that while we may drop the ball, you hold the whole world in your hands. Teach us again by your death and resurrection to regard all of the tombs in our lives as temporary, in Jesus' name. Amen.
Friday, February 22, 2008
Storm Watch 22 February 2008
Mark 4:35-41
Friday, 22 February 2008
February is a good month for considering storms. Whenever I make plans to travel in February I am always prepared for a winter storm to upset them. In fact, just today I was scheduled to travel to Virginia for a conference, but the winter storm lasted just long enough to cause the airline to cancel my flight.
The disciples and Jesus are traveling by boat from one side of the sea to the other. The very human Jesus takes the opportunity away from the crowds to catch a nap. As he sleeps, a storm arises on the sea, highlighted by rough winds and swamping waves. Even the fishers aboard the ship begin to note the force of wind and the danger of the waters. Just then, somebody remembers that Jesus is on board. Awakening him, they ask, "Don't you care that we are about to die?" Nothing about their question suggests that they thought Jesus could do something about the storm. They were just curious about how he could sleep through the racket. The more than human Jesus surprises them. He rebukes the wind and commands the sea to be calm. Immediately, all is quiet.
There is much for us to learn in this story. But the lesson for me today is to stop watching the storm and know that there is no cancellation for the Lord's plans. When we focus on the storm, we forget our own past experiences and testimonies of deliverance from and in worse situations. Looking at the storm, we forget that Jesus is on board our ship. The only thing we ought to watch for in the storm is the response of the storm when Jesus speaks. Peace, be still.
Sing, "Master the Tempest is Raging"
Let us pray:
Almighty God, your voice quiets all the storms in our life. Forgive us for our lack of trust in your guiding and guarding us toward our destination. Grant us grace in the midst of the storm and faith until it passes over. May we follow Jesus and be at rest even when the storm is raging and the billows roll, we pray in his name. Amen
Friday, 22 February 2008
February is a good month for considering storms. Whenever I make plans to travel in February I am always prepared for a winter storm to upset them. In fact, just today I was scheduled to travel to Virginia for a conference, but the winter storm lasted just long enough to cause the airline to cancel my flight.
The disciples and Jesus are traveling by boat from one side of the sea to the other. The very human Jesus takes the opportunity away from the crowds to catch a nap. As he sleeps, a storm arises on the sea, highlighted by rough winds and swamping waves. Even the fishers aboard the ship begin to note the force of wind and the danger of the waters. Just then, somebody remembers that Jesus is on board. Awakening him, they ask, "Don't you care that we are about to die?" Nothing about their question suggests that they thought Jesus could do something about the storm. They were just curious about how he could sleep through the racket. The more than human Jesus surprises them. He rebukes the wind and commands the sea to be calm. Immediately, all is quiet.
There is much for us to learn in this story. But the lesson for me today is to stop watching the storm and know that there is no cancellation for the Lord's plans. When we focus on the storm, we forget our own past experiences and testimonies of deliverance from and in worse situations. Looking at the storm, we forget that Jesus is on board our ship. The only thing we ought to watch for in the storm is the response of the storm when Jesus speaks. Peace, be still.
Sing, "Master the Tempest is Raging"
Let us pray:
Almighty God, your voice quiets all the storms in our life. Forgive us for our lack of trust in your guiding and guarding us toward our destination. Grant us grace in the midst of the storm and faith until it passes over. May we follow Jesus and be at rest even when the storm is raging and the billows roll, we pray in his name. Amen
Thursday, February 21, 2008
Under Surveillance 21 February 2008
Mark 4:21-34
Thursday, 21 February 2008
Something fundamental changed in our culture in the transformation of communication and surveillance. While we once might have had the illusion of privacy, now we are aware that our every move can be and probably is being watched. You can place your home address in the computer and at any hour of the day see a satellite-generated picture of your house at that moment, with your car parked out front.
Continuing his conversation with his followers about how to maximize their effectiveness and reach in a sometimes hostile world and environment, Jesus offers an illustration from commonplace, every day experience. No one who lights a candle then obscures its light by placing it under a basket or under a bed. Rather, the person positions the light on a lampstand. Unlike the parallel text from Matthew in which Jesus used the same illustration to discuss his followers' visibility and influence as the light of the world and salt of the earth, this time Jesus uses the image of light as an implicit warning. Everything eventually will be exposed. Everything will come to light. Everything?
Let's be honest. Most of us have good reason to be uncomfortable at the prospect that EVERYTHING will come to light. But we are only uncomfortable to the extent that we forget that Jesus is the Light and that the Light is also the Love. Jesus is not the police, looking for a reason to arrest us or to destroy us. Rather than viewing the promise that light will shine as a curse, we ought to view it as a blessing. God does not expose us to the light in order to condemn us but to heal us.
Sing, "Yes Jesus Loves Me"
Let us pray:
While we are down here praying, please search our hearts. Shine the light of your Holy Spirit upon us. Help us not to shrink away but to walk toward the light. And as we draw nearer to you, allow us to reflect the light. May our lights so shine that people will see our good works and glorify you. Amen
Thursday, 21 February 2008
Something fundamental changed in our culture in the transformation of communication and surveillance. While we once might have had the illusion of privacy, now we are aware that our every move can be and probably is being watched. You can place your home address in the computer and at any hour of the day see a satellite-generated picture of your house at that moment, with your car parked out front.
Continuing his conversation with his followers about how to maximize their effectiveness and reach in a sometimes hostile world and environment, Jesus offers an illustration from commonplace, every day experience. No one who lights a candle then obscures its light by placing it under a basket or under a bed. Rather, the person positions the light on a lampstand. Unlike the parallel text from Matthew in which Jesus used the same illustration to discuss his followers' visibility and influence as the light of the world and salt of the earth, this time Jesus uses the image of light as an implicit warning. Everything eventually will be exposed. Everything will come to light. Everything?
Let's be honest. Most of us have good reason to be uncomfortable at the prospect that EVERYTHING will come to light. But we are only uncomfortable to the extent that we forget that Jesus is the Light and that the Light is also the Love. Jesus is not the police, looking for a reason to arrest us or to destroy us. Rather than viewing the promise that light will shine as a curse, we ought to view it as a blessing. God does not expose us to the light in order to condemn us but to heal us.
Sing, "Yes Jesus Loves Me"
Let us pray:
While we are down here praying, please search our hearts. Shine the light of your Holy Spirit upon us. Help us not to shrink away but to walk toward the light. And as we draw nearer to you, allow us to reflect the light. May our lights so shine that people will see our good works and glorify you. Amen
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