Sunday, March 17, 2019

3.17.19


In a book that largely uses male imagery for God, Jesus compares Himself to a mother hen. This is refreshing, I must admit. Even when the Gospel of John paraphrases a Hymn to Sophia, the feminine aspect of god in the Hebrew scripture, to name what aspect of God became flesh, John masculinizes the hymn. So a straight out feminine comparison from Jesus’ own mouth is welcome indeed.
It is of course, also an image of shielding, an image in both the psalm and the Old Testament passage today. In the past I’ve preached on the dark cloud on the mountain of transfiguration as a calming presence in which to enter lent. Today’s readings, though, present much better imagery. 
Many folks I know have been so wounded by the image of God that will send to hell if you mess up, or even for things that are completely out of your control, that Lent just becomes an exercise in self-flagellation. That is NOT the kind of vulnerability I’ve been talking about. That does not allow for a good relationship with god.
The vulnerability I’m talking about is the kind of vulnerability that comes from resting in the mercy and love of God. To honestly look at one’s behavior, to be willing to feel remorse for deeds and not feel the kind of shame where you think your very self is wrong – is truly vulnerable. Self-loathing, in my experience, actually clouds the mind of truly being able to own your shit. We all shit. Not all of us look at it before we flush.
Keep in mind this lent that God loves you, feels merciful towards you, and will shelter you when you expose yourself to Her. She is not waiting for you to slip up so she can get you. “Tell mommy all about it, I won’t be mad.” An open and contrite heart, God will not despise.  

Sunday, March 3, 2019

3.3.19



Stories like these gave me the impression that Jesus was a grumpy impatient dude, which fit with my childhood impression of the Father being a vengeful asshole. The thing of course I missed at the time was the fact that Jesus came down from the mountain after talking to heavenly residents about his future trial, torture and death. Which, y’know would make anyone grumpy.
Lately though, my impression of Jesus has become much more lighthearted in general than previously. I’ve come to believe for the most part, Jesus really gets a kick out of the oddballs of this world; which explains why Peter is His favorite. I’ve got a serious conversation to have today, let me be sure to bring Peter, cause he makes me laugh.
As a side note, it’s the story of Zacchaeus that really got me thinking this way. Jesus sees a short guy up in a tree and says, “I gotta have dinner with this dude!” He’s just delighting in this guy’s total lack of decorum. And of course this all fits with God picking the unlikely people for his prophets. Moses stuttered, David was a runt, Jonah was seemingly the worst candidate you could possibly pick to preach repentance to the Nineveh.
“Depart from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man” are some of the first words Peter ever said to Jesus. Jesus’s response? “Don’t be afraid.” Then Jesus tells Peter that he will be Jesus’ prophet. As the Gospels progress it’s pretty much Peter that says the goofiest things, It’s not really spread out among the 12. Now in Luke and John’s Gospel, you’d expect this as both Gospels would want to downplay Peter in favor of Paul (Luke wrote Acts remember) and John’s beloved disciple.
However most of the goofy sayings can be found in Mark, which is actually thought to be in the tradition of what Peter taught. Which means Peter is remarkably humble and vulnerable in admitting his own faults. And as I’ve been hammering into your heads, vulnerability is a major path to following Jesus.
We’re not even sure if Jesus heard Peter make his goofy remark about tents. I’m convinced Jesus would have been terribly amused by it. Instead God descends in a cloud and says, “Shhhh, listen.” Which reminds me of the Martha and Mary story. The better part is not being busy but listening to Jesus. 
Beyond the gist of what Jesus is talking to with Moses and Elijah, we and presumably Peter, John and James, do not get details. Right after the healing at the bottom of the mountain though, Jesus tells the disciples about His impending passion.
Jesus gets to the bottom of the mountain and hears some dude ranting about his only son. “You wanna talk only Son and what that means, Pal? I can tell you ALL about it.” Even though He asks the question, Jesus has a pretty good idea how long he has to put up with this shit.
Now in Mark’s version the kid’s father says the famous lines, “I believe, help my disbelief,” and he later councils the disciples on how to get rid of this kind of demon. This is consistent with the petitioner’s faith having much to do with the success of a miracle. Luke omits all this, though, so that it sounds like Jesus’ frustration is with His disciples. Possibly to contrast this with Paul’s unshakable faith.
Mark’s version hammers home the vulnerability needed. Help my unbelief. Admitting our short comings, literally willing to expose where we fall short of who we want to be, is a very good attitude to bring into Lent. Don’t be afraid, Jesus tells us, it’s the arrogance of the kid’s father in demanding of Jesus what His disciples couldn’t do, that upsets Jesus. Jesus responds to the vulnerability of the dad admitting the weakness of his faith. Chances are Jesus will find your faults amusing, not things that prevent you from being His prophet.