...wrong every time, Palm Sunday edition

Christ’s is no earthly kingdom; it comes from heaven above.

His rule secures our freedom, and justice, truth, and love.

Hope, peace, and joy our treasure, God’s love above all measure,

Hosanna to the Lord, for He fulfills God’s word!

--Mikael Franzen, trans. Philip M. Young

What do you mean?

--Justin Bieber

Not that kind of kingdom. Not that kind of king.

Those who followed Jesus when he walked the paths and skirted the shores of the Holy Land so long ago got it wrong. They looked for power (as they understood power), might (mainly military and political), the overturning of Roman rule and the restoration of the rightful place of the people of God (top of the heap). It was the lore on their lips, the dream in their hearts, the birthright they claimed. Now was the time, and Jesus was their man/king/savior.

We still get it wrong today. Every time we long for power more than compassion. Every time we ransom the welfare of ‘the least of these’ for another rung on society’s ladder. Every time we trade the deep divine undercurrent of joy for the cheap fleeting thrill of victory. Every time we look to Jesus as a vendor to supply us our momentary desires rather than the Vine to connect us to the source that is truly Life.

Because Christ’s is not that kind of kingdom. And Jesus is not that kind of king. 

Don’t look for that, here.

...all we thirsted for

All the way my Savior leads me; cheers each winding path I tread,

gives me grace for every trial, feeds me with the living bread;

though my weary steps may falter, and my soul athirst may be,

gushing from the Rock before me, lo! a spring of joy I see.

---Fanny Crosby, 1875

There are times the path seems winding, and the end unseen. At those times, when each step grows heavy, and the way seems never-ending, a hint of breeze refreshes, cheers. A rest along the way, to refuel and rest, can cast the day in a different light.

And when that path is life, and goals are elusive, and progress seems awfully rare, grace is that refreshing—gift, given with no thought of return, or of its having been earned in the first place. The words of our brother Jesus, urging us on toward greater compassion, more tenderness, consistent understanding—these words are food, fuel.

And the very presence of Christ, in the midst of our mess, feet on our path, God with us—this presence is pure joy, springing up like cool spring water, unexpected, thrilling, a little shocking. The very thing we never knew we were thirsty for.

All. the. way.

Salvation/destruction

This child must be born that the kingdom might come:
salvation for many, destruction for some;
both end and beginning, both message and sign;
both victor and victim, both yours and divine.
---John Bell

One of the easiest things to forget about Jesus' birth and early years is that he was already a 'marked man'. He came to lift up the littlest, the least, and the losers --- great news if you were little, least, or lost. If you were a one-percenter in the Bible-times world, however, this 'good news' was more than a little threatening. Herod was no idiot; he could read the writing on the wall --- or at least in the stars. When the astronomers from the East stopped to inquire about the new 'King of the Jews', the current King of the Jews was more than a little alarmed. You see, good news for the powerless is often anything but for the powerful. In life, there are winners and losers, and a savior who turns the tables is going to upset the table-toppers.
So it shouldn't surprise us when the powerful begin early making mighty efforts at keeping their power. Even when the opponent they battle is a baby. It is never too early to snuff out table-turning...


...so here we stand, whoever we are,
bathed in the light of a star...

Emmanuel comes a-singing

To us, to all, in sorrow and fear, Emmanuel comes a-singing;
his humble song is quiet and near, yet fills the earth with its ringing;
music to heal the broken soul and hymns of lovingkindness.
The thunder of his anthems rolls to shatter all hatred and violence.
---Marty Haugen

I have a Tibetan singing bowl. To play it, I slowly and steadily circle a heavy wooden dowel around the rim of the bowl. At first, I would promise that nothing is happening. But I keep the dowel circling, slowly, steadily. And gradually I feel a vibration in the fingertips on which I balance the bowl. And then there is a low hum, the kind I wonder if I am imagining. But it is there, and it is steady and solid in some way. And the longer I circle the dowel, the fuller the sound grows, and I can hear it and feel it filling me.
I imagine Emmanuel coming, singing, this same way. We may not hear a song at first; may just notice a change in the quality of the air in the space. Then, the slightest hint of harmonic vibration; and as you stand very still, you realize the song the Savior sings resonates through every cell in your body, and rings in every corner of your soul. Overwhelmed with the music, you become the song the Savior sings.


...so here we stand, whoever we are,
bathed in the light of a star...

God with us!

Rejoice! Rejoice!

Emmanuel shall come to thee,

O Israel!

Breathless from the bustle of autumn, we arrive at the first Sunday of Advent. Here in a football town, it seems we rush straight through football season ( no matter what kind of season it is) headlong into the string of holidays that stretch from Thanksgiving through New Year’s. If we observe it, the season of Advent can give us a chance to take a breath, focus on the meaning of Christ’s birth, prepare our hearts for a sea change.

Abby and Sarah have always felt that this hymn, from the 12^th century, is the only appropriate way to usher in the season. I think that its words delineate the difference between Christianity and religion. First there is the name given for this coming Savior --- Emmanuel, “God with us”. Not “God up there”, or “God on a throne”, or “God with a big naughty or nice list and a long memory”. God…with…us. Then there is the rest of the short refrain: “Emmanuel shall come to thee”. Jesus is the God who comes to us. No more beseeching the heavens, stumbling around in the dark, crying out and hearing only the echo of our prayers.

God with us, come to us. Rejoice!