Category Archives: Holy Days

Pondering Pentecost

When the day of Pentecost had come, they were all together in one place. And suddenly from heaven there came a sound like the rush of a violent wind, and it filled the entire house . . . . Divided tongues, as of fire, appeared among them, and a tongue rested on each of them. All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages, as the Spirit gave them ability.
(Acts 2:1-4 NRSV)

Imagine you were there, in the city for the Pentecost festival, celebrating and giving thanks for the first fruits of the wheat harvest. Maybe you traveled some distance to attend, as was expected of the devout worshippers of the One God. Others were present as residents of Jerusalem, having made the City of David their home some years prior. Whatever the situation, just 50 days prior you had been present for the Passover festival, and now it was Pentecost.

Your memories from Passover were still fresh. You had been among the pilgrims when the One they called Messiah entered the city. You were aware of his arrest just a few days later. Then you heard he had been crucified – another victim of Rome’s brutal sense of justice.

But the most astonishing reports had circulated in the days that followed, that he was somehow once again alive! These reports even reached your home town miles and days away from Jerusalem. Could it be true? Now, back in the Holy City, reports from the grapevine newsfeed were that his followers had resurfaced, and were preaching and teaching in this risen One’s name.

Coming to Jerusalem for a major festival was always a melting pot experience. People of different lands, languages and ethnicities gathered in the common cause of faith and devotion. Jews and God Fearers alike occupied the city, with some Gentiles around, looking to profit off the business opportunities a crowd brings. And, of course, the ever present Romans, keeping – enforcing – the peace.

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A New Commandment

The more memorable congregational moments in my tenure as a pastor often coincided with one of the supporting service types of worship experiences found alongside a high holy season. It wasn’t the Christmas Eve service, for example, so much as perhaps an Advent service leading up to Christmas. And it wasn’t Easter worship, for me, as much as the Maundy Thursday service a few days prior.

I’m thinking of this today on Maundy Thursday. It’s the beginning of the Triduum, the three days beginning with Thursday evening through Easter Sunday, that mark the Paschal celebration of Jesus’ last supper, Garden prayers, arrest, trial, death by crucifixion, burial and resurrection. Each of the events of these days are significant, and each worthy of our attention. But there is an intimacy and togetherness found in the Maundy Thursday observance that has always deeply moved me.

Maybe it was the scene of that upper room, prepared for Jesus and the Twelve to share the Passover. I can imagine these men coming together for their celebration. Already the week in Jerusalem had produced surprising outcomes. There had been the triumphal entry parade, the cleansing of the moneychangers from the Temple, and significant teaching moments by the Messiah. Sharing a Passover meal would be a welcome respite and time of reflection away from the crowds. Yet, this night began with such an unexpected, and to some extent unwelcome, overture from Jesus as he insisted on washing their feet!

Writing this last sentence brings to mind prior Maundy Thursday services where we had some version of foot washing. Truly this act of service is one that makes its recipient humbled. How like Jesus to provide such an object lesson for the Twelve. It must have set a tone for their time together. Through their mix of shame (why didn’t one of them do this?) and having been humbled, they must now have been ready to listen to the Teacher.

Yet, what followed was no less astonishing. Jesus repurposed the Passover to tell of his coming death, assigning new meaning to the bread and the cup, representations of His body and blood which was to be broken and shed for sin – all sin, their sin and ours. Then, as the evening was drawing to a close, John tells us (John 13:34) that He gave them a new commandment. Here is where we get the term “maundy” from the Latin word “mandatum” meaning mandate or command: “love one another, just as I have loved you”.

A good teacher will tell you that presenting a lesson through varied methods raises the likelihood of its being remembered. People retain information more, for example, when they not only hear words, but also put their other senses to the retention. If we “see” a picture retention increases. If we have a “hands on” discovery of learning retention grows even more pronounced. Jesus was a good teacher. He gave His disciples a well-rounded lesson this night that engaged them through multiple mediums of presentation. They heard his words, but they also saw his actions, and they felt his touch. This new commandment, to love one another as He had loved them, would stick because of all the ways His life had and would demonstrate love.

As I reflect back over some of the more meaningful Maundy Thursday worship experiences of years gone by, I think part of their meaning came from the multisensory connections they utilized – sight, sound, touch, taste, light, darkness, silence and more. Jesus did so much more than tell us to love one another, he showed us what love is. He lived love, touched our lives with it, gave us a way to remember it, celebrate it, and share it. Standing on the cusp of another Triduum I’m mindful of this. Maundy Thursday was the opening scene in what would prove to be a meaningful beyond description last act of Jesus’ earthly life and ministry. Just as it prepared His Disciples to become attuned to what was coming, so might it help us to grasp the meaning of these days once again. So might it help us in obedience to His command: “love one another, just as I have loved you”.

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Parade Rest

On this Palm Sunday we turn our attention to the readings of Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem (Mark 11:1ff; Matthew 21:1ff; Luke 19:28ff; John 12:12ff). This is such a story of juxtaposition. On the one hand we have the celebratory acts of what appears to be a spontaneous parade of welcome. People line the street and then cover i,t with their cloaks and palm branches in advance of Jesus’ passing by on the donkey’s colt. It’s the fulfillment of prophecy (Zech. 9:10-11) and in the tradition of a royal or military entrance into the city. Herod or Pilate, in the name of Caesar would have made these kinds of entrances into Jerusalem, though with more might and prestige.

But on the other hand, Jesus’ entrance into the Holy City of David on what we’ve come to call Palm Sunday, while triumphant, was also humble and surrounded with feelings and acts of sorrow and contemplation. Luke records the pause Jesus makes at a scenic overlook (19:41ff) to weep over the city and announce it’s one day overthrow. He then takes the reader with Jesus and the Disciples to the cleansing of the Temple (19:45ff). How can one day encapsulate such differing outcomes?

This is what makes Palm/Passion Sunday such a perfect entry point into Holy Week. It holds in tension these various and opposite emotions that will continue to play forth through this week. We are alerted from the beginning that things are moving toward a climax, which will involve sorrow, suffering, anguish and triumph and victory.

How often life holds these same tensions together. How often gain is companioned by loss, pain comes with joy, suffering precedes celebration. The oxymoron term “parade rest” feels a fit descriptor of this day and all it stands for. Which is it going to be, a parade, or rest? Turns out, both. Jesus will parade into the city in triumph, with the joy and praise of the people, the climax of his mission within sight. And Jesus will rest with the awful truth of what is about to transpire at Calvary. The Disciples will rest with the tension of a Messiah who is at once both the answer to all they’ve prayed for, and an unexpected if not down right confusing messenger of how those prayers will be answered.

The only fitting response to Palm Sunday is to throw ourselves into the mixed responses. We too should proclaim with praise and joy that the King is coming. We should worship this King Jesus and welcome Him into our day, this week, and our lives. But, knowing as we do what lies past the threshold of the week’s opening act, let us also be prepared to “rest” with our King. Let us be ready to visit the hard places of the week, to reflect, confess, weep and keep vigil in the throws of grief and loss. Let us give these days their due as we join the parade and rest along its route.

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A Christmas Prayer

During Advent this year I have been working through a devotional resource called The Promised One published online by Christianity Today. The reading for Sunday, December 18 contained this line that has stayed with me, “Zechariah and Elizabeth’s story offers us perspective on our own seasons of waiting. We’re reminded that there’s no expiration date on our prayers.

I have always found the inclusion of the story of Zechariah and Elizabeth, John the Baptist’s parents, in Luke’s gospel (Luke 1:5-24, 57-80) to be interesting. There are a couple of Old Testament prototypes that foreshadow their story. Abraham and Sarah, as well as Hannah come to mind. These too were folks who knew what it was to wait in prayer. The specific prayer they had on their hearts, like the prayers of Zechariah and Elizabeth, and many couples yet today; was the prayer for a baby. They longed to conceive and become parents, but were hindered in those efforts due to some cause of infertility. Scripture often pronounces it much more pointedly, stating but “Elizabeth was barren, and both were getting on in years.” Have you ever noticed in these instances that it’s usually the woman who is blamed and named as barren? Just saying! Then, to add insult to injury, there’s that comment about their age! It reminds me of trips to the doctor in recent years when his response began “well, at your age”.

But let’s come back to the topic of prayer, and specifically prayer waiting. This line from the devotion, “there’s no expiration date on our prayers” is one that should offer every long suffering prayer warrior hope. Keep praying. Whatever it may be that you are praying about, keep praying.

What lies behind this admonition? Do we “keep praying” in the belief that our prayer will one day be answered as we hope? I’m not sure that’s the rationale. Yes, it worked out for Zechariah and Elizabeth in that their prayer for a baby was finally answered. But there are so many other couples who’ve struggled with infertility that have not had that prayer answered in the same way. So, the admonition to keep praying may not be because prayer will be answered in the way we’ve prescribed, but that prayer will be answered. Prayer will be answered in the way God determines. That may align with our hopes. God may be moved in that direction. But the prayer might also be answered in a different way, an unexpected way.

I suspect the admonition to “keep praying”, as a response to there being no expiration date on our prayers, is an acknowledgement that God’s time is so often not our time. This is where I lift up those Greek words for “time” that we’ve heard, or used, in a sermon: “chronos” and “kairos”. One word speaks to chronology, the sequential measurement of time, as with a calendar; the other speaks to the fullness of time, or God’s time and timing, as with perfect timing or the right time.

The answer to Zechariah and Elizabeth’s prayer, after untold years of praying and maybe being on the verge of giving up, came in the fullness of time as the incarnation came about. Their unexpired prayer was in the ears and on the heart of God as other events aligned in a perfect timing kind of way. John would come as the forerunner of Christ, to prepare the way. The prayers of this faithful couple would come to fruition in ways they’d never imagined. Zechariahs’ temple discovery was that God hears prayers, and God has a long memory when it comes to those prayers.

This reminds me of an experience I had more than once in pastoral ministry alongside the prayers of a faithful spouse, most often a wife, who had spent a lifetime of marriage praying her husband would come to know the Lord. Day in and day out, Sunday in and Sunday out, those prayers were lifted up as she kept her daily practices of faith, and took the children to worship, seated alone without her mate. Perchance he would join her at Easter or Christmas, but there was no pretense of a new pattern, until for some reason there was. I can recall two such men, husbands both who had been prayed over faithfully by believing wives, and others they’d conscripted to pray, who finally gave their hearts to Christ and followed in a profession of faith through baptism. No one was more overjoyed than those faithful praying spouses! They had kept praying, believing that there is no expiration date on a prayer.

At Christmas I’ve often felt led to pray for our world, our nation, and other big items in a special way. I guess it harkens back to the angel’s announcement of “peace on earth and goodwill toward humankind”. This year’s Christmas prayer will include some oft repeated prayers of mine from the past year and years. I pray, for example, for peace in Europe, specifically for the people of Ukraine; but also for peace in Myanmar, and in Haiti and all other parts of the globe where war and violence reign. I pray for a more peaceful nation and homeland, where differences in opinion and outlook are not allowed to fester and divide, where statesmanship will again replace partisanship. I pray for migrant people, many on the move to flee violence, to find peace and know a better life. I pray for mercy from the lands where they go, the shores on which they arrive. I pray for health for all, and that we not weaponize or politicize efforts at healthcare, and that their be greater equity for all people to gain access to it. I pray for congregations to be united and at peace, working together in the cause of Christ’s kingdom. I pray for missionaries who take the good news next door, across the state, nation and globe. I pray for pastors who preach, counsel, guide and work among disciples of Jesus – may they be encouraged in their work, and renewed in their energy. And I pray for families who are apart, that they may be together in-person if possible, and through technology if not, or in spirit at the very least.

I pray these prayers, and invite you to add yours, in the conviction that all prayers are heard, and that no prayers have an expiration date. Merry Christmas. What are you waiting in prayer for this year?

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Matthew’s version of Ancestry.com

In the first chapter of the Gospel of Matthew we encounter a genealogy list. It’s the lineage of Jesus, going back 42 generations. It is listed in three groups of fourteen (Jesus to the Exile, the Exile to King David, and David to Abraham). Ho hum, you might think, as you stumble across all these names; especially if genealogy is not your thing. But let me invite you to linger with this list for a moment. Much as those who dive into Ancestry.com often discover hidden truths, or those who have swabbed their cheek and sent in a “23 and Me” DNA sample learn unknown aspects of their heritage; sitting with Matthew’s version of Jesus’ family tree has its own lessons to reveal.

In addition to such high caliber hall of fame type ancestral names (think Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, David and Hezekiah), there appear the names of five women in Jesus’ genealogy. Not only would it have been uncommon for women to be listed in a patriarchal society, but why the inclusion of these particular women in a male driven system of reporting? What is it that Matthew wants us to know and reflect on as we read names like Tamar, Rahab, Ruth, Bathsheba (listed simply as Uriah’s wife), and Mary?

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