Sunday, October 12, 2014

In Holy Pursuit





John 14:1-12; Psalm 23

            One way to gain a fresh perspective on a very familiar passage of Scripture such as Psalm 23, is to ask yourself how you would choose to make it into a movie.   Imagining God’s Word in this way can really make it come alive with deeper and more relevant meaning.   So, if you could, what kind of movie genre would you pick to bring this Psalm to the big screen of your life and this whole world?
             It’s kind of a Western.    Green pastures.  Still waters.  Moseying along trails in the name of true justice, against a backdrop of gorgeous sunsets sitting atop valley peaks.   I’m definitely seeing The Duke leading the cast.  
            There again, it would certainly work as a classic Drama too.   Beautifully orchestrated soundtrack with lots of close-ups on the face of a solitary figure struggling with the ultimate meaning of life.   Coping with the multifaceted reality of death, starving for protection, goodness and mercy.  At the end of this bit of Masterpiece Theater, I see a very moving scene taking place at a church fellowship dinner.   A Sally Field sort of flick.
            I also think Psalm 23 could possibly be a comedy.    Comedy movies depend on exaggerating relationships and situations.  The good ones do this to hammer home profound truth about the vulnerabilities we all face.    Think Mrs. Doubtfire.   And maybe, just maybe, there could be a slapstick scene with God preparing a place at the table for enemies while cups are running over.   Morgan Freeman, of course, would once again be cast in this role.   Though the late George Burns would be my choice, mostly on account of his wife’s theologically oriented name, Gracie. 
            Of the different options for how to depict Psalm 23 in film, I’d be most excited to direct it as an action movie.    I know it’s usually read at somber but faithfully calming occasions such as funerals and so it might be hard to think of these words in a much livelier way.  But bear with me and my biblically stirred up imagination as we dig a little deeper into the original language and historical context with which Psalm 23 was written.
               I’m seeing an epic action movie.  Think the Hollywood versions of the Lord of the Rings or the Chronicles of Narnia.    I see malicious, evil villains pursuing groups of innocent people up mountainsides and back down through dark valleys.   I see homes suddenly abandoned by this terrible persecution, the food of family meals left behind on dinner tables.  
            The film would focus on one of these fleeing people in particular.    We first see him hiding behind a tree, scared to death of moving out into the open.    His facial expressions reveal a soul suffering great loss and struggling to find some kind of true protection in the presence of so many enemies.
            Then, seemingly out of nowhere, the film’s hero swiftly appears.    He is a man of action, yet he walks calmly through all the chaos.    He has come to defeat evil enemies, yet he wears a simple cloak instead of high tech armor and carries a shepherd’s staff instead of a machete.   
            Safely bypassing the flurry of furious attacks, the hero walks directly to the protection seeking soul sequestered behind the tree.   With powerfully gentle words and an immediately trustworthy presence, he coaxes this character to come out from behind the barrier and walk beside him.   “There is a safe and serene place,” he says, “that I have already gone ahead and prepared for you.  Yes, even in the midst of all this deadly strife.  I’ve come back to lead you there.”   
            But the camera pans in close and we see that the still frightened soul isn’t sure whether or not to trust the one come to the rescue.   An incredible promise had been made by this one-of-a-kind hero, yet something sinful stirs deep within, questioning whether or not it’s better to take on the chances of survival alone.   The soundtrack booms a dramatic timpani as this deep questioning triggers an impulsive, action packed sprint away from the hero and back through the deep woods.   But the hero is undeterred by the distrust.  He turns in steadfast pursuit, staff in hand and unwilling to let the struggling soul perish.   
            At the climax of this blockbuster movie, we see beautifully cinematic scenes of complete restoration.  Both the rescued and his Rescuer are reclining side by side in a wide open green pasture beside still water.  They have just enjoyed a feast, the remains of which are on a nearby picnic table and still being enjoyed by the surprising company of former enemies.   We realize then that the hero had gone before to set the table on behalf of them all and then gone back in pursuit of getting them all to experience goodness and mercy.
            I would title this action movie, “In Holy Pursuit.”   My inspiration for this comes from the last verse of the famous Psalm – “Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life.”   These are comforting words of blessed assurance.  They remind us that our Lord doesn’t ever abandon us.    But that’s not all.  There’s a deeper meaning, one that makes this scene more fitting to be directed by the likes of epic director Peter Jackson than of the good but slow moving films directed these days by Clint Eastwood.   
            What do you think of when you read and hear the word “follow”?   Steadily walking behind someone?   If so, then this Psalm suggests the goodness and mercy of our Lord steadily walks behind us wherever we may wander.    
            This English word, however, is a translation of a Hebrew word that has a significantly different shade of meaning.   The original word means “to ardently pursue, to run after with the aim of securing.”  It’s the same word used in Exodus to describe the Pharaoh’s army in pursuit of the Israelites.    In Psalm 23, of course, it’s not a figurehead of evil minions giving chase, it’s the font of all blessings. [i]    And this is in direct contrast to the divine goodness and mercy pursuing Psalm 23’s author, King David, for it is widely believed that this was written in the aftermath of his son Absalom’s attempt to assassinate him.    He was in full flight out of Jerusalem, hoping to stay alive.   Talk about an epic action movie!  And all the while, David trusted the Lord to both go ahead of him to prepare the way and to run after him with the intention of securing his salvation.    He trusted the Good Shepherd would pursue him and ultimately carry him safely home to the house of God forever. 
            Psalm 23 offers the comfort and security that our Good Shepherd continues to do the same for us by victoriously outrunning evil, pursuing and persuading us to let him lead us all into His peaceable kingdom.   When it comes right down to it, the most accurate genre for this Psalm is that of an epic love story.
            I’ll leave you with a modern day scene of this amazing and all inclusive love in action.   The setting is Iraq, biblically known as Babylonia.  It’s 1993 and Lt. Col. Gary Morsch is wearing fifty pounds of body armor while riding in the back of a Humvee next to a gunner.   He was on the road to Baghdad serving as a field doctor.   Also in the Humvee was his very sick patient – a POW.   With the constant reality of suicide bombers and snipers all around his convoy, as well as feeling lonely and homesick, he struggled within himself to accept why he was risking his life for an enemy.  
            It was a Sunday.   He was also depressed about missing chapel service.   I really like this guy!  But he had an iPod music player with 1,000 songs on it to chase away his sorrow.   He set it to random and the first song to fill his weary head and heart was by the Brooklyn Tabernacle Choir singing these words – “Surely the presence of the Lord is in this place, I can feel His mighty power and His grace: I can hear the brush of angels' wings, I see glory on each face; surely the presence of the Lord is in this place."  
            He immediately felt led into a deep sense of powerfully abiding peace.   It was like nothing he’d ever felt before.   God was around him, above him, within him.   With tears running down his dusty cheeks, he peered out the thick, bulletproof windows of the Humvee.  In that desolate enemy place, he saw “Iraqis in their flowing robes, their mud-walled houses, children at play, tall and stately palm trees.”   He sensed God in all he saw … with the Shiites, the Sunnis, the Kurds. God was surely there.[ii]
            We’re all part of each and every setting where Psalm 23 comes alive.  Go out into the week ahead willing to be directed and protected by the Good Shepherd’s love all along good paths and through the darkest valleys.   And if you stray, don’t ever worry.   Just trust that our Lord is always in holy pursuit of your heart.   Amen.  



[i] http://www.blueletterbible.org/lang/lexicon/lexicon.cfm?Strongs=H7291&t=KJV
[ii] Lt. Col. Gary Morsch (as told to Dean Nelson), "God Is Here, Too," Today's Christian (November/December 05)

Sunday, October 5, 2014

Fruit Producing People








World Communion Sunday Meditation 2014
Psalm 80:1-11; Matthew 21:33-46


            In the West Africa country of Togo, people remember Jesus by drinking from a hollowed-out gourd cut in half while sitting under a tree or a thatch-roofed mud building.  
            In Kathmandu, Eastern Napal, people remember Jesus by drinking green colored grape juice.   In France, many remember Jesus by standing and pondering before partaking.  
            In Saudi Arabia, small groups of believers remember Jesus by meeting in secret, thousands of miles away from their homes, to share the sacred meal.  
            In one American mega-church, folks remember Jesus by opening a shrink wrapped all-in-one wafer and juice cup. 
            In a nearby urban Presbyterian congregation, there are those who remember Jesus by gathering in front of the church building and offering ritual hospitality to anyone passing by.
            There are all kinds of contexts for Christians to gather and remember Jesus through the sacrament of the Lord’s Supper.   What’s in the cup and the kind of bread that is offered vary, but everyone experiencing this sacrament does so to remember the life, death, burial and resurrection of Jesus Christ.   We do so to joyfully remember God’s constant presence.  We do so to remember that Jesus is our vine and we are the vine branches producing holy fruit by God’s grace and through our faith.
            Roger Pritchett, who served as a missionary in Kenya for eight years, has remarked that “It is remarkable to think that at any given time — from sometime on Saturday until Monday — people around the world are celebrating the body and blood of Jesus in a way similar to me.  Our fellowship in that sacred feast may be the single strongest bond among believers of all cultures this side of heaven.”[i]
            Today is World Communion Sunday.  It’s a special day on our church calendar for celebrating the faithful, sacramental solidarity we share with Christians across the globe.   We typically serve fruit of the vine and bread by having our ordained church leaders pass a special plate with personal sized portions to the people sitting in each pew.    Today, as able, we will do so by standing, forming a line, and coming forward to break off a piece of bread to be dipped into a common chalice.    We will do so to recall that for many of our faithful brothers and sisters, gathering to receive the sacrament isn’t as easy or safe as getting in a car for a short drive to a local church.   And we will do so to recall that each time we walk to the Lord’s Table, it can be a fresh discovery of the life transforming bonds found across the Christian faith.
            For author Sara Miles, the very first taste of communion proved to be very powerful indeed.  In her book titled, Take This Bread, she writes the following –
            “One early, cloudy morning, when I was forty-six, I walked into a church, ate a piece of bread, took a sip of wine. A routine Sunday activity for tens of millions of Americans—except that up until that moment I'd led a thoroughly secular life, at best indifferent to religion, more often appalled by its fundamentalist crusades. This was my first communion. It changed everything.  Eating Jesus, as I did that day to my great astonishment, led me against all my expectations to a faith I'd scorned and work I'd never imagined. The mysterious sacrament turned out to be not a symbolic wafer but actual food—indeed, the bread of life. In that shocking moment of communion, filled with a deep desire to reach for and become part of a body, I realized that what I'd been doing with my life all along was what I was meant to do: feed people.   And so I did. I took communion, I passed the bread to others, and then I kept going, compelled to find new ways to share what I had experienced.”[ii]
            This singular, powerful experience inspired Sara Miles so much that she went on to found an Episcopal Church ministry in San Francisco called The Food Pantry, whose mission is to increase access to food for hungry people, and empower them to help each other.[iii]
            As Presbyterians, we believe that the crucified and risen Christ comes to us in the bread and juice of Communion.  The substance of these elements doesn’t change.   We aren’t really eating flesh and blood.   Yet as a sacrament, these are more than just symbolic.  We believe the Holy Spirit moves in such a profound way so as to unite us with all the faithful on earth as it is in heaven.   It’s an eternally big thanksgiving family meal.   As this happens, we “learn the incomparable joy of keeping company with the Savior of the World.” 
            How will your experience of this today further transform your life?  How will it fill you with fresh inspiration and faithful energy?  How will it help you feel connected in Christ with people of various languages and cultures?
            The tradition of World Communion Sunday began in a Presbyterian church.  It was led by the Rev. Dr. Hugh Thompson Kerr at Shadyside Presbyterian in Pittsburgh, PA.  The year was 1933.   It was a year of bridge building – at least on the San Francisco Bay, when construction of the Golden Gate began.   Other kinds of bridges were being built too, such as the Blaine Act’s ending of prohibition in the United States.  Mount Rushmore was officially dedicated and FDR declared “The only thing we have to fear, is fear itself” amidst the Great Depression and just a few years before the start of World War II.    
            In this broader context, it was the Stewardship Committee of Shadyside who launched World Communion Sunday.    Not for fundraising purposes, but for faith raising purposes.   According to Dr. Kerr’s son, “It was their attempt to bring churches together in a service of Christian unity — in which everyone might receive both inspiration and information, and above all, to know how important the Church of Jesus Christ is, and how each congregation is interconnected one with another.”[iv]  And so today, this tradition continues “around the world, demonstrating that the church founded on Jesus Christ peacefully shares God-given goods in a world increasingly destabilized by globalization and global market economies based on greed.”[v]
            Jesus always sets the table.   And we do well to take notice of how he sets the table with the parable of the landowner we just read and heard.   
            When you give this further consideration, keep asking this question – Who does the rejecting?   
            We know Jesus, the Son of God, was rejected and put to death by outsiders to his ministry.   Yet in this parable, the ones betraying the vineyard owner, God,  are the tenants, the insiders, the leaders who are supposed to cultivate the vineyard to God’s glory alone by helping produce the fruit of Christ’s kingdom.  
            In a very stark and stern way, then, this parable warns every Christian across the globe not to betray our unity and purpose in the Lord.   It’s a reminder to carefully keep attending to the vine that was brought up out of Egypt and deeply rooted from land to sea.   
            So let’s come together and come forward to be reminded and to be strengthened in loving solidarity.   Let’s taste the vine from which we are branches.  Today, but certainly not just today.   Let’s hum in our hearts as we recall the churches one foundation, the “Elect from every nation, Yet one o'er all the earth;
Her charter of salvation, One Lord, one faith, one birth; One holy name she blesses, partakes one holy food, And to one hope she presses, with every grace endued.” (Samuel J. Stone)
            Amen.

 
           




[i] http://www.christianchronicle.org/article/practices-may-vary-but-churches-around-the-world-share-in-sweet-communion#sthash.jz1COHvD.dpuf
[ii] Sara Miles, Take This Bread (Ballantine Books, 2008), xi
[iii] http://thefoodpantry.org
[iv] https://www.presbyterianmission.org/ministries/worship/world-communion-sunday/
[v] ibid