Throughout Lent, we will be posting daily devotionals to help our community spiritually prepare for the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ.
Throughout Lent, we will be posting daily devotionals to help our community spiritually prepare for the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ.
Relevant Scripture: 1 Cor. 1:10-18
Gung hei fat choy! Happy New Year of the Rat to everyone. I should probably also say “sam dai tsim hang,” be healthy, given our present worries. It is a scary time, but it is also a time of the year in which people are meant to come together to celebrate a new year and new life. So the question on the mind of so many is whether the joys of friends and family outweighs the risks of traveling in crowded conditions during a disease outbreak. But St. Paul’s message to the Corinthians is that the power of fellowship should always outweigh fear and division. This is why we have also been celebrating Christian unity over the past week.
I can think of no more important time for Christians to be united than the present, when it seems like politics and fear is making us even more divided. Blue and Yellow, Mainland versus local, sick and not sick. But lately, the idea of unity has been a complicated one for me and the denomination that I call home. Some of you will remember that I am a Methodist, a United Methodist to be specific. We’re a slightly different sort than Hong Kong Methodists, whose big churches you can find in Wan Chai. We certainly all share the theology of British evangelist John Wesley, but my church is a distinctively North American variety. Part of the meaning behind our name “united” is that we are the union of several different Methodist denominations, two of which had originally divided over the issue of slavery. What you may not have heard is that U.S. Methodists are—ironically—preparing to split again.
The cause of this split is…as you can probably guess… the issue of same-sex relationships. My church has been debating this controversy for quite some time. Theologically, the question is whether language that condemns homosexuality should be removed from our doctrine, what we call our Book of Discipline. Practically and pastorally, the question is whether LGBTQ+ clergy can be public about their sexual orientation. Of course, the most visible issue is whether pastors are allowed to perform same-sex weddings (some have already been doing without permission). This theological question is unresolved, but in December, a group of bishops did agree, in principle, that the more conservative churches would split off to form their own new Methodist denomination, while the main church will finally remove its prohibitions on the LGBTQ+ community. It’s not certain that this will happen, but the whole church will likely vote in favor of it in May.
My reaction to this news was not sadness but relief. The time, energy and resources spent on the matter has been wasteful and embarrassing. I don’t mean to dismiss the importance of a church being fully welcoming of all human beings, regardless of their sexual orientation, but we should not have spent years on just a small section of text! For me, the theological question is one that is easily answered using tools already available in Wesley’s balanced approach to doing theology. This involves four sources of wisdom and authority: First you have Scripture—the Hebrew and Christian accounts of God’s work in history. These texts say something about God’s relationship to humankind. Second, Scripture is always read and acted out through many different liturgical and theological traditions. Third, we have our human experience. Outside of the Bible and church, we encounter the living God everywhere and at every moment in our lives. Finally, there is a source authority that we often forget about: our reason. Together, all four of these sources of wisdom are needed to form a complete picture of human life in relation to God.
I don’t see how you can reasonably say, in this day in age, that someone who is gay cannot be fully welcomed into a community meant to incarnate God’s unconditional love. A few instances of Scripture condemning a particular lifestyle cannot overturn our experience that gay couples are just as capable of receiving and expressing this love. Of course, there are many Methodists and other Christians who would disagree with this position, but maybe this means that my church was already split a long time ago over this theological question. Instead, the conflict that we have had over the last couple of decades—and the one that may be finally coming to an end—was never a theological one, but rather a political one. One side was trying to gain the power to change the church, while the other sought the means to silence these reformers. Both did so in the name of keeping the church “united”. My hope is that both sides have realized that such a battle is not worth it, or even reflective of Christ’s love.
But wait—how can we reconcile this kind of division with what Paul writes to the Church in Corinth? Are we not to be united in the same mind and purpose? Does this not mean Christians should not divide themselves into factions and denominations?
But unity is not the same as homogeneity, or sameness. Is notable that the Apostle describes the dispute as if the Corinthians are identifying with different Christian leaders, including himself and St. Peter (here called Cephas). Whether or not this is the real cause of the Corinthian’s dispute, Paul here is cleverly reminding us of the relationships that existed between the first Christian evangelists. Even during the early church, those going forth to preach the Gospel would have had their own interpretations of Jesus’ life and ministry. It is only natural that those Christians baptized and taught by different individuals would express similarly diverse views.
Famously, Peter and Paul differed over the status of the gentiles. While Peter is described as being more interested in converting Jews, Paul was more cosmopolitan in his mission. He emphasized that Christ died on behalf of all, and that grace could be received by anyone regardless of culture, ethnicity and language; To him, there was neither Jew nor Greek. Given this attitude, it’s natural that he would be against factional divisions.
But just because Paul cautions us against disagreement doesn’t mean we can’t have strong differences of opinion. Christians come from all walks of life and cultures, and this is something that the apostle affirmed. What Paul refused to do is allow such disagreements to get in the way of what was important—that is, the divine love incarnated and offered through Jesus Christ, our light and salvation. The Corinthians’ disputes were overshadowing this key Truth. For Paul, we are baptized in Christ’s name, not in the name of Peter, Paul or Apollos. Not in the name of John Wesley or John Calvin, Pope Benedict or Pope Francis. We are different denominations, but we are all baptized into one Christian community.
The difficulty for Christians is distinguishing between those divisions that weaken us, and the differences that can actually strengthen us. From Paul’s perspective, the differences of belief and practice had become so divisive in the Corinthian church that they threatened to weaken and destroy it. This is something a young Christian community, part of a minority religion, could not afford. But today our religion faces no such problem. Diversity of mind and practice is our strength not our weakness, and disagreement is not a problem…unless we lose focus on Christ. That is our only existential threat.
My church lost focus on what was important. We wanted to stay united as an organization, but that came at the cost of being disunited as Christians. Together we spent years, decades even, fighting over something important, but that something that was only part of the bigger picture.
Splitting certainly won’t be easy. As a child of divorce I know that, while sometimes it is best to separate, it is an incredibly difficult adjustment. Pastors and congregations will have to make the difficult decision of whether to stay in the UMC or not. It’s likely that my hometown church will vote to leave. My hope is that this grief can be part of a healing process, that we can learn to work better together as separate communities that still share one communion. This is how it is between most Protestant communities, including this one. And of course, I hope that eventually the other side will become more open about sexual orientation and we can potentially come back together, just as the Northern and Southern Methodist churches eventually did.
While this issue has been a personal one for me, and not likely to impact our community here, it is an experience that carries universal meaning. We have to be careful that when we fight for unity, we are not pushing a false unity that suppresses diverse opinions or, worse, doesn’t allow anyone to express any opinion at all! Even if our disputes lead to political separation, if they allow us to work together to pursue God’s love and justice in the world, then we are still united in following the same Christ. To quote Wesley: though we cannot think alike, can we not love alike?
Amen.
Readings:
A long, long time ago a wise person once said: “Do or do not. There is no ‘try’.” Today’s Gospel reminded me of these words, spoken by a Master named Yoda to a young man named Luke. The young Jedi apprentice had been ready to give up. His X-Wing was stuck in the Dagoban swamp, and with it, his only hope of getting off the planet to save his friends. He had looked at that big ship and thought: “No way. I can’t possibly use the force and pick that thing up. It’s too heavy. But I will ‘try’”, he tells Yoda. But the Master says in response that there is no such thing as “try”. Just do it. Or don’t do it.
Luke still does not understand what Yoda is trying to tell him. And so he “tries” to lift his ship out the swamp. And of course he fails. Discouraged, Luke just starts to walk away. But Yoda, this short, scrawny little elf of an old man, just *sighs*, gestures, and telekinetically lifts this twenty-ton spacecraft out of the muck.
By now you’ve probably realized that I am making a Star Wars reference. If not, I will credit that to cultural differences or poor upbringing. I use this example because, despite being fictional, this is a very poignant and meaningful moment in the film. At least, it is a poignant moment in a movie series about planet-killing space stations and laser swords!
Star Wars was inspired by mythological, Biblical and other religious stories such as the one in Luke 17. Like Luke, Jesus and his disciples are facing many challenges. They have had considerable success, gathering quite the following among the people. But most of these followers are the poor, sick and outcast, and they have to be taken care of. They also have lawyers and pharisees challenging them at every turn, and the Judean and Roman authorities are certainly breathing down their necks.
And even at this stage of their learning, the disciples are still not entirely sure what Jesus is all about. From their perspective, he has said many surprising things, speaking about loving one’s enemies and forgiving those who would do them harm. He has taught radical compassion and healed the the poor, sick and even sinful. He has offered hospitality to non-Jews. Even more concerning, he has made cryptic statements like “the son of man must suffer many terrible things.”
Faced with the immensity of their tasks ahead, and a creeping doubt, they thus ask Jesus to “increase their faith.” I do wonder what exactly they are asking for here. Do they want Jesus to perform a miracle? To prove, somehow, that he is indeed the Son of God, and that all he has said is true? Had they not really understood the last parable, the one that Judy preached on last week? The rich man thought coming back from the dead would convince his brothers to repent. But they were not convinced by the prophets, so why would they believe him? Jesus’ point is that no matter how many miracles he performed, this would not inspire true faith in him as the Son of God. Faith is not the same thing as belief through evidence. You either choose to have faith, or you don’t.
But today the disciples’ request is not to “give them faith”, but to “increase their faith.” They claim to have faith, but now they think they need more of it. Perhaps they need more encouragement, more confidence, maybe even more evidence. This all fits a basic pattern of the Gospel, where over and over again people keep asking Jesus to give them reasons to believe that he really is the Son of God.
Clearly, even now, the disciples have not grasped the full meaning of the parable, and are misunderstanding the nature of faith. Jesus, as expected, rebukes them. This time, though, he alters his phrasing to match their own, talking about the quantity of faith. He bluntly states that it only takes faith the size of a mustard seed to tell a mulberry tree to go into the sea. Now, I can’t imagine any instance where we would need to put a mulberry tree in the sea, but this is Jesus’ pithy way of saying that the power of faith is not in the amount of it that you have, but rather the quality. If it is true faith, just a little of it can do a lot!
Luke Skywalker’s mistake was that he understood “the force” far too literally. He was thinking in terms of the physical forces, which are bound by certain laws. Therefore he thought the bigger the object, the stronger he had to be, or put another way, the more force power he needed to possess in order to pick up his spacecraft with his mind. But that is not how the force works! You either have control over it, or you don’t. To control it requires a clear mind, confidence in yourself, and…dare I say it, faith in the force. One must trust that with the force, you can lift anything. Faith is trust that anything is possible through God.
That is not so say that it’s easy. As Christians we can have moments of skepticism or doubt about the truth of the Gospel. If you are like me, you have constantly questioned whether God is truly there amid all the suffering we see around us. Lately this suffering has been right in front of us, with all the anxiety and despair that has crept into Hong Kong. It’s painful to watch as hope and trust gives way to cynicism and paranoia. But faith can involve worry and doubt. And we should be able to be skeptical or critical of the Gospel, while also hanging onto to faith.
Faith is not something we have more or less of, nor is it always appropriate to describe it as “strong” or “weak”. The worry here is that if we do so, we start thinking of it as something material that we can exchange or accumulate, like currency. Some Christians like to use phrases like “you should have more faith” or “be more faithful to God”. But what they really mean is that you should “believe” this or that, or you should “do” this or that. What they means is that having a strong faith means belonging to our church, not that church, and agreeing with what we say, not what they say.
In the U.S. there are some televangelists who will go on camera, and they will pray intensely. You know they are praying intensely because they will contort their faces to it looks like this. As if it’s possible to “pray harder” and generate more spiritual power by straining your facial muscles. They will say things like “Oh Jesus, you are our steadfast rock, our ship through these turbulent waters. You will save those who truly have faith…and to show you our faith we should, we should. No, you! You should…should send us…send our church…a check for two hundred dollars! This makes faith something material that we accumulate and exchange for God’s love and grace.
The second part of today’s Gospel does not seem related to the first, at least not in the literary sense. Suddenly you go from a cute aphorism to a longer, more difficult metaphor—one that actually makes people uncomfortable today. This text and others like it were once used to justify the institution of slavery in my country. But we need to view it historically. Jesus was not arguing in defense of slavery, which did exist during his time period. Rather, he was using this contemporary example as a metaphor for how we should relate to God. If understood that way, then there is a strong connection between the two parts of today’s Gospel. Like the servants coming in from the field, our faith in God does not earn us any special privileges. It does not bring us any further reward. Faith is its own reward. God simply wants us to have it and He wants us to let it guide us in positive ways.
And it’s certainly true that our faith can lead us down the wrong path. Christians have done unspeakable acts in the name of faith. We do this because we don’t take the time to think about what having faith really means. Some, I worry, still think of faith as pure force like Luke Skywalker did. As mental, emotional and physical energy. Thinking in this way moves us not toward peace, but causes us to violently confront those we think of as enemies, whether they are politicians, policemen, school children or foreigners. But that is not true faith in God, but faith in something less than God. That is ideology and idolatry.
Faith is not blind loyalty, fear or cowardice. It is, as Paul tells Timothy, a spirit of love and self-discipline. And once we understand this, it becomes OK to finally use words like “strong” or “weak”. A strong faith is actually one that resists the temptation to show personal strength, to lash out at those who threaten us. A weak faith is one that gives into that temptation. What we have to do is let go of that desire for strength. That means letting go of our will and accepting God’s will.
What God asks from us is not something for ourselves and according to our own works, but according to His own purpose and grace. And this is what makes faith difficult, because His purpose is not always clear. It involves waiting quietly for God to reveal Himself, for God act first, as Lamentations 3 tells us. That space, where we wait quietly for God, is the place of true faith.
Now, it is not a passive space. We don’t just sit there and do nothing. But what we do is take the time to listen for God, through prayer and meditation. In doing so, and by exercising true faith, we make room in our hearts for God to speak to us about how we can meet any challenge. And how we can do so through peaceful and loving action. Sometimes this can involve small acts of what we might call defiance, which can seem forceful. And that’s true for any action! But the difference is that such actions come through faith in spirit, not faith in brute force.
Amen.
Readings:
Dear Sisters and brothers in Christ Jesus,
The weeks between All Saints’ Day and Advent aim at bringing our lives in tune with God’s Kingdom. Somehow these Sundays include the expectation of Advent for the coming of Christ – however not only looking forward to his first coming as a the God incarnate, but to his second coming. But in both seasons, it’s all about the coming or manifestation of God’s kingdom.
When Jesus had his earthly ministry, the power of God’s rule was there wherever Jesus was present among people: people were set free from destructive patterns of life. Furthermore, he wanted to set the standard of a new way of living as he invited people to be his disciples. God’s kingdom is about the goal of creation and salvation history i.e. a redeemed humankind that is the body of Christ. Life is fulfilled as each one of us serves one another and the whole in love, following Jesus’ example.
In the readings today we find different aspects of this coming kingdom and how the coming kingdom manifests itself in our present-day life.
Isaiah describes the coming rule of God as a restoration of Jerusalem. Houses will be rebuilt, people will enjoy the fruits of their labour, and all will have a long and blessed life. And Isaiah ends with a vision of the harmonious living together of humans and nature. “The wolf and the lamb shall feed together, the lion shall eat straw like the ox; but the serpent–its food shall be dust! They shall not hurt or destroy on all my holy mountain, says the LORD.” And God will never be far away; when they call out for him, he will listen and answer and be with them. This future kingdom is almost Paradise re-found.
The epistle has some suggestions for living a proper disciple-life not associating with people living opposite to the Gospel-values. It focuses on honest work and warns against idleness. St. Paul doesn’t mention the second coming of Christ in this section of his letter, but it is an overarching theme in 2 Thessalonians. Thus, we prepare ourselves for the coming kingdom of God not only through spiritual exercises, but in an honest daily life and in sound human relationships.
In the Gospel Jesus prepares his disciples for some of the trials that will precede the coming of God’s kingdom in its final consummation. There is the danger of falling from the faith in Christ, there are wars and insurrections and rumors of war, nature will be out of order, and there will be persecutions of the disciples. But the Holy Spirit will come to their assistance. All the difficulties give the disciples a chance to testify to the truth of the Gospel; they will make Christ known.
Thes last half years we have witnessed almost apocalyptic scenes in Hong Kong. Is there any chance for the protesters to see their quest for freedom fulfilled? Which side will win the struggle? To whom belong the victory? Or is only Ragnarök, annihilation, the flames of doom and perdition the end result?
In my reflections on the HK situation and today’s readings I turned to chapter 2 and 3 in the book of Revelation to see what Jesus would say to the congregations in Minor Asia in times of spiritual struggle, remembering that the word “conquer” is used at the end of each of these letters from Jesus to the congregations. This made me ask, what is victory? What is it to conquer? If I shall call no man my enemy and love those who harm me, and pray for my persecutors – how shall I understand “victory” and “to conquer”?
Answer:
To conquer is never to subdue another person, it is not to make yourself stronger and superior to others. To conquer is to succeed in growing into the likeness of my Son, Jesus Christ.
To conquer is to die from your old identity, your fallen identity. Your old identity was one of self-interest, of creating your own success – often at the cost of the happiness of others. To conquer is to repent and change the direction of your life; to conquer is to rely on my Son and in the power of my Spirit to enter a brand-new life. When you have died from yourself, you’ll share the throne of Christ with him.
To conquer is to believe in my promises and to follow the Word, to serve in love, patience and faithfulness – even as you meet contradiction, persecution and slander. To conquer is to call others into faith. You will be like a pillar in my heavenly temple and my Son’s name will be yours.
To conquer is to find your first love and to grow in your faith relationship with me. To conquer is to grow in love for your fellow disciples and to serve them with the gifts that my Spirit bestows on you.
To conquer is to care for the stranger and the one who opposes you – and to care for creation that suffers because of human exploitation.
The one who conquers will eat from the tree of life and be nourished by the bread from heaven – and my Son will always be with you and you will always be in his company.
May be there’s some hope in Jesus’ way of turning around the meaning of the words we use as when the conqueror is the one “acts justly and loves mercy and walks humbly with our God.” (Micah 6:8)
Glory to the Father, Son and Holy Spirit as it was in the beginning, now is and ever shall be world without end. Amen.
Readings: Jeremiah 31:27-34; 2 Timothy 3:14-4:5; Luke 18:1-8
Dear sisters and brothers in Christ Jesus,
Today Jesus admonishes us to pray always and never give up.
Prayer is a hallmark of Christian faith practice. We are waiting for the full manifestation of God’s Kingdom, and this is the reason for Jesus today to exhort us to pray always (Luke 18:1). At other occasions he admonishes us to be on the watch by praying (Luke 21:36), and to be alert! “You do not know when that time will come (Mark 13:33).
Also the apostles exhorts us to pray incessantly: “Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.” (1 Thessalonians 4:7) We should pray when we are in a spiritual conflict; it’s through prayer that we put on the armour of God so that we will stand against the devil’s schemes. ”And pray in the Spirit on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests. With this in mind, be alert and always keep on praying for all the Lord’s people.Pray also for me, that whenever I speak, words may be given me so that I will fearlessly make known the mystery of the gospel for which I am an ambassador in chains. Pray that I may declare it fearlessly, as I should.” (Ephesians 6).
How should we practice incessant prayer? On the personal level we may somehow have a prayerful awareness in the middle of ordinary life, and thus often communicate with God. This prayerful awareness all day long is the same as living in never ending prayer even though we do not speak out loudly or think prayers all the time. We just know that our life is walking with Jesus. The prayerful awareness means that conscious contact with God can be made at every moment.
As a help to have this prayerful awareness it’s good to have specific more or less fixed times for prayer during the day. The first church in Jerusalem as well as the early church had prayer times several times every day, but most importantly at evening and at morning. In Acts 2 we read:
42 They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and to fellowship, to the breaking of bread and to prayer.43 Everyone was filled with awe at the many wonders and signs performed by the apostles. 44 All the believers were together and had everything in common. 45 They sold property and possessions to give to anyone who had need.46 Every day they continued to meet together in the temple courts. They broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts, 47 praising God and enjoying the favor of all the people. And the Lord added to their number daily those who were being saved.
And from Acts 3 we know that it was for the appointed prayers in the Temple that the apostles met in the temple courts:
1One day Peter and John were going up to the temple at the time of prayer—at three in the afternoon.
The apostles knew that it pleased God to receive the prayers of his people, since God had ordered the prayer times in his Law (cf. e.g. Numbers 28:1–8). Outside Jerusalem there was no Temple, but this didn’t hinder the first generation of Christians to assemble for prayer, e.g 1 Corinthians 14:26-33. And the purpose was to make “petitions, prayers, intercession and thanksgiving … for all people for kings and all those in authority, that we may live peaceful and quiet lives in all godliness and holiness. This is good, and pleases God our Savior, who wants all people to be saved and to come to a knowledge of the truth.” (1 Timothy 2:1-4).
These daily prayer times, especially evening and morning, has set the pattern for the daily prayer life of the church and of individual Christians up to now – not the least in Orthodox, Catholic and Anglican churches – and we also do so on weekdays in Christ Temple: Morning, Midday and Evening.
These fixed hours for prayer set the pattern for our daily prayerful awareness of being in God’s presence.
Another help for this incessant prayer is to use short prayers that are easy to remember. You may change Bible verses that contain Christ’s promises into short prayers. As an example you may have read Romans 8.38-39:
For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.
You may want to remember this promise. To do so you extract the essence of the promise and make it into a short prayer:
No
power on earth
can separate me from
the love of God
that is in Christ
Jesus.
God, I thank you!
Now you have a short prayer that you may use at any time and in any place, even the most stressing situations as you need to affirm your contact with Jesus Christ
Such a short prayer is a kind of affirmation.
Athanasios the great Egyptian church father told this story that may illustrate the use of affirmative prayers: Christians sometimes are like the citizens in a city that is besieged by enemies. The enemy scorns the citizens and threatens them so that they lose heart and feel despair and hopelessness. But the king has a secret way into the city, and he raises his banner. Now the enemy is discouraged and flees from the presence of the king. Our affirmative prayer is like the banner of the king.
You affirm the presence of Christ or God as well as your confidence in God-in-Christ to God himself, to yourself, and you confront every life-threatening power. Thereby reality often is experienced in a new way consistent to the content of your affirmation. This kind of short prayers helps us into the experience that Christ is with us always – even unto the ends of the earth and the end of times.
The difficulties we experience these days in Hong Kong, the despair and hopelessness call for a prayerful presence in the city we love. We may not be able to change much but praying we carry Christ in our hearts to the City. He is among us; he is with us and in us, and thus he is present in the city. We represent the Kingdom of God into the rule of chaos, despair, violence, suppression. We will not surrender to hopelessness as the one who wrote this graffiti: “Give us freedom, or burn with us.” With our prayer and affirmation of faith in Christ’s promise to be with us always, we will keep the door open for people to choose life, to hope rather than the burning fire of Ragnarök.
No power on earth,
no
political oppression, no use of force, no desperate violence
can separate Hong
Kongers from the love of God
that is in Christ
Jesus.
God, we thank you!
I hope these thoughts may help you to pray always and never give up.
Glory be to the Father, Son and Holy Spirit
as it was in the beginning, now is, and ever shall be. Amen
Fifth Sunday of Easter (May 19, 2019)
Dear sisters and brothers in Christ Jesus,
The readings for today points in many directions. In the first reading Peter defends his being guest in a pagan household and baptizing gentiles. Being told by God to let aside prejudges and conceptions of other humans as being unclean or unfit for God’s kingdom, he goes to the house of Cornelius, and as Christ baptizes the assembly with the Holy Spirit in a way similar to the day of Pentecost, why shouldn’t they also be baptized in water and be recognized as full members of the Body of Christ? They were meant by God to be fellow pilgrims following the Way – or in Chinese following Tao; they too were friends of Tao – the living Word of God, who became one of us; he who is the way, the truth and the life.
The second reading takes us to the ends of time. Creation has been redeemed and restored to become a new heaven and a new earth, and the redeemed human race lives in the new Jerusalem coming down from heaven as the bride of Christ. In the restored creation God has God’s dwelling place with humans; there’ll be no separation, and all old wounds and pains will be healed. This is what awaits the disciples of Jesus. He makes everything new, and yet he who is the end was also the beginning; as the Omega, as the final goal (Telos) of evolution or creation, he was also the originator, the Alpha, the driving force or energy of creation towards its fulfilment.
The Gospel brings us back to Jesus’ final meal with his disciples before being taken prisoner and given over to the crucifixion. Jesus says that what is going to happen is his being glorified. He will be lifted up upon the cross, and he will be lifted up from the grave, and he will be lifted up to the Father and from God he will send the Holy Spirit. All of this reveals his glory, God’s presence in him – the light that can never be extinguished or overcome by darkness. His glory will be reflected into the world’s darkness when his disciples have the same attitude and serving love as their master. If they love one another, their love points towards the presence of Jesus among them, that the Kingdom of God is at hand. Their mutual love is a taste of the fulfilment to come – the life in the new Jerusalem. But Jesus also points to the fact that it is easier to speak about serving love and loving service that to really follow him. Therefor he in the verses following today’s Gospel reading predicts Peter’s denial of him, and we are reminded how easy it is to promise to live according of God’s will in serving love, and how easy it is to betray this love and deny our allegiance to Christ and the fellowship of his disciples.
But reading these disparate texts at the very same service nevertheless converges in the admonition not to lose hope – even though we find that our old person in us is very strong battling with our new person in Christ.
We should not despair, because Jesus har promised to baptize us with the Holy Spirit and to continually be filled, taught and led by the Spirit. Sending the Spirit to us, Jesus is still our Master and teacher. Through the Spirit we despite our short comings and despite our hopelessness when we fail still are Jesus’ disciples. Whatever we accuse ourselves of, and whatever other people raises of judgments towards us, it can never rob us of our dignity as disciples of Jesus. The Holy Spirit will continually remind us that with Christ we have found God as our Father, we are his beloved children and highly appreciated.
We will not despair, because our Master, friend, savior and brother Jesus Christ will make all things new – and bring everything to its fulfilment as he restores creation as a new heaven and a new earth, and we will be his bride in eternal union with him.
And as we see Jesus truly lifted up, he will renew a right Spirit within us – to love one another as he loves us.
Let us take a time in silent reflection in his presence and expecting the Holy Spirit to enlighten us and to bring us comfort, guidance and power.
Dear sisters and brothers in Christ Jesus,
We have joined the multitudes in Jerusalem greeting Jesus as he rides into the town. We have praised God joyfully, and we have greeted Jesus with words from one of the festival psalms of OT, “Hosianna (i.e. save us)… Blessed in the name of the Lord is the one who comes!” Or as St. Luke writes, “Blessed is the King who comes in the name of the Lord.”
When we sing “Hosianna” or “Hosanna”, we pray “Save us”, and yet at the same time it’s also like a spiritual Hurray – not unlike singing Halleluja.
Let me take you on a little journey. Imagine a Jewish child in Europe in the middle Ages – at a time when Jews were often attacked, harassed or massacred. We’ll call this child Jacob.
Jacob has been around in town. On his way home he is supposed to pass the synagogue. But he can’t pass. The road is blocked by an angry mob – lifting the fists towards the synagogue and shouting hateful words, “Christ killers!”, “Usurers”, “Baby-sacrificers”. Some have brought burning torches and now they throw them trough the windows into the synagogue-. Jacob stands terrified as thunderstruck and witnesses the pogrom develop. He hears the voice of the cantor through the hateful voices; the cantor sings with strong voice the litany for deliverance, and Jacob hear the men inside answering each petition, “Hosianna, hosianna, we beseech you, o Lord, have mercy!”
The synagogue now has caught fire – and Jacob wants to escape and starts running. Some of the mob see him and points their fingers at him, but he runs and runs and runs. There’s the Cathedral. Some people say that the Church is a safe place, a refuge for those fleeing revengers, so he runs through the big gates into the Church. The Mass is sung – and Jacob startles as he recognizes a word in the singing of the churh choir, “Hosanna in excelsis”.
Will he be safe at this place? Are the Christians really also praying “Save us”? And yet it all sounds different, not mourning like the litany of the synagogue, but rather almost triumphant and at the same time beautiful, harmonious – maybe as a sound of angels?
My story does not tell whether Jacob would find refuge in the Cathedral or not. But we might benefit from the two meanings or nuances of the word Hosianna / Hosanna – the despairing prayer “Save us” and the jubilant Christian Hosanna in excelsis.
“Save us – hosianna” has become jubilant and is already jubilant as Jesus makes his entry to Jerusalem, because we have a savior to whom we direct our prayers, and he has promised to be with us even until the ends of the world and unto the end of time.
But we should not forget the desperate prayer, as it only changes into a triumphant greeting because he, to whom we direct our prayer, has shared our human despair and our sufferings.
Jesus did not only experience the jubilant praise of the multitudes, but also the hateful cries of a hateful mob, “Crucify, crucify! Away with this man!”
Jesus is the Savior King, the Messiah, the Christ, because he has followed another path of life than we have mostly chosen. He follows the way described in the reading from Philippians. He abstained from power, from seeking his own honor. He emptied himself from his privileges as the Son of God to become the Son of Man.
As God’s Son he was the Word of God who out of love called creation into existence – and thus, he has laid the serving love as the foundation of an ordered cosmos. Serving love is the law of life that keeps the universe together as every created being serve the others and the whole. Humans were meant to lead creation in a life according to this law, but we were taken over by self-interest. In stead of serving we desired creation and other people for our own benefit, we made others into commodities and objects of our desire. Our interest in others was whether they would bring us pleasure, power, riches and success. But the world falls apart as we seek our own success. We become victims of desire – our own and that of others.
Though Son of God, Jesus took upon himself to bear the fruits of our revolt against the law of life – the fruits of the law of sin that leads to death. Jesus suffered and died not because he followed the wicked ways of humans, but because he in the world governed by the law of sin and death followed the law of life. Therefor his dying in serving love for us emptied death of its meaning, i.e. being the wages of sin. Through his death he reestablished the law of life – and rose from the dead to bestow on us the gift of grace that is eternal life in him, Christ Jesus, our Lord.
On behalf of a suffering world and because of our sins, we’ll still pray, hosianna, save us, and we will sing jubilant praise to him that comes to us, and by his grace and the power of the Holy Spirit we may follow St. Paul’s admonition, “Your attitude should be the same as that of Jesus Christ.”
Glory to the Father, Son and Holy Spirit as it was in the beginning, now is and ever shall be, world without end.
Bible readings: Genesis 15:1-12.17-18; Philippians 3:17-4:1; Luke 13:31-35
Dear sisters and brothers in Christ Jesus!
In the Lenten season we look upon ourselves and upon our lives in the light of God’s holiness as reveled in creation and in Jesus Christ, and we look upon ourselves in the light of God’s compassion and mercy.
When we look at God’s creation we are filled by awe, as David wonders (Psalm 8),
3 When I consider your heavens,
the work of your fingers,
the moon and the stars,
which you have set in place,
4 what is mankind that you are mindful of them,
human beings that you care for them?
Ash Wednesday we were reminded that we are dust from dust. We recognize that we are like clay in the potter’s hands. We know that we are corruptible and mortal as any other created entity. Yet we are also created in God’s image – created for knowing God and sharing God’s immortality. And we are reminded that we fell out of this grace bestowed on us, because our self-interest and appetite for consumption and success was more important to us than knowing God and having fellowship with him.
In this state of sin, our awe of God may turn into a fear of God’s wrath.
Looking to Jesus we are at new filled by awe in the presence of God. We are overwhelmed by his good works and his life-affirming words. As Jesus himself says, “I will keep on driving out demons and healing people today and tomorrow, and on the third day I will reach my goal”. We are still more overwhelmed by the content of Jesus’ reaching his goal – to die in serving love on the cross in the uttermost unity with us in our alienation from God – and to rise from the dead to share his immortal life with us once more as on the time of our creation in his image.
To day we understand that even though we experience our life alienated from God as being under the wrath of God the underlying motive in God’s heart is compassion and love – in Jesus’ words, “Jerusalem, Jerusalem, you who kill the prophets and stone those sent to you, how often I have longed to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, and you were not willing.”
Jesus affirms the words of God through the Prophet Ezekiel 18:23, “Do I take any pleasure in the death of the wicked? declares the Sovereign LORD. Rather, am I not pleased when they turn from their ways and live?”
Jesus grieves for Jerusalem, because they do not open themselves to God’s love but follow their own ways; he is filled with sorrow because their house will be left desolate. God is a sorrowful God because he desperately wants us to share his life, yet God won’t force us. An yet as we and all of humankind are experiencing the fruits of following our own ways, the ways of sin, we’ll all look to him we have pieced and brought to the cross, and there we’ll find God’s compassion and love and grace underlying Jesus’ crying out as under the wrath of God, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”
Overwhelmed by God’s radical love in Christ we’ll bless him as he comes to us: “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.” This by the way is why many churches at the Eucharist sing this verse from Psalm 118 after praising God as the thrice holy God.
Awed by God’s holiness and compassion, awed by God’s presence to us in Jesus Christ, we are called to a life shaped by the serving love of Christ. This involves repentance and asking for forgiveness for our old ways of life. This involves a life that in hope reaches out for the kingdom of God, present to us now and yet coming in fulness. That why Paul writes, “Our citizenship is in heaven. And we eagerly await a Savior from there, the Lord Jesus Christ, who, by the power that enables him to bring everything under his control, will transform our lowly bodies so that they will be like his glorious body.” If we in this Lenten period are seeing ourselves with the eyes of Christ, we may be overwhelmed by the fact that we in many ways have lived and live estranged from God, but our hope is also awakened because of God’s compassion to us in Jesus Christ. By the grace of the Holy Spirit we thus might begin to live Kingdom of God lives.
“Abram believed the LORD, and he credited it to him as righteousness.” As we believe God’s promises in Jesus Christ, this also is credited to us as righteousness. In stead of living according to our own standards we’ll live according to the standards of serving love – not in our own power, but in the knowledge and assurance of Jesus walking with us so that we live in right relations to God and one another.
We’ll enter a period of reflection in the presence of God’s compassion in Christ Jesus…
A few weeks ago, my wife and I went to see the movie Bohemian Rapsody, which tells the story of the rock band Queen, and in particular, the lead singer Freddy Mercury. Now, for anyone seeing that movie, myself included, who had been a teenager in the West in the 1980s would know how the story was going to end.
And I’m sure you’ve had a similar experience, whether a historical movie or a biography or where you are watching a movie after having read the book. So you know how the story is going to end. But even though I pretty much knew how the movie was going to end, I still enjoyed it very much. And I think why the movie was so engaging was because you focus on the way the characters grow and interact with each other, and in particular how they are changed by fame. How they are transformed by their success.
When we focus on the transformation of people, and relationships, we see life as a richer and deeper tapestry. We experience the human
If you look at the church year, our major celebrations are at Christmas and Easter. The bookmarks of the life of Christ, the beginning and the end of his earthly ministry. And of course these are important events, and they sit at the very heart of our faith, but I think if we focus too exclusively on the birth, death and resurrection of Christ we miss out on the fullness of the life of Christ. Of understanding, and experiencing, the transformation that Jesus brings to those around him, and even the transformation to Christ himself.
And of all the transformations we witness in the gospels, today’s is perhaps the most dramatic. For the mystery of God that we read of in Luke today is of Christ, both man and God transcend both space and time to walk with Moses and Elijah. It is a demonstration of God’s power and Christ’s divinity that is perhaps greater even than the resurrection.
And the witnesses to this, Peter, James and John seem a little confused. Which is understandable. But it is interesting to see how they respond. They offer to build tents for Jesus, Moses and Elijah. What the apostles are doing here is not offering to build a tent as a form of shelter, but rather, this is a reference to the tradition of Sukkot.
During the festival of Sukkot, Jews remember their deliverance from Egpyt and traditionally spend 7 or 8 days eating all meals and often sleeping in outdoor shelters. This tradition was well over 1,000 years old by the time of Jesus. In fact the tradition was established by Moses. So the disciples are falling back on the familiar rituals of their faith.
Now rituals, and cultural traditions can bring peace, and comfort and a sense of belonging, but they can also sometimes, especially if we participate without being mindful of what we are doing and why, prevent us from truly experiencing the fullness of life in Christ.
And here we read of Peter, James and John witnessing the full divinity of Christ in the transfiguration, of experiencing God in a new and dramatic
way, and their response is fall back on doing things the way they have always been done, of responding to God in the most familiar of ways.
Last Sunday Peter asked us to think about hospitality in a new and very challenging way. And during the week I was thinking about how Peter’s challenge to us to rethink hospitality related to the transformation of Christ in today’s reading that three of the disciples experienced.
And as I was thinking about this, my phone pinged. So nothing like a distraction when you are trying consider how we are challenged to change our own lives.
The ping turned out to be my CNN app telling me there was breaking news that I might be interested in. It was news from my home country, Australia, that Cardinal Pell, the leader of the Catholic Church had been found guilty of horrible crimes against young boys. The leader of the
church that more than half of Australian Christians belong to and the man who is for many people in Australia, the face of Christianity.
How do we respond to that? Do we just say, that’s why I’m a Protestant and try to ignore it? Do we turn inwards and fall back on what is familiar? Or do we reach out and weep with those who weep?
Because it is very easy to fall into despair, or inaction, because we can feel very small in the face of tremendous evil, or even when we are challenged to really rethink how we live our own lives.
But there is to me a way to live and react to these things. In the reading in Corinthians today we see that the transfiguration is not just an historical event in the life of Christ, not just a page filler to get us from Christmas to Easter. But rather, the transfiguration is God transforming all our lives. 2 Corinthians 18 says, “and we all, with unveiled face, beholding the glory of the Lord, are being changed into his likeness from one degree of glory to another”.
Now contemplate that in the context of the transfiguration.
When we really reflect on what hospitality would mean if we truly lived according to the call of Chirst it actually seems impossible. But what if we are really being transformed bit by bit into the very likeness of God? What then, is possible?
Because the challenge of hospitality that Peter gave last week is just one small element of the lives we are called to lead. And just that one small element when you really think about what it means is overwhelming. Let alone what it would take if we were to really love our neighbours as we love ourselves.
And what more when we must face up to powerful individuals and institutions that prey on the weak and that perpetrate life destroying acts of cruelty against the defenceless. Especially when it happens in churches. It is both painful and enfeebling to contemplate.
In the face of this, how can we be the salt and light of the world? But that to me is the message of the transfiguration and the letter to the Corinthians. That God’s power to transform is beyond all expectation.
And that we can be likewise transformed if only we allow ourselves to be.
We can only face these challenges; we can only live the life we are called to live; we can only confront evil, when we meet the divine Christ and respond. Respond, not by doing what we have always done, not by finding the familiar to hold on to.
But instead, when we meet the divine Christ we respond by allowing a miraculous transformation of our lives, our churches and our world.
For the past year I have been thinking a lot about hospitality, or hou haak in Cantonese. This is because it is an idea that I decided to make a big part of my dissertation. Or to be more exact, it is an idea that my PhD advisor told me I’d better make a big part of my dissertation. But I have to admit, it’s grown on me and it is a good way to talk about today’s Scripture. Now when I say hospitality, what may come to mind is something like inviting the neighbors over for dinner or opening up your home to a relative. In North Carolina, where I am from, we have a thing called southern hospitality. Basically this means being ridiculous friendly to everyone. You have to invite the neighbors up for coffee or a “mint julep”. If there is a new family in the neighborhood, you have to take them a casserole or a cake. And they absolutely must accept it! Or else it would be a scandal. Another good example of Southern hospitality is waving at every single car that goes by, regardless of whether or not you know the driver. This kind of hospitality is a competition over who can be the nicest. And it can be quite intense, even stressful, for someone who isn’t used to it.
Now, when you google hospitality, you get a bunch of information on the hospitality industry, which is hospitality for profit. It’s about vacation packages, hotels, and restaurants, and the amount of hospitality you receive depends on how much you are willing to pay (and I can never pay all that much). Ironically, when I think of hotels, I don’t think of hospitality. I think of Fawlty Towers, with Basil Fawlty (John Cleese) running around abusing waiters and insulting guests.
The hospitality I am talking about is radical and unconditional. It’s what Jesus Christ is speaking of in Luke Chapter 6. It is the unconditional love of your enemies. It is a sacrificial giving to everyone who comes begging. This hospitality expects nothing in return. You are to love people, but not because they love you in return. It is doing good for people, but not because others do good for you. It is to love simply for the sake of love, and it is to do good simply for the sake of doing good.
If this sounds difficult, it’s because it is. Actually, it is not just difficult. It is impossible, because hospitality is really a paradox. True hospitality is, as the philosopher Jacques Derrida said, to accept a total stranger without invitation. You accept them no matter who they are, and you never expect anything of them—even that they eventually leave. Absolute, or unconditional hospitality, makes us hostage to the stranger. We even have to resist the temptation to get to know them—to turn them from stranger into a friend—because that to would be to impose something on them, and that isn’t real hospitality.
That is the exact opposite of the southern hospitality that I knew. Look, if I were to bring you a casserole, then you absolutely have to be my friend…or else…well, I might have to spread a little negative gossip about you, wouldn’t. And this whole thing about welcoming the absolute stranger? Well, there are good strangers and there are bad strangers. Oh, you’re white and Protestant, well come on by! Oh, you want to build a mosque down the road? Not in my backyard!
Now, I know none of us would ever do that, but even our hospitality is limited. On the one hand we want to accept the absolute stranger into our homes, our communities, and—of course—our church. We don’t want to refuse anybody, no matter who they are. On the other hand, we can’t provide hospitality without rules or limits. In order to be a host, you have to have a home or other space to be the host of. That implies that you have ownership or sovereignty over this space, and with this sovereignty comes power and the need to set rules.
These are rules like taking off your shoes when you enter a person’s home. That was something I had to get used to in Hong Kong and China. Naturally, if relatives were coming to stay for the holidays, we’d naturally offer own home, but expect them to get out eventually. If we let a homeless person used our bathroom or shower, we wouldn’t expect payment, but we probably would expect that they try to clean up after themselves.
And as host, you are responsible for everyone’s safety, and so you must set rules about that. If you ride in my car, you have to wear a seatbelt. A homeless shelter might have a curfew, or keep men and women on separate floors. If someone were to bring a sword into this church, I am not sure what we would do. We might let that slide once, maybe twice, but eventually we’d have to say to that person: “While we respect your right to be eccentric, the sword makes us a little uncomfortable. It’s a silly example, but some churches actually have to put up signs, saying: “Please do not bring your guns in here.”
And finally, hospitality is a finite resource. A host has to choose who to accept and who to send away, as sometimes there is just “no room at the inn.” If suddenly hundreds of people wanted to come to Christ Temple, it would be a blessing. But we would probably have to set up an overflow room with a TV screen in Pilgrim’s Hall. Is that so bad? Not really, but if I walked half a mile up a mountain I would much rather worship in here, not over there.
You can go back all the way to the Old Testament period, to the time of Abraham and Isaac, Jacob and Joseph, and you will find these kinds of rules and limitations. People in the ancient Near East were nomadic, they traveled all the time from wells to oases. By today’s standards, they were very hospitable, but they had unspoken laws that governed this hospitality. Hosts had to offer certain things, like meals, to their guests, and guests could only stay a certain number of nights, after which they would be in violation of the norms. And people were hospitable because they gained something from it. You opened your tent to the strangers because you never knew when you and your family would need somewhere to sleep. You made friends, because you needed friends in what was a very hostile environment.
But God’s covenant with Israel challenges this understanding of hospitality, as does God’s covenant with the rest of the world through Jesus Christ. God’s hospitality for us is unconditional and superabundant. His hospitality can never run out. It is available to each and every human being that will receive. God keeps giving it even when we turn away from Him and from each other. When Joseph’s brother’s betrayed him, God brought them back together in Egypt. It was awkward—Joseph knew who they were and they did not recognize him. But he was moved by love to reveal himself and to invite them into his home. And when the Egyptian hospitality turned to hostility, God delivered Jacob and Joseph’s descendants from slavery.
God does not expect hospitality in return, but He does expect that His hospitality continues to flow outward from us. We see this in the ministry of Christ, who is both guest and host. He accepts the hospitality of strangers, entering homes, going to weddings, and preaching in different synagogues. But whenever He receives hospitality, He returns it many times over, blessing strangers, offering His wisdom, and healing the sick. Christ brings with Him the hospitality of God.
But again, God’s hospitality is unconditional and limitless, while we human beings can only imperfectly imitate it. Is it because we are fallen, afflicted by sin, or is it by design? It is possible that the reason it is so difficult to offer ourselves and our home to the stranger, even though we feel compelled to, is because it is through such an encounter that we are able to come to know ourselves as strangers, and thus our duty as Christians? Derrida thought that hospitality, true hospitality, was something that challenged our sense of self. When I invite family or friends into my home—or as I will do when I am not living in a dorm—if I were to invite such people over it would be easy. I know them well so I am comfortable with them. This is because, psychologically, I have made them part of myself. But in an encounter with a stranger, we are forced to think outside of ourselves. We can’t turn them away, but we can’t take possession of them.
This causes us to reconsider our self-centered thinking. Suddenly we are able to somewhat imagine what it is like to be sojourners. We can feel like the Hebrews felt wandering the deserts. We can feel as the disciples felt following Christ through Galilee. We can feel as Derrida felt, an Algerian Jew living in France. We can also start to understand how migrants and refugees feel in a place like Hong Kong.
We could never fully meet the challenges that Jesus sets before us in today’s Scripture. We can turn our cheeks only so many times. But today’s readings are a call to be as hospitable as we possibly can be. Our compassion and empathy have limits, but if recognize those limits we can push against them. Hospitality can also change how we understand what it means to be good Christians. There are many ways we try to spread the Gospel. We have different ministries and outreach. We do evangelism and mission. We have potlucks. But these things are not to grow the church. The reason we are witnesses to Christ is not to make new Christians. Rather it is simply to share the hospitality that God has given us, to open are hearts to others without expecting anything in return. Amen.