I think this psalm could be used (misused, actually, in my opinion) to slam atheists and make the case that those who have arrived intellectually at the conclusion that there is no God are incapable of good deeds. However, it seems to me that such an approach is not only untrue but much too simplistic. What the psalmist probably has in mind here is something else entirely.
A couple of Scriptural connections can be made. The RCL pairs Psalm 14 this week with the story of David and Bathsheba. That is instructive, because King David was by no modern definition an atheist. Yet his behavior here is certainly foolish--tragically so--and perhaps demonstrates the true intent of the psalmist.
Another connection is with Jesus' parable of the rich fool (Luke 12:16-21). This fellow, having been blessed with abundant harvests, decides to build gigantic barns to store his crops, and to devote himself to his own pleasure. "I... I... my..." reads the man's soliloquy. And God calls him, "You fool!"
The problem the psalmist sees is not intellectual--someone ruling out God's existence through reason and logic--it's behavioral and theological. Wicked actions, including mistreatment of the poor, indicate, in the psalmist's view, what a person believes about God: not so much whether or not God exists, but whether or not God matters. This practical atheism is a problem not just outside communities of faith, but within them.
The challenging question for us is, "How do our actions demonstrate our theology?"
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Minor Characters
2 Samuel 6:1-5, 12b-19
The long arc of David’s story — from shepherd to giant-conqueror to warrior to fugitive to king — is told through 1 and 2 Samuel, and again in 1 and 2 Chronicles. This week’s Old Testament text portrays a triumphant moment for David. He’s leading a group of men, and they’re bringing the Ark of the Covenant to the city of David, playing musical instruments, shouting, and dancing with all their might.
And mentioned in the middle of the passage is Michal, daughter of Saul, who looked out the window and saw David “leaping and dancing before the Lord; and she despised him in her heart.” (v. 16 )
Who is Michal, other than Saul’s daughter? Why does she despise the sight of David dancing? It’s tempting to skip over this single verse, because it doesn’t seem to fit.
Michal was Saul’s youngest daughter, and years ago, she fell in love with David. Her father found out, and used her as a pawn to lure David into a dangerous wager that Saul hoped would result in David’s death. David delivered on his end of the bargain, so Michal became his wife.
Not long after that, Michal defied her father and helped David escape, saving his life. And then he went on the run.
With David gone, Michal’s father gave her to another man in marriage. This man loved her — when David returned years later, triumphant, and sent men to bring Michal to him, her second husband followed, begging not to lose her. He was told to go back home. Scripture doesn’t tell us how Michal felt about this turn of events, but perhaps this week's text gives us a clue.
Michal is a minor character compared to others in the story — David, Saul, her brother Jonathan. But she still has a story. If given the chance, how would she tell it?
In our own lives, we often look at others as minor characters. Even if we understand our lives as part of God’s story, we still run the risk of putting ourselves, our family, our church, our friends, our workplace, our nation, and our culture, at the center. We almost can’t help it. It’s the “view from the ground.” It’s how we make sense of the world.
The danger is that in relegating others to a minor role, we may forget that with God, there are no minor characters. When we forget that, we lose our capacity for compassion outside of our small circle. We also lose our ability to be blessed by learning what God is doing in others' lives.
God, in the person of Jesus Christ, demonstrated quite often that in God’s story, there are no minor characters. He specialized in turning upside-down every conventional notion of "major" and "minor." He conversed with an outcast Samaritan woman at a well. He noticed a blind man calling out for mercy, and healed him. He called out Zaccheus, up in the tree, and invited himself to dinner. He saw a widow putting small change in the offering, and lifted her up to the disciples as an example of great generosity.
Who are the "minor characters" in our world today? Who are the "minor characters" in our own lives? How can seeing them differently help us to be more compassionate? How can seeing them differently allow us to receive the blessings they bring?
The long arc of David’s story — from shepherd to giant-conqueror to warrior to fugitive to king — is told through 1 and 2 Samuel, and again in 1 and 2 Chronicles. This week’s Old Testament text portrays a triumphant moment for David. He’s leading a group of men, and they’re bringing the Ark of the Covenant to the city of David, playing musical instruments, shouting, and dancing with all their might.
And mentioned in the middle of the passage is Michal, daughter of Saul, who looked out the window and saw David “leaping and dancing before the Lord; and she despised him in her heart.” (v. 16 )
Who is Michal, other than Saul’s daughter? Why does she despise the sight of David dancing? It’s tempting to skip over this single verse, because it doesn’t seem to fit.
Michal was Saul’s youngest daughter, and years ago, she fell in love with David. Her father found out, and used her as a pawn to lure David into a dangerous wager that Saul hoped would result in David’s death. David delivered on his end of the bargain, so Michal became his wife.
Not long after that, Michal defied her father and helped David escape, saving his life. And then he went on the run.
With David gone, Michal’s father gave her to another man in marriage. This man loved her — when David returned years later, triumphant, and sent men to bring Michal to him, her second husband followed, begging not to lose her. He was told to go back home. Scripture doesn’t tell us how Michal felt about this turn of events, but perhaps this week's text gives us a clue.
Michal is a minor character compared to others in the story — David, Saul, her brother Jonathan. But she still has a story. If given the chance, how would she tell it?
In our own lives, we often look at others as minor characters. Even if we understand our lives as part of God’s story, we still run the risk of putting ourselves, our family, our church, our friends, our workplace, our nation, and our culture, at the center. We almost can’t help it. It’s the “view from the ground.” It’s how we make sense of the world.
The danger is that in relegating others to a minor role, we may forget that with God, there are no minor characters. When we forget that, we lose our capacity for compassion outside of our small circle. We also lose our ability to be blessed by learning what God is doing in others' lives.
God, in the person of Jesus Christ, demonstrated quite often that in God’s story, there are no minor characters. He specialized in turning upside-down every conventional notion of "major" and "minor." He conversed with an outcast Samaritan woman at a well. He noticed a blind man calling out for mercy, and healed him. He called out Zaccheus, up in the tree, and invited himself to dinner. He saw a widow putting small change in the offering, and lifted her up to the disciples as an example of great generosity.
Who are the "minor characters" in our world today? Who are the "minor characters" in our own lives? How can seeing them differently help us to be more compassionate? How can seeing them differently allow us to receive the blessings they bring?
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Home Field Advantage?
The lectionary text I have decided to wrestle with is Mark 6: 1-13.
Sometimes I wonder with the length of the reading. This one seems to include two stories that seem to not have much connection. The first one is about Jesus visiting his home town and the other has him sending out his disciples.
I guess you could split them apart and preach on one or the other but I want to see what happens when the two are kept together.
The return visit for Jesus is after he has had some time away and has been successful in attracting some followers and getting a crowd to form wherever he goes. Certainly the trip across the lade had some down side as the gentiles there were not interested in him staying in spite of the fact he helped the demonic. But he did do some power healing to Jairus's daughter and the suffering woman. So things are going well for Jesus. You'd think that he would be welcomed home with loving arms. Given ticker tape parade and everyone would say, " I remember him when he was this tall and now look at him." And another would say "Hey, Jesus, remember when we all snuck out that night and turned over old lady Roenkranz's outhouse?"
But no real welcome. There is a general put down of him and an attempt to 'put him in his place'. Why? In sports there is supposed to be a home field advantage. The team that plays on its home field is supposed to have the support of the home crowd, be more comfortable eating in your own bed and eating mom's cooking. But not here.
Jesus is rejected because he comes not to bask in the glory of old friends and neighbors reminiscing with him. He comes to preach his message and to show God's power and love. That is not what the home town people wanted to hear from him. They didn't want to be challenged they wanted to be seen as the reason for his success. He didn't act like they wanted so they rejected him.
Rejection is also the key concern that Jesus has he sends out the disciples. He wants them to travel light and not be burdened with too much expectation. When rejection happens don't let it stick to you, shake it off and move on.
I wonder if Jesus didn't give that advice to himself after Nazareth. Not everyone is going to get it. Don't let it stop you and keep you from God's purpose.
I think there is more here to ponder. Fortunately Sunday is still several days off. I invite your comments and reaction.
Tom Felts
Sometimes I wonder with the length of the reading. This one seems to include two stories that seem to not have much connection. The first one is about Jesus visiting his home town and the other has him sending out his disciples.
I guess you could split them apart and preach on one or the other but I want to see what happens when the two are kept together.
The return visit for Jesus is after he has had some time away and has been successful in attracting some followers and getting a crowd to form wherever he goes. Certainly the trip across the lade had some down side as the gentiles there were not interested in him staying in spite of the fact he helped the demonic. But he did do some power healing to Jairus's daughter and the suffering woman. So things are going well for Jesus. You'd think that he would be welcomed home with loving arms. Given ticker tape parade and everyone would say, " I remember him when he was this tall and now look at him." And another would say "Hey, Jesus, remember when we all snuck out that night and turned over old lady Roenkranz's outhouse?"
But no real welcome. There is a general put down of him and an attempt to 'put him in his place'. Why? In sports there is supposed to be a home field advantage. The team that plays on its home field is supposed to have the support of the home crowd, be more comfortable eating in your own bed and eating mom's cooking. But not here.
Jesus is rejected because he comes not to bask in the glory of old friends and neighbors reminiscing with him. He comes to preach his message and to show God's power and love. That is not what the home town people wanted to hear from him. They didn't want to be challenged they wanted to be seen as the reason for his success. He didn't act like they wanted so they rejected him.
Rejection is also the key concern that Jesus has he sends out the disciples. He wants them to travel light and not be burdened with too much expectation. When rejection happens don't let it stick to you, shake it off and move on.
I wonder if Jesus didn't give that advice to himself after Nazareth. Not everyone is going to get it. Don't let it stop you and keep you from God's purpose.
I think there is more here to ponder. Fortunately Sunday is still several days off. I invite your comments and reaction.
Tom Felts
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Welcome Back--New Contributors/Schedule
Greetings, everyone!
I know it's been a while since we've posted here on a regular basis. But we've added some new contributors and revamped the schedule. Here's the new schedule:
Updated Lectionary Blog Schedule
Try your best to post by the Tuesday prior to your assigned Sunday text.
June 28 Anyone who feels like it
July 5 Tom Felts
July 12 Rebecca Bowman Woods
July 19 Dave Clark
July 26 Sharla Hulsey
August 2 Danny Bradfield
August 9 Bill Spangler-Dunning
August 16 Bert Berns
August 23 Andy Beck
August 30 Suzie Moore
September 6 Richard Guentert
September 13 Dennis Sanders
September 20 Dan Mayes
September 27 Brian Kirk
October 4 Bill McConnell
October 11 John Claussen
I know it's been a while since we've posted here on a regular basis. But we've added some new contributors and revamped the schedule. Here's the new schedule:
Updated Lectionary Blog Schedule
Try your best to post by the Tuesday prior to your assigned Sunday text.
June 28 Anyone who feels like it
July 5 Tom Felts
July 12 Rebecca Bowman Woods
July 19 Dave Clark
July 26 Sharla Hulsey
August 2 Danny Bradfield
August 9 Bill Spangler-Dunning
August 16 Bert Berns
August 23 Andy Beck
August 30 Suzie Moore
September 6 Richard Guentert
September 13 Dennis Sanders
September 20 Dan Mayes
September 27 Brian Kirk
October 4 Bill McConnell
October 11 John Claussen
Sunday, May 24, 2009
PRESENCE THROUGH ABSENCE
By Dr. Richard Guentert
This is the Sunday of the Church Year we celebrate Pentecost. The Gospel selection is John 15:26-27, and 16:4b to 15. For the purposes of this blog I want to focus on 16:7, 12-13.
I tell you the truth: it is to your advantage that I go away, for if I do not go away, the Advocate will not come to you; but if I go, I will send him to you. . . . “I still have many things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now. When the Spirit of truth comes, he will guide you into all the truth; . . . and he will declare to you the things that are to come.
In short, I think this Scripture text points out how Jesus understood the necessity of Aabsenting@ himself from them; but not before he promised them the coming of the Advocate – the Holy Spirit ... the very Apresence@ that would sustain them into an unknown future . . . the very Apresence@ that would help them discern and discover additional truths for their mission that neither he nor God had yet completely revealed to them.
As most of us think back over our faith journey, we can identify family, friends, church folk and pastors who, early-on, taught and mentored us about life. But then they went their way and we went ours. Life’s pathway took them down different avenues and turns in the road – so they no longer walked beside us as we journeyed on! But along the way, we still valued some of those significant life lessons – those “truths” they gave us, and we built upon them; we added to them; we expanded upon them; we used them as foundational footings – but not as hindrances that would restrict us from the exploration and discovery of new truths God had in store for us. As a result we lived our way into some future directions and pathways they could never have imagined.
In other words, we experienced their presence, even in their absence. And while we relished the truths that improved us, we did not allow them to totally impede us!. (And that is what this text is about today). Indeed, the absence of the Teacher was necessary, before those first disciples could begin to put the pieces together most meaningfully for themselves. Jesus had to create in them a sense of His AAbsence,@ before it would fully occur to them, just how fully “present” he continued to be in their lives . . . a presence that was always reassuring, though never suffocatingly stifling.
When I went away to College, I really thought I was getting out from under the watchful eye and the controlling presence of my parents. What I was surprised to discover was how really present they were in my dorm room and classroom with me each day. Their counsel continued to be ever present when I encountered a situation that demanded it. The values they fashioned in me kept cropping up whenever I would try to transgress them. The attitudes they had formed in me would surreptitiously sneak to the fore, just when I least expected them to do so. And the conscience they had created within me was a real Apain in the butt@ ... but in the long-run it safeguarded me from a lot of heartaches. (So, you see, I experienced their presence, even in their absence.)
Years ago I remember hearing Keith Miller talk about all those deceased folk in his life to whom he turned for insight and discernment whenever he faced life=s greatest difficulties. He said he would go to church and sit on the main floor of the sanctuary. But he could re-collect in his mind the image of all his forbearers up in the balcony behind him ... giving him the very advice and encouragement and support he needed all along the way.
And I guess that is just another way of understanding what the writer of Hebrews was calling AThe great cloud of witnesses@ who have gone before. Their Spirit is so absorbed and so incorporated into us that they continue to fuel our identity and our ideals; they continue to impact our personality and our practice; they continue to determine our propensities and our peculiarities. And that=s just the way Jesus said it would be with the work of the Advocate – the Holy Spirit. Instead of pointing them to the old hopes, he patiently directed them to the hope that was on the horizon .... the coming of his own Spirit-like presence that would abide with them forever – the one John called “The Advocate.”
Because there is APresence in the midst of Absence@ Jesus was not misleading us as he said, AWhen the Spirit of truth comes, he will guide you into all the truth!@ With Pentecost, God has provided a means for his continuing revelation – through the work of the Advocate – the Holy Spirit. The activity of the Spirit (the Advocate’s coming) on Pentecost was only the beginning. Throughout the centuries the Christian community has again and again re-experienced the truth of Jesus’ promise: “I still have many things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now. [But] when the Spirit of Truth comes, he will guide you into all the truth. . . . He will declare to you the things that are to come.”
So it seems to me that perhaps Jesus’ truth wasn’t yet ALL the truth – since we couldn’t handle it then, he says. And neither are our truths ALL the truth there is. So, as my friend Dr. Jan Linn (pastor at Spirit of Joy Christian Church in Apple Valley, Minnesota) says, “We should speak all the truth we know, without claiming it is all the truth there is.”
The Spirit journeys alongside us and within us – forming and reforming us, shaping and re-shaping us, creating and re-creating us. And God’s revelation continues well into the 21st century.
This is the Sunday of the Church Year we celebrate Pentecost. The Gospel selection is John 15:26-27, and 16:4b to 15. For the purposes of this blog I want to focus on 16:7, 12-13.
I tell you the truth: it is to your advantage that I go away, for if I do not go away, the Advocate will not come to you; but if I go, I will send him to you. . . . “I still have many things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now. When the Spirit of truth comes, he will guide you into all the truth; . . . and he will declare to you the things that are to come.
In short, I think this Scripture text points out how Jesus understood the necessity of Aabsenting@ himself from them; but not before he promised them the coming of the Advocate – the Holy Spirit ... the very Apresence@ that would sustain them into an unknown future . . . the very Apresence@ that would help them discern and discover additional truths for their mission that neither he nor God had yet completely revealed to them.
As most of us think back over our faith journey, we can identify family, friends, church folk and pastors who, early-on, taught and mentored us about life. But then they went their way and we went ours. Life’s pathway took them down different avenues and turns in the road – so they no longer walked beside us as we journeyed on! But along the way, we still valued some of those significant life lessons – those “truths” they gave us, and we built upon them; we added to them; we expanded upon them; we used them as foundational footings – but not as hindrances that would restrict us from the exploration and discovery of new truths God had in store for us. As a result we lived our way into some future directions and pathways they could never have imagined.
In other words, we experienced their presence, even in their absence. And while we relished the truths that improved us, we did not allow them to totally impede us!. (And that is what this text is about today). Indeed, the absence of the Teacher was necessary, before those first disciples could begin to put the pieces together most meaningfully for themselves. Jesus had to create in them a sense of His AAbsence,@ before it would fully occur to them, just how fully “present” he continued to be in their lives . . . a presence that was always reassuring, though never suffocatingly stifling.
When I went away to College, I really thought I was getting out from under the watchful eye and the controlling presence of my parents. What I was surprised to discover was how really present they were in my dorm room and classroom with me each day. Their counsel continued to be ever present when I encountered a situation that demanded it. The values they fashioned in me kept cropping up whenever I would try to transgress them. The attitudes they had formed in me would surreptitiously sneak to the fore, just when I least expected them to do so. And the conscience they had created within me was a real Apain in the butt@ ... but in the long-run it safeguarded me from a lot of heartaches. (So, you see, I experienced their presence, even in their absence.)
Years ago I remember hearing Keith Miller talk about all those deceased folk in his life to whom he turned for insight and discernment whenever he faced life=s greatest difficulties. He said he would go to church and sit on the main floor of the sanctuary. But he could re-collect in his mind the image of all his forbearers up in the balcony behind him ... giving him the very advice and encouragement and support he needed all along the way.
And I guess that is just another way of understanding what the writer of Hebrews was calling AThe great cloud of witnesses@ who have gone before. Their Spirit is so absorbed and so incorporated into us that they continue to fuel our identity and our ideals; they continue to impact our personality and our practice; they continue to determine our propensities and our peculiarities. And that=s just the way Jesus said it would be with the work of the Advocate – the Holy Spirit. Instead of pointing them to the old hopes, he patiently directed them to the hope that was on the horizon .... the coming of his own Spirit-like presence that would abide with them forever – the one John called “The Advocate.”
Because there is APresence in the midst of Absence@ Jesus was not misleading us as he said, AWhen the Spirit of truth comes, he will guide you into all the truth!@ With Pentecost, God has provided a means for his continuing revelation – through the work of the Advocate – the Holy Spirit. The activity of the Spirit (the Advocate’s coming) on Pentecost was only the beginning. Throughout the centuries the Christian community has again and again re-experienced the truth of Jesus’ promise: “I still have many things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now. [But] when the Spirit of Truth comes, he will guide you into all the truth. . . . He will declare to you the things that are to come.”
So it seems to me that perhaps Jesus’ truth wasn’t yet ALL the truth – since we couldn’t handle it then, he says. And neither are our truths ALL the truth there is. So, as my friend Dr. Jan Linn (pastor at Spirit of Joy Christian Church in Apple Valley, Minnesota) says, “We should speak all the truth we know, without claiming it is all the truth there is.”
The Spirit journeys alongside us and within us – forming and reforming us, shaping and re-shaping us, creating and re-creating us. And God’s revelation continues well into the 21st century.
Monday, April 13, 2009
Some Thoughts on John for the Second Sunday of Easter
This is new to me. I have been reading your blog now for awhile and enjoying it. I decided to volunteer to post some of my thoughts as a way to take my turn.
Here is what I'm going to do. I will share with you some of my thinking at this stage of the game. It is Monday and early in the process of building a sermon and for me that begins with looking at the scripture and letting it speak to me. So I will "think out loud" with you listening in.
The passage I will be looking at is John 20:19-31 and ,wow, I see a lot of things that peek my interest and stir my thinking. Here are some of the those things:
It is the fist day of the week, Easter evening and the disciples are hidden because of fear.Fear of the Jews we are told. but not all Jews, they were Jews. No, they were filled with fear because the authorities might do to them what they did to Jesus. So they are locked away behind closed doors. The Serendipity Bible asks the question, "Have you ever gone to your room and locked the door? Why?"
There seems to be a lot of matched statements and events. The disciples are afraid and Jesus comes to them and gives them peace. Jesus is sending the disciples as he was sent by God. They are warned that they have the power of offering forgiveness or withholding forgiveness. They see and believe and blessed are they who believe and have not seen. This might be an interesting track to pursue.
Another issue that jumps out to me and was mentioned by the New Interpreter's Bible is that while Thomas doubted the report of the disciples of Jesus resurrection, the disciples doubted the report of the women.Lots of doubters. Besides Thomas was only asking for the same evidence that others received. Jesus appears to him when he was with the other disciples a week later. Is this a lesion on missing out when you break fellowship? Jesus appears to him only when he is with the others not alone. Yet there is not criticism of Thomas by Jesus. Just the presentation of the proof asked for. Notice too, that Jesus shows both the disciples and Thomas the scars. The crucified Jesus is also the resurrected Jesus. The commentaries mention that Luke 24:41 tells the reason was to prove that Jesus was not a ghost. It is interesting to note that the disciples rejoice after seeing the scars not when they first see Jesus.
I want to go back to the greeting of "Peace be with you". That seems like a common greeting but it is repeated later. Is it like the toss off phrase we use, "How are you?". It can be asked in a way that dose not expect an answer or when you really want to know, "How are you?" Jesus is not just saying "Hi" He really wants to respond to our fear with the gift of peace.
The concept that keeps drawing me back is the promise that those that have not seen and yet believe will be blessed. That even ties to the way this passage ends. These stories we are told are not everything that happened but these are written that you may believe and by believing you may have life.
Is this the way to faith without seeing? Believing the stories of those who have seen?
These are some of my first thoughts. Sorry they are not more pulled together. Hopefully, and with the Lord's spirit, they will be pulled into a message by Sunday.
Tom Felts
Here is what I'm going to do. I will share with you some of my thinking at this stage of the game. It is Monday and early in the process of building a sermon and for me that begins with looking at the scripture and letting it speak to me. So I will "think out loud" with you listening in.
The passage I will be looking at is John 20:19-31 and ,wow, I see a lot of things that peek my interest and stir my thinking. Here are some of the those things:
It is the fist day of the week, Easter evening and the disciples are hidden because of fear.Fear of the Jews we are told. but not all Jews, they were Jews. No, they were filled with fear because the authorities might do to them what they did to Jesus. So they are locked away behind closed doors. The Serendipity Bible asks the question, "Have you ever gone to your room and locked the door? Why?"
There seems to be a lot of matched statements and events. The disciples are afraid and Jesus comes to them and gives them peace. Jesus is sending the disciples as he was sent by God. They are warned that they have the power of offering forgiveness or withholding forgiveness. They see and believe and blessed are they who believe and have not seen. This might be an interesting track to pursue.
Another issue that jumps out to me and was mentioned by the New Interpreter's Bible is that while Thomas doubted the report of the disciples of Jesus resurrection, the disciples doubted the report of the women.Lots of doubters. Besides Thomas was only asking for the same evidence that others received. Jesus appears to him when he was with the other disciples a week later. Is this a lesion on missing out when you break fellowship? Jesus appears to him only when he is with the others not alone. Yet there is not criticism of Thomas by Jesus. Just the presentation of the proof asked for. Notice too, that Jesus shows both the disciples and Thomas the scars. The crucified Jesus is also the resurrected Jesus. The commentaries mention that Luke 24:41 tells the reason was to prove that Jesus was not a ghost. It is interesting to note that the disciples rejoice after seeing the scars not when they first see Jesus.
I want to go back to the greeting of "Peace be with you". That seems like a common greeting but it is repeated later. Is it like the toss off phrase we use, "How are you?". It can be asked in a way that dose not expect an answer or when you really want to know, "How are you?" Jesus is not just saying "Hi" He really wants to respond to our fear with the gift of peace.
The concept that keeps drawing me back is the promise that those that have not seen and yet believe will be blessed. That even ties to the way this passage ends. These stories we are told are not everything that happened but these are written that you may believe and by believing you may have life.
Is this the way to faith without seeing? Believing the stories of those who have seen?
These are some of my first thoughts. Sorry they are not more pulled together. Hopefully, and with the Lord's spirit, they will be pulled into a message by Sunday.
Tom Felts
Sunday, April 5, 2009
What just happened?
Mark 16:1-8
If I were going to write the story of the resurrection, I just don’t think this is how I’d do it. I mean, the story—and most scholars think this is the earliest Easter story we have—ends with a bunch of women, having been told to go tell the disciples that Jesus has been raised, running off terrified and not saying anything to anyone. No one goes and tells anyone anything, and there’s no appearance of the risen Jesus in the story. (It’s almost like someone tore the last page out of the book of Mark—as a matter of fact, in the Greek the text ends in mid-sentence. Did Mark mean it that way, or have we lost the real ending?)
No, I think if I were going to write the story I’d do it more like what’s in the Gospel of Peter, which is one of the many Gospels that were floating around the early church, all but four of which didn’t make the cut when they finally put the Bible together as we have it today:
“…in the night in which the Lord’s day dawned, when the soldiers were safeguarding it two by two in every watch, there was a loud voice in heaven; and they saw that two males who had much radiance had come down from there and come near the sepulcher. But that stone which had been thrust against the door, having rolled by itself, went a distance off the side; and the sepulcher opened, and both the young men entered. And so those soldiers, having seen, awakened the centurion and the elders (for they too were present, safeguarding). And while they were relating what they had seen, again they see three males who have come out from the sepulcher, with the two supporting the other one, and a cross following them, and the head of the two reaching unto heaven, but that of the one being led out by a hand by them going beyond the heavens” (Gospel of Peter, translated by Raymond Brown).
Yeah, I think that’s how I’d write it, only I think maybe I’d want that giant Jesus to go up to the Romans and the Jewish elders who were there and say, “Hah!”
But this Gospel didn’t make it in. Instead we have Mark’s version, which goes by so suddenly we don’t even have time to ask, “What just happened?” I wasn’t there, and so I don’t know the discussions that might have gone on, but somehow the people who finalized the canon determined that Mark’s Gospel is in and the Gospel of Peter is out. And the whole issue of how they decided what books got in is very interesting, but not really germane on Easter morning, except to say that the fact that Mark’s Resurrection story is in the Bible and the one from the Gospel of Peter isn’t says something important to us.
Now, of course, as we have it today there’s quite a little bit of stuff at the end of Mark after verse 8, where our reading for today ends. There are resurrection appearances in Mark, and a sending out of the disciples. And there’s that troublesome verse that says certain signs will follow those who believe, including the ability to pick up snakes without being harmed. But this longer ending seems to most scholars to have been pieced together from stories in the other three Gospels, and the style of writing isn’t a thing like the rest of the book of Mark. It may have been added much later by Christians who knew the other Gospel stories, and knew that there were eyewitnesses who said they’d seen Jesus after the resurrection (see Paul’s discussion in 1 Corinthians 15, for instance). I think this ending was added by folks who may not have trusted that those who read the Gospel of Mark would get the point he was trying to make by having the story end in mid-sentence, and before anyone had actually seen the risen Christ.
Remember that each one of the Gospels is written for a different place and time and purpose; each of the four Evangelists had a slightly different point to make. Mark’s Gospel, many think, is a training manual of a sort. It conveys the basic outlines of the Gospel story, with a tremendous sense of urgency. Everything in Mark happens “suddenly” or “immediately.” When the story begins, Mark doesn’t devote any time or ink to telling stories of Jesus’ birth—there are no angels, no shepherds, no wise men, no Mary and Joseph, no manger, no star.
First John the Baptist appears in the wilderness (that’s the exact word Mark uses: appeared), and then Jesus comes and gets baptized, and by the fourteenth verse of the first chapter of the Gospel, Jesus is preaching. He calls his first disciples in verses 16-20, and then they’re off and running.
The point of this Gospel might be to get new believers to understand the basic story in a hurry, so they could et to work and be able to make disciples and teach and heal in whatever short time they had before the end-times, or they got arrested, whichever came first. Mark’s resurrection story is equally brief: Jesus died, he was buried, and then on Sunday morning some women came and found the tomb empty.
But the women told no one, and at least in the earliest form of the story, Jesus never appears. So how does it happen that we’re here today, if the story ends with three scared women saying nothing?
Well, it seems that Jesus did appear, because the rest of the Gospels talk about appearances and people who see Jesus—and Paul, as I mentioned, talks about eyewitnesses, and he wrote 1 Corinthians before any of the Gospels, even Mark, were written. But I think even if there hadn’t been resurrection appearances—and I am certain that there were—the story would have spread.
Easter just isn’t something you can keep to yourself—at least, it shouldn’t be. Look: if Christ is really raised from the dead, and churches would be empty on Easter Sunday if those who are there didn’t believe that on some level, then the back of death and sin and evil is broken. And if that’s the case, then what on earth do we have to be afraid of?
Do we have to fear being kept alive by machines or tubes—or do we have to fear those machines and tubes being turned off or disconnected? Do we have to fear the loss of our jobs, our prestige in the community, or even our money? Do we have to fear that if we don’t do something ourselves, our churches or our regions will not be here in 50 years?
No!
If Christ is really raised from the dead, then death is swallowed up in victory, in whatever form that death might take—death of our churches, death of our social status, death of our bodies or our ability to control what happens to our bodies. So let us live as people who have nothing to fear!
This brings us back to the reason Mark’s Gospel, with its abrupt mid-sentence ending, makes it into the Bible where the Gospel of Peter with its mile-high Jesus and walking, talking cross doesn’t: By leaving the story unfinished, Mark is telling us something very important.
Mark begins his Gospel with an introduction: “The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.” I suppose he could be saying, “I’m going to start telling you about Jesus now,” but I don’t think that’s what he’s doing. I think he’s introducing the whole book as “the beginning of the good news.” And by ending so abruptly, he’s saying to all who read his Gospel: “Now it’s up to you to be the rest of the story.”
The story began with the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus. You’ve been introduced, and you know Jesus came out of the tomb, even though the women initially were afraid to say so. Now keep your eyes open, because the risen Christ will appear to you; you will know his presence in your church and in your life. And when you do, then you get to add your witness to the story that continues from where I left off.
The Lord is risen! He is risen indeed! He is alive among us here, and as we go out into the world, as people of the Resurrection, we are part of the rest of the story.
If I were going to write the story of the resurrection, I just don’t think this is how I’d do it. I mean, the story—and most scholars think this is the earliest Easter story we have—ends with a bunch of women, having been told to go tell the disciples that Jesus has been raised, running off terrified and not saying anything to anyone. No one goes and tells anyone anything, and there’s no appearance of the risen Jesus in the story. (It’s almost like someone tore the last page out of the book of Mark—as a matter of fact, in the Greek the text ends in mid-sentence. Did Mark mean it that way, or have we lost the real ending?)
No, I think if I were going to write the story I’d do it more like what’s in the Gospel of Peter, which is one of the many Gospels that were floating around the early church, all but four of which didn’t make the cut when they finally put the Bible together as we have it today:
“…in the night in which the Lord’s day dawned, when the soldiers were safeguarding it two by two in every watch, there was a loud voice in heaven; and they saw that two males who had much radiance had come down from there and come near the sepulcher. But that stone which had been thrust against the door, having rolled by itself, went a distance off the side; and the sepulcher opened, and both the young men entered. And so those soldiers, having seen, awakened the centurion and the elders (for they too were present, safeguarding). And while they were relating what they had seen, again they see three males who have come out from the sepulcher, with the two supporting the other one, and a cross following them, and the head of the two reaching unto heaven, but that of the one being led out by a hand by them going beyond the heavens” (Gospel of Peter, translated by Raymond Brown).
Yeah, I think that’s how I’d write it, only I think maybe I’d want that giant Jesus to go up to the Romans and the Jewish elders who were there and say, “Hah!”
But this Gospel didn’t make it in. Instead we have Mark’s version, which goes by so suddenly we don’t even have time to ask, “What just happened?” I wasn’t there, and so I don’t know the discussions that might have gone on, but somehow the people who finalized the canon determined that Mark’s Gospel is in and the Gospel of Peter is out. And the whole issue of how they decided what books got in is very interesting, but not really germane on Easter morning, except to say that the fact that Mark’s Resurrection story is in the Bible and the one from the Gospel of Peter isn’t says something important to us.
Now, of course, as we have it today there’s quite a little bit of stuff at the end of Mark after verse 8, where our reading for today ends. There are resurrection appearances in Mark, and a sending out of the disciples. And there’s that troublesome verse that says certain signs will follow those who believe, including the ability to pick up snakes without being harmed. But this longer ending seems to most scholars to have been pieced together from stories in the other three Gospels, and the style of writing isn’t a thing like the rest of the book of Mark. It may have been added much later by Christians who knew the other Gospel stories, and knew that there were eyewitnesses who said they’d seen Jesus after the resurrection (see Paul’s discussion in 1 Corinthians 15, for instance). I think this ending was added by folks who may not have trusted that those who read the Gospel of Mark would get the point he was trying to make by having the story end in mid-sentence, and before anyone had actually seen the risen Christ.
Remember that each one of the Gospels is written for a different place and time and purpose; each of the four Evangelists had a slightly different point to make. Mark’s Gospel, many think, is a training manual of a sort. It conveys the basic outlines of the Gospel story, with a tremendous sense of urgency. Everything in Mark happens “suddenly” or “immediately.” When the story begins, Mark doesn’t devote any time or ink to telling stories of Jesus’ birth—there are no angels, no shepherds, no wise men, no Mary and Joseph, no manger, no star.
First John the Baptist appears in the wilderness (that’s the exact word Mark uses: appeared), and then Jesus comes and gets baptized, and by the fourteenth verse of the first chapter of the Gospel, Jesus is preaching. He calls his first disciples in verses 16-20, and then they’re off and running.
The point of this Gospel might be to get new believers to understand the basic story in a hurry, so they could et to work and be able to make disciples and teach and heal in whatever short time they had before the end-times, or they got arrested, whichever came first. Mark’s resurrection story is equally brief: Jesus died, he was buried, and then on Sunday morning some women came and found the tomb empty.
But the women told no one, and at least in the earliest form of the story, Jesus never appears. So how does it happen that we’re here today, if the story ends with three scared women saying nothing?
Well, it seems that Jesus did appear, because the rest of the Gospels talk about appearances and people who see Jesus—and Paul, as I mentioned, talks about eyewitnesses, and he wrote 1 Corinthians before any of the Gospels, even Mark, were written. But I think even if there hadn’t been resurrection appearances—and I am certain that there were—the story would have spread.
Easter just isn’t something you can keep to yourself—at least, it shouldn’t be. Look: if Christ is really raised from the dead, and churches would be empty on Easter Sunday if those who are there didn’t believe that on some level, then the back of death and sin and evil is broken. And if that’s the case, then what on earth do we have to be afraid of?
Do we have to fear being kept alive by machines or tubes—or do we have to fear those machines and tubes being turned off or disconnected? Do we have to fear the loss of our jobs, our prestige in the community, or even our money? Do we have to fear that if we don’t do something ourselves, our churches or our regions will not be here in 50 years?
No!
If Christ is really raised from the dead, then death is swallowed up in victory, in whatever form that death might take—death of our churches, death of our social status, death of our bodies or our ability to control what happens to our bodies. So let us live as people who have nothing to fear!
This brings us back to the reason Mark’s Gospel, with its abrupt mid-sentence ending, makes it into the Bible where the Gospel of Peter with its mile-high Jesus and walking, talking cross doesn’t: By leaving the story unfinished, Mark is telling us something very important.
Mark begins his Gospel with an introduction: “The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.” I suppose he could be saying, “I’m going to start telling you about Jesus now,” but I don’t think that’s what he’s doing. I think he’s introducing the whole book as “the beginning of the good news.” And by ending so abruptly, he’s saying to all who read his Gospel: “Now it’s up to you to be the rest of the story.”
The story began with the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus. You’ve been introduced, and you know Jesus came out of the tomb, even though the women initially were afraid to say so. Now keep your eyes open, because the risen Christ will appear to you; you will know his presence in your church and in your life. And when you do, then you get to add your witness to the story that continues from where I left off.
The Lord is risen! He is risen indeed! He is alive among us here, and as we go out into the world, as people of the Resurrection, we are part of the rest of the story.
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