I became acquainted with Jarman’s poetry through poems published in the Reformed Journal. Dailiness consists of a series of long essays on various aspects of poetry. Originally, I thought I would use this as evening reading, but the essays were too long and deep for that. I found myself falling asleep. They required more attention, so I began to read them in the morning with better success. Not only do these essays need to be read, but they also need to be pondered. As they are independent of each other, I recommend reading one per sitting. In each essay, Jarman muses about aspects of poetry as he reflects on a concept (like dailiness) while engaging in a conversation with poems throughout the ages.
After opening with a reflection of the epic Gilgamesh, the author explores the role of metaphor and repetition in poetry. He insists on the need for one to write daily with two essays (dailiness) and devotes essays to poetry as devotion and as part of the religious life. Here, he attempts to save the George Herbert (the parson poet) from critiques of T. S. Eliot and Samuel Johnson. However, to Herbert’s credit, Coolridge appreciated his poetry and Simone Weil credits one of his poems for her Christian conversion. Jarman (as with Malcolm Guite who I review below) explores the work of Seamus Heaney. I found his concluding essay on the pronoun “Something” inspiring. Reading this essay after church on Palm Sunday, which lead me to write the poem below.
I liked the book but would only recommend it to those serious about poetry. In a good way I found myself often looking up words (not in a dictionary, but with google on my phone). Like many books I read this one provided me with another book to check out, John Drury, Music at Midnight: The Life and Poetry of George Herbert (University of Chicago, 2014).
Now here is my poem:
Palm Sunday 2022
Something is happening and will happen this week. Something so dark and terrible we can barely comprehend over the noise of this day filled with excitement and expectation as the Messiah rides into Jerusalem to the cheers of the crowd. For evil lurks behind these walls and in the minds of those in power, and soon, the expectation of the crowd will melt into the excitement of a spectacle as the innocence one dies and the guilty go free.
Something is happening and will happen this week. Something so wonderful and hopeful we can barely comprehend over the noise of this day filled with excitement and expectation as the Messiah rides into Jerusalem to the cheers of the crowd. For the goodness of God prevails over evil and in the deep darkness of the week, on the stillness of the morning of the third day a light will burst from a tomb as the innocent one rises and the guilty pardoned.
-Jeff Garrison, April 10, 2022
Malcolm Guite, In Every Corner Sing: A Poet’s Corner Collection
(Norwich, UK: Canterbury Press, 2018), 196 pages.
I had not read Guite when I heard him speak at the HopeWords Writing Conference in Bluefield earlier this month. While there, I purchased and had him sign this collection of his columns which appeared in Church Times, a British magazine. Each article is about 500 words or two to two and a half pages in length. Although English, Guite spent part of his years growing up in Canada. As I read this book, I enjoyed getting to know him better. Each article draws on poetry, from ancient to modern poets including a few from his own hand.
In them, he muses about poetry and the natural world. We learn of a man who enjoys many things, from smoking a pipe to walking his dogs. We also learn of his deep faith in Christ, his delight at the natural world, and how we are connected to those who came before us. Most of these essays have a nice twist at the end. In one story, he marvels at an old bridge as he canoes “Willow” on a river through the bridge. The last two arches in the bridge are “new.” They were rebuilt after having been destroyed Cromwell’s era (17th Century) to prevent an army from taking a town. After flirting with the bridge, the poetry of Tennyson and Eliot, he ends marveling at the bridge God has built through Christ that cannot be destroyed.
This was a perfect wind-down book for the evening as I could read through four or five of the seventy-three columns, before closing the book, turning out the light, and going to bed.
Peter Yang, The Art of Writing: Four Principles for Great Writing that Everyone Needs to Know
(TCK Publishing, 2019), 89 pages.
Yang distills the writing process into four principles: Economy, Transparency, Variety, and Harmony. And, with homage to “economy”, he does this in 89 pages. A lot of people could benefit from these principles to help clarify their thoughts on paper. This is the value of this small volume. While this may not be on par with William Zinsser’s On Writing Well, few people will wade through Zinsser’s more detailed prose. What Yang provides are simple ideas, each backed up with a couple of stories and examples. For the person just wanting to learn some basic techniques to make their writing appeal to more audiences, The Art of Writing would be a good place to begin. Disclaimer: I received this book in exchange for an honest review of the work.
Jeff Garrison Mayberry and Bluemont Churches 1 Corinthians 15:12-28 April 17, 2022
At the beginning of worship:
In a devotion for Easter a few years ago, Richard Rohr, reminded his readers that “Easter isn’t celebrating a one-time miracle as if it only happened in the body of Jesus and we’re all here to cheer for Jesus.” Sadly, he concludes, that’s what a lot of people think. Rohr places the seeds for Easter in Christmas, with the incarnation.[1] If God can become flesh (that’s incarnation), the resurrection naturally follows. The resurrection is what Easter is all about. Ask yourself, “What difference does the resurrection make for your life?” Remember, the empty tomb which we come to celebrate today is just the beginning.
Before the reading of Scripture:
In the 15th Chapter of First Corinthians, Paul provides the most detailed treatment of the resurrection found in scripture. It’s a long chapter. This morning, I will begin reading in verse 12. Here, Paul begins by pointing to objections being made about the resurrection. For Paul, the foundation of our hope in Jesus Christ is found in the resurrection to life everlasting. Yes, we will all die; we will cease to exist. But the grave is not the end! Later on in this chapter, Paul can ask: “O death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting?”[2] He can be that bold because he believes, as we proclaim in the Apostles’ Creed, “in the resurrection of the body and in the life everlasting.”
People turn to the church when there is a death because we’re the only place that offers hope for something beyond our frail mortal bodies. In all the work I did on the history of Western Mining Camps, one of the surprising things I learned was how at the time of death, even people who religiously avoided the shadow of the steeple, would be brought back for a funeral.
Funerals in the Old West
The friends of Julia Bulette, Virginia City’s most famous prostitute, sought out the presbyterian minister for her funeral. Mark Twain in Roughing It has a wonderful tale about Buck Fanshaw’s funeral. Fanshaw, a leader of the “bottom-stratum of society” and based on a real-life character who had a relationship with Bulette, died. The local roughs elected Scotty Briggs to “fetch a parson” to “waltz Fanshaw into handsome” (their word for heaven). The dialogue between the minister and Scotty is classic Twain.[3] Although funny, it’s a reminder that at the time of death, we want the comfort only the church can offer: the hope in life everlasting in Jesus Christ.
The resurrection and how we live
But let me suggest that such comfort isn’t just for the dying. It’s also important for how we live our lives. Having faith in the resurrection allows us to be bold.
We must look no further than to John Knox, the great reformer of Scotland, to see boldness fortified by belief in the resurrection. Knox converted to the Protestant faith through the preaching of George Wishart. Knox first heard Wishart in Leith on December 13th, 1545. While Knox had began moving toward the Protestant movement with his study of Scripture, Wishart’s preaching sealed the transformation. Knox immediately became Wishart’s disciple and spent the next five weeks with him. Knox stuck by Wishart, even though he knew he was marked man. In early 1546, less than two months after the two met, Wishart was arrested and burned at the stake in St. Andrews.[4] Knox avoided such a barbecue, but ended up doing hard time as a prisoner, manning oars on a galley ship. Why would someone be so willing to risk their own life unless they really believe it’s worth it?
At death and in times of peril, the church is a symbol of our faith and the hope we have for something we can never fully comprehend in this life, the resurrection.
Exploring the text
Let’s look at our text. In verses 12 through 19, Paul plays the devil’s advocate. If there is no resurrection, it’s a big joke. If there is no resurrection, we are to be pitied. Of course, Paul doesn’t believe that. In verse 20, Paul shifts his argument with a powerful “BUT.” This change of direction wipes out the objections he’d just raised. “But Christ has been raised,” Paul proclaims; this truth makes all the difference in the world!
Adam’s sin
Paul begins by contrasting two men who represent more than themselves. Adam is not just our first-umpteenth great-granddaddy; he stands as the primal man, the representative of us all.[5] The death that comes through sin is something we all share. Interestingly here, Paul does not cite Eve or blame her for the first sin, the eating of the forbidden fruit. In this way, Paul is more enlightened than he is often given credit. Within the rabbinical tradition at the time, as can be seen in the Apocryphal literature, Ben Sirach lays the blame for sin and death on the first woman. After all, Eve was the first to nibble on that sinful fruit.[6] But Paul doesn’t go there. Instead, by using Adam as an archetype for all humanity, he shows that we all share in the blame for sin and in sin’s consequence: death.
Response to Adam: Jesus’ resurrection
However, there is good news. Although death came through a human being, so too has the resurrection come through a human being. Paul lifts the Christmas doctrine of the incarnation. In Jesus Christ, God became flesh! Christ is the first-fruit of the resurrection, a term that probably meant more to Paul’s audience than to us today. For you see, the Jews were to bring the first of the harvest, their first-fruits, to God as an offering of thanksgiving. We tend to give God what is left, not our first-fruit, which probably says a lot more about our spiritual state that we’d honestly like to admit. However, this isn’t about our giving, it’s about God’s gift, for God the Father gave us his first-fruit, in that of his Son.
All this is a part of God’s plan in history, Paul notes. It’s all a part of the great plan to destroy all authorities and powers that defy or challenge God. At the end, there will be nothing to draw our attention from the Almighty. All idols will be destroyed, all that which we fear will be removed, the last of which is death itself. With the removal of that great enemy which has haunted humanity since the beginning, we can worship God without fear or distraction.
Enemies under Jesus’ feet
Kenneth Bailey, in his commentary on First Corinthians, goes into detail about the meaning of Jesus placing all his enemies (the last one being death), under his feet. Bailey suggests that verses 24-27 could be removed and the reader wouldn’t notice. You can try this yourself, at home, just leave the verses out and see how it reads. So why did Paul insert this little segue? It’s to make a political point: Jesus is Lord!
If Jesus is Lord, that means Caesar isn’t Lord. He cites examples from the ancient world in which the ruler’s footstool often had engravings representing the kingdom’s enemies and when the ruler placed his foot upon the stool, he was making a statement about his power. When Christ has finished, there will be no possibilities of his enemies, including death, making a comeback![7]
Example of enemies underfoot from Korea
In the winter of 2000, I had the opportunity to spend a few weeks in Korea: preaching, sightseeing and mountain climbing. I visited the imperial city in Seoul, where the emperor once ruled, his throne built on a hill that allowed him to overlook the city. In 1910, Japan invaded Korea. The Japanese decided it was too dangerous to destroy the ancient throne, so instead they built a modern government building to block the view from the city. When there, a controversy over what to do with this building that was architecturally significant ensued. Many wanted to tear it down, which is what happened, but others wanted to relocate it. One of the more creative ideas, which caused a minor international incident with the Japanese, was to dig a hole and sink the building and then glass over the top. That way, the building would not be destroyed, but the Korean people could have the satisfaction of “walking over” or stomping on the visible representation of 40 years of Japanese occupation.
Enemies not under our feet, but Jesus’
The idea of our enemies being under our feet is still strong in our imaginations, as we can see from Korea. We can only imagine what kind of imagery Ukraine will come up with! Yet, we need to remember that in the eternal realm, we’re not conquerors, Christ is! We’re not the victors; we share in Christ’s victory. The enemies are not under our feet, but his. And they’re not our enemies, they’re his enemies. We might even be surprised to find some of our enemies on Jesus’ side. All things are possible with God. But the important thing isn’t who’s in and out, it’s whether or not we are on Jesus’ side. Consider this, if we are out, we could end up being a footstool.
Conclusion
Friends, we’re mortal and we’re going to die. We know that, even if we sometimes act as if we don’t. As for when or how we’ll die, we don’t know. But we live with hope. We’re told that Jesus is the first fruit of the resurrection. The implication here is that Jesus will not be the only one raised. Jesus’ resurrection is not the exception to the rule. Jesus’ resurrection is the start of something new: all who trust and accept him will live with him eternally.[8]
And because we put our faith in Christ and through him have faith in the resurrection, we can live this life without fear. We can be like John Knox, following George Wishart to the stake. We can be bold on behalf of our Savior. Friends, live fiercely, in the knowledge that in life and in death, we belong to Jesus Christ.[9] Amen.
[3] Mark Twain, Roughing It (1872), Chapter 47. See also Charles Jeffrey Garrison, “Of Ministers, Funerals, and Humor: Mark Twain of the Comstock,” Nevada Historical Society Quarterly 38, #3 (Fall 1995).
[4] Jane Dawson, John Knox (New Haven: Yale, 2015), 28-32.
[5] Hans Conzelmann, First Corinthians: Hermeneia—A Critical and Historical Commentary on the Bible (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1975), 268.
[6] Kenneth E. Bailey, Paul Through Mediterranean Eyes: Cultural Studies in 1 Corinthians (Downers Grove, IL: IVP Press, 2011), 443. See Sirach 25:24
Much of this blog post had been originally published as an article in The Skinnie published in March 2018. This version has been slightly edited and altered.
Easter Sunday 1982, Old Salem, North Carolina
The wake-up call came at 4:30 AM Sunday morning. I am staying at a hotel right across from Old Salem in present-day Winston Salem. Washing the sleep out of my eyes, I hear the music playing from the street down below. It was been warm when I left home in eastern North Carolina, but a cold snap descended on Saturday. I dress as warmly as possible, pulling on multiple layers. I realize I don’t even have gloves with me.
By 5 AM, I am outside the hotel, walking with strangers, heading to Home Moravian Church. On most street corners, we pass brass quartets playing Easter music, calling people to come. By the time I reached the church, thousands had gathered, waiting in front of the steps of the sanctuary. A cold wind blows and the dark sky spits snow. In the distance, we hear the brass playing. We shuffle around trying to stay warm and waited. The anticipation of the crowd is high as we have all gathered to participate in the second oldest Easter sunrise service in North America. The honor for the oldest sunrise tradition belongs to the Moravians of Bethlehem, Pennsylvania, who began holding such services in 1754.
It was still dark when a light comes on inside the church foyer. Then massive wooden doors fly open. The pastor steps out on to the porch. He raises his arms and shouts, “Christ is Risen!” We respond, “He is Risen Indeed!” The Pastor and his assistants step out of the church, and we follow them down Church Street to God’s Acre, the community’s cemetery. God’s Acre is many acres, large enough to hold the thousands who have gathered. We pack in and wait as the sky becomes lighter gray. A few stray flakes of snow still fall.
Then it starts. All those brass quartets unite, and they march in from behind us playing Easter hymns. As they move to the front, we stand and began to sing. The ministers pray and read scripture. The pastor offers a brief message about the hope of the resurrection. Somewhere behind the gray clouds, the sun rises. A new day begins. The benediction is pronounced and we head our separate ways.
Arriving back in the hotel, I stop by the restaurant for breakfast. The place is packed with those coming back from the service. The poor lone waitress is running around trying to serve everyone. Most of us just want hot coffee and are willing to wait to eat as we warm up. She apologizes and says the management had forgotten that it’s Easter Sunday and hadn’t scheduled anyone else to work the shift. Several of us help out, taking turns making and serving coffee as she takes and delivers our orders.
History of the Sunrise Service
The Moravians of Old Salem have been celebrating Easter Sunrise at God’s Acre since 1772, picking up on a practice that begin in Europe in 1732. In the town of Hernhut, which is now in the Czech Republic, the young men of the church gathered in the cemetery during the night and waited for dawn by singing hymns of the faith. The services are simple with hymns, prayers, scripture, and a brief message that is all done to the glory of God. The sunrise service is now an established tradition within the Moravian Church and one that has been adopted by many other Christian denominations.
Of course, those Moravian young men were not the first to be up at sunrise on Easter. That distinction goes to the women described in the gospels who headed out before sunrise to anoint Jesus body before the tomb was sealed. They were shocked to find the grave open and Jesus’ body missing. As the events of that day unfold, they learn of his resurrection, an event that gives hope to Christians to this day.
Easter Sunday, 1975, Wilmington, North Carolina
I first attended an Easter sunrise service as a high school student. It was held in a cemetery off Greenville Sound, east of Wilmington, North Carolina. Unlike the year I was at Old Salem, the skies were clear. And just as the sun broke over the horizon, its rays reflecting off the water and bring warmth to the marsh grass, several ducks took the skies, their calls and the flapping of their wings drowning out the voice of the preacher. Even they celebrated the new day. In the years before seminary, I would attend many such services at a variety of locations. The message was always the same. Christ has risen!
Easter Sunday 1989, Virginia City, Nevada
Mount Davidson from Boot Hill at sunrise
For obvious reasons, sunrise services seem to be more popular in the American South, but as a seminary student pastor, I brought the tradition to Virginia City, Nevada. There, we gathered on “Boot Hill” on a cold morning. The temperature was in the mid-20s and the wind was blowing hard over Sun Mountain. But we witnessed a glorious sunrise, the rays racing up Six Mile Canyon. Afterwards, we enjoyed coffee and warm pastries back at the church.
Easter Sunday 1991, Ellicottville, New York
In my first call to a church in Ellicottville, New York, a community known for skiing, we partnered with Holiday Valley, the local ski resort, to host the service on a deck outside a clubhouse. It was even colder than at Virginia City, but we dressed appropriately, wearing ski bids and parkers. Nicky, a young woman volunteered to provide music on a keyboard. We started with a song and were going to close with the traditional hymn, “Christ the Lord is Risen Today.” As we began to sing, Nicky missed note after note. I looked over to see what was wrong. The keyboard had frosted over between hymns and her fingers were sticking to the keys. Afterwards, with hot drinks and donuts inside the lodge, we had a laugh over the situation. The next year, she brought a blanket to lay over the keyboard.
Easter Sunday 2020, Skidaway Island, Georgia
When I accepted the called to the Presbyterian Church on Skidaway Island, I saw the perfect opportunity to hold an Easter Sunrise Service in a park next to the marina on the north end of the Island. Starting in 2015, we began holding services. The first year, we had maybe 50 in attendance. It was beautiful as the sun rose over the marsh and the Wilmington River.
In 2016, a heavy rainstorm was ensuing, so about 30 who came out made their way to the church’s fellowship hall where held the service. Afterwards, Thom, a member of the church volunteered to video tape a sunrise in which we could use inside just in case of rain. Over the next several years, we had beautiful weather and our number grew to nearly 200 worshippers.
Sunrise at Landings Harbor, 2017
Then, in 2020, everything shut down because of COVID. The park had been closed and churches were not meeting inside. We decided to to record a sunrise service that involved just a few of us, all maintaining safe distance. After a live stream Maundy Thursday Service (which only had a camera operator, my associate, the organist, a soloist, and myself), we set up a green screen in the sanctuary to record. While the organist played in the background, we all did our parts, stepping in front of the green screen to be recorded. This allowed Thom’s sunrise to play behind us and it appeared as if we were at the marina.
The most precious moment in the service came when Gene, the soloist, sang “Jesus Christ, is Risen Today.” On the tape, the sun rose as birds took to air. A seagull, on the tape, flew toward the camera then turned back and flew out over the water. On the recording, this bird appeared to fly right through Gene’s head. We laughed and laughed and decided not to cut it out. “That alone is worth the price of admission,” Gene said.
Sunrise at Landings Harbor Marina, overlooking the Wilmington River
We uploaded the sunrise service to YouTube and set it to go live on Easter Sunday morning. That Easter, we all slept in.
Sunrise 2022, Bluemont Church
Bluemont Church Blue Ridge Parkway Milepost #192
This year, there will be a sunrise service at Bluemont Presbyterian Church, located along the parkway at milepost #191. The service is outside so you may want to bring a lawn chair and a blanket. The service will begin at 6:45 AM. Afterwards, coffee and a light breakfast will be hosted in the fellowship hall. We hope you will join us.
Other Holy Week Services along the Blue Ridge Parkway
Mayberry Church Blue Ridge Parkway Milepost #180
April 14 Maundy Thursday communion Mayberry Church at 6 PM
April 15 Good Friday Service Bluemont Church at noon
April 17 Worship at Mayberry at 9 AM Worship at Bluemont at 10:30 AM
Jeff Garrison Bluemont and Mayberry Churches April 10, 2022 John 12:12-26
Sermon recorded at Bluemont Church on Friday, April 8, 2022
At the beginning of worship:
Palm Sunday. We begin Holy Week as we recall Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem. Later, when I read the Scripture, I am using the account told in John’s gospel, which is often overlooked on Palm Sunday. But John has something important to tell us. John reminds us of the political nature of this date. The crowds are present at the beginning. They’re ready. They want to see Jesus because of what he’s done, especially raising of Lazarus from the dead. They wave palm branches, symbols the Jews used in their revolts against Rome.
But Jesus downplays all this by coming into Jerusalem on a donkey.[1]In the ancient world, if a king came upon a city riding a stallion, it was a sign of war. But if he rode a donkey, it was a sign he was coming in peace. Our world today can use a little peace, don’t you think?
Before the reading of the scripture:
Our reading this morning is from the 12th Chapter of John’s gospel, beginning with the 12th verse. This incident occurs shortly after Jesus raised Lazarus from the grave, and a few days before his crucifixion. The situation in Jerusalem is tense. Paradoxically, we learn in John’s gospel, Lazarus’ life-giving miracle serves as the final straw for the Jewish leaders. In the previous chapter, we learn the leaders in Jerusalem fear Jesus will force the Romans to respond brutally. The decide to kill him. “It’s better to have one man die for the people than the whole nation destroyed,” the high priest said.[2] He had no idea the truth he proclaimed. Providing life for one, Lazarus, leads to the death of another, Jesus. We shouldn’t be surprised, that’s the gospel as Jesus gives his life for ours.
Jesus comes into Jerusalem. John leaves off the story of the disciples borrowing a donkey and all that.[3] Instead, John gives us the basics. Jesus rides a donkey, and a crowd has already gathered to see him. They wave palm branches and shout out the from Psalm 118, “Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord.” They also quote from the prophets, “Do not be afraid, daughter of Zion. Look, your king is coming, sitting on a donkey’s colt!”[4]
John tells us that even the disciples are dismay and unsure what to make of it all. Only after the resurrection do they understand. The Pharisees, however, are worried. From their perspective, Jesus appears to draw the entire world into his camp. Again, as with the high priest, John foreshadows what will happen. In the very next verse, some Greeks asks for Jesus.
Who are these Greeks?
I like the question they ask Philip. “Sir, we wish to see Jesus.” It’s a line often found inside the pulpit, a reminder to the preacher that his or her goal is to introduce the congregation to Jesus.[5] Hopefully, at times, we experience Jesus here, as well as in our lives.
Greeks are outsiders. They are not ethnically Jews. A shift occurs. Jesus primarily worked with the Jews. Now, Greeks seek Jesus. There are disagreements among scholars if these “Greeks” were Greek-speaking Jews, Jewish proselytes, or straight-out Gentiles.[6] Since they’re in Jerusalem right before the Passover, it seems that they must be interested in Judaism. Maybe they are considering the adoption of Jewish practices and becoming a proselyte. But John doesn’t say. Regardless of their background, John uses them to foreshadow Jesus’ larger purpose—salvation for the entire world.
“Sir, we wish to see Jesus,” they ask. Jesus draws people to himself, which he still does today, but we’re not told if they ever saw Jesus. The question is asked of Philip—a disciple with a Greek name. Alexander the Great’s father was named Philip. This may be why they approached this disciple, thinking if his name is Philip, he’s one of them. Philip, it seems, can’t do anything by himself. Instead of answering, he runs off finds Andrew (the other disciple with a Greek name).[7] The two of them take the request to Jesus.[8] But John doesn’t tell us if Jesus granted them an audience. Instead, John notes Jesus’ shift in conversation, as he talks about what’s going to happen.
Jesus takes the conversation in a different direction
“The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified.” Now that John has shown that interest in Jesus extends beyond those from in Judah, Galilee and Samaria, Jesus focuses on what is about to unfold.
Hearing that Jesus is to be glorified was probably sweet music to the disciples’ ears. They’ve been wondering when Jesus would usher in his kingdom. They’ve had visions of Jesus sitting up on David’s throne and them all around him in positions of power and glory.
But Jesus doesn’t stop at the glory, he continues with a disturbing parable. “Unless the wheat falls to the earth and dies, it remains only a kernel, but in dying it can grow into a plant which bears fruit.” Jesus isn’t just hinting around; he says clearly that he must die. The Pharisees and high priest will get their wish. As Jesus peaks in popularity, his life and ministry on earth comes to an end.
Parable of a seed
Let’s consider this parable. Farming was tough back in Jesus’ day. There were no Co-ops or Farm Supply Stores where you could buy seed. Instead, you kept a portion of your previous harvest as seed so you would have something to plant during the next season. This means that if you had a poor harvest and, as the winter continued, your supply of wheat would dwindle, and you’d have to make a hard decision. Do you eat all your wheat, or do you tighten up your belt and go with less so that you will have seed enough for another crop? Consider your thoughts as you, on an empty stomach, sowed the seeds into the ground. It took faith to be a farmer back then, just as it does today, to bury seeds knowing they’ll die but in the hopes they’ll sprout.
Some of the disciples listening to Jesus’ parable had probably experienced such situations. They knew the value of planting, of letting the seed die in the hopes that God would give it new life and an abundant harvest. Here Jesus talks about himself, about his death, but quickly shifts to talk not just about himself but also about his followers.
The lives of Jesus’ followers
“Those who love their life will lose it and those who hate their life in this world will keep it for eternal life. Whoever serves me must follow me…” This idea of losing our lives or losing ourselves for Jesus isn’t too appealing, but there is something to it because variations of this saying by Jesus is recorded in all four of the gospels.[9]
What should we take from this passage? Jesus wants to make sure his disciples, and his followers who come later, know that he came to die. Jesus’ death is counter intuitive. Through his death, through being lifted up (if you’d read ahead to verse 33), Jesus draws all people to himself. Like the seed that dies in the ground as it sprouts new growth, Jesus knows his sacrifice will reap an incredible harvest.
Jesus like a parent protecting children
“I love you enough to die for you,” Jesus shows. Jesus is like a good parent who will do anything and everything to save the children. It is something instilled in mothers throughout the animal kingdom. I have seen it when paddling on a river and come near to the nests of ducks and one bird takes off, limping, as if to lead us from the nest. The bird keeps moving away from the nest until you are far away and then, flying normally, circles back.
I’ve also seen this behavior when hiking. A grouse will wobble away from the nest, acting hurt, staying just out-of-reach, until you are a safe distant from the nest. Then the bird flies off normally and circles back to the nest. Both birds make themselves vulnerable to save their young.
I read about such people in the news this week. A Ukrainian couple who could have fled the Russian army, but instead stayed back to help those who weren’t able to flee. And they were killed as they sought out food for their elderly neighbors.
Jesus’ sacrifice and our call
Jesus sacrifices for us, but he also calls on us to sacrifice for others. It is not just about Jesus’ sacrifice, but our willingness to work on behalf of others. If we follow Jesus, we must, as he said in another place, “Pick up our cross daily.”[10] The Spiritual life is about being in tune with the needs of others. We must be willing to sacrifice, to let go of things we hold dear which hinder our walk with Jesus.
This passage confirms that following Jesus has cost. It may cost our own lives. Yet, our focus isn’t on what we’ll lose, but on what we will gain in the end.
Anything worthwhile comes with a cost
We always must give up something to acquire something else, that’s a principle of economics. You can’t have it all. You can’t have your cake and eat it too. So, we make economic decision to sacrifice one thing for another. If you’re a kid and you have a dollar burning in your pocket, you decide if you’re going to spend it on an ice cream cone that’s been tempting you or save it, hoping one day you’ll have enough for a bike. One satisfies an immediate need, the other a long-term need.
Unfortunately, in our society, immediate gratification generally wins. But not in the gospel! Long-term gratification always takes precedent. Consider Jesus’ words about storing up our treasures in heaven where we don’t have to fear thieves and where they will not rust.[11]
Where is Jesus calling us?
What is it that Jesus is calling us to give up for him? A lot of what is being taught in this passage has to do with death, but I hope you can see a linkage between this parable and Jesus’ teachings on stewardship. In the parable of the talents, in which those who were rewarded had invested all they had, the ones who were rewarded did not hedge their bets.[12] They had faith.
Jesus calls us to be faithful and willing to invest in the building up of his kingdom. As an individual, that may mean being willing to give sacrificially to Christ’s work in our church and in his missions in the world. Or it may mean you give up a pleasurable vacation and volunteer to go on a mission trip. As a congregation it may mean us making uncomfortable changes in our music or time of worship in hopes of making new disciples. When we follow Jesus, we are forced out of our comfortable zone as we strive to help others.
Conclusion
Let’s go back to the question, “Sir, we wish to see Jesus?” How would we respond to such a request? Although we can’t take them physically to Jesus, we witness to our Lord through our lives and in the life of his community, the church. For we are his body in the world and when we follow him, he should be seen through our lives. As Jesus reminds us in the Parable of the Judgment of the Nations,[13] when we show kindness, we serve him. But you know what; Jesus doesn’t want us to wait for that question. Instead, he wants us to share him by showing his love to others. Are we willing to make such a sacrifice? Amen.
[6] Brown thinks they are Greek proselytes. See Raymond Brown, The Gospel According to John I-XII, Anchor Bible Commentary (New York: Doubleday, 1966), 466. Sloyan thinks they’re Greek speaking Jews living outside Israel’s borders. Gerald Sloyan, John: Interpretation, a Bible Commentary for Teaching and Preaching (Atlanta: John Knox, 1988),155.
I traveled to Bluefield last Friday to attend the HopeWords Writers’ Conference. I had never been to Bluefield, although I often taken the West Virginia turnpike, I-77, through West Virginia. The turnpike bypasses Bluefield by about ten miles to the north. Known for coal and trains, the Norfolk Southern yard takes up much of the flat land along the valley. The railroad’s shops to maintain engines and cars are on the west side of the tracks and in the middle of the yard, a large coal tipple rises like a village steeple in an English town. There are still a few long coal trains running through the city, but I’m sure not as many as in previous decades with the decline of coal.
The commercial district of Bluefield rises to the east of the tracks, rising up the hill with each road that parallels the tracks gaining more elevation. Like many cities, the downtown suffered greatly over the last few decades. Decay can be seen everywhere. Old houses and abandon buildings became havens for illicit drug use. Many elegant homes that once overlooked the city fell into ruin. Their iron fences and gates rusted and the concrete steps leading up from the street below broken. Thankfully, in recent years there has been an attempt to bring back the downtown. Buildings and homes have been renovated. There are trendy restaurants and funky museums. The old West Virginia hotel is being converted to apartments. Amid this revival is the Granada Theater. Built in 1928, the theater stood abandoned for years. But after a community effort, it has been restored to its previous grandeur and reopened this year. What better place for a writer’s conference focusing on hope?
Bluefield may not be the most likely place for a writer’s conference, but several years ago, Travis Lowe, a city resident, had an idea. Travis, at the time a local pastor, admits he had never been to a writer’s conference but felt that Bluefield was an ideal place for a conference that talked about hope. From this dream, HopeWords was born. This is the fourth conference held, and the first I’ve attended. Kicking off the conference was an hour of wonderful jazz music on Friday evening.
Friday night jazz in the Granada
Makoto Fujimura
Drawing me to the conference was the Japanese/American artist and author Makoto Fujimura. Last year, I read his book Art and Faith: A Theology of Making and reviewed it in my blog in early in January. He gave a masterful presentation on Friday evening. As he started, he joked how he drove 8 hours from his home Princeton, NJ only to find himself back in Princeton (West Virginia).
Fujimura spoke of art rising out of the brokenness of our lives and world. While we prefer “good news,” he noted that we live in a world that is filled with bad news—hate and fear. But our art and writing can bring healing. He drew on the lives of Herman Melville, Vincent Van Gogh, Emily Dickerson along with the Japanese art known as Kintsugi, to show how beauty can come out of tragedy. Then he moved to the story of Jesus’ resurrection, suggesting that God is the real Kintsugi Master. He closed with the benediction that is found at the end of his book, Art and Faith, a part of which I’ve copied below:
May we steward well that the Creator King has given us, and accept God’s invitation to sanctify our imagination and creativity, even as we labor hard on this side of eternity.
On Saturday morning, Fujimara was joined by his wife, an attorney in New York. The two of them spoke of their hopeful work within the brothels of India, teaching art to the children and trying to help them find a way out of such improvised lifestyle. During his morning talk, Fujimura mentioned how his conversion to Christianity came through reading William Blake’s epic poem, “Jerusalem.” I found that interesting!
Hannah Anderson
The first speaker on Saturday morning was Hannah Anderson, who lives with her family in Roanoke, Virginia. Hannah is the author of four books, and I have a copy of Humble Roots on order as I did not get to the table to purchase this book before they were sold out. Having grown up in a part of Pennsylvania abandoned by industry, she said she feels right at home in Bluefield.
Anderson spoke of bringing the natural world into our writing, not as a prop or a setting, but as a part of the story. Nature and creation, she said, is telling a story. Nature provides the best example of “showing and not telling.” Nature reveals. Drawing on Psalm 19 and the writing of Annie Dillard, she linked nature back to God in both its glory and terror. “Nature is hopeful and darker than we image,” she said. She concluded with three points about nature in writing:
Show, don’t tell. Get out of the way.
Partner with nature. Remember that nature is a metaphor only from our perspective.
Trust the story nature tells. Jesus used nature in parables not only because he lived in an agrarian world but because such stories are true.
Winn Collier
Our next speaker, Winn Collier, recently published the authorized biography of Eugene Peterson and directs the Peterson Center at Western Theological Seminary in Holland, Michigan. I received Peterson’s biography as a Christmas present but have not yet read it. I told him this when he signed my book. He laughed and handing the book back said that now I’ll have to read it.
Soft spoken but profound, Collier began discussing the poetry of Genesis 1 and moving to John 1. Collier commended poetry for helping us understand ourselves, God, and the world I which we live. But we must not forget that God spoke first (although he also quoted Rabbi Abraham Hessel, “God begins where words end”). God, at creation, choose to use words. And God always calls first. This also ties into the incarnation of God in Jesus Christ, where holiness and humanity go together. While we don’t do “sacred writing,” our writing becomes sacred when it responds to a God who calls us first.
Calling for bold and fresh words, Collier drew on the work of two authors. The late Jim Harrison (whom I have read and wrote the novella which became the movie “Legends of the Fall”) and the late Brian Doyle (whom I haven’t read, but now have his last book, One Long River of Songs, on my TBR list).
One Thin Dime Museum and Gary Bowlings House of Art
One of the presenters had cancelled, with allowed us to have a longer period for lunch. While there were restaurants nearby, the conference also provided bag lunches. I decided to go the bag lunch option and then use the rest of the time to explore a local history museum (One Thin Dime Museum) and an artist colony (Gary Bowlings House of Art) in the old school three blocks away from the theater. The art was modern, funky, gothic and made more delightful by Gary Bowling welcoming everyone who stopped in to visit.
S. D. Smith
After the lunch break, the conference resumed with Travis Lowe humorously interviewing S. D. Smith. Smith is a West Virginia author from Beckley, who writes fantasy for a young audience. While I haven’t read him, it appears his books are filled with characters like rabbits with swords. Much of the conversation skirted around having children read fairytales. Smith defends the darkness in such stories. After all, they know the world is evil. But the fairytale doesn’t just scare the child with the dragon, but gives them hope in the likes of St. George who slays the dragon. “Write with evil and enemies,” he said, but “also where there is hope.”
Lewis Brogdon
Lewis Brogdon a Bluefield native, spoke on “Writing After a Struggle with God.” Brogdon is African American and an Old Testament scholar. He drew heavily on the writings of Walter Brueggmann, another Old Testament scholar who labelled the term “prophetic imagination” to describe the role of the Biblical prophets who “conjured and proposed different futures.” Recalling the works of Habakkuk and Jonah, along with the New Testament story of the Good Samaritan, he reminded us that our job as writers is not to look away from needs. It was the Samaritan, not the priest or Levite, who saw a need and did something about it.
“The pandemic exposed deep problems we have in the world that we have tried to cover up,” Brogdon said. “God is giving us an opportunity to do better.” He went on to insist that when we fail to show compassion, we lose our humanity. “The pandemic displays our “callous disregard for human life in America,” he said. Brogdon encouraged us to listen to the experiences of others, especially those living poverty. Listening to such stories will help us deepen our faith, for God works in such tensions in society.
Martin Luther King’s “Letter from a Birmingham Jail,” was the example Brogdon used of how writing can help us see. While the answers to the problems are not always easy, “the gospel does not call us to do nothing. We can’t fix the world, but we can make it a better place.” Brodgon then moved to the spiritual of Black preaching, which has generally been described as “pastoral, priestly, and prophetic.” He proposed a new model that moves from moral imagination to moral courage to moral intelligence. Then he asked, “what would it mean to write and inspire, to nurture and deepen imagination, courage, and intelligence in our readers?”
As he drew his remarks to a close, Brogdon offered several writing prompts for our journals (he also humorously suggested that anyone who doesn’t keep a journal should just get up and leave, as they don’t belong in a writer’s conference). First is a question to he asked in a recent piece he wrote on in an article titled, “America on the Blink: Musings on Race, Politics, and Religion:” “Is America endangered in losing its soul.” Brogdon other questions were more general:
What are you struggling with personally (especially that which intersects with a broken world)?
What keeps you up at night, or wakes you up?
What bothers you to the point that you can’t look away?
What issues are you passionate about?
Where have you experienced pain?
What understanding have we gained about the pain in others which can help us tell the truth about racist and sexist things we once laughed about. In the last, he confessed personally about the jokes on homosexuality that used to be regularly laughed over within African American congregation.
Malcom Guite
Our last speaker was Malcom Guite, a British theologian, Anglican priest, and a poet.
Guite began his talk with a humorous “minor exorcism,” he which he dispelled any demons who challenge us not to write or read poetry. Then, he moved into his presentation on poetry which he centered around a poem titled “The Rain Stick,” by the late Irish poet (and his friend) Seamus Heaney. While using pieces of this poem to make his points, Guite used a real a rain stick (a dead piece of cactus with seeds inside that when tipped over makes the sound of rain) to illustrate what he was saying. Woven into this talk was a discussion about his study of chemistry and his challenge to the scientific demand that one only writes in the 3rd person.
Guite drew on Jesus’ saying about its easier for a camel to get through the eye of a needle than a rich person to get to heaven. Dismissing ideas to this saying such as there was a “needle gate into the city, he suggested that the poetic answer is the paradox. He linked Jesus’ “eye of a needle” with Heaney’s use of the term “ear of a raindrop.” In these small things, God can be encountered and experienced.
Guite speaking & holding his rain stick under his left arm (I’m sitting in the balcony)
My favorite quote from Guite: “Sometimes we receive packages that says on the outside, “Contents may have settled in shipping. Sometimes I think our churches need to have these warnings on our outside walls.” Then he turned over the rain stick in his hand, and we once again heard the sound!
Future HopeWords
Next year’s HopeWords Writers’ Conference is scheduled for March 24-25, 2023. Won’t you join me? This year, the conference price was only $95, plus the price of a hotel room (I stayed in Princeton, West Virginia, where there are more hotels along I-77). Registration for 2023 opened today (April 9). Check it out here!
Jeff Garrison Bluemont and Mayberry Churches Isaiah 6 April 3, 2022
Sermon recorded on Thursday, March 31, 2022, at Mayberry Church
At the beginning of worship:
Each of us are instilled with the need to worship. Whether or not we’re Christian, whether or not we’re religious, we have a desire to find meaning in something larger than ourselves. That “something” becomes the object of our worship.
The “atheistic Communist,” whom we used to so fear, believed in a dialectical materialistic philosophy they saw giving rise and power to the proletariat to create a new state. They worshipped the state. We see this today in Putin’s nationalism extended to all Russian speakers.
Even the most apathetic couch potato, who never darkens the door of the church, may worship a basketball team, a NASCAR driver, or a movie star. The narcissistic believe they are larger and more important than others and worship an inflated ego with no relationship to reality. We all look for meaning; it’s just that a lot of us attempt to find meaning in the wrong places and end up restless and disappointed. Augustine, writing 17 centuries ago, said our hearts are restless until they come to rest in God.[1]
Why church?
Today, we continue to ponder “Why Church?” Church should be the place we learn who’s worthy of worship. It’s also an outlet for such worship. Here, we should encounter the living God and find satisfaction to our desires.
Our scripture for this morning, Isaiah’s call, is an example of what should happen in worship. In this passage, Isaiah encounters God in all his holiness and majesty. This occurs the same year that King Uzziah died. Such reference provides a timetable for the vision, but also contrasts the transient nature of earthly kings and powers to the eternal nature of the King to whom our allegiance belongs. Uzziah is dead, his throne empty. But Isaiah witnesses a greater throne and king.[2]
Setting Isaiah up to hear his call
We’d think Isaiah would be overwhelmed and overjoyed to see God, wouldn’t we?[3] Isaiah, however, realizes he has a problem. He sees the real King and prevailing wisdom has it that for a mortal to see God brings certain death. Our sinful state leaves us vulnerable before God’s holiness. Isaiah knows he’s in deep sneakers as he cries, “Woe is me; I am lost, I am a man of unclean lips and I live among a people of unclean lips and I have seen the King, the Lord of Hosts.” In other words, because of his condition, Isaiah cannot join the song of praise to God.[4]
But all is not lost. One of the seraphs before the throne takes a coal from the altar, flies down and presses it to Isaiah’s lips, proclaiming that his sins are forgiven. At this point, Isaiah can now hear the call of God, asking who will go and take a message to the people, and Isaiah pipes up and says, “Here I am, Lord, send me.”
A call is not necessarily a good thing
It all sounds good, doesn’t it? That is, until we read the rest of this chapter. Starting in verse 9, we realize the job for which Isaiah volunteered wasn’t a coveted one. His words are to harden the hearts of his people as he speaks judgement. This forces Isaiah to ask, “How long?” How long will Israel’s heart be hardened? How long will the people be punished? Isaiah asks.[5] The answer isn’t hopeful: Till the cities become desolate and the land empty. Even if a piece of it survives, we’re told in verse 13, it will be burned again.
We find hope only at the very end of the chapter. God condemns his people, keeps them from repenting by hardening their hearts, but there is hope that a sprout may rise from the stump.[6]
Be careful about what you ask
I’ve known people who have wanted a sign from God to help their belief. “If I could only have a sign?” You might have even said this. Be careful about what we ask. Those who receive the best signs in Scripture are those from whom God asks the most. God doesn’t give signs so we can believe. Such a sign would make faith lame. Instead, the good signs—like the burning bush, Isaiah’s call, Paul’s conversion—all come with difficult assignments.
We can also think about Peter’s call from Jesus himself by the lake.[7] Jesus clarifies it later, informing him when he was young, he went where he wanted, but when he is old, he’ll be taken where he does not want to go, indicating the kind of death in his future.[8] One thing we should realize: Authentic worship isn’t about us; it’s about God. Ultimately, it isn’t about how we feel or what we want, but what God wants us to do.
Lessons from Isaiah being in God’s presence
What can we learn about coming into God’s presence and worship from Isaiah? First, we see that true worship, worship which encounters the holy, is dangerous. When we truly worship in the presence of the Almighty, we play with dynamite! There’s a power greater than ourselves, and if we tap into it, we will have little control over where it will lead. It’s a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God, we read in Hebrews.[9] But with the disciples, we must acknowledge, “Where else can we go to find the words of eternal life.”[10] So we stick around, even though it can be scary.
Like Isaiah, we find that worship is also redemptive. Where else can we go to find forgiveness, to be offered a new chance, to have our guilt erased and set free to start over? And then, like Isaiah, we find that not only are we forgiven, but we’re now open to hear God’s word, so that we can hear the Almighty call us to fulfill God’s purpose in our lives.
Purpose of worship
Ultimately, worship is to be life changing. Coming into the presence of God does that! The sanctuary, or wherever we worship, isn’t an escape from the world, but a place to equip us to go back into the world to fulfill our roles as disciples of the living Lord.
Understand that worship is something that needs to be done throughout the week. We’re to worship God throughout our lives. But it also important that we come together as a community to worship. As Jesus says, “Wherever two or three are gathered in my name, I will be there.”[11]
The Cycle of Reformed Worship
Think about what we do here and how it relates to Isaiah’s experience. We come into God’s presence, we realize God’s holiness and our lack of it, and we are forgiven and then sent back into the world to further God’s work. That’s the cycle that goes on Sunday after Sunday in a Reformed service of worship. The Call to Worship and the Opening Hymn of Praise reminds us that this a sacred place and time. The prayers of confession, both those spoke corporately and privately, remind us that we need forgiveness. Corporately, we’re reminded that as a people, we are guilty. The private prayers of confession spoken to God silently in our hearts, remind us that as individuals, we are also guilty. The Assurance of Pardon reminds us of the forgiveness offered through Jesus Christ, that frees us up to hear God’s word and to go back out into the world.
I know some churches don’t use a time of confession, but they miss the meat of the gospel.[12] We stand in need of forgiveness and through Jesus Christ, God stands willing to offer forgiveness.
Making the most of worship
How might we make the most out of our time for worship on Sunday morning? First, begin your preparation for worship early. Go to bed at a reasonable hour on Saturday night so that you are well rested. The Jews begin their Sabbath at sundown, which would not be a bad habit for us Christians. Prepare for Sunday morning on Saturday. You could set out clothes to wear or prepare food for the Lord’s Day. Put your Bible (and your journal if you use one) next to your clothes to bring to worship. This will assure that Sunday mornings are not hectic. Then, when you wake up, you can easily get ready for worship and perhaps even have some time to go to God in prayer. And pray for our worship. I can’t imagine the blessings we would experience if everyone took the time before coming to church to pray for the experience!
Next, when you come to worship, come with a holy expectancy. Come, expecting that you will encounter God. Now, not every Sunday is a mountaintop experience.[13] In fact, few are going to be mountaintop experiences and if we strive for that, we’re probably focusing on what we want and not what God wants. But that said, if we don’t expect anything out of worship, we’re probably not going to receiving anything. What would happen if just a few of you came expecting God to show up? It could be dangerous; it could be glorious!
Next, arrive early. Here, do as I say not as I’ve been known to do. When I am not preaching, I’m not known for arriving too early (you can ask my wife or daughter). They call it Garrison time. But if you are here five, ten or fifteen minutes early, you have time to focus on God, to calm your hearts, and to put away distractions. Spend this time making a mental note of that which to thank God or of the deeds you stand in need of confessing.
Pray for the worship experience
Look around and see people who are in need and offer intercessory prayer. Pray for the preacher (I need all the help I can get). Pray for those who might be new in our fellowship. Pray for those not here. Read through the bulletin, internalizing the prayers so that they can become your prayers. Look over the scriptures so that you might receive more out of the sermon or get more out of the prayers.
While in a worship service
While in worship, learn to absorb distractions. We’re all human here. I am going to make some mistakes. Others are also going to make mistakes. God doesn’t use perfect people. Instead of fussing and fuming over such mistakes, pray silently that we might get over it, that God might bless such blunders and use them for his glory. As Paul tells the Corinthians, God uses the cross which is foolishness to the world to bring about salvation.[14] Focus your energy on what is positive, not on what can be negative and destructive. Embrace worship as a sacrifice, as your sacrifice, to God. Remember, what happens here “isn’t about you!” It’s about God! Keep focused on that which is important.
And finally, when you leave worship, go out to live your life as an heir to the kingdom, listening and obeying God’s word, and continuing to worship throughout the week. In so doing, your whole life will be more worshipful, and you’ll continually praise God.
Conclusion
We’re all to be worshippers. In worship, our restlessness finds peace in the heart of God. In worship, we move from the position of the guilty one, “Woe is me!” to the response of a confident disciple, “Here I am, Lord. Send me.” Amen.
[12] There are many things that the church does which can be done just as well by other groups. What makes the church unique is the message of forgiveness through Christ which he shares through the church.
[13] Even the disciples found that they couldn’t stay on the mountaintop. Life is to be lived in the valleys and on the plains, where people are at. See Matthew 17:1-13, Mark 9:2-8 and Luke 9:28-36.
This piece was originally posted in another blog in 2011. I reworked it and reposted it.
A butt-naked boy ran through the crowd. This is the first thing I see as I step into the country, immediately after having my passport stamped. And he wasn’t just a boy, certainly no toddler. He was at least five feet tall and probably 11 or 12 years old. I do not know what was up with him. Thankfully I never saw another kid his age running around in his birthday suit, but he served as a shocking reminder (along with having to learn a new currency and the words for rice and noodles) that I was in another country. Cambodia!
I’d wanted to see Cambodia since a teenager. As a ham radio operator, I remember reading an article in QST (or maybe it was CQ, both amateur radio magazines in the early 1970s) of a trip made to American ham operator to Cambodia. Before the Khmer Rouge, he met with a few of the operators in the country. The article had photos of the country’s temples. It all looked exotic. A few years later, as the war in Southeast Asia intensified and then came to a horrific conclusion in Cambodia, I wondered what happened to the few amateur radio operators in the country. I’d also heard of some of the temples being destroyed. Now is my chance to find the answer to at least one of my questions.
I was catching the train to the border at Bangkok’s Makkasan Station at 6:20 AM. The train starts at the downtown station at 5:50 AM, but since my hotel was closer to Makkasan, I decided sleep an extra half-hour. But for a while this morning, I wondered if this had been a good idea. I’d asked for a 4:30 AM wake-up call (it came at 5:15, as I was leaving my room).
Leaving the hotel, I venture out into the darkness and (as the Skyway isn’t running yet) meet the cabthe hotel had called. The driver spoke little English. I showed him where I wanted to go. He agreed and suggested what I assumed was a fair price. I tossed by backpacks into the backseat and climbed in.
Two blocks later, something strange happened. A policeman stood in the middle of the road with a blue lighted pointer, indicating for the cab to pull over to the curb. Two other policemen with flashlights shining came over and asked the driver questions as they shined lights into the back of the cab and onto my face and bags. They opened the back door. Pointing at me, he asked in rough English, “where?” Assuming this was where I was heading, I said Cambodia. He looked at me for a moment then, gesturing as if he’s smoking, appeared to ask for cigarettes. I shook my head and said ‘I do not smoke. “Okay,” he said, and waved us on. I had the feeling these Thai policemen wanted to shake me down for a smoke!
Inside the train
My next hurdle was getting to the right station. It turns out there are two Makkasan stations, one for the railroad and one a high-speed rail line only runs to the airport. It was this station that the cab driver insisted must be mine. Having been to the train station to purchase my ticket, I knew it was not the right place. Finally, a Thai man who heard me talking came over and asked in English where I was going. He then gave directions to the cab driver. There were only two dozen or so passengers at Makkasan station, so the cab drivers confusion was justified.
I purchased my ticket for the border a few days earlier. It cost 48 bahts or about $ 1.50. The only option is a non-air-conditioned third-class train for the five-hour trip. At least, early in the morning, the air was damp but cool.
On the station platform, I spot several old steam engines in a yard across the tracks. I walk over to check them out and to see if I could catch photographs. A guard stops me, saying “No photos.” I have no idea why, but it isn’t bright enough yet to get a good photo. On the train, I snap a few photos of the old engines, but with the low light, the photos don’t turn out well. After walking around a bit with my pack, I sat down on the platform to wait for the train. It was still 15 minutes away.
Thai train station with station master in uniform
While waiting, a Thai woman came up and began to talk to me. Her name is Niranya. She’s a travel agent whose customers are primarily Indian, so she speaks to them in English. She was heading back to her family home near the Cambodian border where she had to attend to some business. We talked until the train arrived, then sat by each other on the train. She was getting off the stop before me. Traveling with her is enlightening. Having grown up on a farm, she shares about the various crops grown along with showing where fields are being converted from rice and other food crops to fast growing trees used for pulp. These trees harmed the land because they used so much water. Much of the land in eastern Thailand is dependent on the rainy season for water as there is not enough for irrigation. Such trees, she complain, steals water which could be used to grow rice. But the high demand tempts farmers to plant such trees that require less work than keeping up rice paddies. Another crop that is in demand is tapioca, which also tends to rob the soil of nutrients.
Passing a local train
I’m amazed at the number of rail lines running into Bangkok from the east. At places, as many as eight set of tracks parallel each other as they run into the city. As it was early morning, the trains coming in were all packed with passengers.
Our train, heading the opposite direction, slowly filled. This was a slow train and we stopped at every station, where an agent would step out dressed like a general or war hero, to meet us. We also stopped at other places requested by passengers. At one of these “nowhere places,” a woman stepped off the train and stepped into the jungle, disappearing as she headed to her home as the train moved on. After a while, we were well into the country. After passing Chachoengsao Junction and Khlong Sipkao Junction, where lines split off heading north and south, we were on a single-track line running through a flat countryside, occasionally pulling over to sidings to wait for east bound trains to pass.
Backpackers getting off the train
As the sun rose higher in the sky, the car became warm, and everyone began to sleep. There was little movement, only the occasional seller passing by with drinks and snacks. At one stop, a bunch of women boarded at one town, coming from the market. They’d taken an earlier train into town and were heading back with baskets of produce and stables like cooking oil. The train was so crowded that there weren’t enough places for people to sit. I offered my seat to a couple of the older women, thinking that standing a bit wouldn’t do me any harm. They refused, but my act of kindness caught the attention of one of the women, who looked to be in her 30s. She asked Niranya, whom she’d seen talking to me, if she was my wife. Of course, I didn’t know what had been said. Niranya laughed, and told her no, that we’d just met that morning while waiting on the train. The woman then asked Niranya if I was available! She said she told her that I was married. This led into a conversation about how Thai women seek out American and Western husbands as a way of escaping the hard life, especially smaller villages. I had certainly seen many Western men with Thai women, generally women that were half their age.
The women coming from the market only rode for about 30 minutes before getting off at a small village. Niranya got off Watthana Nakhon. By then, the train had mostly cleared except for those of us heading to the border. The train was mainly filled with tourist and Cambodians returning home, such as a man who sat across from us and had drank at least a six-pack of beer during the trip that ended around noon! He was coming back home after having surgery done on his nose in Bangkok. The train pulled into Aranyaprathet, at the end of the line, a little after noon, about 30 minutes late. As there are at most places, there were a host of tuk-tuk drivers wanting to take us to the border. The prices quoted was what I was expecting and soon I was whisked away toward the border, feeling like I was in a chariot race with each driver vying to get their passenger there first. The drivers also tried to encourage us to book rooms through them in Siem Reap (they all seemed to have a cousin or brother there), but I’d already had my reservations made.
Tuk tuks waiting customers
Crossing over the border
The border crossing was hassle free (except for seeing more than I’d wanted to see). I had lunch (rice and ginger chicken) and then got on the bus for Siem Reap. The Cambodian countryside appears as flat as a pancake. The occasional hill seems out of place. These are called Phnom (as in Phnom Penh), which is named for the hill upon which it sits. I am surprised by the large sizes of the fields. The road is now modern (a few years ago, I heard this was a rode that would jar the fillings out of one’s teeth) and we moved along in air-conditioned comfort. We stopped once, for a bathroom break and to let the engine cool (while waiting the driver sprayed water on the overheated engine!). The bus needed more fuel and the driver pulled up to a garage looking place and they brought out two 5-gallon jerry cans and dumped them into the fuel tank. From the bus station was on the edge of Siem Reap and I hired a driver to take me to the Golden Banana, where I had reservations for three nights. After seeing the Cambodian countryside, the modern style of Siem Reap appears out of place. In the evening, I head into town and have red curry for dinner. Then, it’s off to bed. I plan to get up early to see the sunrise at Angkor Wat.
Jeff Garrison Bluemont and Mayberry Churches March 27, 2022 Luke 9:51-61
Sermon recorded at Bluemont Church on Friday, March 25, 2022
At the beginning of worship
As we continue our Lenten theme of “Why Church?” consider the role of church to reorient our lives.
Back in the 1980s, Neal Postman wrote a classic book titled, Amusing Ourselves to Death. Even before the rise of 24/7 news programs and the internet for everyone, Postman understood that we are drowning in information.[1] And it’s gotten worse. All this noise that surrounds us, challenges and confuses. It competes for our attention. Sadly, church only provides an hour or two a week counterpoint. Here, we point people to Jesus Christ. He’s the the one person to whom we should give our attention, not the soundbites that surround our lives.
Before the reading of the Scripture:
“We do well to remember that the Bible has far more to say about how to live during the journey than about the ultimate destination.”[2] Our passage today comes at a turning point in Luke’s gospel.
Jesus begins to wrap up his ministry in Galilee and for the journey toward Jerusalem. Luke uses this travel narrative as a unifying theme for the middle section of his gospel.[3] Jesus doesn’t arrive in Jerusalem for another ten chapters. During this meandering journey, there are lots of opportunity for Jesus to teach the disciples. Today, we’ll look at one such lesson of how we’re to live during our journeys.
High points and rejections in the gospel:
Earlier in this chapter, Jesus with the handful of the disciples experienced the “Transfiguration.”[4] It’s a high point of the gospel, ranking up there with Jesus’ baptism.[5] Interestingly, Luke follows both these “high points” with a story of rejection.[6]Jesus’ ministry began with his baptism followed by forty days of temptation. Then, he experienced rejection by his hometown.[7]
Now, following the transfiguration, where three disciples see Jesus in his full glory, the rejection comes from a Samaritan village. Jesus uses this rejection to teach the hardship of discipleship. Are we willing to risk rejection to be a disciple? Think seriously about that question as I read this passage.
When hiking the Appalachian Trail, I headed into Gorham, New Hampshire for the evening. It’s a small town near the Maine border. I needed to resupply for the next section of trail. I was down to only oatmeal in my food bag and didn’t have enough fuel for my stove to even prepare that.
On my hike I carried with me a multi-fuel stove that could burn regular gasoline. The benefit of such a stove is that I didn’t have to buy gallon containers of white gas at a hardware store, of which I’d only need a liter. It saved me on gas. I’d only spend a quarter or maybe 30 cents to fill up my bottle. Gasoline was a lot cheaper than Coleman fuel, and both fuels were cheaper back then.
So, I stopped at a local Exxon station on the edge of town, leaned my pack against the pump, and pulled out my fuel bottle. As I reached for the nozzle, the cashier ran out of the store yelling obscenities and telling me I couldn’t fill up my bottle.
“Why,” I asked?
“You might spill gas.”
“I’ll be careful. I haven’t yet spilled any and have filled this bottle at least a dozen times.”
“We don’t allow it,” she said.
I was mad.
“It’s a good thing I’m not driving,” I told her, “I’d run out of gas before I filled up at your station.”
Looking back, even without gasoline, I was able to throw some gas onto what was becoming a metaphorical fire. She cursed me and said she wished all us hikers would go back to where we came. In response, I pulled out my journal, wrote down the name of the station, and asked her for its address. I promised to send letters to the Chamber of Commerce and to Exxon Corporate Headquarters. She had a few more choice words for me as I walked down the street and filled up my fuel bottle at the next station.
Having been rejected, I found myself steaming. The next morning, as I left town and hiked north, I crafted letters in my head. Then I realized the negative energy I put into the situation. I let it go. I never sent those letters.
What would Jesus do?
Had Jesus been among us hikers, I think he’d told me to do just that. Drop it. Harboring such feelings is never good. It eats at your soul. We cannot control how other people react to us; we can only control how we react toward them.
Jesus heads toward Jerusalem
Jesus now heads toward Jerusalem, taking the disciples with him. The text says he “sets his face” toward Jerusalem, a phrase echoed throughout the next ten chapters. On this journey, we learn things not mentioned in the other three gospels. Jesus is not just walking; he’s teaching and healing.[8]
If Jesus had a GPS and set the destination for Jerusalem, the machine would have been constantly squawking “recalculating, recalculating” as he wanders around. It’s in this wandering we find some of our most beloved parables, such as the Good Samaritan and the Prodigal Son. Along the way, Jesus stops and teaches people about who God is and how they should relate to their neighbors.
Those not wanting to see Jesus
But not everyone wants to see Jesus. Luke informs us that the Samaritans don’t want anything to do with Jesus because he has sent his face toward Jerusalem. The Samaritans, who don’t see Jerusalem as holy and who worship on another mountain, have grown weary of self-righteous Jews trampling through their land on their way to Jerusalem.[9] They’re just like the gas station attendant, who was tired of hikers coming through her town. In Biblical times, many Jews from Galilee would take the longer away around Samaria to avoid such encounters.
Hotheaded response of the disciples
Kind of like me going into that New Hampshire village to resupply, the disciples try to arrange food and lodging for their journey. They become upset with the reaction they receive. “Let’s nuke ‘em!” “Let’s blow them to smithereens!” “Let’s get her in trouble with her boss, or the corporation.” Ever hear people talk about enemies like that?
Two of the disciples, James and John, whom Jesus nicknamed “Sons of Thunder,”[10] ask Jesus if he wants them to do away with this village… “You know, Jesus, just a little fire from heaven. It’ll melt their hearts.”
Today, many of us have probably thought similar things about Putin and Russia. And we should think about this in regard those whom we perceive as political enemies. Like the disciples, we have thin skin. Jesus doesn’t take rejection personally and encourages the disciples to get over it. After all, scripture clearly states that vengeance isn’t ours![11]
The difficulty of discipleship
Yet, there are also those wanting to join Jesus on this journey. We’re not told if Jesus turns them away, but he certainly used no ad agency to sell his trip. “I have no place to lay my head,” he says. The Message translation here has Jesus saying, “we’re not staying at the best inns, you know.”
Following Jesus isn’t easy. Jesus makes a demand on our lives. “Are you ready to follow me,” Jesus asks? “If you want to follow me, I have to be first and foremost in your lives,” he says. “Nothing can come before me!”
Do we put things before Christ? Think about your life and what you value. Are you willing to give it all up for Jesus? Is Jesus at the center of your life? Is he what’s most important?
The two parts of this passage
Tension exists between the first and second parts of this passage. In the first part, we’re told not to be so zealous that we forget the mission. Jesus came to save, not to destroy. The desire for revenge or violence toward our enemies goes counter to Jesus’ teaching.[12] In the second half of the passage, Jesus reminds us that following him is tough. Yet, if we decide to follow, Jesus demands our total allegiance. We can’t jump halfway in, it’s all or nothing.
Today’s meaning
What does this passage say to us today? One thing we can gleam: If we want to be a follower of Jesus, we must be willing to stand up against the contempt that is so prevalent in our society today.[13] Jesus didn’t allow the disciples to have contempt toward the Samaritans, and I don’t think he’s happy about how we treat others.
The problem of contempt
Contempt for others is a human problem. Certainly, in recent years, it’s grown like a wildfire in our national politics. Adhominem attacks are tossed around like grenades. We become more interested in sound bites than logic and fail to realize such grenades contain a basic fallacy.
Ad hominem means “against the man.” Such a fallacy occurs when, instead of attacking an issue, one belittles or dehumanizes the person on the other side of an argument. I don’t think Jesus appreciates this, which is one of the reasons I think he tells us to pray for our enemies.[14] When you pray seriously for others, they don’t remain enemies and we certainly can’t hold them in contempt.
Wishing others would go away
Just think about this. When we hear something we agree with, we jump on the bandwagon without thinking. It then becomes easy for us to let our contempt rule. “Let’s call down some fire from heaven.” Sounds good, doesn’t it? It has gotten so easy to wish those we don’t like would disappear or go away.
We not only see this tendency in our national politics, but locally… And it happens within churches, between friends, and even within members of a family. When we know we’re right and assume others are not only wrong but also evil or stupid, we quickly slide into thinking we’d be better off without them. We show contempt. We’re like James and John in our story today.
Sadly, it’s easy to mouth off. And our words risk creating a larger divide between us and the other. But the Christian faith isn’t about creating divisions. It’s about bringing people together. It’s about standing up for others, even those we may not agree with. It’s about not spouting off at the mouth. It’s about thinking before we speak. When we come to church, we need to be reminded that our actions matter.
Conclusion
Today, I think back to that encounter so many years ago in Gorham, New Hampshire. I wonder what would have happened if I had gone back to that cashier at the Exxon station and apologized. I wouldn’t have to say she was right, but I could have acknowledged my response and my thoughts about her were misguided. As humans, we can’t be responsible for what someone else does. We can only be responsible for what we do and how we react.
Consider what this all might do with our need for church. When we come here, we’re reminded that our thoughts, desires, and feelings are not what’s most important. Instead, what matters is following our Savior. If we only look out for ourselves, we will lose the path Jesus sets before us. Amen.
[1] The future danger was not slavery in the form of totalitarianism (as in George Orwell’s 1984, but a slavery to our amusement (as in Aldous Huxley’s Brave New World). See Neal Postman, Amusing Ourselves to Death. (NY: Viking, 1985).
[2]This quote came from a Facebook Meme posted by the Clergy Coaching Network and attributed to Philip Yancey.
[3] See Fred B. Craddock, Luke: Interpretation: A Biblical Commentary for Teaching and Preaching (Louisville: John Knox Press, 1990), 139-142.
[8] For a discussion on Jesus heading to Jerusalem but not making progress, see James R. Edwards, The Gospel of Luke (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2015), 294, n. 4.
[9] Norval Geldenhuys, The New International Commentary on the New Testament: Gospel of Luke (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1982), 292-3. For the difference in worship between Jews and Samaritans, see John 4:19-20.
It looks like we’ll have a baseball season this year. Why are there so many good baseball books? I don’t know of any other sport who produces as many good writers as baseball. In anticipation of the season, I listened to Robert Creamer’s Baseball in ’41, which I’m reviewing below. I’m also attaching a review of another baseball book I read several years ago by the famed Presidential historian, Doris Kearns Goodwin. And, for those who want to ponder baseball and religion, here’s a link to my review of Baseball as a Road to God, written by John Sexton.
Robert W. Creamer, Baseball in ’41: A Celebration of the Best Baseball Season Ever in the Year America Went to War
(1991: Audible 2005) Read by Tom Parker. 8 hours 46 minutes.
This book is part memoir, part baseball history, and part history of America on the eve of World War II. The author, Robert Creamer, was a nineteenth-year college student between his two “first years” of college (he admits having to redo his freshman year). While war talk is in the air, the great advances of the German army of ’39 and ’40 seemed stalled after they had conquered Western Europe. That would change late in the summer when German attacked the Soviet Union. America was trying to stay neutral while arming Great Britain. And it was the year that a young Ted Williams hit .406 and Joe DiMaggio hit in 56 concessive games.
The draft of young men for the military resumed. Draftees had a year enlistment. Some in baseball made the case for those drafted (it wasn’t a large draft in ’41), to join so that they would only miss one season instead of straddling two seasons. The draft included one of baseball’s all-time great players, Detroit’s Hank Greenburg. He entered the military with much fanfare and missed the season. At the end of the year, he had fulfilled his commitment and released from duty two days before Pearl Harbor. He would rejoin the military two days later. Greenburg missed four and a half seasons at the peak of his career, which probably is why he is not as well-known as other players of the era or before.
While no one was sure when the United States would join the war, many felt it just a matter of time. This summer, one major league game paused as President Roosevelt addressed the nation about the need to be prepared. His address played over the stadium’s PA system, after which the game resumed. Of course, the next year things would change after Pearl Harbor. Many of baseball greats either joined or found themselves drafted into the military. ’41 was the last year in which the majors consisted of most of its big names. Even Williams and DiMaggio went off to war.
In 1941, the Yankees redeemed themselves from their failure of the year before. They faced some challenges early in the season, especially from Cleveland and their ace, Bobbie Feller (later known as Bob Feller). But the Yankees won the pennant earlier than ever. Instead, the America League excitement came from Williams and DiMaggio’s hitting. In the National League, the St. Louis Cardinals and the Brooklyn Dodgers remained in a head-to-head race throughout the season. The National League pennant was decided in the closing days of the season. St. Louis with their extensive farm teams could call up new players when others were hurt, something they dealt with a lot in ’41. Leo Durocher’s Dodgers, a historically second division team (the bottom 4 teams of an 8-team league), were finally playing well and no longer worthy of their nickname, “the bums.” However, in the World Series, the Yankees easily beat the Dodgers in five games.
As he weaves in throughout the book, 1941 was not only a season of change for baseball. The author went through a change as his older brother signed up for the Army Air Corp. The next year, he, too, would be in the military. He would later become a correspondent for Sport’s Illustrated and go on to write many baseball books including biographies of Babe Ruth and Casey Stengel. Creamer claimed to be a Yankee fan in ’41, and it seems that his interest in baseball continued to follow that path.
Detroit, 2010
Doris Kearns Goodwin, Wait Till Next Year: A Memoir
(New York: Simon & Schuster, 1997), 261 pages, some photos.
Goodwin, a renowned historian and author of many presidential biographies, recalls her childhood fascination with the Brooklyn Dodgers in this delightful memoir. The Dodgers were referred to as bums, as it seemed they would never win a World Series. In the forties and fifties, they were a National League powerhouse, often winning the pennant, but losing in the Series. They were “always the bridesmaid, never the bride.” Against this backdrop is a young girl whose father taught her how to keep score. As she became better at scoring, she would listen to the afternoon game and then retell the events of the game to her father when he came home from his job as a bank examiner. She credits baseball with making her a historian and storyteller as she learns to build suspense in recalling the events of the game.
As Goodwin recalls each season in which the Dodgers disappoint them again, she shares memories of growing up in her Brooklyn neighborhood as well as events happening in the country and around the world. She lived by two calendars: one from church and the other from baseball. She tells many humorous stories such as making her confession before her first communion. It has been impressed upon her how serious this is and to think hard about her sins. She realizes she has been wishing bad things upon others, such as wanting a certain Yankee player to break an arm or a Phillies ball player to experience some other kind of misfortune. As she confesses, the priest’s giggles and admits that he too is a Dodger fan. Then, he uses the occasion to teach a lesson, asking how she’d feel if the only way the Dodgers win the Series is that all the other players are injured. Another story involved Old Mary, who lived in a dilapidated house. The neighborhood children were sure she was a witch and set out spying on her. When Goodwin’s mother learns of how they have been treating Mary, she takes her daughter down to meet the old woman who was from the Ukraine and had learned only broken English. A few months after meeting this nice but lonely woman, she dies.
Goodwin enjoyed school, especially literature and geography. She even had a teacher who required them to learn the main towns along the Trans-Siberia, Trans-Mongolian, and Trans-Manchurian railroads, along with the Baikula-Amur line. However, I’m not so sure about the Baikula-Amur line, a Siberian railway that runs north of Lake Baikal, as most of the work on it was twenty-plus years after Goodwin had finished school.
In addition to what was happening locally, Goodwin reflects on the national events. The fifties were the waning years of segregation, and she pays attention to the events at Little Rock. She ponders over the Rosenberg’s children after their execution and worries over the Soviet’s exploding an atomic bomb. She goes out and searches for the first satellite launched by the Soviets. All this is recalled as Goodwin recaps each season. The book comes to a climax in 1956, when the Dodger’s beats the Yankees for their first World Series win. She and her parents celebrated in downtown Brooklyn. But with the win comes losses. Goodwin’s childhood friend moves away, a trend that will happen repeatedly with the affluence of the 50s. She becomes interested in boys. Then her mother dies and her father, who is heartbroken, decides to sell the only house she’s ever known. Then the final straw breaks in 1957, as the Brooklyn Dodgers (along with the hated Giants) announce they will relocate to the West Coast. The magic of childhood has passed her by.
In the Epilogue, Goodwin writes about how she again fell in love with baseball as a graduate student at Harvard. This time it was with the Boston Red Sox, a team who (at the time of the writing of her memoir) was a lot like the old Dodgers. Although they often had good teams, they were unable to win the Series. Goodwin, like her father before her, has the pleasure to introduce her children to the magic of the game. Goodwin is a wonderful storyteller and has an eye for history (with perhaps the exception of Russian railroads). I enjoyed this read
Jeff Garrison Bluemont and Mayberry Presbyterian Churches March 20, 2022 Luke 10:25-37
Sermon recorded on Friday, March 18 at Mayberry Church
Thoughts at the beginning of worship:
We’re continuing with our Lenten theme, “Why Church?” Our world can be cruel. But that shouldn’t be the church. We’re to show an alternative to the world.[1] We’re to be a place and a people who care for others. And because we know the church is far more than just what goes on inside these walls an hour on Sunday morning, we are reminded to care not just here, but wherever we find ourselves. How can we care for one another, for our neighbors, and for the world?
Before reading the Scriptures:
The Good Samaritan is one of the best known and most loved parts of scripture. We have Jesus answering the questions of a lawyer. This isn’t a lawyer like we think, but one who studies God’s law. In other words, he’s a theologian. That should let the lawyers off the hook a bit; after all, they find themselves at the blunt of enough jokes. This lawyer/theologian begins by asking Jesus a question about eternal life. Jesus asks him what the law says, and he answers with the great commandment. Love God and neighbor.
Jesus agrees. But the lawyer continues, asking for clarification. This provides an opportunity for Jesus to tell a story. As Luke recalls Jesus’ teachings in this section, he points out that our relationships to neighbors, to Jesus, and to God are all important.[2]
Come on Jesus! You were asked a direct question. “Who is my neighbor?” There can’t be a better way to muddy the waters about neighbors than to tell a story about a journey. It’s hard enough to know our neighbor when we deal with those living close by. But when we travel?
Traveling
When we travel, we often don’t want to be bothered? Think of how things are designed to insure our comfort and privacy? We drive in enclosed cars on freeways that keep us from facing other vehicles, with easy access ramps to and from the highways which helps us avoid hassles. At the exits we find drive-through restaurants where we talk to a machine along with gas pumps where we swipe a card and never talk to an attendant. Our whole system of highway transportation has evolved to isolate us from one another.
So, who is our neighbor? How do we know a neighbor when traveling? How about closer to home. Are those in the next hollow our neighbor? Who are our neighbors in the United States? In the world? What about Russia or North Korea or Cuba? This question is problematic. How many billion people are they in the world? They can’t all be my neighbor, can they? We must admit that Jesus’ answer to the lawyer’s question doesn’t make our quest for eternal life any easier.
Putting it into context: The Good Samaritan doesn’t stand alone
To understand this passage, realize that the parable of the Good Samaritan, like much of scripture, doesn’t stand alone! It’s a part of a longer conversation between Jesus and a lawyer. Like lawyers of our day, this dude tries to trap Jesus. He asks: “What must I do to inherit eternal life?” In a way, the question is flawed. How can we do anything to inherit. Inheritance is a gift; we don’t work for it.[3] Eternal life comes through grace, but back to the dialogue…
Jesus responds with a question of his own. “What do the scriptures say?” The man answers, quotes from the Torah, the books of Deuteronomy and Leviticus, telling Jesus that one must “love God with all your heart, soul, strength and mind,” and one must love your neighbor as yourself.[4]
Who is our neighbor?
“You got it,” Jesus responds. Do this and live.” Perhaps the lawyer hopes to trap Jesus as he asks a follow-up question. “Who is my neighbor?” However, the question naturally arises from such a command. The Jewish rabbis of the day had generally interpreted one’s neighbor in restricted ways. They did not have the benefit of Mr. Rogers encouraging us all to be good neighbors. Instead, “neighbors” were generally understood to be pure blooded Jews.[5] Others, like the half-bred Samaritans, could be ignored.
The lawyer’s probably thinking, “If I only have to love those like myself, I’ve got it made! The boarding pass for the heaven express is in the mail.” And then Jesus tricks him into realizing those low-down dirty Samaritans who live across the tracks are neighbors. Our passage starts with the lawyer trying to trap Jesus, now we see that Jesus laid a trap for him. Upon hearing the story, the lawyer is forced to admit that the Samaritan is the good guy.
Nouns and verbs
Interestingly, the man’s question speaks about a neighbor as a noun (a person, place of thing). Jesus responds, not with a noun, but with the verb form of a neighbor. A neighbor becomes an action, one who shows mercy. Being neighborly isn’t because of location; it’s something we do.[6]
Story told with contemporary enemies:
Jesus ends the conversation with the command to go and do likewise. Pretty tough words! “Go and do.” Over the centuries this story has become one of the most loved and best-known passages in scripture. But do we realize the force of this command? This is a scandal! If we were to tell this story today, with the force that Jesus told it, the Samaritan would be someone we despised—maybe a Russian soldier or an illegal alien.
Encountering Jesus
In A Generous Orthodoxy, Brian McLaren describes a series of encounters with Jesus that “ruined his life, ruined it for good, in a good kind of way.”[7] In some ways, this is what happens. If the lawyer listens, this encounter will change his life radically. I don’t think he’s that interested in being changed, but it happens.
I vividly remember back when I was in seminary in Pittsburgh. I’d been hired, sight unseen, to assist at a church in Butler, a town to the north. In the phone interview, they sold me on Butler as a quaint little town that’s a pleasant drive through the countryside, just 30 miles up Route 8.” Little did I know that in the 30 miles from the seminary to the church were 48 stop lights! I counted them on my second trip.
I was always in a rush on Sunday mornings as I had to be there early to teach Youth Sunday School. One Sunday I was running a little later than usual, and I passed a family whose car was broken down on the highway. Do you think I stopped? No, I would have been late and who knows what those kids I taught would have gotten into. But I felt guilty afterwards—especially as I pondered this passage. I played the role of the priest rushing to Jerusalem to lead a service in the temple, except that in the story, the priest is heading away from Jerusalem. He can’t use his work as an excuse.[8]
An impossible commandment?
This story stands as an impossible commandment. Yet, at the same time, it’s an imperative we follow it. You might say in taking this story seriously, we’re placed between a rock and a hard place! We cannot be neighbors to everyone; we cannot always act like the Samaritan to all the people we come contact with in this world. Only God can do that, right? Thankfully, there is forgiveness and grace.
An allegory
Let me suggest another way to draw ourselves into this story. Instead of trying to see ourselves as the Samaritan (or even the priest or Levite), let’s place ourselves in the ditch beside the road. We’ve been robbed and beaten. We lie helpless. The Samaritan who stops is Jesus. In some ways Jesus was a like the Samaritans. Persecuted, the “religious Jews” looked down on him. And Jesus paid out more than required for our wounds—giving his life for our sins.
So, Jesus picks us up out of the ditch, bandages our wounds, restores our soul, makes sure we are on the way to recovery, and arranges to continue care for us. By the way, the church now plays the role of the innkeeper. Once we have been nursed back to health, Jesus pats us on the back and tells us, “Go and do the same.”
Understanding this passage this way, as an allegory, summarizes the gospel. Jesus shows great mercy to us and expects us to do the same to our sisters and brothers in this world. Such interpretation of the passage is ancient, as early as the second century.[9] But even as an allegory, it comes back to what we do.
The desire for eternal life
It’s interesting that this story is a part of the extended answer to the question, “what must I do to receive eternal life.” In answering this question, Jesus quickly moves pass the commandments, the theological dogma, and instead Jesus tells a story about our relationship to our neighbors. For Jesus, these relationships are not isolated incidents or theological concepts, but actual encounters with real people who have needs.
If we have been lifted out of the ditch by Jesus, if we have experienced salvation, if we are assured of eternal life, we must go and do likewise, to all our neighbors.
Emphasis on “Go and do”
While I accept the allegory interpretation of this passage as one way to understand it, I also see the danger in such an interpretation. John Calvin, one of the founders of our theological tradition, questioned the allegory interpretation because he felt it diminished our Lord’s command to “Go and do likewise.[10]
Let me interpret this parable in this manner. We must first accept and believe in Jesus Christ and the gift he offers to us (that’s Jesus pulling us out of the ditch). Following our acceptance of salvation, we must then live as the Samaritan, helping others, regardless of how we feel about them.
Conclusion
Like all the folks in the story, we’re all on a journey through life. The question we’re left with is how we go about making this journey. Do we continue to travel down the road with our windows closed and our eyes straight head, the radio up so loud that we can’t hear anyone calling out for help? Or do we slow down and look for opportunities to make a difference in the lives of others? The lawyer asks the question for us, “who is my neighbor?” Jesus turns that question around and asks us, “To whom have you been a neighbor?” How do we answer? Amen.
[1] The Great Ends of the Presbyterian Church USA include the command to “exhibit the kingdom of heaven to the world.” Book of Order, F-1.0304
[2] Following the Good Samaritan in Luke’s Gospel is the story of Mary and Martha (relating to him, then gives the example of the Lord’s Prayer (our relationship to God the Father).
[3] Kenneth E. Bailey, Jesus Through Middle Eastern Eyes: Cultural Studies in the Gospels (Downers Grove, IL: IVP Press, 2008), 286.
[5] Norval Geldenhuys, The Gospel of Luke: he New International Commentary on the New Testament (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1984), 311, 313 n5.
P[6] James R. Edwards, The Gospel According to Luke (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2015), 323..
[7] Brian D. McLaren, A Generous Orthodoxy (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2004 ), 20.
[8] We’re told the priest and Levite were going “down that road.” Jerusalem sat on a hill at 2600 feet. Jericho was below sea level. So going down meant they were leaving their work behind and possibility heading home or to visit realities. See Edwards, 320.
