What’s holding us back?
What’s keeping us from moving?
What’s preventing us from discovering, reaching beyond, and breaking out?
There’s that flash of light.
It’s got our attention, even for a moment.
But it’s only a flash in the middle of the day - so quickly washed away and enveloped in the brighter lights that surround us.
So must it have been for Zacchaeus - that flash of light came to him.
But he did not let it go.
He would not let it go.
He dropped everything to move toward that light, and allow it to envelop him.
So Zacchaeus hurried up a tree.
He hurried down a tree.
He gave half his money to the poor.
He paid back the people he’d ripped off.
Jesus said salvation had come to his house.
Jesus had sent His light - and Zacchaeus let nothing in the world prevent him from finding it.
Jesus is still sending His light.
Every now and then it gets our attention.
It’s a flash in the middle of the day - that can be so quickly washed away.
But its desire is to be so much more.
It wants to envelop us – to fill us so completely with all the things for which we most deeply yearn.
It wants to make all the other lights around us become darkness.
What’s holding us back?
What’s keeping us from moving?
What’s preventing us from discovering, reaching beyond, and breaking out?
Reading:
Reimagining Detroit - John Gallagher
Unbinding the Gospel - Reese
God is Not Great - Hitchens
Lord Have Mercy
It doesn’t take long before the new guy in the office to become the
center of attention. Some people will talk about how handsome he is
or isn’t. Some people will talk about how smart he is or isn’t. Some
people will engage in endless banter on the ties he wears, the lunches
he brings, or the looks he gives the receptionist. We will make
conscious or unconscious comparisons between him and us as we seek to
win the approval of peers – the lower our self-esteem, the more
critical we can be. It is the condemnation of others for the shoring
up of ourselves. It is the foundation and the joy of gossip.
As we all know, our shared tendency to define ourselves by defining
others is as destructive as it is unhealthy. It drives lepers into
colonies and gay teens to suicide - it is at the heart of bullying.
And at the center of this imprudent behavior can be a theological
conviction – that shapes the way we see the world.
In Luke 18 we hear the parable of a proud religious man who goes
into the temple to pray. He says, ‘God I thank you that I am not like
other people; thieves, rogues, adulterers, or even like that tax
collector’ – for in another part of the temple stood a tax man, who
was also praying – but whose prayer contrasted quite starkly with the
religious man’s. All the taxman would say was, ‘God, be merciful to
me, a sinner!’
Jesus uses this story to say that the tax collector, not the
religious man, was in the right. We notice this man who refused to
use comparisons or put downs, or push himself up by beating others
down. Instead he centered his attentions on his own shortcomings and
failings.
As we talked about last week, it’s been said that there are two
types of prayer, ‘help’ and ‘thanks!’ However, here, Jesus reminds us
of a third, which may be more difficult, more important, and not
insignificant to the challenges Christians face today it’s the prayer:
‘Lord, have mercy.’ In a culture cacophonous with judgmental voices,
especially religious ones – we do well to remind ourselves that the
heart of Christianity is a gift – not discovered or improved upon by
our own activities – but by contrite recognition of our own
shortcomings before God. There is no reward in our feelings of
superiority, only in the discovery of God’s inconceivable mercy.
In what ways do we judge, gossip, and seek to put ourselves above
others? Why do we do it? And how can we make the prayer, ‘Lord have
mercy’ – our prayer?
Reading
The Sins of Scripture - John Spong
Reimagining Detroit - John Gallagher
A Stroke of Genius - Jill Bolte Taylor
Prayer
They say there are two kinds of prayer: ‘thank you, thank you, thank you!’ and ‘Oh God, Help!’ The former bursts forth on those rare occasions of unbounded glee, the latter comes out during those hopefully rare moments of white-knuckle peril. When we’re honest with ourselves, many of us don’t spend near enough time between these two extremes doing what Jesus seems to expect from His followers in Luke 18 – that they, ‘pray always and not lose heart.’
Luke, more than any other Gospel writer tells us about prayer – about how we’re supposed to do it all the time and believe in its unwavering efficacy – if for no other reason, because Jesus did it – sometimes all night, and sometimes to the point of sweating blood. But how, and why do we moderns, who spend most of our waking hours working, driving, parenting, worrying, and generally trying to keep up with life, ‘pray always and never lose heart?’
Certainly Jesus didn’t expect us to take this literally, lest Christianity become a religion of hermits – or very bad drivers. What Jesus may have been getting at is that prayer is not so much an activity, as it is an attitude – an attitude that is formed by God when we spend time contemplating the mysteries, meditating on the promises, and simply talking to the One person who always wants to listen.
This doesn’t have to be done with formal liturgies, on kneelers, or even in quiet places. God knows we can pay attention to ball games in bars, certainly we can think about the Lord as our Shepherd in the subway. Jesus stresses the importance of prayer because it’s good for us. It reminds us of who’s in charge, who will take our burdens, and where life is ultimately destined to go. When we pray we remind ourselves, and God, or our positions in life – as the Lover and the Beloved – and how we’ve been made channels of that affection for all that surrounds us. These are the things that matter. This is why Jesus wants us to do it more often. Let’s take a moment this week and figure out a way to make prayer a more central part of our lives.
Reading
Enough – Adam Hamilton
Sins of Scripture – John Spong
Radical – David Platt
Hospitality
Churches can think they're doing a great job at being hospitable, when, many times, they're not. Here's a parable, set in a coffee shop, urging us to be more mindful of our visitors.Reading
Enough - Adam Hamilton
The Book of God - Walter Wanergin
Radical - David Platt