Mark, Days 7&8, Mark 4

Some of the best known and most beloved stories are in Mark Chapter 4.  For example: the mustard seed and the storm at sea. There are also some very hard saying of Jesus in Chapter 4, if we take the time to really reflect on what Jesus is saying. Take for example, verses 11-12: He told them, "The secret of the kingdom of God has been given to you. But to those on the outside everything is said in parables so that, "'they may be ever seeing but never perceiving, and ever hearing but never understanding; otherwise they might turn and be forgiven!'"  What do you do with a quote like that?

Now we know that Jesus taught in Parables and I have heard it said he did so, so that people would understand - we get stories, right?  It applies truths to our lives, right?  I don't know.  He says here, they will see but not perceive, hear but not understand.  Hmmm...  What I do know is that Jesus taught in stories and once I was in Israel and seeing the places and the things that the stories referred to (subtly, in many cases) many of them suddenly made more sense.  I feel like I finally "get it."  But have you ever known someone or you yourself ever "gotten it?"  It's like when someone finally gets a riddle or a puzzle they've been concentrating on and there's that sudden burst of energy and excitement.  And there are times of faith like that as well.  Sometimes we go through the motions.  We pray, we read, we go to church, but then you see someone who gets it and there's life in them, vitality, faith, joy, something that can't necessarily be explained, but you know they get it.  And that is exciting!  But I digress...

The interesting thing is that sometimes all it takes is that small seed and God nurtures it until it blossoms.  Mark 4 uses the image of seeds A LOT and while I'm not much of a gardener (or perhaps BECAUSE I'm not much of a gardener), it always amazes me what God grows out of such tiny seemingly insignificant things such as a seed planted in dirt.  Take the mustard seed for example (Jesus did...).  Those little black specks?  Those are mustard seeds.  Crazy, huh?  Then below - that's a mustard plant.  Yep.  That one.  The one crawling all up and over the building.  That big old plant came from a few of those tiny black specs.  Amazing!  God is good.  And God can and will do that with our faith as well.

So besides the seeds, Mark tells in chapter 4 about the sea.  Actually it's a lake, but traditionally we call it a Sea.  The Sea of Galilee.

We know the story of Jesus calming the sea. And we could probably tell our own stories of Jesus calming the storms in our lives, complete with our own lack of faith and our awe and amazement at God's ability to speak the storm into silence.  I know I can.  And all I can do is stand in awe and ask "Who is this that even the wind and the waves obey him?"  I also find myself asking a second question "Who am I that God would care, that he would calm the storms that threaten to undo me?"  The answer: He is God, Savior, Messiah, Redeemer and Friend.  Who am I?  God's child.  You are too.  Never forget that.  Even when the storms come, you are the child of God and all Jesus, his son, our savior, has to do is speak and the wind and the waves obey.  Praise be to God!

Mark, Day 2 - Mark 1:21-45

This second day's reading from Mark places Jesus in Capernaum.  As you may see reading through the Gospel of Mark, Capernaum is a "hometown" for Jesus.  It is also the home of Peter and Andrew, James and John, two sets of brothers that Jesus has called as his disciples.  Capernaum was an amazing place to visit, partly because there is no doubt that Jesus was there. We walked through the ruins of the places where Jesus lived and taught and healed.  People sought Jesus out as he worshiped and taught in this synagogue:

In fact, this "white" stone was a fourth century synagogue which was built on the ruins of the synagogue that would have been the very building where Jesus healed the demon possessed man we read about here.  (See the picture to the right with the sign - white stone is 4th century and black stone is the ruins from the first century synagogue.)

Between the synagogue and the Sea (or Lake) were the remains of many houses, some modest and some more elaborate.  One of the houses in particular had been modified and built onto to be a house church in the early centuries after Jesus death and resurrection.  Much later (although, still very early compared to our 230 year "young" country), a church was erected on top of the house church, and later another, this one octagonal. (See below)  These churches are believed to be built on Peter's home.  It is believed that people began early on to visit Peter's home and a house church began to meet.  Although we cannot be 100% sure this is true, it actually makes a lot of sense.  If it is true, under this strange structure of a church, Jesus healed Peter's mother-in-law.

This is the first time in Mark that we encounter Jesus withdrawing to a solitary place to pray, which he does often.  As often as possible, anyway.  There's certainly something to be said for that.  Learning to withdraw on occasion, learning to seek solitude and enjoy quiet times of prayer is certainly something we can learn from.  But notice also that his time alone gets interrupted and yet his response is gracious and his purpose is clear.  Jesus goes with those who have come to find him without chastising them for interrupting his quiet time, without blaming them for his lack of time alone with his Father, but also without letting go of why he came.  Jesus goes with them to meet the needs of the people, but it is he who sets the agenda according to God's purpose for him.  His focus stays exactly where it should be time and time again.

Gospel of Mark Day 1 ~ Mark 1:1-20

So, obviously, keeping up with this blog has not been a strength for me, or for any of us who started out together.  And now all of our study groups here at FRPC are going in different directions with their studies: Thursdays' Women is returning to Timothy and Titus; the Wednesday night Bible Study is returning to Revelation; and the Sunday sermons are going to delve into 6 Presbyterian Beliefs (after finishing the Apostle's Creed this week).  But for those of you who have been trying to follow the blog or those who would now like to read along, the Women on Wednesday are going to study the Gospel of Mark over the next 6 weeks.  I will take this opportunity to share scenes and thoughts from my pilgrimage to Israel last year and how that pilgrimage has brought particular Gospel stories to life for me as we read through the Gospel of Mark.

Mark, of course, starts out by just jumping right in.  He doesn't start with Jesus birth or even with his lineage, but rather with his forerunner, John the Baptist.  In fact, he starts before then - he starts with Isaiah's pointing to the forerunner.  He starts with Jewish history and Scripture, because that is precisely where the story starts.  Well, if you ask John, it begins before the beginning, but you know what I mean.  Our Christian faith is rooted in God's saving history in, with, for, among His chosen people, Israel.

John was baptizing folks in the Jordan River.  And it was to the Jordan that Jesus came to be baptized.  I have to confess I was disappointed somewhat at seeing the Jordan River.  It has been commercialized and the more natural parts are, to say the least, off limits.  In fact, in about 20 languages they are "off limits."  But none-the-less, people to this day come there to be baptized (as you can see) and there is something sacred to sticking your feet in the very water in which Jesus himself was baptized.

It struck me as I read this morning and as the WOW group has previously discussed that it is the very same Spirit, the Spirit of God, that descends on Jesus at his baptism, that also sends him out into the desert.  Interesting how the Spirit sometimes leads through and into places which we DO NOT want to go.  And yet, while Jesus was in the wilderness with the wild animals, angels were sent to minister to him. He was not alone.

So, then, Jesus goes to the Sea of Galilee... otherwise known by the locals as the lake.  It is a lake, really.  And a beautiful one at that!  Although, I suppose I'm biased having spent a week in a nice hotel with awesome food overlooking the "lake."  *sigh*



Jesus goes and calls Peter, Andrew, James and John who are all fishermen.  That's their livelihood; their family's livelihood - fishing.  Probably not so much like the two guys fishing on the lake at sunrise that I caught on film, but rather, they used big nets thrown from what we would consider small fishing boats.  In fact, the picture to the right is a first century fishing boat that was dredged up from the bottom of the Sea of Galilee.  Cool, eh?

And Jesus says to these fishermen: "follow me."  And what do they do?  Hem and haw and waiver?  Plant their feet in the dirt, crossing their arms and turning away?  Keep on working like they don't hear?  NO!  They immediately drop their nets and follow Jesus.  Hmmm...  Wonder if I'm really as much like these four disciples as I should be or could be?  Doubtful.  But Praise the Lord!  God's not finished with me yet.

A Holy Lent

Do you ever have "one of those weeks"?  Seems that's been true of a lot of people lately.  It's certainly been true of me for the last couple of weeks.  Suddenly spring is blooming all over the place and there's a lot of sneezing and coughing and itching going on.  Between sickness and this busy time of year, it becomes easy to justify our Lenten disciplines in their flight out the window.  And with them goes the blog we started.  But, God gave a little push today to get back on here and I remembered the little reminder posted on my fridge: "Finish what you start."  (advice from Biggest Loser trainer, Bob.) 

Finish what you start.  Perhaps those are words of advice for this season of Lent.  We start out Lent with determined discipline and somewhere along the way, our determination wanes and we find ourselves almost to Holy Week, rubbing the sleep from our eyes as Jesus says "Could you not stay awake with me even one hour?"  But such is the discipline of Lent.  Returning to the Lord, time and time again.  Coming empty, broken, ready, waiting.

And so we come...  We come to pray... 

A Holy Lent (adapted from John Pritchard, Leading Intercessions, p.71)

Gracious Lord, in what’s left of this season of Lent and in this Holy Week, help us to aim high as we seek to renew the discipline of our discipleship.  May we take up the best and give up the rest, knowing your mercy and grace in all things.

From all self-seeking, self-promotion and self-indulgence;
from all self-pity, self-glorification and selfishness;
from all self-hatred, self-harm and self-destruction,
Gracious Lord, deliver us.

From all that would keep us from going to church;
from all that would stop us from reading your word;
from all that would keep us from receiving the sacrament,
Gracious Lord, deliver us.

From the laziness that would stop us before we begin;
from the carelessness that would mean we do it poorly;
from the impatience that would mean we wouldn’t finish,
Gracious Lord, deliver us.

From all that would limit our loving of our neighbor;
from all that would limit our loving of God;
from all that would spoil our attempt to be faithful, loving and just,
Gracious Lord, deliver us.

By the disciplines of Lent and the encouragement of others;
by the Body of Christ and the sharing of lives;
by the desire of our hearts and the need of our souls,
Gracious Lord, deliver us.

By your agony and trial;
by your cross and passion;
by your mighty resurrection and glorious ascension,
Gracious Lord, deliver us.

By all we attempt, strengthened by you;
by all that we long for, fed by you;
by all that is in us, blessed by you,
Gracious Lord, deliver us.

In every ordinary day of this Holy Week;
in every temptation to follow the crowd;
in every attempt to justify our compromises,
Gracious Lord, deliver us.

Give us Lord the blessings of this holy Lent, true journeying in Holy Week, and give us a holy and glorious Easter.  Give us time to receive your teaching and to amend our lives, give us faith to be open to the graceful filling of your Holy Spirit, and finally give us leave to come to your eternal joy.  

Holy God, Gracious King, have mercy on us, we pray.
In the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit.  Amen.

For Monday, March 8

First, I confess, I am a day behind in my reading.  Well, not now.  I caught up today (Tuesday).  I do hope there are some of you who are reading along with the Small Surrenders (by Emilie Griffin), with daily Scripture readings, and/or with this blog, even if this is not a daily thing.  Feel free to comment (all comments are moderated) and interact with us online.

Secondly, I have to say, I’m sort of glad I’m a day behind.  I’m not sure I would have heard Monday’s devotion on Monday, if you know what I mean.  I wasn’t so docile on Monday.  Too much on my plate.  And, yes, I just said docile.

Docile.  Not a word you come across in our every day language and certainly not a word I want applied to me regularly.  Sounds like an old dog.  And I am not an old dog (although I do think I can still learn new tricks!)  It reminds me of a conversation we had in Sunday School (yes, a Sunday School for adults – great fun, good conversation, growth in discipleship, it’s a good thing).  Discussion about the word meek went round and round.  Does meek mean weak?  Meek sounds like a squeaky little mouse (why is it that animals are coming to mind today…?)  Does meek refer to humility?  If so, what does it really mean to be humble?  A doormat?  I think not.  Okay, I digress…

As disciples we are called to be meek.  And docile.  So, the word “docile” itself is difficult to find in the Bible.  Eugene Peterson uses it in The Message in chapter 45 of Isaiah to talk about how people from all over will follow Cyrus (a pagan ruler) because God has chosen him and is at work through him even though Cyrus “does not know” God.  See Isaiah 45:1-14.  Very interesting.  Because this idea of God working through a pagan ruler would be so shocking to the Israelites, part of the chapter is God questioning the people: “Do you question who or what I'm making?  Are you telling me what I can or cannot do?”  Well, that would be like the clay arguing with the potter about what the potter is making out of it.

Docile means ‘open to being led.’  Me? Docile?  Not so much.  I want to be.  I want to be open to being led by God, no matter what.  I don’t want to be the clay that argues with the potter or the fetus complaining to the mother about being cooped up inside her belly.  Sort of a funny image, but it makes sense since I seem to spend far too much time arguing with God, or following God wherever God leads, but kicking and screaming as I go.  This, for me, is a small surrender I must make every day if I want to attain the docility we are called to.  Today is a new day.  Lord, let me be that old dog today.  Let me be docile.  

The Real Monastery

Thanks to some technical difficulties, this is a post from Dee that was meant for yesterday, Wednesday, March 3.


Today Emilie Griffin quotes Ronald Rolheiser, who tells us that raising children “…provides the perfect setting for leading a contemplative life... a desert for reflection, a real monastery.”  Griffin points out both the challenges of raising small children: the whining, the fighting, the endless questions and some of the joys that children teach us: how to be grateful, joyful, playful and simple. But, I think she also misses some of the characteristics of parenthood that cause it to be a real monastery.

First, is the enormity of the job. 

Raising children is a sacred privilege. Parenthood gives you reason to contemplate. You must understand your own faith in order to share it with your kids. The decisions you make on behalf of your children must not be made lightly, but thoughtfully and prayerfully.

If the abstract idea of parenthood doesn’t cause you to reflect on your own faith, then certainly the frequent, pointed questions will.   It goes far beyond “can I have more juice?” Kids ask the deepest, most probing questions.  They infamously want to know the “whys” of everything.  Why is the sky blue? Why did grandma die? Where do you go when you die? Why do you have to be nice to other people? Even more thought provoking are the questions kids ask us about ourselves.  “Why did you do that/say that/think that?”  Socrates said that the unexamined life is not worth living.  I can’t imagine that anyone who is in the midst of raising a child has not been asked a question about their own behavior that has caused them to examine their lives and contemplate their actions.

Kids hold up mirrors to their parents all the time. They are perfect mimics of our behavior. Good and bad. Many times a day, we hear our own words, in little tiny voices, echoed back to us. Sometimes what our children reflect back to us is a needed reminder to check our behavior, to try again to be kinder, speak more gently. But sometimes the reflection allows us to recognize what is beautiful in us that we cannot see in ourselves, but can clearly see in our children. Yes, raising children is like a monastery and each joy and challenge we face each day is another call to prayer.

Growing up

Thoughts on the 1 Corinthians text for today from Pastor Tom...

“And so, brothers and sisters, I could not speak to you as spiritual people, but rather as people of the flesh, as infants in Christ.  I fed you with milk, not solid food, for you were not ready for solid food.  Even now you are still not ready, for you are still of the flesh.  For as long as there is jealousy and quarreling among you, are you not of the flesh, and behaving according to human inclinations?”  (1 Corinthians 3:1-3)

If Lent has anything to do with repentance, change, or renewal, maybe another term for it would be “growing up.”  Nobody likes to be called a "baby." Yet, listen to the humiliating charge Paul levels at the Corinthian Christians: "Brothers and sisters, I could not speak to you as spiritual people, but rather as people of the flesh, as infants in Christ." (I Cor. 3:1).  Why did Paul refer disparagingly to the Corinthians as infants?  Well, because they are quarreling over personalities and risking fragmentation and eventual disintegration.  Church members are pledging allegiance to Paul or Apollos or Cephas or Christ.  Why would they do that?  The Corinthians are fascinated with divine wisdom which they claim to have received from the Spirit of God.  Possessing this wisdom makes them "spiritual" people.  In their way of thinking, true wisdom reveals itself in the rhetorical skills of its exponents.  They boast in the wisdom of their favorite preachers and, by implication, in themselves.  While they consider themselves to be spiritual, many of them are not so sure about Paul: Neither his person nor his gospel of the Crucified are impressive by their standards.

But Paul had other criteria for authentic spiritual people. Anyone who receives his gospel of the Crucified is spiritual.  Where do the Corinthians stand?  On the one hand, the apostle allows they are spiritual, not lacking in any spiritual gift (1 Cor. 1:4-7).  On the other hand, though the Corinthians may be spiritual, their behavior reflects an unspiritual approach to the faith. Yes, they are acting like people of the flesh, like mere humans, rather than Spirit-filled folk. They are acting like infants rather than grown-ups in Christ.  One clear proof of their immature behavior is that they view Paul's teaching as baby food rather than solid meat.  It can only be baby food, because they have abandoned the true gospel for something that looks like solid food but has no nutritional value at all.

So it is also with their brand of wisdom.  If they would stop acting like "babies," they could appreciate his message for what it really is—solid food.  But “spiritual” people are simply behaving and thinking like unspiritual people—like unbelievers!  Indeed, they are acting like people of the flesh.  Their jealousy and strife over their pet preachers clearly demonstrate their misguided behavior (1 Cor. 3:3-4).  The Corinthians could not stomach Paul's deeper message of the cross, because they were not able to.  They tended to view the Christian life in terms of models taken from a sinful world.  So, they are acting exactly like those who do not have the Spirit!

            

           Childish behavior shows we cannot stomach solid food about a servant, Jesus, crucified in folly and weakness.  Yes, this gospel looks like baby food to us.  No wisdom, no power in it.  Surely, it is not hard to figure out why we act as we do. The world is too much with us.  We are people of flesh.  The problem is, we apply human standards to the Christian life.  We hold a false view of Jesus Christ.  We bypass the cross in favor of the glorious kingdom.  During Lent, we are called to grow up and adopt a more biblical view of spirituality—one that sees the cross life as the model for living in the Spirit.  Leaders have their place, but they are only servants.  The members are servants who must walk humbly with God and carry the cross of suffering and shame in order to be truly spiritual people.