When recent grads hear that Dr. Cook is teaching his Ezekiel class this semester, they tend to be jealous. "Man, I wanted to take that class," they inevitably say. It is a sweet, sweet class. The book of Ezekiel is one crazy prophetic text, and some of the themes of this exilic prophet are amazingly universal. The thing that hits me over and over again, however, is the prophets holiness theology.
A down and dirty synopsis of the holiness strand is that God, who is fully other, fully holy, dwells in the holy of holies. God's holiness is guarded by cherubim (angels) and human priests (Levites), but it radiates throughout the Promised Land and beyond. Evil in the land impacts God's holiness by making his dwelling unclean, and could, if bad enough, force God to move his presence somewhere else.
All this to say, that in the Deuteronomy lesson it is interesting to me that God has yet to choose his home in the land he will give the Israelites. More interesting, and key to understanding the Hebrew Bible and holiness theology is that God dwells among the people. As this imaginary person brings the first fruits of the land to the altar, he comes radically close to the holiness of God. This is a dangerous place to be.
The most prevalent image of holiness in the HB/OT is that of a fire (think Refiner's Fire). The holiness of God smelts the soul of humanity, removing all the impurities, and leaving only the pure gold of holiness behind. To approach God, even within the Temple, is to be ridiculously close to that fire which is all consuming. It is radical that God chose to dwell in and with his Creation. It is radical that he allowed his Creation to come so close to his otherness. This otherness, this holiness, the refining fire is an image that we have very much lost in our society, but one we should seek to reclaim.
Friday, February 16, 2007
Thursday, February 15, 2007
offering thanksgiving
We, as modern-day Christians, have a hard time with the book of Deuteronomy. The law given in that book is foreign to us in many ways. Yet the lesson for Lent 1 is clearly applicable today. If one reads it with a careful eye, it seems to say that while God requires the first fruits of the harvest, he doesn't care much about it. Instead, he wants you to offer thanksgiving for the great things he has done.
In this passage the Israelites are told what they should say as they offer their first fruits to God. The words are not praises or adorations. They are not glories and hallelujahs, but rather they are a story; THE story. The story of Israel's salvation from its humble beginnings as "a wandering Aramean" to its entrance into the land of "milk and honey". The murmuring of the desert is no where to be found in this story, for it is a recollection of God's saving action; a work done having required nothing of God's chosen people. A work done in grace. Giving of the first fruits is a response to that grace. Recalling the story of salvation is a way of offering thanksgiving that is well beyond the giving of material things.
We, as modern-day Christians, can associate with this. As we come to offer God our thanksgivings we would do well to recall the saving work done long before us. The grace filled act of saving Israel from Egypt is repeated in the grace filled sacrifice of the paschal lamb. God doesn't need our first fruits, God doesn't need anything. God wants and longs for our relationship, and the beginning of that relationship is the recognition of God's total otherness and God's saving work in history. So offer your first fruits, but not to fulfill some requirement, but rather as a spiritual discipline of thanksgiving in the recollection of God's saving grace.
In this passage the Israelites are told what they should say as they offer their first fruits to God. The words are not praises or adorations. They are not glories and hallelujahs, but rather they are a story; THE story. The story of Israel's salvation from its humble beginnings as "a wandering Aramean" to its entrance into the land of "milk and honey". The murmuring of the desert is no where to be found in this story, for it is a recollection of God's saving action; a work done having required nothing of God's chosen people. A work done in grace. Giving of the first fruits is a response to that grace. Recalling the story of salvation is a way of offering thanksgiving that is well beyond the giving of material things.
We, as modern-day Christians, can associate with this. As we come to offer God our thanksgivings we would do well to recall the saving work done long before us. The grace filled act of saving Israel from Egypt is repeated in the grace filled sacrifice of the paschal lamb. God doesn't need our first fruits, God doesn't need anything. God wants and longs for our relationship, and the beginning of that relationship is the recognition of God's total otherness and God's saving work in history. So offer your first fruits, but not to fulfill some requirement, but rather as a spiritual discipline of thanksgiving in the recollection of God's saving grace.
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
a crafty sob
The devil is one crafty son-of-a-gun. The story of Jesus' 40 days in the wilderness gets my attention every time. It begins with the Spirit sending him to the wilderness (which if one is listening for the Spirit will happen more than once in one's life). Then, the devil shows up to have some fun. A hungry Jesus, having spent 40 days without food, is tempted first by the a call to his most basic needs. "You are hungry, make yourself something to eat." Maslow and his hierarchy of needs must have a field day with this passage. Not only is Jesus tempted to fulfill his physical desire for food, but he is also called on to self-actualize his authority, "If you are the Son of God..." Jesus however is cool, "It is written, one does not live by bread alone."
The devil tries again. This time trying to stroke Jesus' materialistic side. "I have all this," the devil says, "if you bow down and worship me, it will be yours." I'm not sure if it has always been this way, but if one looks around the world today, it is easy to say that materialism is by far the most rampant -ism afflicting humanity. Jesus, the Son of God, who will one day rule all of Creation, probably had some inclination that first he would have to suffer death upon the cross. It would have been a heck of a lot easier to skip the next 3 years of telling the same stories over and over to hard headed apostles and take the devil's offer, but he refuses. His will, both human will and divine will, are so one with the Father that he chooses the harder road, for with the harder road comes the restoration of humanity, that is the purpose for which he came to earth.
Finally, the devil gets crafty. If he won't take food and he won't take stuff, surely he'll take heed of that which is so close to his heart, the scripture. The devil turns the Word around on the Word made flesh in the hopes of catching him napping. Jesus, however, is undeterred. Having been around since, well, before time, Jesus knows full well what it means to have angels protecting him, and it certainly isn't testing God by jumping from the top of God's own dwelling place, the temple.
The devil is a crafty SOB. He's always using that which we know best to fool, trick, and confuse us. Often, we see it coming, and still are unable to defend ourselves against falling into temptation. Fortunately, we have an out. Jesus, who was like us, yet without sin, knows temptation, he knows the chicanery, and he has redeemed us from all those times when we can't get away from the tempter. Thanks be to God for that.
The devil tries again. This time trying to stroke Jesus' materialistic side. "I have all this," the devil says, "if you bow down and worship me, it will be yours." I'm not sure if it has always been this way, but if one looks around the world today, it is easy to say that materialism is by far the most rampant -ism afflicting humanity. Jesus, the Son of God, who will one day rule all of Creation, probably had some inclination that first he would have to suffer death upon the cross. It would have been a heck of a lot easier to skip the next 3 years of telling the same stories over and over to hard headed apostles and take the devil's offer, but he refuses. His will, both human will and divine will, are so one with the Father that he chooses the harder road, for with the harder road comes the restoration of humanity, that is the purpose for which he came to earth.
Finally, the devil gets crafty. If he won't take food and he won't take stuff, surely he'll take heed of that which is so close to his heart, the scripture. The devil turns the Word around on the Word made flesh in the hopes of catching him napping. Jesus, however, is undeterred. Having been around since, well, before time, Jesus knows full well what it means to have angels protecting him, and it certainly isn't testing God by jumping from the top of God's own dwelling place, the temple.
The devil is a crafty SOB. He's always using that which we know best to fool, trick, and confuse us. Often, we see it coming, and still are unable to defend ourselves against falling into temptation. Fortunately, we have an out. Jesus, who was like us, yet without sin, knows temptation, he knows the chicanery, and he has redeemed us from all those times when we can't get away from the tempter. Thanks be to God for that.
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
testimony
Surprisingly enough, the TV went off early last night and Cassie and I got into bed by 10 and read our books. As most of you know, I'm not much of a reader, but I'm really enjoying Diana Butler Bass' newest book, Christianity for the Rest of Us. The chapter with which I am currently wrestling is entitled "Testimony". In it Bass calls for a return to the ancient practice of testimony - talking openly and publicly about one's faith. I am not good at this. I think its safe to say, we, as Episcopalians are not good at this. Yet it is such a powerful practice. She recounts the words of one guy who says, "When people ask me what I did this weekend I can't help but jump into a story about a great liturgy or a sermon."
"I can't help but jump into a story about a great liturgy or sermon." This I think we can do. While we might not able to share the story of when we accepted Jesus Christ as our personal Lord and Savior (Junior Year of High School - favorite passage Proverbs 3.5-6), but we can talk about our church life, our experience of God in liturgy, Word, and Sacrament. This goes along well with the Epistle to the Romans. To confess with our lips and believe in our hearts is to know the Lord. Our confession is our testimony of our experience of the Divine. To believe is to have no choice but to testify. Its awkward and uncomfortable, but it is a wonderful practice and a great evangelism tool.
"For one believes with the heart and so is justified, and one confesses with the mouth and so is saved."
"I can't help but jump into a story about a great liturgy or sermon." This I think we can do. While we might not able to share the story of when we accepted Jesus Christ as our personal Lord and Savior (Junior Year of High School - favorite passage Proverbs 3.5-6), but we can talk about our church life, our experience of God in liturgy, Word, and Sacrament. This goes along well with the Epistle to the Romans. To confess with our lips and believe in our hearts is to know the Lord. Our confession is our testimony of our experience of the Divine. To believe is to have no choice but to testify. Its awkward and uncomfortable, but it is a wonderful practice and a great evangelism tool.
"For one believes with the heart and so is justified, and one confesses with the mouth and so is saved."
Monday, February 12, 2007
opportune time
I preached this weekend on what I consider to be one of the most dangerous passages in all of Scripture, "blessed are you who are poor." Today, as I dive into the readings for the first Sunday in Lent (I can't believe we're almost in lent already), I think I've found one of the most frightening lines in the Gospels, "When the devil had finished every test, he departed from him until an opportune time."
How true is this!?! The devil is a constant nemesis. Just when we think he's gone, or as the fancy is these days, just when we've explained him away as metaphor, he springs back into our lives ready to fight the same battles again. A friend calls this "Uncle Baggage". The unexpected guest who appears when you are most vulnerable to rub salt in your wounds. Jesus is led by the Spirit to the wilderness. These 40 days should be a time of quiet and deep self-reflection. Instead, the devil shows up to make it 40 days of hell.
Being tempted is not fun. You know it is happening, and you know you really really want what the devil is offering. On the other hand, you know full well the ramifications of siding with the devil. It sucks, I know. What sucks more is that even when you overcome temptation having found God once again "mighty to save" the devil doesn't leave you alone forever. You've merely won the battle, the war will continue as long as you live. The devil will depart, only to return at an opportune time.
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