Scottrick – Postmodern Celtic Inspirations

Order of Worship for the following reflection: Bulletin-TL 02-26-2023 YA L1

Scriptures: Psalm 32, Matthew 4:1-11

Let us pray:

God of Springtime, let your Holy Spirit breathe insight and understanding into these ancient texts for our contemporary time. Amen.

         Today’s passage from the Gospel of Matthew sets us up for examining the ministry of Christ for the Sunday of Lent. Some commentators view this passage of temptation as preparation before the public ministry of Jesus is launched.  For much of the rest of the season of Lent, we will be dipping into the Gospel of John.  There are some interesting differences in how John’s crafting of how to understand the ministry of Jesus and how Matthew catalogs it.  Just to tempt you a bit, I will attempt to do a little comparison over the next several weeks of Lent between the two. The reason being, the authors of the Gospels of Matthew and John wrote during incredible shifts – transitions, if you will, in the lives of faithful followers of Christ. Studying them carefully, perhaps there are some lessons for where you are in your own life and ministry together in this moment.

First, let’s deal with the Tempter. I suspect many of you are familiar with this character in Matthew’s Gospel.  Or, perhaps, you are more familiar with the anthropomorphic tendencies some versions of Christianity have placed upon this character over the centuries. Or, perhaps you are more familiar with how the film industry has taken these characterizations and birthed evil incarnate in a villain of some sort.  The unfortunate tradition in our Revised Common Lectionary to elide Matthew’s passage with the Genesis passage of the crafty snake simply re-emphasizes this.  Today I would like to question this convention – and question why this story is so often called the temptation of Jesus, when clearly at this moment, Jesus shows only minimal temptation, easily “passing the test,” so-to-speak, with his rebuttals.  Commentator Douglas John Hall observes,

“We miss the point…when we consider this text only from the perspective of its characterization of Jesus and his mission. It is also … a statement about the church. [Jesus] resisted these temptations; the church, however, has rarely been able to do so. Indeed too often…the church has succumbed.”[1]

To what, you may ask?  Simply put, in one sense or another, to seizing and holding power over something or someone. To becoming, as the crafty serpent says, “like God.” Does this passage in Matthew actually embody a deceiver?  Is there an Opposite Evil Incarnation or possession, as many Hollywood films like to paint? Or is this an internal fight between the dual natures of humanity and divinity embodied in Jesus?  Which are also, I would suggest, embodied in each of us. Let me reposition the lens just a bit. Astute biblical scholar and contemporary cultural observer Maryetta Anschutz writes,

“There is something captivating about seeing evil incarnate on the big screen, in the pages of a novel, or in the names of those said by a nation to pose political threats. It is only human to feel the need to see evil anthropomorphized, to name, visualize, vilify, and separate us from “it” in order to engage “it” as an opponent in battle. This is true in sacred texts as well. Evil tests Eve and Aaron, the great high priest, Job and King David, Jesus and his disciples. Over and over again, in order to live a life that chooses God, a faithful person must face the choice of acting outside of God. It is easier to make that choice if we can put a face on temptation.”[2]

In a summary of author C.S. Lewis’s theological perspective in The Screwtape Letters, she again observes that temptations, personified in the characters Uncle Screwtape and understudy Wormwood, try to,

“Create a generation of people who are defined by selfishness and insincerity, pettiness and pride, fear and a need to control the things of this world.”[3]

She goes on to write,

“This is true of our own temptations. Most of us cannot imagine the devil offering bread after a forty–day fast. We do not know the fear of being held over the ledge at the top of the Empire State Building. We certainly do not know the temptation of being offered all the power in the world. Each one of us, however, understands the temptations Screwtape and Wormwood offer: pride, vanity, selfishness, and apathy.”[4]

This also happens at the corporate level of church and society. Who are we and what is our standing in this community? How might we leverage our past and future with the temptation of what we most might gain? Or perhaps, a more simple yet just as tempting – we just want it to be the way it was, the way we remember it when we loved it best? How can we get there?  It is tempting to want to hold on and grasp that which is most familiar in the face of changes and challenges of the unfamiliar, isn’t it?  Yet every Christian Community can benefit most by asking: What is our mission?  What is our purpose?  Is it to service others and the community in which we sit or to serve ourselves?  How do we offer God to the world that needs an encounter with the Living Christ?  What does it take for us to feed the deep inner hunger people of all ages need as they grow in mind, body, and spirit into who they will become as Christ’s disciples in the world?  Traditionally,

“Lenten penitence engages the dark places in our lives that we may come face to face with them, name them, understand them, and seek forgiveness for them. [But it] is not about guilt. It is about freedom from the control that our fears and insecurities have over us all, about the amendment of life and new beginnings.”[5]

Spring is bursting around us, God’s gift of Earth’s visual cycle of birth, death, and resurrection that is the true meaning of Lent.  Peering through the lens of Springtime emerging, can you apply the vision you have adopted as a Matthew 25 church and see spiritual renewal, congregational renewal, outward mission, and a deepened faith for all?

May all glory be unto the One who lived, died, and rose again for us, even Him who is the Christ. Amen?  May it be so.

[1] Douglas John Hall “Theological Perspective, Matthew 4:1-11” in Feasting on the Word, Year A (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2010).

[2] Maryetta Anschutz, “Pastoral Perspective, Matthew 4:1-11” in Feasting on the Word, Year A (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2010).

[3] Ibid.

[4] Ibid.

[5] Ibid.

Traditional Order of Worship to accompany this reflection: Bulletin-02-19-2023 Transfiguration YA

Let us pray:

Holy One, may the words that I craft and the thoughts and feelings they engender honor you.  May your Holy Spirit intervene if needed, ensuring the message you wish to be known despite my attempt to witness.  Amen.

I used to love to pitch a tent on the ground; unroll my sleeping bag on a mat and listen to the silence of the wilderness seep into my soul, de-cluttering my life. On the occasions that I used to spend the night up in Trout Lake, I’d open the window at night, listening to the silence and the stars. In those times I was reminded to slow down and appreciate life’s pace at a different speed. As we prepare to enter into the Lenten season, it is a good opportunity to slow down and appreciate life at a different speed.  Have you noticed how spring is unfolding, even in the midst of the cold-those daffodils beginning to reach their tender green shoots to the sky – and even some of them with buds already forming on the end.  Look, listen, observe; in opening your eyes to the mystery and rhythm of the earth’s seasons, we also open to God’s beauty.  Who knows what you might see?

Today’s scripture is a story of opening eyes and seeing more than what is ordinary.  Three disciples saw something extra-ordinary when Jesus took Peter, James, and John up the mountain.  I wonder, did Jesus know that God, Moses, and Elijah would meet with him on a certain date; and that it would be instructive for Peter, James, and John to witness it?

What is the true story here? How are we to interpret it? What is our response, in faith, supposed to guide us into doing? One commentator wisely writes:

[The] moment of transfiguration … affirms Jesus’ divinity…[allowing] the disciples to see God’s light in the chaos to come: death, loss, fear and resurrection, the work of the early church. The challenge to the disciples is to live in a world without Jesus’ bodily presence.[1]

Another reason to consider this passage is for the enduring image of clarity of thinking found in mountain top experiences. C.S. Lewis writes, in Aslan’s voice in the fourth book of the Chronicles of Narnia,

Here on the mountain I have spoken to you clearly. I will not often do so down in Narnia. Here on the mountain, the air is clear and your mind is clear; as you drop down into Narnia, the air will thicken. Take great care that it does not confuse your mind. And the signs which you have learned here will not look at all as you expect them to look, when you meet them there. That is why it is so important to know them by heart and pay no attention to appearance. Remember the signs and believe the signs. Nothing else matters.[2]

Put another way,

God prepares people in the transcendent encounters of our lives to endure [a] world that has the ability to break us and yet is never beyond God’s redemption. These encounters happen on mountaintops with a blinding light for some. For most, they happen in the ordinary moments of our classrooms, boardrooms, and soup kitchens—any place where we make a space for the Holy to be present.[3]

Which I suspect is precisely why Matthew chose to frame his account of the transfiguration event the way he did.

When Matthew preaches the transfiguration, he addresses a congregation for whom Moses is a compelling interpretative template. Matthew’s sermon is Moses–shaped and the mount of the transfiguration echoes Sinai. … just as Moses receives the law on Mount Sinai, Jesus teaches the “Sermon on the Mount” (Matt. 5–7). Moses interprets the commandments of God in Deuteronomy, [so] Jesus interprets the commandments [when he says,] “You have heard that it was said” (Matt. 5:21, 27, 33, 38, 43, etc.). … when Matthew preaches the transfiguration, he intensifies the Moses theme in order to preach Christ.

(…) The genius of Matthew’s preaching, however, centers on the way in verse 6 he echoes the terror and dismay of the Israelites who hear the voice of God (Exod. 20:18) and cry out, “You speak to us, and we will listen; but do not let God speak to us, or we will die” (Exod. 20:19). The glorious presence and commanding voice of the Holy One of Israel threatens to overwhelm those who encounter them, but to the disciples overwhelmed by the presence and voice of God, Jesus reaches out his hand, touches them, and reassures them: “Do not be afraid” (v. 7).[4]

This is the way that God comes into the world: not simply the brilliant cloud of mystery, not only a voice thundering from heaven, but also a human hand laid upon a shoulder and the words, “Do not be afraid.” God comes to us quietly, gently, that we may draw near and not be afraid. God’s glory is majestic and (yet) so far beyond our capacity to receive it that we can (only) take just as much of God’s glory as a human hand can hold (emphasis added).[5]

What can we take from this story today? The transfiguration is a vision of God coming to earth and pitching a tent among us – a holy reminder as we enter into Lent that Christ, Emmanuel, is God enfleshed, having become one of us that we might learn how to live Christlike lives on this earth and for the sake of others.

May all glory be unto the One who lived, died, and rose again for us, even Him who is the Christ. Amen?  May it be so.

[1] Maryetta Madeeine Anshutz, “Pastoral Perspective, Matthew 17:1-9” in Feasting on the Word – Year A, ed. David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2010).

[2] C.S. Lewis, The Silver Chair (New York: Harper Collins, 1981) 25-26.

[3] Maryetta Madeeine Anshutz, “Pastoral Perspective, Matthew 17:1-9” in Feasting on the Word.

[4] Patrick J. Wilson, “Homiletical Perspective, Matthew 17:1-9” in Feasting on the Word – Year A, ed. David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2010).

[5] Ibid.

Traditional Style Worship used with the following reflection: NVPC Bulletin-TL 02-05-2023 YA E5

Scriptures: Matthew 5:13-20

Let us pray:

Holy Creator, the words that I craft, the thoughts and feelings they engender, are meant to honor you.  May your Holy Spirit intervene if needed, ensuring the message you wish to be heard despite my attempt to witness.  Amen.

One of the lectionary commentators this week really got me thinking.  In our last week to overlap lectionary readings from Matthew, two questions stand out as particularly important to consider in your current times and in light of current events. First, as a community of faith, who are you?  Second, as a community of faith, what are you to do?

The first question has many layers. We are Christians, those who have followed the way of Jesus, yes. Some of us might be undecided about how deeply Christian, or at least consider ourselves a combination of several spiritual traditions. This is perfectly fine; God looks into our hearts and sees who we truly are. Together, whatever we are, I pray this is a community that supports one another and our growth as human and spiritual beings.

With that in mind, I would like to quote past Presbyterian Outlook Editor Rev. Jill Duffield’s weekly reflection from three years ago on this date.  She writes,

True worship and religious ritual pleasing to God entails feeding the hungry, freeing the oppressed and bringing the homeless poor into your home. Christ crucified is the wisdom of God…Where are Christians being salt and bearing light? What do we imagine is glorifying God?[1]

Examining Matthew’s Jewish Christian community very well could provide us with some insights. Matthew lived in a time of theological and social tension. Times were changing, rapidly on the spiritual front, slowly on the political, and slower still on the cultural, but they were changing. The Jewish community was in conflict regarding the future of Judaism and what it meant to be Jewish. After the first Jewish-Roman war in 70 CE failed, what was thought of to be established forever, even under Roman Occupation, was now gone. Which begged the question, what could be done to hold onto an ethnic and spiritually cultural reality in the midst of devastation, grief and loss, and in many cases dispersal?

Compare the reality of Matthew’s time frame in or around 80 CE to contemporary values and practices. Concerning Christianity in America, previous generations and the various traditional main line Protestant denominations have been operating essentially the same way for about three generations or more. Some of those practices, and institutional beliefs and structures are no longer filling the needs or realities of younger worshipers.

Denominations are experiencing loss of social power.  Even as Jesus seems to be answering “Who are we” and “What are we to do” with his teaching, recorded in Matthew’s tempestuous time, so we must ask, “What does it mean to be disciples of Jesus Christ in [our setting today]?”[2] Digging further into the text of Matthew, we find deeper meanings for Salt and Light. “In Judaism, salt was a symbol of covenant.”[3] Also in Matthew’s time there was a prevailing belief that the apocalypse was just around the corner, with the result that Jesus would return soon and “fully establish the realm of God.”[4] Therefore, the community of now is also a community of eschatology. In simpler terms, this means we are the Realm of God “already but not yet fully come into its own.”

Light in this passage is ascribed to be the vocation of the whole community of Israel – whether or not it exists as a physical nation or a diaspora community of like-minded Jewish peoples living across the Roman world.  In their life, their spirituality, and their very comportment day to day even as oppressed, ex-patriot, even immigrant peoples, they were to be role models for the whole of the known world and those who governed it.

If we are to take being disciples of Jesus seriously, then we, altogether as God’s community the Church, are nothing less than a mirror for the whole world to see reflected God’s economy, God’s community, and God’s loving kindness enacted to all people at all times in all places we inhabit. In short, God’s heavenly kingdom incarnate on earth. The purpose of Light is to illumine.

In this work, for all of us, we stand at the threshold of God’s Realm, ready to enter, yes, but also ready to hold the door for others to enter in. The single most incredible spiritual practice I can think of that we can participate in today is to pray, with all of our being, that our eyes may be opened to see God working in the lives of others; and, to be bold enough to ask of God, “How might we take part in your work in the lives of our family, friends, and neighbors? Use me! Use us all O God, to be your light in the world!”

May all glory be unto the One who lived, died, and rose again for us, even him who is the Christ. Amen?  May it be so.

[1] Jill Duffield, “Looking into the Lectionary – 5^th Sunday after the Epiphany” accessed February 5, 2020, http://campaign.r20.constantcontact.com/render?m=1102135377571&ca=91a9d3cc-cee6-4757-85ff-774411c1916c.

[2] Ronald J. Allen, “Homiletical Perspective, Matthew 5:13-20” in Feasting on the Word – Year A, ed. David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2010).

[3] Ibid..

[4] Ibid.