Mark 2:23-3:6: Kingdom Disputes

00001516In the same way that Mark 2:13-22 includes two questions, the first one asked about Jesus and the second one asked about Jesus’ disciples, this section, Mark 2:19-3:6, includes two questions. The first is directed towards Jesus about his disciples, and the second where Jesus asks a question no one is willing to answer.

In the first Sabbath scene, Jesus is asked about a practice in which his disciples are engaging: picking heads of grain from the fields. This practice of gleaning can be found in three passages from the Old Testament, Leviticus 19:9-10, Leviticus 23:22, and Deuteronomy 24:19-22. This practice is also described in the story of Ruth 2 as a kind of social welfare for Ruth and Naomi.

Of course, the Pharisees know these passages from Leviticus and they know about Ruth and Naomi. Their problem is not that the disciples are eating from the fields, but that they are eating from the fields on the Sabbath. So, when Jesus is asked about their practice, he doesn’t refer back to Leviticus, Deuteronomy, or Ruth, but he references a story from 1 Samuel 21 where David, on the run from Saul, stops and requests from the priest the consecrated bread for himself and his companions.

Perhaps what Jesus is implying here is that if David, while on his way to becoming king over Israel, makes an exception to the rule (Leviticus 22:10) when it comes to eating the consecrated bread, so to Jesus, who is a Son of David, the King of Kings, has the right to challenge restrictions on picking grain on the Sabbath. Perhaps the analogy is that in the same way David has some discretion in pursuit of his kingship, so too Jesus has discretion as he assumes his kingdom. After all, it is the king who makes and enforces the rules.  In essence, what he says to the Pharisees is that they believe David had the right to make an amendment to ceremonial regulations, so why wouldn’t the Son of God have those same rights.

Mark then deftly connects this story of the disciples picking grains with their hands on the sabbath to man before Jesus on the sabbath with a withered hand – unable to pick grain or do much other work to support himself. To have a deformity like this would mean not only that the man is unable to work, but probably couldn’t even engage in the social welfare described above that was intended to protect him.

It’s into this second sabbath story that Jesus asks his question: “Which is lawful on the Sabbath: to do good or to do evil, to save life or to kill?” We’ve seen several questions flying around in the gospel of Mark so far, even several questions from Jesus. This is the first time, though, that Mark tells us that everyone remained silent as a response to Jesus’ question. Mark portrays Jesus’ emotion, his anger and astonishment at their indifference. The question is answered by Jesus asking the man to stretch out his restored hand. From here the Pharisees partner with the Herodians, a reference to those who would count themselves as supporters of Herod Antipas, to plot how they might destroy this usurper to the throne.

I think what Mark is setting up for us in these passages is the battle between the kingship and Kingdom of God against the kingship and kingdom of the Pharisees and the Herodians. Jesus, quite naturally, comes into conflict with the kingdoms of the Pharisees and the Herodians. Mark’s inclusion of Jesus’ reference to King David as he was assuming the throne should place into our minds notions of Jesus as King and assuming a very different kind of throne. For the reader, the differences between these kingdoms are beginning to come into focus.

Mark 2:18-22: Jesus is questioned about f(e)asting

It’s now Jesus’ turn to be asked a question. In 2:16 it’s the pharisees question Jesus’ disciples about why he’s eating with tax collectors and sinners. In 2:18 they, potentially generic people, ask Jesus why his disciples fail to fast. When compared with the previous questioning, it appears that Mark is having a bit of fun with us as the disciples are questioned about Jesus’ actions and Jesus is questioned about the disciples’ action. In fact, if you go back to the healing of the paralyzed man in 2:1-12, there are questions floating about, directed at no one in particular, that Jesus answers. So, there is a movement from 1) questions directed at no one, 2) a question directed at Jesus’ disciples, and then 3) a question directed at Jesus. Jesus tries to clear the air by pointing out that the guest of honor is in town and you wouldn’t hold a fast when you were supposed to have a feast. The time for fasting will come, but the time now is to feast. Jesus even answers their question with a question, “The wedding guests cannot fast while the bridge groom is with them, can they?”

The fasting that the disciples of John and the Pharisees are asking about is the kind of legalese fasting required by Jews, fasting twice a week on Mondays and Thursdays. Perhaps this fasting is an attempt to follow an extra-biblical command in order to bring about the new Kingdom of the Messiah. In other words, it was by fasting, by pulling away from sinners, that the Kingdom would be inaugurated. What Jesus declares with his emphasis on fasting is the very thing he decrees in Mark 1:14, “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near, repent, and believe in the good news.” The Kingdom does not come through fasting, but, it’s in the act of feasting with those at the margins that God’s Kingdom is celebrated.

Jesus then puts two comparisons in front of us, one about old and new cloth and one about old and new wineskins. His overall point in using these illustrations is that no one would ever think about putting something new on something old. You don’t put new cloth on old cloth to repair a tear because it would end up making the tear worse. You don’t put new wine into old wineskins because they’ll burst the wineskins, ruining the wine and the wineskins. What do we make of this?

I think staying with the original question posed to Jesus about his disciples is important for understanding Jesus’ use of these illustrations. Even in Matthew and Luke’s accounts of this encounter, while there are a few variants, the question posed to Jesus about fasting is attached to the reference of old and new. Perhaps these examples are an indication that, yes, God was doing something new and wondrous in their midst. That, yes, the inauguration of God’s Kingdom is filled with feasting in anticipation of the final feast we’ll share with the Messiah. Yet, there’s also an element about who’s fit to be entrusted with this Kingdom message. Jesus is stinging in his indictment that it’s not John’s disciples, or the Pharisees, because their religion has made them unfit t0 be vessels of God’s Kingdom. The old would have to be made new again.

Instead, it’s those untainted by religion, those unsullied from years of thinking they have it right, who are entrusted to be God’s heralds. It’s those who are still flexible enough to handle the new cloth and the new wine. If we take Jesus at his word, the Kingdom message would have been ruined, along with John’s disciples and the Pharisees, if they had been entrusted with his message. It becomes all too clear why Jesus chose those with no formal education and no background in temple life to be his closest disciples.

Jesus is questioning the old versus the new, the flexibility of those he’s calling to handle his Kingdom message, and taking on the impossibility of legalese religion to bring about God’s Kingdom. Jesus teaches us that rigidity and a position of exclusion from those God is reaching out to has no place in God’s Kingdom.

Mark 2:13-17: Jesus calls Levi and Eats with Sinners

Tax collectors in Jesus’ day were those who had crossed over to work for the oppressive Roman empire. They were seen as unclean because their job required that they entire the homes of non-Jews in order to collect taxes, and their income was generated by over-taxing. So, to call Levi as a disciple was, in and of itself, a counter-cultural and incredibly subversive decision. This was someone, regardless of his piety or devotion, that others would not have accepted as working to inaugurate God’s kingdom. Yet, when called, Levi drops everything in order to pursue life with Jesus.

The presence of Levi among the disciples had to cause some internal grumbling. There’s reason to think that Levi might have been the person collecting taxes from James, John and Andrew. Even in the calling of disciples, Jesus is working on putting back together the fragmented society in which these men live.

After calling Levi, Jesus goes and eats dinner at his house, socializing and putting himself on equal terms with “sinners”. Those in religious power, the teachers of the law and Pharisees, saw this happening, they asked Jesus’ disciples why Jesus ate and drank with sinners. It’s interesting that they religious elites didn’t ask the disciples why they ate with sinners. Possibly the Pharisees and teachers regarded Jesus’ disciples as part of the group of “sinners” with whom Jesus was dining.

Unable, or unwilling, to answer for themselves, Jesus speaks up and tells the leaders that he has come to be with those in need of grace, not those whose access to God is used to  create barriers to prevent others from accessing it.

How do churches or Christian organizations respond to this text? Aren’t they the ones who are ‘righteous’? How do I respond to this text as someone from the perspective of the pharisees and teachers of the law than the “sinners”?

Any ministry taken up by the church must keep in mind that is mission, as given by Jesus, is to reach those on the margins. Jesus made those who were part of the religious establishment uncomfortable by calling those on the outside to be his disciples. Jesus’ ministry was directed to those on the outside, and those on the inside grasp and complain because their position of power has been ignored.

What’s most surprising and subversive about this text is that Jesus puts himself on the same social platform as those the pharisees decry as “sinners”, and suggests that his ministry that the Kingdom of God has come near is about calling those you wouldn’t expect to champions of his Kingdom message.

Mark 2:1-12: Jesus Heals a Paralytic and Forgives Sin

 

healing of a paralytic

Mark opens this scene with a crowd breaking down the doors to get a view of Jesus. Jesus is at home, preaching to the crowds, and four men come along carrying a paralytic on a bed. Unable to draw close to Jesus because of the crowds, the four men come up with a humorously absurd plan. They’ll drag their paralyzed friend on top of a roof, cut a hole in the it and then lower the man down in front of Jesus in order to be healed.

Mark’s humor is not our humor. However, if we envision four men dragging a paralyzed man up the side of a building, it doesn’t take much imagination to speculate on the yelling, near falls, and commotion this would have caused. Then there’s Jesus giving a sermon in the midst of this commotion, even as the four men break through the roof and lower their friend down to be with Jesus. Mark tells us that Jesus saw in this activity their faith, and its from their posture of faith that Jesus heals. This healing occurs because of faith, not to produce it in others.

Jesus’ initial response to their actions is to forgive the man of his sins. This probably wasn’t what the men had in mind when they began executing their plan. However, this statement sparks the conflict that propels the narrative along. It is in response to this forgiveness that the scribes, the religious experts begin to scoff. “Who does Jesus think he is? Who has the ability to forgive sins except for God alone”

It’s clear that the religious elite are having trouble making sense of Jesus’ claim. Feeling out the room, Jesus tells the scribes that he’s going to do something to make it known that he has the power to forgive sins; he’s going to tell the man to stand up, take his mat and walk. Jesus then refers to himself as the Son of Man, a reference to the powerful character described in Daniel who is given power and authority over “all peoples, nations, and languages.”  Jesus mimics this language from Daniel, wanting to show his own authority over sin and disease. The man is healed, picks up his bed and goes on his way. Others see this and are amazed at what’s happened. 

While reading this healing, I can’t help but think about Jesus baptism in the first chapter of Mark and the similarities. Mark tells us that the heavens are ripped open and the spirit of God descends on Jesus like a dove and a voice comes from the heavens saying that Jesus is God’s son. The four men rip open the roof and lower a paralyzed man to Jesus. At the heart of both of these stories is a question of identity. Jesus hears God’s voice claiming him as the Son of God. In Mark 2, Jesus refers to himself with another messianic title, the Son of Man. These two stories are woven together with identity and titles of Jesus lordship, and caught up in all of this are the scribes.  

In a sense the scribes are just as paralyzed. When they hear Jesus make his statement about forgiving sin, they are paralyzed in their faith, unable to see that Jesus is the one to whom their scriptures point. The paralyzed man has a faith that is free and active, and the scribes have a faith that is a limp as the paralytics legs. It appears that Jesus’ activity is already sparking various reactions. Some will dramatically climb to a roof in hopes of lowering a paralyzed friend into Jesus’ presence. Others will scoff at Jesus’ claim to forgive sins, revealing the rigidity and frailness of their faith. We’re left with the story urging us to make our own sense out of it.

 

Mark 1:40-45: Jesus Makes a Leper Clean

Leviticus 13 goes into great detail outlining the various skin diseases and lesions which would make a person unclean. As with most of the purity codes in Leviticus, leprosy was a disorder that made a person an outcast physically, socially and religiously. When we say leprosy, we are typically referring to Hansen’s disease, which includes symptoms of open sores, disfigured extremities, loss of feeling and even paralysis.

In Jesus’ day, leprosy could refer to any number of skin disorders, even those that could appear and disappear in a few days. Whether or not the man suffered from Hansen’s disease, or a minor skin irritation as outlined in Leviticus 13, is not central to the interpretation of the passage. If the man was in full obedience of Leviticus purity laws, he would have been confined to living outside of the community and tasked with avoiding all physical contact (Lev. 13:45). What’s interesting about the leper in Mark is that he appears to be defying these restrictions and boldly petitions Jesus to be healed. However, Leviticus clearly instructs those suffering with leprosy to visit the priest in order to be properly declared clean or unclean. Perhaps the leper views Jesus as serving in the role of a priest, but with the ability to not simply declare him clean but make him clean (v. 40).

Upon hearing the request of the leper, Mark gives us insight to Jesus’ thoughts concerning the scene. Jesus is described as “filled with compassion”. Some variations of the text might be translated, “filled with anger”. This alternate reading is important to consider because it gives Jesus a sense of righteous indignation at the demeaning aspects of leprosy. Compassion and anger seem to be working together as Jesus is concerned for the man’s physical well-being and angry at the rejection he has experienced in the community.

Jesus acts in a surprising way. His righteousness causes him to draw near those in suffering and pain, while the righteousness of others encourages them to push away those who are “unclean”.  In the process of healing the man, Jesus makes himself ritually unclean, but then he goes to the trouble of telling the healed leper to go to the temple to offer sacrifices as commanded by Moses (Leviticus 13). Jesus seems to have no concern for showing others that he is willing to go through the same process in order to be declared clean. In this passage, Jesus doesn’t simply relate or befriend those on the fringes of society. He becomes one of them, while also restoring the person to their rightful place in the community.

Mark concludes the account with details on the response of the cleansed leper. Instead of going to the priest and keeping his mouth shut, he begins to freely explain Jesus’ actions. Mark uses this to create tension in our minds about whether the man is being religiously rebellious or overflowing with joy, much like the tension created with Jesus’ compassion and anger. The final outcome is that news about Jesus spreads so quickly that he’s unable to stay in towns. Jesus is forced dwell in lonely places.

This last piece of information is not provided to simply further the narrative, nor is it to be considered as a throw away or transitional phrase. Instead, it’s part of the masterful storyteller at work. Jesus takes a leper, who was on the outside of society in “lonely places,” restores him to his community and, as a result, takes on the experience of the leper. Jesus is now no longer able to enter a town openly.

Mark’s tightly woven narrative creates tension, while also speaking to the nature of God, answering questions about Jesus’ identity. We are put in the position of deciding what this means. What kind of a tale are we being invited to join?

Spiritual Formation and the Real World

Christian discipleship is the process of becoming more human. 

As a person who works at a Christian school, I’m always curious to see just how people will respond when they ask me what I do. Even beyond the elitism, dogmatism and narrow-minded stigma of Christian Education (as if that wasn’t enough) there is my rather unusual title that I always say with a bit of a grimace: Director of Spiritual Formation. It’s gotten to the point that, when asked, I usually begin with a disclaimer about my title before telling people what it is.

I think one of the reasons I’m reluctant to throw that title around is because nobody really knows what it means. What in the world is ‘spiritual formation’ and how in the world can anyone direct that process? I think most people probably have a rather unhealthy idea of what it means to be spiritually formed. It’s about spiritual things, heavenly things, notions and ideas that are outside the confines of this world and its problems. However, Jesus was very much concerned about the pain and problems of this world as well as being very much concerned about how we live in this world.

Jesus is often described as fully human and fully divine, but I also think the gospel writers are also trying to show that Jesus is truly human. What I mean is that Jesus’ life and ministry was not about escaping this world to fly off into the great heavenly beyond to sit on a cloud and sing for eternity, but it was about how to live as the true human God created you to be. This isn’t spiritual in the heavenly-leaving-earth-for-the-great-beyond sense, but rather a spirituality that takes seriously this world and interactions with other humans. It’s a process of becoming more human, and growing closer to God as we think about what it means to love those inside and outside of our communities.

Ultimately, I think spiritual formation is a process of seeing God at work in the reality of this world, and a process of seeing how our actions, and the way we spend our time in this world, form us as human beings.

 

 

Prayer of Examen

I’m currently reading a book on Ignatian spirituality written by a Jesuit, Father James Martin. The title is a little embarrassing so I won’t type it out. It’s a good introduction to Jesuit spirituality and the rule of life established by Ignatius.

I’ve learned that Ignatius came to church and faith later in life. At 30 his leg was shattered by a cannonball and he was left left with a rather severe deformity. In order to fit in with current fashions that showed off slender (yet still manly) legs in tights, Ignatius had a painful, cosmetic surgery to remove a bone fragment protruding from his limb. This increased his recovery time, and, looking back on the ordeal, he thought it was a vain decision.

But, it was while recovering from his injury and surgery that Ignatius began to read books on the lives of the saints and the life of Jesus. Before reading these accounts, Ignatius was taken with tales of chivalry and knights coming to the rescue of fair maidens. In the tales of the saints, Ignatius discovered a different kind of honor, one directed towards God. Ignatius went on to establish the Society of Jesus, creating a religious order that refused to withdraw from society but sought a spirituality for the real world of business and school and marriage and life.

At the heart of Ignatian spirituality is the Prayer of Examen. Instead of retreating from this world to the “spiritual” or “ethereal” or “getting lost in prayer,” Ignatius wanted people to think about the ins and outs of their everyday life and look for places where God was working. Here are the five steps to the prayer of Examen:

1. Gratitude: Recall anything from the day for which you are especially grateful, and give thanks.

2. Review: Recall the events of the day, from start to finish, noticing where you felt God’s presence, and where you accepted or turned away from any invitations to grow in love.

3. Sorrow: Recall any actions for which you are sorry.

4. Forgiveness: Ask for God’s forgiveness. Decide whether you want to reconcile with anyone you have hurt.

5. Grace: Ask God for the grace you need for the next day and an ability to see God’s presence more clearly.

Many times I go through life wondering where God is, or if he’s even there. The Prayer of Examen is an opportunity to see God in what’s happened, not what’s happening. Like a ship moving through water and leaving wake, perhaps God’s movement is best found by looking behind, not ahead.

My days are filled with books and classes and people and deadlines, and I don’t want to leave all of that behind when I pray. My fear is that I will go to pray and then return to my classes and family and people and deadlines and leave God behind. The Prayer of Examen helps me to focus on God’s daily provision and gives me hope that those mercies will continue into the next day.

Leaving Church

I read BBT’s Leaving Church in three nights. Her descriptions of faith and people and the ins and outs of ministry play with your mind and imagination. She has the ability to create a longing for another life as well as help you feel that that the life you have is so grand that it’s more than you could ever have asked for. My copy of the book came from the local public library, and I found myself dog-earring pages of the book, something I refrain from doing to even my own books much less one that belongs to the public. I noticed that previous readers had done the same, and I found myself turning down the corners of pages that had already been folded once before, smoothed back leaving  a faint crease. Soon I began to look for these invisible lines. When I found one, I would search the page trying to discover what caught another’s mind. Here are some of my, and Nashville’s, favorite sections.

When discussing the visibility of being a minister, her husband Ed says,

‘You probably won’t be much worse than other people,’ he said, ‘and you certainly won’t be any better, but you will have to let people look at you. You will have to let them see you as you are.’

BBT gives some quotes by Christian mystics on revering God’s “big book” of creation alongside the “little book” of scripture.

‘I have had no other masters than the beeches and the oaks,’ Bernard wrote in the twelfth century, while Julian (of Norwich) recognized the love of God in a hazel nut in her hand. Hildegard of Bingen coined the word viriditas (“green power”) to describe the divine power of creation, while Francis of Assisi composed love songs to Brother Sun and Sister Moon.

You never enjoy the world aright till the sea itself floweth in your veins, till you are clothed with the heavens and crowned with the stars; and percieve yourself to be the sole heir of the whole world, and more so, because men are in it who are every one sole heirs as well as you.  – Travis Traherne

On church people fighting over the Bible,

What I noticed at Grace-Calvary is the same thing I notice whenever people aim to solve their conflicts by turning to the Bible: defending the dried ink marks on the page becomes more vital than defending the neighbor. As a general rule, I would say that human beings never behave more badly toward one another than when they believe they are protecting God.

People of the Book risk putting the book above people.  – Arun Gandhi

On the difference between believing and beholding (‘Behold, I bring you glad tidings of joy…,’ ‘Behold the Lamb of God,’ ‘Behold, I stand at the door and knock…’)

I wanted out of the belief business and back into the beholding business. I wanted to recover the kind of faith that has nothing to do with being sure what I believe and everything to do with trusting God to catch me though I am not sure of anything.

On church,

What if people were invited to come and tell what they already know of God instead of to learn what they are supposed to believe? What if they were blessed for what they are doing in the world instead of chastened for not doing more at church? What if church felt more like a way station than a destination? What if the church’s job were to move people out the door instead of trying to keep them in, by convincing them that God needed them more in the world than in the church?

Like An Unseen Rotting Tree

TreeA couple of weeks ago a storm blew into Nashville. The sky grew dark against the green hills, the winds picked up, the rains came down, all that stuff. It wasn’t long before someone noticed that a rather large section of a tree outside the school had sheared off, tumbling to the ground and making a pretty big mess.

When all of the debris and old limbs were cleared away and ground up into mulch, you could tell that, though the wind and rain might have helped to tear off the section of the tree, there was something else wrong. Inside, the tree was dying. There’s a cavity inside of this tree I could just about climb in. I don’t know what caused this decay, but the wind and rain had exposed the weakness, and the tree will never be the same.

I walk by this tree every now and then and the shame of its rottenness, what it was once able to hide, is now exposed. A couple of weeks ago you would have said that the tree was large and stately and marvelous, now it’s decaying and ugly.

This got me thinking about humans and specifically those young humans who make it into my classroom. Every now and then I’ll hear about something a student is going through at home or in their personal life, and I’ll look at them and wonder if I can tell something is wrong. Usually when I find out there’s a problem, I’m shocked because I couldn’t tell. I wonder what other students are hiding. How many are going through life with everything seemingly together yet dying on the inside?

Many times a beautiful, flowering, fruit-ripe tree is the epitome of spiritual formation. But is the inside as healthy as the outside? Jesus spoke words along these lines to the pharisees and teachers of the law in Matthew 23:

25 “Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You clean the outside of the cup and dish, but inside they are full of greed and self-indulgence. 26 Blind Pharisee! First clean the inside of the cup and dish, and then the outside also will be clean.

27 “Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You are like whitewashed tombs, which look beautiful on the outside but on the inside are full of the bones of the dead and everything unclean. 28 In the same way, on the outside you appear to people as righteous but on the inside you are full of hypocrisy and wickedness.

So, I think I must also think about myself when I see this tree. Am I dying on the inside? What captures my imagination? What do I internalize that’s weakening me? Am I like an unseen rotting tree?

WWTAWWTAG

Reading Rob Bell is like listening to pop music. It’s catchy, fun, and, when you turn it off, you walk around humming it just above a whisper. I’ve read a few of Bell’s books (Velvet Elvis, Sex God, Jesus Wants to Save Christians, Drops Like Stars), and I always get this feeling inside that I have to finish it as quickly as possible. Like it’s a race. I scan from one sentence to the next. You can’t linger over Bell. I don’t really know what this means; it’s just the way I read Bell.

I was surprised to read that Bell’s title was inspired from Haruki Murkami’s memoir What I Talk About When I Talk About Running. I have vivid memories of staying up late at church camp a couple of summers ago and reading that book by the light of my iPhone.

Bell has three talking points when he talks about God. He is With us, For us and Ahead of us.

I don’t really want to lay out those three points. Instead, when I talk about Bell, I want to talk about his use of the “profane”, the cultural vernacular. Bell is pop-theology, and that’s why he can draw such a large audience. He’s relative. He knows culture, high and low, but I’m not sure he distinguishes between the two. I think he sees all of life as this huge playground. He plays, skins his knees, deals with a bully, goes down the slide, climbs across the monkey bars, knowing God is with him, for him and somehow leading him as he plays. If he finds something interesting, he’ll tell you about it, but he doesn’t really care if you find it interesting or if it insults you. He’ll tell you how to define a word in Hebrew and then quote Ricky Bobby. He will make you listen.

I don’t read Bell because he offers great theological insight. I read Bell because Bell reminds me that all this writing and speaking and teaching involves real people in real lives who have other things on their minds and easily get bored and distracted when people talk about God. This isn’t just happening in my head for the sake of me becoming smarter, better, whatever. It’s happening because I want it to get in other people’s heads.

Bell was recently in Nashville speaking at Vanderbilt, and he did a Q&A session at the end of his talk. Someone asked for some advice, and one of the interesting things Bell suggested is that the guy should become a student of culture. I get the sense that this is what’s at the core of Bell’s speaking and writing, culture. I think he does his best to communicate – which, whatever you think about him, he’s pretty darn good at – and then he let’s God take it from there. Really, there’s not much else you can do.