VISIT THE FAITH COMMUNITY CHURCH WEB PAGE

http://fccsobo.org

Wednesday, April 20, 2011

Musings on the Resurrection

The last scene in Mel Gibson’s The Passion of the Christ is nothing if not brief. It lasts all of about two minutes. But those one hundred and twenty seconds, coming as they do on the heels of the betrayal and violence of Jesus’ last few hours on earth, are heavy with meaning.

Sunlight streams into the tomb, cascading down its walls as the stone, just off camera, rolls quietly out of the way. The light lands finally on the linens slowly collapsing on the ledge, no body in place now to fill them out. The camera pauses there and then slowly zooms out to the foot of the ledge, taking in the profile of seated Jesus, eyes closed, face to the light. His eyes open, looking up into the brightness, reflecting recognition, vulnerability. They close again, quiet, composed. Then they reopen, slightly narrowed, focused, horizontal, purposeful. He rises. The camera catches one last fleeting glimpse, the top of a nail scarred hand. Then in one stride he is gone, out of the tomb and into history. The scene is brief but the message is unmistakable. Nothing on earth, not even brutal death, is as it seems.

I spent some time musing on that this week. I hope that you will too. Here is what came to mind. I’d appreciate it if you would share what comes to yours.

The world as we know it, with all of its chaos and confusion, greed and brutality, disaster and tragedy, is not all there is. There is more, so much more goodness and peace, order and kindness, prosperity and joy that in the Apostle Paul’s words, we cannot even begin to imagine it.

The tiny glimpses of Jesus, the moments of spiritual clarity that have come during times of worship and prayer and meditation; the consciousness of the Presence, transcendent power manifesting itself in ultimate stillness as if one were sitting at the foot of the Red Sea watching the fish swim as Moses and the Israelites walked through on dry ground, feeling the weight of the wall of water yet not fearing it; that all of these things have been but the briefest shadow of the magnificent Power that watches over us flitting across the soul. The reality waits on the other side.

The Word of God, with all of its predictions, all of its promises, all of its wisdom and all of its judgments will ultimately be fulfilled to the wonder and awe of all the earth.

I will see Mike again, and Steve and Joseph and Dad.

And we – all of us - will see Jesus no longer, “through a glass, darkly” but face to face, and that will be enough.

Sunday, April 17, 2011

THE PROSTITUTE AND THE PHARISEE

It’s a simple story told in Luke’s characteristically lucid style. Jesus is dining with a Pharisee named Simon. A woman who has obviously heard Jesus’ preaching steps into the room. Her name is not given but it is not needed. Everyone knows her, the town prostitute. But she is not composed, not there to impress or seduce. She is weeping with gratitude, on her knees over the feet of the reclining rabbi from Nazareth, pouring out years of pent-up guilt, little rivers of happiness, down upon his ankles and between his toes. She bends further now and wipes the watery dirt away with her hair. Then she withdraws an alabaster jar of expensive perfume and empties it on his feet, rubbing it in with her hands as the sweet aroma fills the room.

Simon is aghast. The Pharisees were known for their righteousness, their religious purity and high moral character. They were the successful middle class evangelicals of their day. They didn’t hang out with sinful people and didn’t approve of those who did. Scenes like this were too much for such men. “If this man were a prophet, he would know who is touching him and what kind of woman she is…” he groused within.

Jesus heard Simon’s thoughts. He knew exactly what she was, a broken woman who had experienced forgiveness and freedom through her faith. But Jesus also knew something else: exactly what kind of man Simon was, a successful man in need of humility, a man every bit as lost in his pride as the prostitute had been in her immorality. The only difference between the two was that the woman knew her sin and knew she needed a savior. Simon’s success blinded him to both things in his life.

Jesus tells Simon a story of two forgiven debtors, one who owed eighteen months wages and one who owed about two months. “Now which of them will love the forgiving moneylender more?”

Simon can’t help but answer, “I suppose the one who had the bigger debt canceled.”

Then Jesus said the most important thing in the whole story, the thing that reveals who he really is. “Correct!” He looked at the woman. “See this woman? I came to your house yet you have not offered to me the least of common courtesies. But she has not ceased, since the moment I walked in, to show me the greatest love and devotion. Therefore I tell you, her sins which are many have been forgiven, for she loved much. But he who has been forgiven little loves little.”

In other words, “Simon, in the grand scheme of things I’m the lender, I’m the one that everyone is indebted to. I’m God. Your achievements in life and religion matter very little. Your relationship to me is all important.”

And as if to put an exclamation point on it he said to the woman something only God has the authority to say, “Your sins are forgiven. Your faith has saved you; go in peace.”

It isn’t what we’ve done or not done in life that determines our salvation. It isn’t how religious we’ve been or how irreligious. The only thing that matters is our ability to acknowledge our sin to the one who “holds the note” on it and trust him to forgive it. Then every room we enter will be filled with the aroma of our love for him.