Tuesday, April 6, 2010

Why Ignore Comments on Your Posts? -- OS Meta Issue

First published, Open Salon, APRIL 5, 2010 9:22PM
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Note to Blogspot readers: this is a meta post relative to an Open Salon issue.

I wrote on this subject back in January, 2009 and it drew quite a large number of comments, and has had over 2000 page reads, so it is a subject that others here on Open Salon think about.

I have been trying to read OS posts more lately, at least most of the posts that people notify me they have posted, and I find, once again, a large number of people are neglecting comments, raising for me the same question I raised over 14 months ago.

I would like some feedback. I don't expect agreement. But I would really like to know WHY, if we choose to keep comments open, we would take the time to write and then have people take the time to read and comment, but then the writer chooses to not reply to those comments, or choose to reply to a select few and ignore the others, or never bother to come back to the comments on their posts that come after the day it was posted.

This is not an issue if the post really isn't seeking comments but is just seeking approval, where you can comment "I agree. Good post." or something like that.

But when a commenter spends time actually reading and pondering what seems to be a serious post that deserves comment, and writes a sincere comment then for the poster to never reply, or to reply to some comments and totally ignore others seems both strange and impolite to me. Yes, I have done that and so has everyone. But I have never intentionally done it and if someone calls me on it I immediately apologize. I'm not concerned with a mistake. I am concerned with what seems to be a pattern.

At any one time I may have ten bookmarked posts that I go back to see if the poster replied to my comment or any others. I leave those bookmarks up for 3 days. If the poster doesn't comment in that time I delete the bookmark and move on. In recent weeks, about half of the bookmarked posts have had no reply at all from the poster to any comments by anyone, not even a generic "thank you" reply. Others have chosen to respond to a few comments, ignoring other equally serious and thoughtful comments.

What I just don't understand is that if the subject of the post was important enough to take the time to write it wouldn't you think that you wanted to get some comments on it?; and if you didn't want comments or were going to ignore them then why not just close comments immediately when you post?

I am well aware that comments are left open by professional writers on Salon, HuffPo, Newsweek, etc. and those authors seldom reply. But OS is really not filled with paid authors, and, interestingly, those I know here, and there are a few professional writers who write here as a member of this community, and they DO respond to comments. So it is NOT that the professionals don't reply. The vast majority who have blogs here do. They understand that there is a community aspect to OS that implies courtesy and civility when interacting with their readers.

Let's discuss this again now that some time has passed and many new members are posting. Maybe it doesn't happen to you, or you don't care. Whatever your take on this, your serious and considered comment is welcomed.

My hope is that community, courtesy, and civility on OS can remain the standard, and not become the exception.

Monte

716 page views 2010 04 06


Saturday, April 3, 2010

Resurrection Faith: An Easter Reflection (redacted for 2010)

APRIL 3, 2010

PH  Risen Christ
"Christ Triumphant"


This essay, first posted on April 10, 2009, has been extensively revised for 2010. I am posting this Reflection now so there will be time for folks to read it before, on, or after Easter. Let me make the usual disclaimer that this Reflection is written by a Christian for Christians, for those who are on a spiritual quest and are inquiring about the tenets of Christianity, and for all others who may find value in it if it helps them understand Christian belief a bit better.


I would like to focus on a theme that irritated more than a few of my pastor friends when I was still a pastor. Irritation of the clergy, however, considering the lethargy in the Church these days, can only be a good thing.

The point of this Easter essay is simple: Today the Resurrection is the greatest stumbling bloc for many who otherwise would believe in Christ. Christians, and in particular, Christian pastors, are not supposed to admit such a thing, especially on Easter when pastors have a shot at saying easy, comforting things to a lot of people they may not see in church again for months.

I happen to believe that one of the problems with the faith these days, a main problem, is that pastors spend far too much time trying to tell people what they think the people want to hear, what they'll tolerate; and too little time telling them the Gospel truth that they need to hear. But we still need to let God speak to us through the Bible; and we need to listen to what God has to say, comforting or not, even on Easter.


The Resurrection is central to Christian faith. If you are a Christian and you can't at some time in your life before you die, believe that the Resurrection of Jesus Christ is true, then your faith as a Christian is incomplete.

Read the 15th Chapter of Paul's letter to the church at Corinth. It's all laid out there in black and white. And it's very clear. Even if you haven't picked up a Bible in years, you'll get it.

I need to say right here that there are places in the Bible that imply that God will eventually gather to himself all people who ever lived. That idea is called "universal salvation." A surprising number of Christians believe in it. I am never willing to say that I know the limits of God's mercy and grace. Our God is a God of mercy and love, and of second chances, so perhaps everyone will eventually get to share the good side of eternal life. I simply do not know if that is true or not.

But it is very clear that to be a Christian is to believe that Christ was raised. That being so, Christians need to understand that they achieve salvation through believing in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus, along with a few other basics. There aren't all that many basics, but belief in the resurrection is fundamental.

So, for the Christian, if Jesus be not raised, then he died a fool on the Cross, for nothing. And we are fools as well, for we have put our faith in a fool. But if, as I believe to be true, God raised him from the grave; if he ascended into heaven, there to reign at the right hand of God, there to intercede for us, then we too, through faith in him, shall be raised to live in glory with him, at the Last Day.

It's really as simple, and as difficult, as that. That is our proclamation as Christians. That is our faith. It is what we believe. It is by that faith that we live. And it is in that faith that we die, knowing that we shall be raised to be with him.


Many in St. Paul's time did not think it impossible for God to raise someone from the grave. Most Jews had begun to believe that it was possible; and the gentiles had already heard numerous stories of Greek and Roman gods raising people from death. It was already part of Persian religious culture as well.

So while many still questioned the idea, including some in the church in Corinth, the idea of resurrection was not entirely foreign to people in Paul's day.

Today it is different. And many modern Christians doubt the resurrection of Jesus. Why is that? I think that, in our rush to judge the Bible and its claims by the standards of modern science, many have found those claims wanting.

And, having been attacked by the skepticism of science, both from within the Church and from outside it, we Christians have too often tried very unsuccessful ways to defend the faith. The two main unsuccessful ways of defending the faith have been by (1) rationalization and (2) believing we were defending it according to scientific methods.


In the mainline churches, like those I have belonged to, pastors have mostly tried to rationalize their way around the more controversial aspects of the faith. Many pastors say that there are perfectly logical explanations for the miracles; they choose which miracles to preach on, preferring the ones that we can attribute to psychological illness, or that we can explain by some quirky natural phenomena.

Many pastors also argue, in this case correctly, that many things in the Bible are actually metaphors rather than "fact." I have no trouble with that. Many things written in the Bible are metaphoric, not to be interpreted literally. But many are not metaphoric, and the resurrection of Jesus is one that is not.

This timidity which results in running for cover through rationalization and metaphor is caused by one thing: The challenge of the modern scientific mind. If our beliefs can't stand the rigors of scientific testing, then many Christians, including Christian leaders, think they have to be rationalized, or seen as not literal but metaphoric.

But in each case we have succumbed to the temptation to justify our faith because we are afraid of a challenge from those who insist on viewing the faith through the eyes of science. And in so doing we have forgotten what faith means in the first place. (We'll come back to what faith means in a moment. But, for now, let's relate our problem to the Resurrection of Jesus.)

But the Resurrection is one miracle that Christians can't effectively rationalize away. And the metaphors for resurrection, while often beautiful: butterflies emerging, the sunrise, new growth in spring, a rebirth after a long and cold winter, are hardly a satisfactory explanation of what is written clearly in all four Gospels.

Opponents can and do deny it, debunk it, ridicule it and ignore it. But even the best Christian can't rationalize it, short of agreeing that it never happened. And when that happens we have just given the faith away.


So, oddly, sadly, Christians who should know better also try to justify the Resurrection scientifically. That well traveled road is particularly popular with evangelicals, which has always struck me as odd since they are the ones most likely to have a literal interpretation of the Bible. Having that, they are far more vulnerable to scientific type scrutiny than are mainline or liberal Christians.

On Easter Sunday there are foolish claims being made from pulpits all over the world that the empty tomb "proves" the Resurrection; and other "proofs" will be alleged as well. Thousands of books have been written on the "proofs" of the Resurrection.

And arguments will be made that these proofs are just as exacting a proof of a literal fact as any scientific experiment might yield. Actually, some of them are very excellent arguments that the Resurrection makes sense. But to argue that their case is the same as scientific proof is only to show an abysmal lack of understanding of the scientific method.

So, ultimately, this is a exercise in futility. It may make us feel good. I've read many of those books, heard those sermons. But those arguments will not, can not, sway the rational mind bent on seeing "proof of the Resurrection" in a scientific sense.

The truth is that no one can "prove" the Resurrection in a scientific, empirical sense. No one. After all, nobody saw the Resurrection. And, to the scientific mind that will always be the final stumbling block to "proving" the Resurrection. The very foundation of science is built on repeatable empirical events. Not only has the Resurrection never yet been repeated by anyone, but the first event was witnessed by no human.


The early church, in many ways much smarter than today's church, made no attempt to "prove" it by worldly tests. Instead they proclaimed it to be true. They knew it was true! Why? Because they believed it. They believed the eye witness testimony of those who saw the Risen Christ.

Their key to faith was to accept the kerygma, the proclamation, of the Gospels when it was proclaimed by believers like Peter, Paul, Timothy, James, John and the others. It is still the key to Christian faith today.

Knowing this, we can come back now to the issue of "faith." The test the early Christians applied to the Resurrection was not a test of science, but the test of faith. But many Christians today cannot actually tell you what faith is. The Bible tells us; but we tend not to look there for a definition even though that is where the best definitions are found.

Traditionally, Christians have believed the Resurrection is true because the Bible says it is true. They didn't look for definitions in the Bible because if the Bible said it, then they believed it.

We still believe that the Bible is the inspired witness to the Word, Jesus Christ. Some Christians even call the Bible the Word of God. That is a title I reserve for Jesus, but either way the Bible is seen as a Holy Book, not just another best seller.

Today Christians believe the Resurrection is true because witnesses they trust said that they saw the Risen Lord. And, most of all, they believe it is true because, believing it, they see the living Lord operating in their own lives and in the lives of their fellow Christians. In other words, they have faith.


What is faith? In Hebrews 11 we are told that faith "is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen." That sentence is worth reading over and over until we understand it.

Paul tells us in Romans 1 that "the righteousness of God is revealed through faith"; and in Romans 3 he says that we are justified, made holy, by grace, through faith. In Romans 10 he tells us that faith comes from what is "heard," and that what is heard comes to us through "the word of Christ." In 1st Timothy Paul speaks of "the faith," our faith, as a "mystery," and John, in Revelation, calls for us to endure and to hold fast to faith in Jesus.

Faith is one of the most common words in the New Testament, and nowhere is it described as something that comes from empirical knowledge. Faith comes from the grace of God. It is a gift. It is not, and cannot be, earned, or found through study, or demanded because we have gone through all the right motions.

It is intuitive. It is felt. It is a product of the Holy Spirit acting on our hearts. It rises above mere words. It is, repeating Hebrews once more, "the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen." And it is not, and can not be, subject to scientific "proof."

The bottom line for me is simple. I believe that the Resurrection is true. It is a truth I know by faith. A wise saint, Anselm, said that theology (the study of God) is "fides quaerens intellectum," "faith seeking understanding."

As one who spent much of my life as a Christian, yet one trying to find the truth the other way around (If I can just understand, I'll have faith!) I can tell you that it won't work that way. First, have faith. Then study and learn, seeking understanding. And understanding will flood in once the faith is yours.


Because of my faith, the Resurrection of Jesus is not a stumbling block in my life today. For many years it was; for I was a Christian lay person lead by well-meaning pastors and teachers down the path of rationalization. But I couldn't get there from here.

And I also felt indicted by other well meaning pastors and teachers when I could not see what they said was so obvious: that they had proven some event in the Bible scientifically. Yet it was so clear to me that they failed, in spite of their fervor.

And the effect of being whiplashed between those two positions was that I felt terribly inadequate. I felt that since these were learned leaders in the church something must be fundamentally wrong with me, and I feared that I could never be a proper Christian.

Today, I know the Resurrection is true by faith. And the Bible tells me that God's grace, through my faith, is sufficient for me to feel firm in my knowledge of Christianity and of my salvation.


Perhaps some of you Christians have gone down a path similar to mine. And perhaps you are still struggling with others who try to "prove" the Resurrection to you by "scientific" explanations, or to rationalize it away. If so, I know the sense of feeling that you are somehow considered less of a Christian than those who seem so cocksure about their faith.

But, if you feel that way, I need to tell you that there is nothing wrong with you. And there is a better way for you to go than either of those well-traveled roads which only lead us away from faith.

The better way is simply to ask Christ for faith. I know it sounds too simple. But I did it and kept doing it for years and then one day it dawned on me that I believed the things I had doubts about before.

There was no lightening bolt, no obvious time when I felt I was different. It was more like I just woke up one morning and everything fell into place. I didn't dance or run down the street screaming about the change in me. Rather I felt a peace and a certainty that I cannot describe. A peace that told me that my faith was real.


My prayer for Christians or seekers who struggle with the truths of the faith is that they will invite Jesus into their hearts and ask him to give them faith. If the Resurrection is a stumbling block for you, tell him that. He will listen and he can give you faith. You can't create it in yourself. You can't study or read your way to it. But Jesus can create it in your heart if you ask for it.

Do you remember the story in Mark of the man who brought his child to Jesus for healing, a child with an evil spirit in him? And he asked Jesus that, if Jesus were able to do anything, would he have pity on his boy and help him? And Jesus said "All things can be done for the one who believes."

And the man, overcome with love for his son and at his wits end, said what so many of us need to say to Jesus, yet we are afraid to mouth the words: "Lord, I believe. Help my unbelief!" We have all been at that place at some point in our lives. If the Resurrection is a stumbling block, the prayer of that man is the prayer we need to say.


I hope that this Easter Reflection has resonated with you and has opened up new avenues to how you might approach the Resurrection of Jesus, the Christ. The key to feeling the wonder and grace of the Resurrection is to have Resurrection Faith.

To my Christian friends I say: May this Easter be for each of you a day of wonder, of mystery, of love and of joy, a day of faith in the one who rose from the dead, who ascended to heaven and even now sits at the right hand of God and mediates and advocates for us, who promises to each who believe in him everlasting life: our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.

To those are searching for faith of any kind, I say do not be discouraged, but allow yourself the peace of knowing that faith cannot be gained through study but by opening ourselves, our hearts, our minds, our spirit, allowing them to become vessels of truth. Most often I have found that it is in the calm center of the storm that rages around us that the truth comes to us.

To those who have chosen no spiritual path I say that I hope that this reflection gives you a better understanding of how Christians think about the Resurrection, and of how I believe that the only way that Christians can see the Resurrection and believe its truth is through the eyes of faith. I hope that each of you have found a peace and understanding that you find nourishes your own well being and allows you to reach out to others in love.

To all I pray that your lives will be full of love for yourselves and for others so that we may reach out in love to all who need a touch, a word, an act of kindness, or simply the ministry of our presence in their lives.

Happy Easter, everyone!

Monte



Original post: 2412 page views 2010 04 03

Monday, March 29, 2010

"I Crucified You," A Good Friday Reflection, Edited for 2010

Originally published, Open Salon, MARCH 29, 2010

"I Crucified You," A Good Friday Reflection, Edited for 2010


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Note to Readers: This essay was first posted on April 8, 2009. I am posting this edited version now so there will be plenty of time for folks to read it before Good Friday, the 2nd of April. Let me make the usual disclaimer that this is written by a Christian for Christians, for those who are on a spiritual quest and are inquiring about the tenets of Christianity, and for all others who may find value in it if it helps them understand Christian belief a bit better.

Faith is a given in this Reflection. Therefore, there is no intention here to carry on dialogues about the validity of faith, the "reality" of events depicted, or a general discussion of the merits of faith, or the lack thereof. Such discussions abound on other blogs.


It is my belief that Christians belong at the foot of the Cross on Good Friday. But it isn't the place where most people want to spend much time, and so Good Friday is also a time when most modern Protestant Churches do not even have services.

This phenomena of mass avoidance of Good Friday and spending time at the Cross is not all that new. In fact, the Bible tells us that most of the disciples were nowhere near the Cross when Jesus died.

Only His mother and the beloved disciple appear to have been close enough to actually hear him from the Cross, and that is told to us in only one of the four Gospels. There were some women who were his followers watching from a distance, and in one of the Gospels some of the disciples were said to be with them.

As for the inner core of believers, the ones who would become known as the apostles, most had gone into hiding, fearing that they would be subject to the same fate if they ventured out.

Peter had already denied three times that he even knew Jesus, let alone that he was Jesus' disciple. Peter did that even before he knew that Jesus would be sentenced to death.

The foot of the Cross may not be a comfortable place for a believer. But a believer should be there, comfortable or not. And that is the rub. We do not like discomfort.

But, if we view it, as many Christians today do, as simply "history," as something that happened long ago, an evil deed perpetrated by others, then while we would not want to waste our time at the Cross, it would not bother us much if we did.

Most Christians are not so callous, and believe that this was a legal murder, this crucifixion, an evil deed perpetrated long, long ago by others. But along with that belief is the unstated idea the his crucifixion has little to nothing to do with us who were born 2000 years later.

They see us as benefiting from his sacrifice on the Cross. But they do not see us as having any role in his death.

After all, didn't Jesus say, quite clearly, from the Cross, "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do?" Yes, he did. Even the most Biblically illiterate Christian knows that much. "Father, forgive them" is exactly what he said.

Hearing that, what should we think? Well, one of the things many Christians have been thinking about for 2000 years is trying to identify just who "them" is. The irony in that, of course, is that Christianity has spent 2000 years concentrating so hard on trying to decide who "them" is, that the true point of his forgiveness is lost on many of us.

Many of us cannot understand the implications of the prayer of forgiveness made by Jesus from the Cross because it never occurs to us that it might be directed at us. After all, Jesus says it is directed at "them," the ones who were killing Him. And that was 2000 years ago!

In our subconscious obsession with distancing ourselves from the Cross even faithful Christians have sought to define "them" as almost anyone other than "us." It takes a courageous Christian to hold a mirror to his face and admit, "Them is me!"

Through the centuries many Christians have never actually come to grips with the truth that it is our sin for which he died. Not just for the sin of those who lived back then, but for the sins of the entire world, past, present and future.

The Bible is crystal clear that Jesus came to save not just some people at some particular time and place but to save all people at all times and in all places. And Jesus' prayer from the Cross confirms that when we understand that we are included in those for whom Jesus asked forgiveness.

But, as a result of our failure to see our own sin, we have, over the centuries, looked for and found scapegoats: the Romans, Pilate, the Sanhedrin, the Pharisees, the Saducees, the Chief Priests. But, mostly, Christianity has thrown a blanket indictment over one entire people, "The Jews!"

This tragic failure at introspection lead, in the middle of the last century, to the greatest holocaust that the world has ever known. And even today it leads to ungodly prejudice and anti-Semitism, spewing bile-filled hatred at the people God called "chosen."

The Jews were chosen by God not for themselves alone, but because they believed in the one God who blessed them so that they could be a blessing to all people. They were clearly chosen not for themselves alone but to bless the nations of the world in God's name. Most anti-Semites conveniently overlook that fact.

Our Jewish Messiah, the one we call the Christ, this Jesus of Nazareth, a simple Jewish rabbi, this Savior we Christians worship, did not blame the Jews. Nor did he condemn Pilate, or the Romans, or the Chief Priests, or any single individual or group.

He could have condemned them all. In his place I imagine that we would condemn lots of people. But he said, plainly and clearly, "Father, forgive them."

Yet, to the shame of the Church, we have too often indulged ourselves in our fear of facing the Cross. We have feared looking into the mirror and having to say, "Oh My Lord Jesus, I crucified you!"

Thankfully, a few Christians have thought it through, have figured out that Jesus died for the sins of all of us, have understood that we, in every generation, crucify Jesus by our sin.

Listen to the words of the great 17th century hymnist, Johann Heermann, in his anthem of confession, "Ah, Holy Jesus" written at a time of great tribulation, during the Thirty Years War.

Ah, holy Jesus, how hast Thou offended,
That man to judge Thee hath in hate pretended?
By foes derided, by Thine own rejected,
O most afflicted.

Who was the guilty- Who brought this upon Thee?
Alas, my treason, Jesus, hath undone Thee.
'Twas I, Lord, Jesus, I it was denied Thee!
I crucified Thee.

For me, kind Jesus, was Thine incarnation,
Thy mortal sorrow, and Thy life's oblation;
Thy death of anguish and Thy bitter passion,
For my salvation.

Lo, the Good Shepherd for the sheep is offered;
The slave hath sinned, and the Son hath suffered;
For our atonement, while he nothing heedeth,
God intercedeth.

Therefore, kind Jesus, since I cannot pay Thee,
I do adore Thee, and will ever pray Thee,
Think on Thy pity and Thy love unswerving,
Not my deserving.

We don't sing that song very much in most Churches any more. And in the churches that do, the words are often translated quite differently, intentionally softened, taking the sting of our guilt out of the song.

Why do you suppose that is? Does it hit too close to home? I can come up with no other answer than, "Yes. It hits too close to home. And there is no need to make us uncomfortable right before the hope and beauty of Easter Sunday."

But, unless we Christians can gather at the foot of the Cross of Jesus, and say with the hymnist, "I Crucified You," then we will never be able to feel the power of the Cross. We will not be able to feel the pain Jesus felt on that cross, nor, more importantly, the love he offered to us.

Guilt is not something modern folk like to talk about. Nor is pain. Nor is forgiveness that comes to us through pain. And so, increasingly, much of the Protestant Church today flies through Palm Sunday and skips to Easter Sunday with only a small bow in the direction of the Cross.


One thing I am pleased with in the Moravian Church that I served for the during the last five years of my ministry is the Moravians still hold with the old idea that Holy Week means something.

And so Holy Week Readings are held each evening, up to and including Good Friday, consisting of readings from the Gospels and singing hymns that pull us into an understanding of our participation in the events leading to and ending in the crucifixion. When we, as was that local congregation's practice, ended the Holy Week Readings on Maundy Thursday, I added a Good Friday evening Prayer Vigil. But that was sparcely attended.

The United Church of Christ, in which I was ordained, took a different tack in order to recognize the avoidance of the Cross by calling Palm Sunday "Palm/Passion Sunday." And I always included a Chancel Drama at the end of the Palm Sunday service that included the congregation having a part in the reenactment of the Passion according to St. Matthew.

I continued this at the Moravian church which I served. It helped, but it was not a true substitute for an actual service of prayer and introspection on Good Friday evening.


On that Cross of pain, Jesus, the one we call the Christ, the Messiah, offered us forgiveness of our sin. If we could begin, this Good Friday, to feel the guilt, to comprehend the pain, to sense the love of Christ for us, then we may be privileged to understand the real meaning of his offer of grace.

"Father, forgive them" is a singular act of grace offered to us, once, for all, by one who hung on a Cross and loved us enough to forgive us.

"Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do" is a prayer. Never forget that. It was Jesus' prayer to the One who could grant forgiveness for the sake of His Son. And God heard Jesus' prayer.

Christians believe that, by the resurrection of Jesus, the one who loves us enough to forgive us, God, does, in fact, forgive us. By raising Jesus, God reconciles us to Himself.

I have always thought the name "Good" Friday is such an bittersweet name to attach to the day of crucifixion. Bitter in the pain and ultimate sacrifice of the Son of God. But sweet in the fruit of that sacrifice.

Through his Cross, Jesus offers a special grace to those who believe in him. That grace is that they shall not perish but shall have everlasting life.

My Good Friday prayer for myself and for all who call themselves Christians is "Father, forgive us, for we know now what we did."

May all of you, my dear friends, find peace and love, hope and joy, not only in this Christian Holy Week and at Easter, but always -- whatever your belief may be, or whether you do not believe at all.

Monte

Original posting: 2161 page views as of 2010 03 29
This posting for 2010:





Friday, March 26, 2010

Death of the Messiah, Part 4, Luke's Gospel, for 2010

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NOTE TO READERS: This Lenten essay was originally published on Open Salon, March 16, 2009. It is part of my Christian Calendar Series. I have edited it for 2010, clarifying certain points and improving the flow of the text.

Christian liturgy, ritual and most of Christian theology change little from year to year. The reason for the Christian Calendar is to encourage Christians to rehearse, ponder and reflect on, year after year, the life, death and resurrection of Jesus, the Christ, so that His life becomes part and parcel of our family history.

The story of Christ changes little, but we, His disciple, change and grow, become ill, or face death, our own or a loved one's, and in so doing we come each year to view the events of Christ and the traditions of His Church through different eyes.

Hopefully, what I write in this series will have a certain timelessness, updated slightly each year to improve clarity and thereby open more deeply our understanding of aspects of the events celebrated during the Christian Year.

This Lenten essay for 2010 lays out some basic parameters of orthodox Christian belief. What is written here are my own beliefs, which are widely shared by Christians in most mainline Protestant denominations and in the Roman and Orthodox Catholic denominations in the United States as being fundamental to Christian faith
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Note: Links to the first three posts in this Lenten series can be found in the left column of this page under the MY LINKS, The Christian Calendar Series.

The Death of the Messiah, Part 4: Luke's Gospel:
Jesus: "Caring, Compassionate and Concerned"


Overview:

In Part One I introduced this series on The Death of the Messiah. I pointed out that, while we may think there is only one story of the death of the Messiah, repeated four times, in fact there are four different renditions of the story of Jesus' death, both in the details and in the portrait of Jesus presented. I also said that there is also a fifth rendition: the one that we create from the other four.

I explained that I believe that these Gospel stories were divinely inspired and God was therefore both mindful of the inconsistencies in the stories, and intentional in his/her inspiration, in that God wants us to be able to see Jesus' death from four unique vantage points.

Therefore, we do not improve on the Gospel accounts by trying to harmonize them, regardless how tempting it is to try to do so. Ultimately, all attempts at harmonizing the Gospels fail and never give a true picture of what God is saying to us in those sacred texts.

This fact, however, gives ulcers to many who believe that the stories of Jesus must all be clear, concise, neat and without factual disagreement.

Part of the problem for such people is that they insist on viewing the Gospels as history, which they are not. They are theology told in narratives, stories, and are kerygma, proclamation of the Good News of Jesus the Christ.

In Part Two, using two major examples of the differences in three of the Gospel accounts of the Death of the Messiah, we explored my contention that it is good to have four differing Gospel accounts.

Having four different depictions of both the narratives of the stories and then seeing how Jesus reacts to essentially the same events allows us to see that Jesus is a far more complex character than the portrait we often hold of him.

In Part Three we looked in some detail at Mark's Gospel portrayal of Jesus and of the events leading up to his Crucifixion.

Mark, the earliest Gospel written, portrays a very human, very vulnerable Jesus. His portrayal of Jesus, the disciples, and all of the actors in this drama of death, shows people in all of their human frailty, in their evil plotting and their despicable actions. In the end, Mark shows that we all, even Jesus, have no choice but to depend on God.

Today, with Part Four, we finish this series of Lenten Reflections looking at the very different portrayal of Jesus and the events leading to his crucifixion in the Gospel according to Luke.


Luke's Portrayal

Luke wants us to see a Jesus who is at once aware of his approaching death, but also who clearly worries about others far more than he worries about his own fate. Luke's Jesus is "Caring, Compassionate and Concerned" about others.

Just as we have not looked at Matthew because its basic portrayal of Jesus is similar to Mark's, so too we will not look at John because it is so very different than the three "synoptic" Gospel accounts (Mark, Luke and Matthew), that it would take a whole new series to explain it.

Thus, as we now come to the end of this series, we have learned that each of the four Gospel accounts paint a part of Jesus that appeals to different people, and even to the same person at different stages in his or her life.

The genius of the Gospel accounts of the Death of the Messiah is not that they agree in the details but rather in that they give four different, yet surprisingly clear, portraits of the Messiah that help to broaden our understanding of him.


Luke clearly relies heavily on Mark, but many of the details are different. While Luke shares another common written source with Matthew, called simply "Q," Luke also clearly has his own sources of information which have been handed down by eyewitnesses and others over the decades since the crucifixion. These sources were unknown to Mark.

Molding at least three sources into a coherent Gospel is clearly a task of great importance to Luke. He tells us in the opening of his Gospel that he desires to "write an orderly account" of the events of Jesus' life, that we might know the truth concerning the good news of Jesus Christ. Luke makes it clear right at the beginning that he is writing theology, not history.

And it is clear when reading Luke and comparing his account of the Death of the Messiah with the other gospels that Luke has a different theological agenda than any of the other three.

Luke wants us to see a Christ who is at once aware of his approaching death, but also a Christ who clearly worries about others far more than he worries about his own fate.

In order to really understand Luke's portrait of Jesus' death it is necessary for us to remember that Luke is a consistent writer. He wrote not only his Gospel account of Jesus but also the only deliberate account of the very early church, which we know as the Book of the Acts of the Apostles. The Book of Acts flows seamlessly from the final scenes of the Resurrection at the end of his Gospel.


Nothing about Luke's reporting of the Death of the Messiah is inconsistent with what he has told us about Jesus, his disciples, and the Christian community as reported in both his Gospel and in his Acts of the Apostles.

Thus, in Luke, the Jesus who is accused by the Jewish leaders of "perverting our nation" is the same Jesus whose infancy and upbringing was in total fidelity to the Law of Moses. The Jesus who is accused of "forbidding us to give tribute to Caesar" is the Jesus who has declared the opposite, to "render unto Caesar the things that are Caesar's".

These, and other incidents in his life prior to his arrest, highlight a major theme in Luke's description of the Passion: that Jesus is totally misunderstood by all authorities, is innocent and is unjustly accused and killed.

Likewise, the Jesus who shows such great concern and compassion for others during his Passion is the same Jesus who is already compassionate; showing concern for the widow of Nain and praising in parables the mercy shown by the father to the prodigal son and to the man beset by thieves on the way to Jericho, in the story we call the "Good Samaritan."

Thus, we should not be surprised by the Jesus who shows forgiveness toward those who crucified him.

When we are told by Luke that, after the Temptation, Satan leaves Jesus, "until an opportune time," we should not be surprised that Luke writes that Satan returns to inhabit Judas, his betrayer at the end of Jesus' life.

In Luke it is much more than personal greed and sin that motivates Judas, it is the work of the Devil himself. Luke is so clear about this that one could argue that Judas was innocent of any sin, because, literally, "the devil made him do it."


Unlike Mark, who emphasizes the dullness and failures of the disciples, Luke finds them attentive and trying to learn, if stumbling from time to time. Luke, for example, never mentions that the disciples fled at the time of trial. In fact, while not at the cross itself, Luke places them, with the women, waiting and watching in the distance.

Nor will they flee after his death and head for home in Galilee as in the other Gospels, but they will await his return in Jerusalem, where Jesus will appear as the Risen Christ. And later, apostles who are derided in Mark and Matthew will appear as major Christian leaders in the Book of Acts.

Even the way Jesus behaves during his passion will set the example for how others will behave in the future, as first Stephen, and later Paul, endure the same cast of adversaries and will respond in the same way when their time comes to bear their crosses. Luke clearly shows this in the Book of Acts.

Therefore, there is a smooth consistency in doing the will of God throughout Jesus' life, death and resurrection, and, ultimately, even by the early Church after Jesus has ascended to God. This consistency in showing the achieving of God's purposes, first through Jesus and then through the Church, is a major theme in Luke's work.


Looking at the Passion itself we see that the scene of prayer and arrest at Gesthemene as described in Luke is far less dramatic and suspenseful when it comes to the actions of the disciples. No words of rebuke are spoken to them.

In fact, just the opposite, for at the Last Supper Jesus has already told them, "You are those who continued with me in my trials." And Jesus has already assured them of a leadership place in Heaven, including responsibilities for judgment of the twelve tribes of Israel.

Therefore, we can not imagine that the disciples will fall away at this late date; and they do not. Even at Gesthemene he does not separate Himself far from them, going only "a stone's throw away" to pray.

Luke describes them as sleeping while Jesus prays, but not falling asleep three times after being admonished to stay awake. Rather they sleep but once, and then only "out of sorrow."

And, when Jesus finds them sleeping he does not harshly rebuke them but shows his concern for them, telling them to get up and pray that they may not come into their own time of trial.

Thus, the drama of the scene focuses not on disloyal or cowardly disciples but on the actions of Jesus, which are caring and compassionate, and thus quite different than those described in Mark.


Unlike in Mark, this Jesus is not one whose soul is sorrowful unto death. Rather, on his knees he prays in subordination to the will of the Father. And, in Luke, that prayer does not go unanswered, for the Father sends an angel to give him strength.

This brings what has been translated into English as "agony" or "anguish" and great drops of sweat like blood fall from him. But for centuries Christians have greatly misinterpreted this dramatic scene because of poorly translating the Greek word, "agonia."

It means the great preparatory tension of an athlete warming up for a great contest. It does not mean fear or pain, as it is often misinterpreted. The angel has given him strength, not weakness.

And, at the arrest, Jesus is very calm; a calmness that bespeaks a foreknowledge on the part of Jesus of what is going to happen. He addresses Judas by name and is in no way surprised to find him here betraying him.

When the slave's ear is cut off by one of the disciples, Jesus, again showing compassion, heals him, and tells the disciples, "No more of this!" As he has shown compassion to his enemies throughout his ministry, so he shows compassion here.

Jesus knows exactly what is happening and, having been strengthened by the angel, is intent on carrying out what he knows to be the will of the Father.


The struggle is great but Jesus is up to the task. The Devil himself occupies Judas, and no underlings come alone to arrest him as in Mark, but rather the chief priests and elders themselves lead the Temple police.

Jesus knows the evil in this, telling them that this is "their" hour, a time of the power of darkness. Yet he also knows that he will overcome it.

As in Mark they arrest Jesus at night. But they take him not to the Chambers of the Sanhedrin but to the High Priest's house, or perhaps the courtyard of that house. (The Greek wording is ambiguous.)

In any case, Luke does not identify to which High Priest the house belonged. Nor is there any Sanhedrin trial that night as in Mark, but rather they hold him there, beating him and mocking him, but not asking him any significant questions.

For Luke the highlight of the evening focuses on Peter who has followed him and, as in Mark, denies him three times. Unlike Mark, however, Luke adds a poignant note: "The Lord turned and looked at Peter." Thus Jesus here makes eye contact with Peter, and it was then that Peter remembered Jesus' prediction and felt the shame of his betrayal.

This dramatic look is found only in Luke, and is symbolic of Jesus' continuing care for Peter, as he promised the disciples at the Last Supper. They may deny him but he will always be there for them.

When it is day they lead him to the Sanhedrin Council Chambers and question him. Unlike in Mark, Jesus answers ambiguously, but they read enough into his replies to decide to bring him before Pilate.

Unlike in Mark and Matthew, there is no formal Sanhedrin trial; it is simply an interrogation. There are no witnesses called, false or otherwise, and there are no condemnations issued by the Sanhedrin. All they say is that they have heard enough to take him to Pilate.

Here the Sanhedrin acts as prosecutor and inquisitor, not as judge. In Luke there is but one trial and that is before Pilate.


Through it all Jesus is calm and self-composed. He is not like the majestically supreme Jesus portrayed in John's gospel, but rather he exhibits the serenity of one secure in the knowledge that God is in charge, and he is content in the knowledge that he is wholly innocent.

He is prepared to go to his death, if necessary, knowing that he has an unbreakable union with the Father.

Luke gives us many more details of the trial before Pilate than do Mark and Matthew. The chief priests and scribes make more numerous accusations against Jesus than in the other synoptic Gospels, including both religious and political claims.

And, as Luke describes in Acts, Paul will later encounter an almost identical sequence of actors, issues and events in his trials. Thus, an important point is made in Luke: the tone for the bearing of later Christian crosses by faithful disciples is set by Jesus here.


Pilate comes off well in Luke, even if he is ultimately weak, finally giving in to the demands of the crowd, led here by the chief priests and other Jewish leaders. Initially, having heard their complaints, Pilate tells them that he has examined the charges against Jesus and that he finds Jesus guilty of none of them.

Then, hearing that Jesus is a Galilean, he sends Jesus off to Herod, Tetrarch of Galilee, who is in town for the Passover. This sidebar is only present in Luke.

Herod, oddly, is glad to see Jesus because he has heard of him and wants to see some "sign" from him. Jesus does not oblige; and while the chief priests continue to accuse him before Herod, just as they had before Pilate, Herod finds, as did Pilate, nothing against Jesus.

But Herod is miffed at Jesus' silence, so he mocks Jesus by placing an elegant robe on him, and then returns him to Pilate.

Luke tells us that, ironically, from that day forward Pilate and Herod, heretofore enemies, became friends. Thus, even while under such great duress Jesus is seen to be able to influence the healing of relationships, simply by his presence, even between those who mistreat him.


It is in this final series of scenes of the Death of the Messiah where Luke's account is even more radically different than any of the other three Gospel accounts.

Once again Pilate examines the charges against Jesus, and, once again, tells the Jewish leaders that neither he nor Herod find Jesus guilty of any of the charges. And Pilate boldly tells them that "Indeed, he has done nothing to deserve death." Pilate then proposes to have Jesus flogged and released.

All of the accusers, not just the crowd as in Mark, but the chief priests, other Jewish leaders and the people, shout to do away with Jesus and to release Barabbas.

Luke tells us that Pilate, wanting to release Jesus, addresses them a second and third time, telling them Jesus is not guilty. However, Luke then tells us that Pilate caves in to the accusers, and "their voices prevailed."

Because Luke contains no scene in Pilate's courtyard of Roman soldiers beating and mocking Jesus, the implication in Luke is that Pilate handed over Jesus to the Jewish leaders who take him to Calvary and crucify him.

Later, however, we hear that soldiers along with the leaders also mocked him while he was on the Cross. So, regardless who led Jesus to Golgatha, Roman soldiers were present at his death.


What is far more clear, and clearly different than Mark and Matthew, is that the people who followed Jesus to his crucifixion included a great many who were not hostile to him, particularly women, who were lamenting what was happening to him by beating their breasts and wailing over his fate.

To these Jesus shows great compassion, warning these "daughters of Jerusalem" of the coming trials, telling them not to weep for him, but for themselves.

[Note: This scene is likely influenced by Luke's anachronistic knowledge that Jerusalem was destroyed in the period 68-70 AD when the Romans quelled a Jewish rebellion. At that time many innocents, women and children, were killed, and many Christians fled the persecution in the city. Luke already knew of that event when wrote his Gospel.]

Regardless, Jesus remains calm and concerned for others. Unlike in Mark, the first words uttered by Jesus from the cross are not of his feared abandonment, but rather, "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do."

There is a strong implication here that the Jewish leaders acted out of ignorance, not with deliberate evil and viciousness, as in the other New Testament traditions. Clearly, as Luke describes them, they were ignorant of who Jesus was and this shows how far Jesus is willing to go to find forgiveness of his enemies.

This is a far more humane treatment of the Jewish leaders than in the other Gospels, and is a clear directive to later Christians to be gracious toward, and forgiving of, our worst enemies; something that most find nearly impossible to imagine let alone to do.

In Acts, Stephen will find strength and hope in repeating Jesus' thoughts, praying as he died under their stones, "Lord, do not hold this sin against them."

And still later, thousands of Christian martyrs will go to their death finding courage in these words from the Cross.


In another major departure from Mark and Matthew, both criminals do not mock him from their crosses. Rather, one of the two thieves acknowledges his own guilt and confesses the innocence of Jesus.

This "good thief" as we often call him, asks to be remembered by Jesus when he comes into his kingdom. And, still filled with compassion, Jesus does him far better than that, promising him that he will be with Jesus in Paradise yet that day.

Many have said that, because of the compassion of Luke's Christ, the "good thief," who offered no confession of his sin nor made any profession of faith, literally stole the keys to the Kingdom. That old saw is not far from the truth.

In the last, dark, hours of Jesus life he does not lose confidence. He does not, as in Mark and Matthew, feel abandoned by the Father. Rather he is calm and at peace, secure in his knowledge of the goodness and justice of the Father.

There is no agony recorded, only the confident giving of his life over to the Father, even as he has given his life to others throughout his ministry. Jesus dies saying, "Father, into your hands I commend my spirit."

Just as the words of forgiveness have given many a martyr courage in their own deaths, so to have these words of confident trust in God given hope not only to martyrs but also to many ordinary Christians at the time of their death.


Luke, unlike the other writers, places the tearing of the curtain of the Temple in two before the death of Jesus. After his death Luke will record only acts of heavenly grace, not justice or retribution.

And, if the innocence of Jesus has not been clear enough for all who read Luke, at the foot of the cross the Roman Centurion says not that Jesus was the Son of God, but that he was "innocent."

Even the crowds who watched share the feeling of Jesus' innocence , returning to their homes in great distress, beating their breasts.

It is not necessary for the Centurian to say the Jesus is the Son of God. By this point in Luke's Gospel we are well aware that Jesus is the Son of God.


Standing at a distance are not only the women, but all of Jesus friends who had followed him from Galilee, including, of course, the disciples, who have not had the courage to go to the foot of the cross, but who clearly have not totally abandoned him as they do in Mark's rendition.

Likewise, Luke clarifies the role of Joseph of Aramathea, saying that he had not agreed to the Sanhedrin's plans. Joseph takes the body and lays it in a fresh tomb. And Luke tells us that the women went home to prepare spices and ointments for his body.

After the Sabbath Luke tells us that they came to the tomb with their preparations, only to find the tomb empty. Later, Peter, who has not gone to ground in Galilee, but who has stayed in Jerusalem, will run to the empty tomb and be amazed by what he sees.

Still later, Luke tells us that the Risen Lord appeared to Peter, thus confirming the truth of Luke's message: Jesus will be with and watch over all of his disciples and followers, even those, who, like Peter, deny him in periods of weakness.

There should be much consolation in that fact for us Christians, because most of us falter in periods of weakness and doubt. But Christ is here for us and will watch over us. He will never abandon us regardless of the strength of our faith at any given moment.


Summary of this Series of Lenten Reflections

And so ends this exploration of The Death of the Messiah. Throughout the world Christians now are in the midst of the Lenten Season.

It continues to be my hope that this brief series has been a help to those who want to understand the Christ and his Passion at a depth that they may not have known before.

I particularly hope that this series has put to rest some of the nonsense about harmonizing and homogenizing the Passion which is so appealing to many but which totally misses the point of having four different Gospels in the first place.

Just as "God don't make no junk," so too God did not send his Spirit to guide the writers of the four very different Gospel accounts of Jesus by accident. God did this so we may see the at least four different sides of the one we now call The Christ.

And finally, please remember that the Gospels do not pretend to be history books. Writing history as we know it today was not even a known practice at the time the Gospels were written. To apply today's historical research methods to the Gospels is at best a silly exercise.

Those who continue to search for the "Historical Jesus" will forever get their doctorates, their accolades, and sell their books to those who insist that one and only one portrait of Jesus must be "the right one."

But this is the same mind set that stunts our understanding of the four Gospel accounts by insisting on harmonizing the Gospels as if they were simply data sources for creating the "one" "real" story of Jesus.

But the Gospels cannot yield anything approaching an "true" history of Jesus simply because they were never written to be what we think of as history.

They were always theology, theology told in story, in narrative, form. They are now, and always have been, kerygma, proclamation, of the Gospel, the Good News, of Jesus of Nazareth, the Son of God, the Christ. This theology forms the foundation of the Christian faith.

To my Christian readers I offer this hope: that the rest of your Lenten journey may be one of both discovery and peace, secure in your belief that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and our Redeemer and Lord.

Monte



1874 page views 2010 03 26

Monday, March 22, 2010

Death of the Messiah, 3 of 4: Mark: Jesus Denied, for 2010

First published, Open Salon, MARCH 19, 2010 5:03PM
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NOTE TO READERS: This Lenten essay was originally published on Open Salon, March 11, 2009. It is part of my Christian Calendar Series. I have edited it for 2010, clarifying certain points and improving the flow of the text.

Christian liturgy, ritual and most of Christian theology change little from year to year. The reason for the Christian Calendar is to encourage Christians to rehearse, ponder and reflect on, year after year, the life, death and resurrection of Jesus, the Christ, so that His life becomes part and parcel of our family history.

The story of Christ changes little, but we, His disciple, change and grow, become ill, or face death, our own or a loved one's, and in so doing we come each year to view the events of Christ and the traditions of His Church through different eyes.

Hopefully, what I write in this series will have a certain timelessness, updated slightly each year to improve clarity and thereby open more deeply our understanding of aspects of the events celebrated during the Christian Year.

This Lenten essay for 2010 lays out some basic parameters of orthodox Christian belief. What is written here are my own beliefs, which are widely shared by Christians in most mainline Protestant denominations and in the Roman and Orthodox Catholic denominations in the United States as being fundamental to Christian faith



Overview: Where we are in this four part series.

In Part One I introduced this series on The Death of the Messiah. I pointed out that, while we may think there is only one story of the death of the Messiah, repeated four times, in fact there are four different renditions of the story of Jesus' death, both in the details and in the portrait of Jesus presented. I also said that there is also a fifth rendition: the one that we create from the other four, adding our own ideas of what happened during the Passion.

I pointed out that I believe that these Gospel stories were divinely inspired and that God was therefore, both mindful of the inconsistencies in the stories, and intentional in his/her inspiration, in that God wants us to be able to see Jesus' death from four unique vantage points.

We do not improve on the Gospel accounts by trying to harmonize them, regardless how tempting it is to try to do so. Ultimately, all attempts at harmonizing the Gospels fail and never give a true picture of what God is saying to us in those sacred texts.

This fact, however, gives ulcers to many who believe that the stories of Jesus must all be clear, concise, neat and without factual disagreement. Part of the problem for such people is that they insist on viewing the Gospels as history, which they are not. They are theology told in narratives, stories, and are kerygma, proclamation of the Good News of Jesus the Christ.


In Part Two we explored my contention that it is good to have four differing Gospel accounts. Having four different depictions of both the narratives of the stories and then seeing how Jesus reacts to essentially the same events allows us to see that Jesus is a far more complex character than the portrait we often hold of him.

And each of the four Gospel accounts paint a part of Jesus that appeals to different people, and even to the same person at different stages in his or her life.

We finished Part Two looking at a short but profound conclusion by Dr. Raymond Brown: "To choose one portrayal of the crucified Jesus in a manner that would exclude the other portrayals or to harmonize all the Gospel portrayals into one would deprive the cross of much of its meaning. It is important that some be able to see the head bowed in dejection, while others observe the arms outstretched in forgiveness, and still others perceive in the title on the cross the proclamation of a reigning king."


Part Three: The Death of the Messiah in The Gospel according to Mark: Jesus: Denied, Defiled, Derided, Despised"

In this essay we are going to look at Mark's account of the Death of the Messiah in some detail. As we saw before, Mark, the earliest Gospel written, portrays a scene of stark human abandonment of Jesus.

And, of all the Gospels, Mark portrays a very human, very vulnerable Jesus. His portrayal of Jesus, the disciples, and all of the actors in this drama of death, shows people in all of their human frailty, in their evil plotting and their despicable actions. In the end, Mark shows that we all, even Jesus, have no choice but to depend on God.

In my opinion, Mark gives us deep insights into the hearts and minds of men and woman, and explores the depths of the human condition like no other Gospel.

So here we are now looking together at a very human and very vulnerable Jesus surrounded by disciples who are ordinary and, usually, not very bright disciples. One professor of mine called the disciples as portrayed in Mark, DUH-ciples.

Some may feel uncomfortable with the intellectually dense disciples portrayed in Mark, and even with the very vulnerable, very human Jesus who feels and acts much like we might in similar circumstances.

Mark's Jesus is very aware of what he must do, but he agonizes over it, and, at one point, begs God to let it pass him by. Mark's Jesus shows great courage in the face of personal fear and doubt and commits himself to God even knowing it will mean his death. In the end he is, in fact, abandoned by all who followed him, and Jesus even despairs that he has been abandoned by God.

Of course, the narrative tells us later that he was not permanently abandoned by God; but Mark gives absolutely no indication that Jesus knew that. Still, he remained faithful to God even to his last breath.


Jesus is aware from the beginning of Mark's Gospel that his preaching of the coming Kingdom of God is going to get him killed. As early as the third chapter, Mark tells us that the Pharisees and Herodians were plotting to destroy him.

Jesus himself predicts His own violent death three times, long before the actual event. Yet the disciples did not understand, failed to understand, refused to understand, and did not want to understand.

Then Jesus arrives in Jerusalem intent on purifying the Temple, and it all comes to a head as the priests and scribes plot to destroy him, exactly as the Pharisees and Herodians had been doing from the beginning.

There are other hints. A woman admirer anoints His body with oil, a sign of preparing him for His death. Judas plots to betray him, and Jesus, aware of the plot, at the Last Supper indicates His willingness to pour out his blood as a sign of the New Covenant that God is offering to the people.

Thus, as he leaves the Upper Room and goes to pray on the Mount of Olives, Jesus understands the necessity of his suffering and death. But the disciples do not understand and he knows it, just as he knows that they will all abandon him, telling them that they all will be scattered.

They deny any such possibility, especially Peter. But Jesus tells Peter he will be particularly unfaithful and will deny Jesus three times. On this gloomy note the Passion in Mark begins, and it will only get darker, until, on the following day, Jesus will die with no support at all from those who followed him. He will die alone.

This tragic scenario is almost too much even for Jesus. In Gethsemene Jesus confesses to the disciples, "My soul is very sorrowful, even unto death," and he asks them to stay near him while he goes to pray, admonishing them to stay awake.

Then, he goes and prays, asking God that the cup of death might pass him by; yet saying that he will do the will of the Father regardless. There is no response from God, but Jesus accepts the will of God implied by the silence from heaven, and prepares to meet his enemies, knowing he will die.

He is resigned to his fate, even as he is disturbed that the disciples can not even stay awake while he is in this agony. They are physically present, but already have symbolically abandoned him while they sleep.


His resignation to his fate is clear. Only in Mark does Jesus fail to respond to Judas' kiss, or to the striking of the slave of the High Priest on the ear by a bystander. He does nothing to save himself, saying simply, "Let the Scriptures be fulfilled." The disciples and all the followers flee.

One, a young man, once intent on following him, flees so quickly and in such fear that he leaves his captors clinging to his clothes, running away naked, saving his skin, symbolic of the total abandonment of Jesus by all who intended to follow him.

Jesus will face death, the ultimate evil, alone. That is the clear message of Mark.

The pace now quickens and Mark takes us immediately to the trial by the Sanhedrin, the governing Jewish body in Jerusalem. What goes on in the trial is juxtaposed sharply against what is happening in the courtyard outside the trial chamber.

In the chamber the chief priests, elders and scribes hear testimony against Jesus, which Mark calls "false" testimony, testimony which does not agree on any factual details. We are not told the nature of the false testimony. But the high priest is annoyed by both the ineptitude of the witnesses and the silence of Jesus.

Trying to force an answer from Jesus he asks, "Are you the Messiah, the Son of the Blessed One." And, startlingly, Jesus answers for the first time in this Gospel, "I am." Until now Jesus had made no such claim, although we who have read Mark already know it from what God had said to him at his baptism and to the three disciples at the Transfiguration.

But far more damning to Jesus is that he does not stop there but says that he, the Son of Man, will be seated at God's right hand and will come again on the clouds of heaven. This is too much for the high priest, who declares that statement blasphemy, whereupon all of the members of the Sanhedrin condemn him as deserving of death.

Some then spit on him and blindfold him, beating him and screaming at him to prophesy. All of which is ironic for that is precisely what he has just done, and none of them believed it!

Thus, the themes which have already emerged earlier in the Gospel here coalesce: destroying the Temple, acknowledging Jesus as Messiah and Son of God. Yet, in Mark, still, nobody believes it.


In stark contrast to Jesus' faithful willingness to go the last mile for God is the scene outside the chamber of the Sanhedrin, in the court yard, where Peter has hesitantly followed Jesus at a distance. In the chamber, Jesus confesses who he is; while outside his prime disciple denies him.

As predicted by Jesus, Peter denies him not once, but three times, finally swearing an oath that he does not even know Jesus. When the cock crows, Peter realizes his sin, and weeps.

The irony is complete: Jesus is beaten and ordered to prophesy which he has already done but none believed him, and, meanwhile, other of his prophesies are coming true in the court yard.

Rather than kill Jesus themselves by stoning, which was allowed under Jewish law, the Sanhedrin instead bind him and hand him over to Pilate, the Roman Governor. Mark gives us no indication why.

But the effect is dramatic and interesting, if usually unnoticed. Up to now the condemnations against Jesus have been theological: "Are you the Messiah, the Son of God?" "Do you intend to destroy the Temple?" These are religious questions.

Pilate knows about and cares nothing about such questions. His concerns are strictly political, reflecting the concern of the Roman occupying force for stability in this conquered land: "Are you the King of the Jews?"

Now, neither Jesus nor anyone else has ever before made such a claim. Jesus refuses to take the bait, answering only "You say so;" which really isn't an answer because Pilate has actually not said that he thought that to be true. Pilate pushes him to say something, to answer the many charges the Jewish leaders have brought against him. But Jesus says nothing.

At this point there is no indication that the Sanhedrin has convinced Pilate to do anything with Jesus; but it is here that the crowd comes into play. It was the custom to release one prisoner to the crowd at Passover and Pilate asked did they wish to have the "King of the Jews," Jesus, released, or Barabbas, a rebel, part of an insurrection against Roman rule. The crowd demanded Barabbas.

Pilate, wishing perhaps to remove the decision from himself, asks them what to do with Jesus and they all shout "Crucify him!" And Pilate, apparently surprised at the harshness of their verdict says, "Why? What evil has he done?" They gave no answer; shouting again, "Crucify him?"

Mark tells us nothing of Pilate's thoughts but only that, to satisfy the crowd, he released Jesus to be flogged and then crucified.


Once again, in this scene as in the others, no one looks good except Jesus. Pilate appears weak, almost threatened by the crowd. He makes no attempt to get to the bottom of the issue; certainly makes no attempt to achieve any kind of justice: he simply wants to pacify the crowd.

First the disciple, Judas, betrays him, then the disciples all run away; Peter denies him; witnesses accuse him falsely; the high priest condemns him, as does the whole Sanhedrin to a man; the crowd turns against him, Pilate sentences him to flogging and crucifixion; the soldiers beat him, mock him, spit on him (as had the Sanhedrin) and lead him to his death.

Thus, both trials end in betrayal and mockery. And all: disciple, Jewish leaders, crowd, Roman Governor, and Roman soldiers share in the shame and guilt of desertion, betrayal, accusation, and condemnation of the Son of God. Mark wants to drive that point home and does so with dramatic clarity.


The soldiers enlist Simon of Cyrene to carry the cross, implying that the beating had made it impossible for Jesus to carry it himself. On reaching Golgotha they offer him a bitter drink, which he refuses, and then they crucify him.

Mark, who often aligns things in threes, divides the time on the cross into three periods. They crucify him at 9 in the morning, darkness overcomes the land at noon, and at 3 in the afternoon Jesus dies.

The title, "King of the Jews" is mockingly nailed to the Cross; but Mark does not see it as an ironic symbol, but rather calls it "a charge against him." For the first three hours no human being shows Jesus the slightest sympathy, not the soldiers, nor the crowd, nor the passers-by, nor the chief priests and scribes who came to watch the spectacle.

All mocked him, telling him to save himself and come down from the cross, if he be the Messiah. Even the two bandits crucified with him taunted him. Not one of his disciples came to the cross to be with him in his last hours.

Even nature itself seemed to abandon him, as the sun was overcome and darkness fell over the whole of the land for the next three hours. And in the darkness Jesus hung there alone, abandoned by all who ever claimed to love him.

And finally, mercifully, it is over, as, at 3 o'clock, Jesus cries out with a loud voice the only words Mark reports: "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" These words are not new to Jesus. They are the opening words to Psalm 22.


We should not try to soften these words, as hard as it might be for us to believe that Jesus could possibly feel abandoned by his own Father. But the words are there; God wants us to hear them.

Shortly thereafter Jesus lets out a loud cry, not of words, just of agony, and dies. Jesus dies, alone, abandoned by his friends, seemingly abandoned by God. Mark is quite clear that Jesus thought God had forsaken him.

This made the other Gospel writers very nervous, even as it might make some of us nervous even now. And so they changed the final scene considerably from what Mark reports.

Our job now is to hear these words as written by Mark, and to ponder them; not to try to rewrite the Bible or to try to justify them, saying that he didn't mean them or coming up with some other nonsense to correct Mark. Our job is to try to understand the depths of despair that Jesus felt; this very brave, very faithful, very human Jesus we see here hanging on that tree.

God's reply to Jesus' death is immediate, abrupt: the moment Jesus dies the curtain of the temple is split in two, from top to bottom, a violent rending, symbolic of Jesus' claim that he would tear down this Temple "made with hands."

This huge, dense curtain was actually a mammoth drapery, over a foot thick, and was to keep everyone except the High Priest from going into the inner sanctum said to be where God dwelt.

Here Mark, not with words, but with the mental picture of the Temple Curtain, had created a significant theological picture. Rending that Curtain in two symbolizes that no more will access to God be restricted to a chosen few allowed to enter the "Holy of Holies."

From that time forward people will come to a new temple, one "not made with hands," but rather one build upon the sacrifice of Jesus. Jesus is the new Temple, built to receive those who show faith in the One who died to save us from ourselves, and from the sin within us.


Mark seldom speaks of directly in theological terms, rather he lets the theology be found in the mental pictures his writing portrays. Thus he moves quickly to another great theological truth that he lets someone else speak.

Startlingly, an outsider comes immediately into the picture of the Crucifixion, not a disciple, not even a Jew, in no way an "insider," but a Gentile, a Roman centurion, who stands at the foot of the cross and says what no man, disciple or priest, had ever before figured out in the entire telling of Mark's Gospel: "Truly, this man was the Son of God."

In a single moment God has vindicated Jesus; replacing the Temple as the center of worship and offering in its place Gods' own Son, who will be confessed as Lord.

And, as irony piles on irony, we are told that while the disciples, who were all men, fled in cowardly retreat, standing in the distance are three women, Mary Magdalene, Mary, the mother of James and Joses, and Salome; three who had followed him in Galilee and had provided for him when he was going about his ministry.

Unlike the core group of male disciples, these three female disciples, and some other women, while not coming to the Cross to share his agony with Jesus, at least looked on, waited and watched. They did not flee and totally abandon him as did the others.

And there was one other, Joseph of Arimathea, who showed some courage, which only Mark sees that way. Indeed, it must have been courage and perhaps some remorse, because Mark has told us that all of the Sanhedrin, of which Joseph was a member, had found Jesus deserving of death.

But Mark tells us now that Joseph went "boldly" to Pilate to ask for Jesus' body. Only in Mark does Pilate question whether Jesus is really dead; and, assured by the centurion that he is dead, he granted the body to Joseph for burial.

Joseph took the body down, wrapped it in linen, and laid it in a rock hewn tomb. Then he rolled a stone in front of the tomb entrance. Preparing us for the resurrection, Mark tells us that the two Marys followed and saw where the body was laid.


On Sunday morning they will return to the tomb and find it empty. For Mark, the story of Jesus' death can not end with his burial, but with his resurrection.

Mark, more than any of the other Gospel writers, emphasizes the importance of the Passion. The Roman centurion's words dramatize the very Marcan idea that people cannot truly know who Jesus is until the death of the Messiah. As reported by Mark, People may think they know; and they can guess, but, until the death of Jesus, no one really knows who he is.

Mark clearly implies that one can become a true disciple, a faithful and brave disciple, only through understanding the suffering symbolized by a Cross which strips away all human support systems and makes one totally dependent upon God. To Mark, keeping the faith means our recognition of our total dependence on God.

For Mark salvation comes not from "coming down from the cross" as Jesus was taunted to do; but from acceptance of the cross and all that entails.

Mark's community was one suffering from great persecution. As Dr. Brown says, "the gospel or 'Good News' for them was that this trial and suffering was not a defeat but a salvific example of taking up the cross and following Jesus."


Most of us do not live in suffering and persecuted communities. So perhaps an additional question for us is whether Christians can, accustomed as we are to great material pleasure, and not being used to suffering for the sake of Christ, find in Mark's description of the Passion a passion of our own for taking up our cross and carrying it in his name.

While we may not know such suffering ourselves, we do not have to look far to find millions who do suffer from the burdens of their own unjust crosses. Doing something about that can be a way we can begin to know what it means to others who, though innocent, to this day bear crosses not of their own making.

Deitrich Bonhoeffer said that Jesus calls us to "come die with me." Bonhoerffer never wished to die, but was willing to reenter Nazi Germany to carry on the work of Christ knowing that he was marked for death if caught. And he was. The Nazis executed him three days before the Allies captured the prison camp where he was confined.

We are far removed from such drastic decisions in our every day lives. But there are many who do die without help or hope because otherwise good men and women are unwilling to risk much of themselves to give to them either help or hope. And so the call remains. "Take up you cross and follow me" is still the word to Christians from the one we know as the Christ.


Part Four, the final part, on Luke, will be posted Friday, March 26, 2010.


God bless you all.

Monte

Monday, March 15, 2010

Conway Twitty: Too Sexy for Country?

MARCH 15, 2010

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Note: The quality of the music reproduction on the Playlist is much better than the quality of the YouTube videos. And if you don't listen to the Playlist with earphones or earbuds I doubt you will be able to tell what is so very unique about his voice and music.


YouTube videos follow this introduction


Harold Jenkins didn't sound to him like much of a name for a singer who intended to distinguish himself from the crowd so he became Conway Twitty, which was nothing if not unique. No one really knows if he, as rumor has it, conjured the name by glancing at a map and noticing Conway, Ark. and Twitty, Tx. but the name is certainly hard to forget.

Before Sue and I got married we decided to take a drive from St. Louis down to Branson and I was introducing her to country music. I asked her to fumble around in the glove box for a Conway Twitty tape.

She looked at me and said, "What's that?"

I said, "That's the name of the top country singer."

"You're kidding, right?"

"Nope."

Well, she found it, got a good laugh out of his name, played the tape -- and became another Conway Twitty fan.


Conway Twitty was a singer/song writer who had early success in rock and roll, R&B and pop. But it was in the singing of country ballads, many of which were sensuous, with thinly veiled sexual innuendos, that pushed him to the very top of the country charts for over 30 years. Much of his music was indeed suggestive and sensuous, but it never crossed the line into anything remotely vulgar.

On the contrary, it would be considered tame by today's much looser standards. Nevertheless he encountered substantial opposition to it throughout his career from the traditionalists in the genre.

Yet, until 2007 he held the record of 55 number one country singles. And, in addition to his solo career, in the early '70s he and Loretta Lynn won award after award as their duets topped the country charts time and again. His cross over covers of such songs as "The Rose" won appreciation far beyond the country genre.

His initial success was in rock and roll. Writing and singing "Its Only Make Believe" he finally had his first #1 hit, on the pop charts, not only on Billboard but in 21 other countries. That was the beginning of a strong international fan base that was to remain with him even after he crossed from rock to country and which bolstered his record sales and made him an international singing star.

After modest success in rock, some R&B and pop, by the mid-60s Conway Twitty had his heart set on moving into country music. However, many country DJs did not want to play his music because he was a "rock and roll" singer.

But by 1968 with his first country #1 song he was firmly entrenched on the country scene, without much help from either the DJs or the country establishment. Nobody liked his music except the people. They loved it.

Nevertheless, he continued to have trouble getting some of his songs played by prudish disk jockeys. Today we would find it hard the believe that the sexual innuendo of the lyrics of his songs, coupled with the way he sang them, could possibly bother a disk jockey. But Conway Twitty was not one to change what made his music stand apart from the then current country scene.

Twitty knew exactly what he was doing and became a country heart throb and sensation in the 70s and 80s, selling out every venue he played, complete with a following of swooning women, not unlike what happened to Sinatra and Elvis. County music had never seen anything like it, and hasn't again since.

While performing in Branson, Mo, in 1993 he became ill and died from an abdominal aortic aneurysm. He was only 59 years old.

Ironically, in country music circles Conway Twitty is not talked about much these days and his songs are seldom played, even on the Country Golden Oldies stations. If I had to guess why I would say that he is a victim of his own success.

His voice was unique, gravelly, ranging from a deep baritone to tenor, and he sometimes whispered the words as much as sang them. He sounded, well, the only word is "sexy." And when that voice was combined with suggestive lyrics he created an image that was just a bit too "bad boy" for some of the country music crowd.

I also think that artists that start out in rock and roll and end up in country music never are quite considered to be "really" country by the powers that be in country music. This is in spite of the fact that he was a member of the Grand Ole Opry and inducted into the Country Music Hall of Fame, posthumously, in 1999.

I liked Conway Twitty from the first time I heard him singing early rock and R&B and I still like his music today. All of it. And that is why I have posted this tribute.

More on Conway Twitty can be found here:

http://conwaytwitty.com/
http://www.cmt.com/artists/az/twitty_conway/artist.jhtml
http://www.allmusic.com/cg/amg.dll?p=amg&sql=11:diftxql5ldfe

Lay You Down



Don't Take It Away



Hello, Darlin'



Slow Hand



Easy Lovin' w/ Loretta Lynn



I'm Not Through Loving You Yet



Almost Persuaded



Don't Call Him a Cowboy



A Bridge That Just Won't Burn