MRUC
Rev. John’s Blog 20 September 2019
We
love to count and rank events, people, athletes, books, and so on. It seems
that just about any time I turn on the Sports Channels or wait in line at the
supermarket; I am bombarded with rankings and comparisons. Countless bookstore
shelves and Internet pages are filled with sundry “Top
Ten” lists.
It’s not all that different when we come to our Christian Scriptures. Many of
us probably have a verse that stands out and influences much of what we do, and
that’s okay.
I
think if we read the Christian Scriptures carefully, we find that there are
certain stories or characters that just stand head and shoulders above the rest
in terms of importance or impact. This is not to diminish the lesser known,
more minor elements, but there is no denying that certain parts of the biblical
story give meaning to the rest and inform how the subsequent narratives are
read. We would certainly argue for Jesus as number one on our list of “Top Ten
Bible Characters.”
However,
without previous events and figures (for example, creation, Abraham, the
Exodus, and David), the narratives surrounding the life, death, and
resurrection of Jesus wouldn’t be nearly as rich or meaningful. In fact, the
four Gospels ooze complexity and meaning primarily because of that history.
Jesus’ own self-understanding was greatly influenced by his
understanding of his own religious heritage.
Another
event that should probably be in our top ten, is the Exile. It is nearly
impossible to overstate the importance of the Babylonian exile for the people of
Israel, for their theology, and for their future. The fall of Jerusalem
fundamentally challenged the predominant view of the Promised Land and Israel’s
place in it. The destruction of the temple led prophets and priests to think in
new ways about how God is present with the people and what authentic worship of
the Lord looks like. This has become an ongoing need and concern for Christians
also.
The
tragic failure of the Davidic royal line prompted the people of God to lament
their circumstances and vehemently protest their situation. They looked inward,
outward, and upward for explanations and answers to painful questions about the
nature of suffering, hope, and divine presence. We remember from my blog two
weeks ago that part of this painful search for meaning and truth includes
authentic lament and truth-telling.
As
devastating and traumatic as exile is, there is still a word of hope. This
hopeful expectation looks to the future by understanding the past and the
present. The odd thing about hope is that it never ignores the past or present;
rather, hope pays close attention to life in honest and open ways. Hope doesn’t
need to be kindled on bright days, but on stormy days and during dark nights.
In fact, hope is a truthful commentary on the here and now, a prophetic thought
that looks to a new dawn, but it is no sugar coated, fuzzy notion.
We may take this to heart when we hear the
statement from Jeremiah 31:27-34 the remarks concerning the people’s current
status? He says: “I have actively watched over you, my people, but not in ways
you might have hoped or thought.” Now that sounds good. I like the sound of
that as a follower of God. This spiritual path I’m on isn’t always easy, but it’s
good to know that God is watching out for me. But God wasn’t done: “I have
watched over [you] to pluck up and break down, to overthrow, destroy, and bring
evil.”
What
kind of watchman does that? That’s not the kind of shepherd we want—certainly
not the kind we think we need. The promised “coming days” are just around the
corner, but they don’t erase a difficult past. Looking to the future means
understanding how we arrived. Hopeful expectation means admitting that our
present condition needs redeeming and that we are powerless to make it happen
This
knowledge is an indispensable ingredient of life in exile; this is a part of
living away from one’s true home. But God isn’t finished with hope as we hear
the powerful verbal images to describe the “coming days”: sow, build, plant,
and forgive. These are all anticipatory verbs pointing to a new beginning, a
new chapter. Hopeful expectation understands that the future begins with the
digging of a hole for a seed or with words like “I forgive you.” Yet hope, and
all the expectation and anticipation it carries, never really gets ahead of
itself. Strong trees don’t grow up in a year; troubled relationships don’t heal
fully overnight; new habits are not formed in a day.
That’s probably just how most of our top ten
biblical stories begin. If we see nothing else here, we see that hopeful
expectation never lets go of the possibility that salvation can come to us in
the most unexpected ways: on an ark, in a basket floating in the reeds, in
exile, in a stable, on a cross, out of a tomb, or in a small but committed
community of people who dare to bear the name Christian.
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