Mark 2:1-12 and windows and doors

This is a curious coincidence — my husband and I have watched several movies lately that revolve around doors as magical things. And then here is a door in verse 2 of this biblical story (Mark 2:1-12) — “So many gathered around that there was no longer room for them, not even in front of the door….” It seems as if, from various lectures and a tiny bit of google, that generally houses in Jesus’ time and place did not have windows, and they wouldn’t have had glass like we think of windows. But doors, yes. Doors let in light and air! Doors kept danger out at night. Doors are kind of magical aren’t they? You are one place, then you are another when you open the door and step out (or in).

In this case, for there to not be any more room even in front of the door, that meant there were a lot of people around! It was packed!

And the magical thing really was Jesus “was speaking the word to them.” I like the translation “preaching” better — Jesus was preaching! And I would capitalize “the Word” — he was speaking the Word! Wow! If I had a chance to ride on a time machine, this is where I would go, that hot, packed, aromatic incredible moment where Jesus spoke the word.

I imagine that Jesus would speak the truth, wiser than anyone else. I imagine he used stories from the Torah and so on. But the Gospel of Mark doesn’t say! At all. This is not a story about what Jesus said. This is a story about what Jesus does.

So there was no more room, but — then more people came! What is going to happen next? Stay tuned!

FTGOG

Thoughts about the incarnation

It is amazing, isn’t it, that God — G-d!!! — chose to come down and be born and be a baby and live here. God chose to be vulnerable, as baby Jesus and the whole time he walked here. He was still somehow fully God. But he was fully human, and that’s amazing. And that’s important. Sometimes I wonder what the cross did exactly? How did the world change? Was death and sin defeated? I could wonder about theories of salvation all day.

But at the end of day, and at this time of year, the salvation is that he was incarnated. He was human. He laughed and cried and danced and loved people and was sad and was angry. He helped people. He healed people. He brought hope. He talked to people. I don’t know about the cross (I’m not saying that I doubt the cross, just saying that — sometimes it seems so distant from me). However Jesus — all those stories and parables and metaphors and discourses — I can read about it all over again and find new stuff, good stuff. I see the work and hope in the incarnation.

And I am amazed.

And the incarnation is not separate from the cross, or separate from resurrection. Jesus speaks, I think in each gospel, that he is going to die, and he is coming back. There is a sorrow at the heart of each gospel’s joy, isn’t there? There is pain in this story. The image and grace and wonder of Jesus’ life is not to ignore the pain. In some way, it is more real at least to me that Jesus did suffer even as he saved. When a time of suffering or even the irritation of a pea under twenty mattresses afflicts me, I know Jesus understands.

But for now we can be amazed, and smile at the infant, and smile at Mary and Joseph, and simply share the love.

Images for Luke 13:10-17

Here is a modern look by Barbara Schwarz (2014). Jesus bends over so they are face to face, isn’t that lovely? And I had visualized that he put his hands on her back (where she was afflicted), but in this painting it is hands-in-hands and that’s really nice. This painting feels so gentle. And the sort of soft rainbow arching background, and the walking stick on the ground are great details: hope and healing.

Here is what seems to be a very ancient picture of this story from 1250 a.d.

Here is an essay by Wil Gafney with an image of a stone sculpture of our bent-over woman, clutching Jesus’ hand, while his other one waves the blessing or the power of healing over her. Dr. Gafney makes the very true point that we and the church often or sometimes sort of dismiss the body. It is the mind, the heart, the soul that is important. (Don’t you love the chicken down by everyone’s feet? Why is there a chicken?)

And Jesus sees this suffering woman and heals her body.

It isn’t the right question, I want to suggest, to say: Why not heal everyone? Why are people still broken? This is a painful question. This could be a important question. But perhaps a more useful question is more along the lines of “how can I plant a seed” for the healing and growing of the world? How can I bake enough bread to feed my share and then some? What does the Kingdom of Heaven look like? Feel like? Perhaps the deep rich gratitude of being pain-free and able to pray and serve?

Perhaps? This woman upon being healed immediately prayed or kept praying. Peter’s mother-in-law whom Jesus healed immediately got up and began serving.

FTGOG

Images of the Stilling of the Sea

This week I’m going to share some pictures.

Calming the storm. (2022, November 21). In Wikipedia. Rembrandt, 1632 — obviously an amazing painting.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Calming_the_storm

Jan Brueghel the Elder – Museo Thyssen-Bornemisza, Madrid (1596) Jesus is asleep. There are all sorts of other boats around, and the water is choppy and clouds threatening and the sail has come loose and the looks on the disciples faces, they are so alarmed and afraid.

In the Rembrandt, the storm is terrifying and they are waking Jesus up, perhaps in the nick of time.

There are many, many, many pictures of Jesus stilling the storm by standing and raising his hand, like this: https://www.gospelimages.com/paintings/95/jesus-calms-a-storm? I never envisioned that. If I thought about it at all in a visual way, I thought maybe he was cold, wet, groggy, barely awake and he sort of snapped his fingers to bring calm to the scene as quickly as possible. I didn’t imagine him being all dramatic! I just didn’t. Maybe he was! Maybe we want one with the power to command the waves and the wind to be appropriately “commanding”.

Here’s another picture, by modern artist and blogger: Laura James — this is lovely. I didn’t see the fish at first. There is a wonderful sense of whimsy and joy in this picture. After a storm, whatever sort of storm, there often can be a sense of peace. And the boat looks like a giant basket recalling, maybe, a giant version of Moses’ basket set afloat to save his life. Yet it is important to remember that after the storm was calmed, the disciples were not. They were afraid and they wondered in fear, too afraid to ask.

FTGOG

A stormy boat ride in Luke 8:22-25

Hello! I’m starting on a series about Luke 8:22-25 because that will be the focus or anchor of my exegesis paper this semester. There is so much packed into this little passage.

I think it was a story told a lot among Jesus’ disciples. “Remember that boat ride? We should have known, right then, that Jesus had power, that he was more than a prophet.” While there are a lot of boat rides among the gospels, this little snip of a story captured my holy imagination the first time I heard it, and it is in all three synoptic gospels. My father and I were out in some chilly air, but never in a storm. Never even in particularly choppy water. That’s the difference between holiday fishing and fishing for a living. My uncles and cousins, who made their living on the water in various ways, were all strong, silent, stoic men. They got up and faced whatever the ocean had to throw at them every day unless there was an official weather warning. They weren’t messing about with boats; they were working.

            So a fierce and sudden storm on the Lake of Galilee that was bad enough to make Peter and the boys afraid is quite a storm. These are not men who lacked experience and skill with water and boats, and with weather. I am sure they are better bailers than I was and didn’t complain about icy cold water. Based on my small experience, their fear in that boat, on that lake, during that storm reads as real and genuine and not from ignorance.

What is the relationship between fear and faith? Who is Jesus that his words calm the wind and the water? What could the relationship be between Jesus and Jonah, beyond stormy boat rides? Or Jesus and creation literature including Job? Can I explore the relationship between peace and obedience and faith? What happens before and after in Luke? How is this story told differently (and the same) in Matthew and Mark? What is the role of power? There are so many things to explore!

Help me Lord to have fun in this series of blogs and to be meaningful. And help my exegesis paper turn out okay!

FTGOG

A “light” about Matt 5:13-16

Matthew 5:13-16 is the one about salt and letting your light shine. It has always entirely baffled me. Is Jesus saying to toss out people who have lost their zest? Isn’t that the opposite of loving your neighbor? And the whole light thing — what is going on? Since I’m the layreader for this passage in a few weeks I’ve been reading it over and over and starting to get it in my head, when suddenly — a light burst over me! Matthew was talking to people who were afraid. And they knew they had reason to be afraid. And Matthew was trying to buck up doubters right to the end of the book, chapter 28:17 — the disciples are seeing the risen Jesus and “when they saw him, they worshiped him, but some doubted.” So the listeners were afraid and doubted, in this whole gospel — for their lives, their fortunes, their family honor — following Jesus and saying so out loud, visibly, in the light — was dangerous. And the whole thing, even if you saw it with your own eyes, are we sure that Jesus is the Messiah? After all, he died.

And so early in the story, in Chapter 5, Matthew is saying — following Jesus can’t be done without zest and digging in to all that is foundational and good, and it can’t be done in secret and darkness.

A city on a hill is vulnerable.

We use that phrase to mean something like a city on a hill has it all made, they are showing the world how to live, they are examples. And these thoughts are in this passage too. But in fact, the familiar phrase to us has a ring of pride and even hypocrisy, a whiff of something that needs to be trambled in the ground.

Instead think about how vulnerable such a city is — do they have enough water for a siege? Do they have access to food from the valley? What happens if they are surrounded by enemies? And if everyone can see you — what if they make fun of you? What if they scorn you? What if they avoid your city? “You know, those people are weird, this Messiah stuff about a guy who died, and anyway who wants to walk up hill?”

So — be salty! Never lose your zest! Don’t just be bland out of fear!

Shine your light! You might get hurt, but you got to shine and by shining, we mean “do good works” not talking hate or arguing or being afraid. Help your neighbor, out of the love of Jesus, and God will get the glory. Don’t be afraid!

FTGOG!

Luke 8:26-39 and the abyss

Let’s look at verse 31 today, the demons begging Jesus not to send them to the abyss. In last week’s bible study I brought this verse up because my pastor and wise friends were talking about death, and “before birth”, and even eternity, because we were looking at Psalm 71:1-6 and Jeremiah 1:4-10. Now you say “eternity” what I hear is “abyss” — I think it is terrifying. I brought up my Luke 8 (of course) and said that when the demons beg not to thrown into the abyss, I feel sorry for them. Demons! yet I feel sorry for them. I didn’t want to think about eternity and I thought it was a bit of a side track for these passages. I was expecting people to laugh or clutch their pearls, I’m not sure exactly.

And my pastor said, “Jesus felt sorry for them too, that’s why he let them go into the pigs.” And honestly, I felt a love beam from Jesus. Not only sorry for demons, of all things, but sorry for me too — a sinner, an ordinary person. He’s sorry for all of us, blind in our lack of knowledge, blind in our fears. He doesn’t want to cause fear. He wants to help.

It was one of those moments, just a few seconds if that.

Then I went back to being afraid of the abyss! I just can’t wrap my head around “eternity”. Even with the world on fire metaphorically, and in big trouble with climate change and biomass dying and the bees dying and so on and so forth — well last week I happened to be up at the right time and saw a beautiful sunrise, banners of red and golden flaming the sky.

Even my ordinary neighborhood is filled with beauty. Perhaps dying or waiting to be born is a glorious state of being. But that’s too much for me. I’ll just enjoy and praise the blessing of now.

FTGOG

So what might Jesus be afraid of?

In 8:26-29 the Gerasene Demoniac story, we learn Jesus isn’t afraid of an army of demons. And before that Jesus calms the storm — he is not afraid of the wildness of nature. In the parable of the rich fool however we do hear warnings of danger (Luke 12:13-21).

“¹⁵ And he said to them, “Take care! Be on your guard against all kinds of greed, for one’s life does not consist in the abundance of possessions.” 

Greed, money, possessions — this is what to fear.

I can image the people back then shaking their heads thinking this doesn’t make sense, because we now do the same. A storm can kill you. A demon could kill you. How can the seeming prudence of saving up your abundant harvest be something to fear?

First — live or die is in God’s hands and might be a good exploration for another day.

Second — I want to suggest that if you are wealthy or full of possessions you might think you can survive without community, or that even the community will take take take from you. And I want to suggest that living without community is the real danger, or one of the dangers.

The Lord’s prayer (Luke 11:2-4) after all says “… and give us this day our daily bread….” Bread is not something you can create on your own then or now. Someone to grow the wheat, someone to harvest it, someone to grind it, and then there’s the yeast and all the rest of what goes into bread. Bread is a community effort. Bread takes all of us.

In the parable the man with the abundant harvest doesn’t share. He doesn’t talk to anyone else, but to himself. He thinks he is safe because of his abundance.

I don’t imagine that Jesus is saying any of this with a sort of thunderous voice. I think he is sincerely hoping this warning and this parable help. But this is definitely a difficult Jesus passage.

FTGOG

Mark 4:35-41, let’s start

I’ll be the layreader in person in June at my church with Mark 4:35-41 — I hope. I haven’t verified that yet with the pastors because I fell in love with the story and decided to learn it by heart storytelling style regardless! Let’s get started on this journey.

So Jesus has had a long day and the disciples take him on a boat ride to get away from the crowd so he can rest. And the boat ride turns suddenly dangerous with a sudden storm swirling around them and swamping the boat. The disciples are terrified and find Jesus still asleep! They wake him up and he calms the storm and the disciples are in awe.

It is so much more than magic going on here. The bottom line sort of conclusions — hey Jesus has the power to stop a storm and make the waters obey — is fine by itself. It’s a true sign of God, to have that power, no doubt. While the disciples at this point have no idea or expectation that Jesus is God at this point in the story, we the reader do before we read the story, or at least we know that is one common belief. So I’m afraid we (I) on first encountering this story are like, “Okay Jesus is God or has some of God’s powers” and we don’t see the wonder of this story.

Here’s some things to notice:

*Jesus is the one who starts the trip to the other side of the sea of Galillee.

*In verse 36 he got into the boat “just as he was”. He didn’t pick up a magic staff or get zapped with a magic light for temporary power. He was “just as he was” — tired clearly, and I bet hungry. He was not “powered up” — he was worn out and low energy.

*Other boats were with him. There are witnesses other than the disciples! And this is such a little tiny line and you don’t see or know anything about the other boats. You can just march right past this.

And here is what the disciples say when they wake him up: “Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?”

Take a beat with that. Take a breath.

How many times have I said that to God? “Don’t you care that I am suffering/in danger/sad/etc. and might die?”

Oh my how God cares! God cares so much that Godself took on human form and was born as a baby and lived and suffered and worked right down here in the dirt with us. Jesus might, I think, have raised an eyebrow at them a little bit, because Jesus surely cares.

Jesus is going to save them (us) even when we do not know that we are perishing, for surely even before the storm the disciples (you, me, us) are perishing.

Take a breath and feel the joy of being alive!

FTGOG

Psalm 22 and despair and hope

I am to read Psalm 22 this Sunday for an an adult ed class — we’re getting ready for Holy Week. If you go straight to the joy of Easter without the depths of despair I have heard and understand that you do not truly get all the joy of Easter that is really available. I get that, but this past year, this was a year, right? I find myself really resisting Psalm 22 and it’s complete despair. This year I really do want to just spring to Easter and butterflies and flowers and joy.

That said — let’s poke at it a bit since I should get ready for tomorrow:

“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? “

Words made famous by Jesus on the cross. But the Psalmist of course could not have known that. So the feeling (or truth) of being forsaken by God is thousands of years old; having faith does not protect you from this feeling. Being made of Godstuff like Jesus does not protect you from feeling forsaken and feeling despair.

But note that the Psalmist addresses “My God” — twice. They may feel forsaken but they are still turning to God, in a personal way.

The Psalmist cries out, cannot sleep, feels like a worm, is scorned by others and despised and mocked —

My goodness! look at verse 12 — “Many bulls encircle me, strong bulls of Bashan surround me….” The bulls of Bashan! In my Amos research, as you recall, the cattle of Bashan is/were considered the finest, the best, strong and healthy.

Other animals in this Psalm are lions and dogs.

The despair of verses 14 and 15 is searing and I cannot honestly claim to have felt that depth of horror. I’m particularly struck by the image dust laying inside the Psalmist’s mouth as dust of death. The Psalmist is physically in pain, is too thin and shriveled. The people treat the psalmist as one already dead and divide the clothes. It is just heart-rending.

Verse 22 “From the horns of the wild oxen you have rescued me….” is where the Psalm turns. Just as we do not know exactly what is going on with the Psalmist, the jump to being saved by God is equally mysterious. We don’t actually know what God did. There is a silence between verse 21 and verse 22. Is it God who has done something? Is it a priest with an oracle of help coming? Is it the Psalmist just turning from despair on their own, and/or the circumstances improving? Is it just leaning into hope? Is what happened to end the misery itself so horrible that it was endured in silence but it worked and so now speech springs forth, into a flood of praise? Is what happenned just too personal to share?

The Psalmist reminds me of Isaiah’s images of the “suffering servant”, e.g., look up Isaiah 53. And of course all of this is for us mixed with images of Jesus. It is hard to look “just at the words”. It is hard to wonder about this mystery of salvation from despair and misery whether it is the suffering psalmist or Jesus. Or us. Or our neighbor. Or strangers in some far off place.

Perhaps salvation can only happen in silence and wonder and hope and mystery.

And only then joy overflowing. And out of our joy, may we spread help and healing and joy.

FTGOG