Fourth Sunday in Lent -- Light and True Seeing

Passages: 1 Samuel 16:1-13, Psalm 23, Ephesians 5:8-14, John 9:1-41

Darkness cannot overcome even the faintest light.

Link to a choir rendition of Siyahamba, a South African song that relates to Ephesians 5

“The LORD does not look at the things man looks at. Man looks at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart.” –1 Samuel 16:7

“Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me” –Psalm 23.4

“While I am in the world, I am the light of the world.” –John 9:5

“For you were once darkness, but now you are light in the Lord. Live as children of light … everything exposed by the light becomes visible, for it is light that makes everything visible.” –Ephesians 5:8-14

The theme of light and darkness is repeated throughout the Bible, particularly in the New Testament. In today’s lectionary, this theme – along with Samuel’s theme of true seeing – binds the passages together. In the selections I have pulled out, you can see a progression of sorts. In the Hebrew Scriptures, Samuel proclaims God’s ability to see past outward appearances into the heart – immune to deception or ill intent. In the most famous Psalm of David, David uses the image of a shadow for death, an image that has endured for about 3,000 years. In the Gospel of John, which makes eloquent use of this theme, Jesus declares himself “the light of the world.” Ephesians takes the theme even farther, encouraging Christians to “live as children of light” and ties this spiritual light with true seeing.

Although the contrast of light/darkness lends itself to dualism, it is interesting to note that darkness is not an equally powerful opposite of light, but merely its absence. Darkness is also completely incapable of overcoming light – even the faintest, palest light can vanquish some darkness. Also, anyone familiar with dimming house lights know that there are gradations of illumination – a gray area between pitch black and blinding light.

The above passage from John is found in the account of Christ healing a blind man on Sabbath. Pharisees interrogate the blind man, his parents and even Christ, unable to make sense of someone they see as a sinner (Because Jesus did not keep the Sabbath) able to perform such a prophetic act of healing. As the ordeal winds down, Jesus informs the blind man and the Pharisees, “For judgment I have come into this world, so that the blind will see and those who see will become blind” (John 9:39). Jesus connects his previous claim (“I am the light of the world”) with his current action – “I have come so that the blind may see.” Although Jesus has literally given sight to a man who was blind from birth, he is clearly speaking in metaphor. As darkness is absence of light, spiritual blindness is ignorance of the Lord.

What I find so interesting about this passage is that Jesus also says he will make those who see blind. When he states, “but now that you claim you can see, your guilt remains,” he is refuting the legitimacy of their claims to sight. Perhaps, like in 1 Samuel, they are only seeing outward appearance, unable to see into the heart. Those arrogant enough to assume they truly see the world for what it is are unable to achieve true spiritual sight. Christ seems to be adopting the Socratic ideal – perhaps an instance of the Greek influence on Jewish thought – that in order to become wise, you must first admit your ignorance. In a mysterious paradox, you must negate yourself as a knower in order to know anything.

Those who confess their blindness are absolved of their sin: “If you were blind, you would not be guilty of sin.” If we cling stubbornly to our “sight” our guilt will remain with us. We will remain in darkness, unable to attain knowledge of our true surroundings, and unable to abide by the advice in Ephesians to live as children of light, truly seeing God’s creation.

Third Sunday in Lent -- Perseverance

Passages: Exodus 17:1-7, Psalm 95, Romans 5:1-11, John 4:5-42


"And we rejoice in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us." -- Romans 5:2-5

The Apostle Paul, imprisoned near the end of his life.

There is a certain danger in rationalizing suffering. It is important to see how God works in our lives, including our deepest trials, but it should not affect our sense of compassion and duty to each other when in need. Often, when Christians are faced with suffering they will either see God's wrath and punishment, or -- like Paul -- see God's blessings and how even the worst times can build up our character and faith. But we must also see the injustice of suffering, and act in accordance to the teachings and commandments of Christ.

Not all suffering is an injustice -- but all injustice causes suffering. There are certain agonies (the Greek word "agwn" or agon means a contest or struggle) that are a necessary part of life, and even a blessing as Paul suggests. But those tend to be the sufferings of the universal human condition: heartbreak, failure, sickness, injury and betrayals. These are all difficult parts of life, but part of its richness and wholeness. But there are sufferings that cannot be seen as blessings -- torture, rape and murder. Children dying from hunger or unsafe drinking water. The wholesale exploitation of human beings for greed and power.

True, even in the worst of human conditions (perhaps especially in the worst of human conditions) you can find great character and hope. The kind of hope that can only emerge the deepest of despairs. The Early Christians faced severe persecution and often gruesome, torturous treatment. Paul was beaten and arrested many times in his life, and is best known for his sense of mission and his perseverance (even more than his gift of pen and persuasion). And no doubt, Paul is able to write this inspiring passage because he knows first hand how his persecution has given him greater hope and connected him with the Holy Spirit. Yet these words were written to Christians during a time of persecution and limited power -- there was yet to be significant danger for the Early Christians to grow callous about the sufferings of others, or perpetuate systematic injustice against others.

Today, we are in a much different historical and social context. We must remember that these words come from the depths of persecution and social powerlessness. It was written to communities who were suffering together, and sharing hope for a better world through Christ together. It was meant to encourage them, and help them see how God continues to bless them even in these difficult times.

Two thousand years later, Christians still suffer and hope together. Paul's words resonate with them now as it did for the first Christians. But unlike the first Christians, the Church has great power and resources. We cannot let our understanding of suffering as a blessing -- and something that is part of God's plan for our lives -- dilute our mission of healing and compassion. We cannot pass the Samaritan on the road and not see someone in great distress.

Born from Above

Passages:

Genesis 12:1-4a, Psalm 121, Romans 4:1-5, 13-17 and John 3:1-17

Maybe it's the Sunday Schooler in me, but I have a soft spot for this style of religious artwork.

On being born again

Today’s lection in John 3:1-17 is one of the foundational passages to born-again evangelical Christianity. In this passage Jesus tells Nicodemus the Pharisee, “I tell you the truth, no one can see the kingdom of God unless he is born again” (John 3:3). Also in this lectionary passage is the famous John 3:16, “For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son,^[f] that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.” The evangelical view of salvation, for many, is laid bare in this passage. To achieve salvation, you must believe in Jesus Christ as the Son of God and be “born again.” Unfortunately, this passage is often interpreted in a highly legalistic, literal way that castes aside the compassion and mercy of God.

When I was a teenager I would visit my great grandmother in her retirement home. We were close, and I loved listening to her stories, particularly her early years in marriage with my great grandfather (during the Depression they moved about 3 or 4 times a year as my great grandfather hopped from temporary work to temporary work). She was a borderline fundamentalist, a family trait that was not passed down to her children. She would read this passage and worry that I was not truly saved. She pulled from the passage the absolute necessity of proper baptism, and to her that was complete submergence in the water. Politely, but unfailingly, every time I visited her she encouraged me to think about my baptism and consider a new one.

I knew better than to engage in a theological debate with my great grandma (I loved her too much anyway), but if I did I would have pointed to Luke 23:40-43, where Jesus tells one of the criminals on the cross, who asked to be remembered when Jesus comes into his Kingdom: “I tell you the truth, today you will be with me in paradise.” Jesus tells Nicodemus that unless someone is born again, they will not see the kingdom, but tells the criminal on the cross he will be in paradise with Jesus.

But this man was not baptized. This man did not recite a doctrine of belief. This man had done no good works. He simply acknowledged the divinity in front of him, when so many could not. He repented and came to Christ with honesty and sincerity. Luke does not mention this criminal being suddenly “born again.”

You may argue that Jesus made an exception to the rule – but I think it demonstrates that the born-again doctrine is overly literal and legalistic. In fact, if you want to get very literal about the passage, the Greek word used for “again” is “a;nwqen,” which also means “from above” – an equally plausible translation. Nicodemus interprets it as “again” by his reaction, but Jesus mocks him for his literalism and inability to understand the spiritual world: “You are a teacher of Israel … and do you not understand these things?”

Jesus also says, “Flesh gives birth to flesh, but the Spirit gives birth to spirit.” If you read this line through the lens of “born from above” instead of “born again,” it seems likely that Jesus is talking about a spiritual birth that is inherently separated from earthly signs.

I’m not arguing against baptism or renewing your life in Jesus Christ – baptism is an extremely meaningful sacrament that symbolizes being buried to sin and being “born from above” into new life in Christ. But it is the physical symbol for a very spiritual reality. It is not necessary to salvation, nor is a new life in Christ guaranteed.

It is the Spirit that truly baptizes, and that seems to come only when you acknowledge your own sin and look to the Lord with honesty and sincerity. To try and limit how this could happen to baptism or being “born again” places an unnecessary dogma to someone’s conversion and looses sight of what’s truly important: beginning a new life in Christ.