Paragraphs from SSCSJ
A few paragraphs from Sacred Steps: Children’s Sermon Journal for Nov. 18.
Psalm 16
“The LORD is my chosen portion and my cup; You hold my lot” (v 5). This confident statement about the psalmist’s relationship with the LORD sums up the message of Ps 16 as a Hymn of Thanksgiving. Despite the fact that scholars often argue that a “hymn of thanksgiving” usually was preceded by a “lament”, Ps 16 does not seem to fit this description. There is no direct mention of a time of suffering endured by the psalmist or a reference to previous sinful acts of the psalmist, and the prayer does not contain a “witnessing” to having been saved from such an experience. Instead, Ps 16 reads like the words of a person who has always put their trust in the LORD and has known a relatively “happy” life. While the statement, “you do not give me up to Sheol” (v 10a), could be read as a possible reference to a near-death experience, that idea is not the thrust of the psalm’s message.
There have been those who read Ps 16, along with other biblical texts(1), and believe that such trust and happiness is the result of God having richly blessed this person. They would point to the psalmist’s claim, “The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places” (v 6a), as evidence that this person’s faith has been rewarded by material wealth. However, such a limited (and literal) reading of the poetic imager in v 6 lacks imagination and theological reflection. Here, the psalmist simply paints a picture of being content with all that she/he has received from the LORD, “a goodly heritage” (v 6b). If based solely on a sense of “reward” or “merit”, the confident trust expressed in Ps 16 would be too shallow to endure the full extent of life’s experiences. Rather, the psalmist reflects the faith of a person who is content with who and whose they are, regardless of material gain or loss. It is the kind of faith demonstrated in the life and teachings of Jesus, and as his followers, it is still possible for us. This contentment, though, does not mean an acceptance of injustice and hatred. Instead, if we strive for the Divine-human congruence, expressed in Ps 16 and in the way of Jesus, we will be freed to work for a world in which all of God’s children have the opportunity to reach their God-given potential.
1 Samuel 2:1-10
The story of Hannah is one of the few stories in the Hebrew Bible where a woman prays directly to God. Or, another way of putting this, she is one of the only women who dared to speak to God without having been spoken to first. Remember that Hagar does talk with the Divine, but only after she is invited into conversation by the messenger of the LORD. Hannah is not the first to do this, though. When she was having a difficult pregnancy, Rebekah confronted God seeking an answer for what was happening. Hannah’s story is about making and keeping promises. It would have been easy for her to renege on the promise to give Samuel over to God. After all, he was her only child, but she remains true to her words. Another important aspect of Hannah’s story that should be noted, especially as we are approaching the season of Advent, is that her hymn of praise is very similar in content and tone to Mary’s “Magnificat” (Lk 1:46-55). This parallel helps to link the stories of women in the Hebrew Bible with those of women in the Gospel of Luke. How did Mary know the story and song of Hannah? Was this a part of a matriarchal tradition that was passed from one generation to the next; perhaps Elizabeth taught Mary this tradition. In addition, as I have argued in other places, since Mary functions as a prophet in Luke, perhaps we can also see Hannah’s song as a prophetic proclamation about the God who desires justice and is concerned for the “least of these.”
Hebrews 10:11-25
Much of orthodox Christian doctrine “finds” (i.e., reads into) Jesus, and the “will of God” for Jesus, in the First Testament, despite the fact that Jesus does not exist, no matter how much one wants to claim that “prophetic” means “future-telling.”
There is good news, gospel, in the First Testament to be experienced and proclaimed, if one is willing to entertain that there is more to the gospel, the good news of God, than the person of Jesus of Nazareth or the Christ of faith. At best, the kind of interpretation found in Hebrews is “proof-texting”, a less formal way to describe eisegesis, which is pulling a text out of context to support one’s interpretation or theology. At worst, this approach becomes the kind of supersessionism that manipulates believers to dehumanize anyone that is not a Christian. Extremists, some of whom own their own media outlets, even divide-up Christians into the “saved” and “damned”, based on their rigid belief and faith. The Crusades, the Inquisition, and the Holocaust are historical examples of what can happen when adults argue over whose “god” is biggest or best and about who alone will benefit from the blessings of God. In some circles of Christianity, Judaism and Islam, the argument continues today, and the weapons of destruction are more horrific. Is it any wonder that, across the globe, the “non-religious” or “no faith” or “spiritual but not religious” groups are growing? The United States is not immune to supersessionism. Our nation uses the more subdued phrase, “manifest destiny”, to explain the “right” to take and exploit the natural resources of this land we call the United States of America. A visit to the National Museum of the American Indian will enflesh that story.
Provoke is a strong word that is used sparingly these days, and when uttered, it usually has the meaning of: to anger, enrage, exasperate, or stir-up negative emotion. In our culture it is more a description of what words, actions, images, commercials or cartoons “do”. Provoke is a delicious and provocative word, when applied to the life of a Christian and to Christian community. When were you last “provoked” into doing something right or something you did not want to do, but did it anyway? What do the liturgical seasons of Advent, Christmas, Epiphany, Lent, Easter, Pentecost, and Ordinary Time provoke in you or for you? Too often, Christians only “invoke” God and one another.
Mark 13:1-8
This is the last Sunday of the year that we will read Mark, and the Lectionary chose this scene of Jesus speaking “apocalyptic eschatology” language as the closing image before Thanksgiving and Advent arrive. Is it odd, but not really that odd. Here in the 21st century, all those things that Jesus mentions in the “beware” section of the text, vv. 5-8b, have happened, continue to happen, and are brought into view by TV, print media, and digital media, daily. One cannot help but notice that, on a global scale, living is as brutal in some parts of the world as it was in Jesus’ time. It’s important to remember that Jesus and the disciples have just left the Temple, where Jesus commented on the offering of a widow. Clearly, the disciples didn’t get what he was talking about because one of the disciples comments on the architecture of the Temple, and Jesus, in his tone and rhetoric, draws their full attention in v. 2. You have probably done something similar? You’ve said something or raised your voice to get a group’s attention, your child’s attention, or your spouse’s attention that was out of character for you or that you knew you would have to explain later.
“Beware” and “keep awake”, or “stay alert”, are tiresome in our culture because, right now, it seems that it is in the forefront of our minds every day since September 11, 2001. It makes one wonder what “fear” is good for and whom does fear benefit? It is a way to control a population, a congregation, and an individual. Responsible adults teach “healthy fear”, though some might call it “situational awareness,” in children about being wary of strangers and unknown persons for their own protection. While this message goes against the hospitality that Jesus offered strangers, in the dangerous world of today, it is absolutely necessary to keep our children safe. It seems we Christians live in an irreconcilable paradox about being citizens of the kindom of God now, as followers of Jesus, and also when the reign of God comes, whenever that is. Are we ushering in the kindom through every offer of hospitality rather than fear, of water rather than weapons, of the hand of Christian fellowship rather than the fist of Christian righteousness?
Note
(1). This is seen in the once popular The Prayer of Jabez (Multnomah Publishers, 2005), by Bruce Wilkinson, and others who peddle a “prosperity gospel”.