A tale of two angels

An angel is a messenger. The wings we ascribe to them are most likely optional accessories, like a sunroof on a car. We can make much of what artists, cartoonists, and novelists have shown about the physical nature of angels, but there are three certainties about them in this tale of two angels:
  • They bring announcements from God. Sometimes, they are words of a personal assignment, such as that to a young Jeremiah to bring truth to his troubled nation or declarations of an impending birth that changes the world for all time.
  • They understand humankind enough to add tender words to the announcement, words of calm, comfort, or tranquility—words like “Fear not.”
  • They bring news, a statement, or notice. Something will happen—be alert, get ready, and prepare to respond.

Unexpected pregnancy

Zechariah was an elderly priest who had served God well into his advanced years. Alongside him stood Elizabeth, who had never been able to conceive a child. They were called “righteous before God.” The messenger of God calmed Zechariah, “Do not be afraid,” and announced the impossible. “Your prayer has been heard…your [elderly] wife Elizabeth will bear you a son.” Zechariah, the religious professional, responded with a question about control, “How will I know?” He wanted information, the answer to which will become evident as Elizabeth proceeds through her pregnancy.

Receive, respond, proceed

Meanwhile, the messenger of God appeared to Mary, identified only as “a virgin,” an innocent. Mary received three things from the angel:
  • A new name. “Most favored one.”
  • Troubling news. Mary’s new favored status with God brought with it an unwanted pregnancy, something that would bring shame, shunning, and rejection by her community.
  • A life-defining purpose. Her son will one day sit on the throne of David. Jesus’ purpose and Mary’s are now and forever will be inter-related.
  Mary responds with “honest grace” [1]. She was troubled at her new name, “most favored one,” but filled with awe and wonder at the pregnancy announcement. Unlike Zechariah, Mary responds with holy fear and wonder, “How will this be since I am a virgin?”   Mary proceeds without knowing.
  • She says yes. Like “no,” yes is a complete sentence. Perhaps the most profound declaration of faith we have in our language is: “Behold, I am the servant of the Lord… let it be…” I go along, accept, and accede to this assignment, even though I don’t understand it all.
  • She committed without knowing what it all would mean. “She pondered all these things in her heart.”
  • Mary found her voice in one of our most profound songs in Christian history called the Magnificat (Luke1:46ff). 

Beneath the angel’s wings

And Gabriel? “She struck him as hardly old enough to have a child at all, let alone this child. But he had been entrusted with a message to give her, and he gave it. He told her what the child was to be named, who he was to be, and something about the mystery coming upon her. ‘You mustn’t be afraid, Mary,’ he said. As he said it, he only hoped she wouldn’t notice that beneath the great golden wings, he himself was trembling with fear to think that the whole future of Creation hung on the answer of a girl.” [2]   Practice: How will you respond this year when you hear familiar words: “Unto you is born…a savior, he is Christ the Lord.”   [1] Kathleen Norris, Watch for the Light: Readings for Advent and Christmas [2] Frederick Buechner, Peculiar Treasures  

My oldest brother Jerry

Yesterday brought the conversation one hopes never to have: My oldest brother Jerry, severely brain-damaged at birth, was given a diagnosis of likely cancer. The treatment for his weakened body would be invasive and painful, with uncertain results. 

A painful choice was made through tears, prayer, and loving conversation. Jerry would be placed in hospice care. Four siblings of a gentle and loving 80-year-old man made the decision, which was painful yet hopeful. 

Gordon Cosby, from Church of the Savior, once said we must realize that we all sit next to someone seated next to their own pool of tears. To love one another and to listen to one another and to help each other grow as apprentices of Jesus, we are invited by life to pay attention to our own tears of grief. Read More

Learning to Listen

Dietrich Bonhoeffer, a German pastor killed by the Nazis for his resistance to Hitler, understood Jesus’ primary message: “The first service one owes to others in a community involves listening to them. Just as our love for God begins with listening to God’s Word, the beginning of love for others is learning to listen to them, to their story, to their words…We do God’s work for our brothers and sisters when we learn to listen to them.” [1]

As our biblical grounding image, I want us to start with a text we call the Transfiguration. You know it, I am sure: Jesus standing with two icons of the Jewish faith, Moses and Elijah, and three who would become icons of the Christian faith: Peter, James, and John. As usual, Peter did a lot of unnecessary talking. Luke described it as Peter “not knowing what he said.” The contrast was another voice, a memorable word from the cloud, the voice of Abba, who thundered what may have been a rebuke to Peter but gave a word for all who hunger and thirst to go deep. Do you remember the sentence? “This is my Son, my Chosen…” and then three words to burn into our hearts, “…listen to him.”  (Luke 9:35) Read More

Identity in a post-election world

We used to talk about identity as a spiritual statement of the person we are, the community in which we live, or the nation with whom we stand. Some substitute a marketing term today and ask, “What is your brand? How do you want people to react to your brand, your persona?”

So, I ask: Is follower of Jesus my “brand?” Bono answers: “I’m not a very good advertisement for God. I generally don’t wear that badge on my lapel. But it certainly is written on the inside somewhere.”[1]

He’s on to something, this artist, activist, and follower of Jesus.

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Paying Attention to Jesus

We learn not only by paying attention to Jesus’ words but also the way he lived his life. Following Jesus as our rabbi means three things:

  • You spend time with Jesus
  • You seek to become like Jesus
  • You do as he did. [I]

What were Jesus’ most common classrooms as rabbi?

Have you ever noticed how Jesus’ journey took him from seashore to desert, from urban centers (Jerusalem) to rural Nazareth, and to any place people gathered to listen? He taught in vivo—life as it is lived in real-time. And don’t miss this: along the way, Jesus ate meals with his students and with others, including marginalized people, social outcasts, and those unwelcomed by many. The road and the table formed a paradigm for how Jesus practiced his service to others.

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At the Table

Company of others

This is a new offering from VP3’s A Mentoring Way, a resource for following Jesus in the company of others.

Think of this blog as a favorite comfortable chair with a table for coffee, tea, or your favorite beverage. A space that allows you to feel at ease, welcomed, and ready for spiritual exploration. On this table, we will set images, provocative questions, quotes from spiritual writers, poetry, stories, and always a fresh look at scripture, the living voice of the living God for going deep into your own living faith.

 

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Mentoring matters.

Mentoring matters.

I have been rereading David Kinnaman’s essay, “The Need to Rediscover: Mentoring as a Crucial Formation Process.” He thoughtfully writes about the need for mentoring among young adults within the Church. His conclusions stretch far beyond the confines of young adult faith development into the whole lifespan of adult faith development. His last three paragraphs capture both the challenge and the opportunity before us as men and women who care deeply about helping others develop and mature in Christ. Kinnaman writes,

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