Faith Venture

A study group the other day discussed the passage from Matthew 6 where Jesus says to store up treasures in heaven rather than storing up treasures on earth. This is from a long list of “wisdom sayings” gathered in what we call the Sermon on the Mount.

I’ve heard this passage hundreds of times, but this week I’m meditating on the verb “store up.” I suppose from the first time I ever heard this, my mental image was that of a barn out on the farm that is full of things made from precious metals. Somehow this image didn’t really relate to me.

Consider the verse if we used a term common in today’s Western society and even growing in use globally–invest. What are you investing in? For there, we know what your goals and interests are.

Do I personally invest in the growth and health of my body, mind and soul? Or, do I invest in schemes to get rich quickly? Am I accumulating wealth out of worry and fear of the future? Or, do I share from my good fortune when I have some with those in need?

This idea works corporately, too. As a family. As a local church or fellowship gathering. Take for example your local church. Where does it invest its wealth? Does it emphasize maintaining the status quo–attractive building, pastors whose job is to nurture members, save for a rainy day? Or does it invest in helping others, reaching out to others, building a community center, help an unemployed single parent?

For, where you choose to invest your wealth reveals the depths of your heart. Invest in things that are timeless, not in the things that pass away.

Thanks to Seth Godin for compiling these quotes from Martin Luther King, Jr. I saw King in person just once—at a chapel service at Ohio Northern University. There were also the farmers at a downtown Ada breakfast spot who joked about running him off the road as he made has way from the airport out to the University through rural roads. We’ve come a long way since then—but there are still miles to travel.

These apply to our lives in many ways:

“Change does not roll in on the wheels of inevitability, but comes through continuous struggle. And so we must straighten our backs and work for our freedom. A man can’t ride you unless your back is bent.”

“On some positions, Cowardice asks the question, “Is it safe?” Expediency asks the question, “Is it politic?” And Vanity comes along and asks the question, “Is it popular?” But Conscience asks the question “Is it right?” And there comes a time when one must take a position that is neither safe, nor politic, nor popular, but he must do it because Conscience tells him it is right.”

. . .

“We must rapidly begin the shift from a “thing-oriented” society to a “person-oriented” society. When machines and computers, profit motives and property rights are considered more important than people, the giant triplets of racism, materialism, and militarism are incapable of being conquered.”

. . .

“The saving of our world from pending doom will come, not through the complacent adjustment of the conforming majority, but through the creative maladjustment of a nonconforming minority.”

Well, I’m traveling for Christmas. Anticipation of playing with the grandkids. Flying this year. Surprisingly few people flying out of Dayton today.

Mary traveled at this time, too. Don’t know exactly when she traveled and exactly when she arrived in Bethlehem. But she probably walked and rode a donkey, I suppose. Wonder how many of us could make that trip today given our reliance on luxury cars and airplanes?

And she was full of anticipation, too. But even more so. She was about to give birth. She knew the dangers of childbirth, but given the circumstances of her pregnancy, she must have felt confident. She had a clue about this special child she was carrying. Could she have had any premonition of what was to come during then next 32 or so years?

I’m not a woman, so I’ve never experienced all the emotions surrounding pregnancy and childbirth. I can imagine to a degree based on observation and being around it. We know that Mary pondered many things. She must have been quite meditative as the event approached. Talk about anticipation. She must have tested her patience to the extreme.

Today, I’m pondering the excitement, fear, anticipation, trepidation, joy, wonder that she must have experienced. But she grew into being a strong mother–of that I’m sure. And she brought up a strong man.

A full jar is of no further use. An empty jar is ready to be filled.

This is an ancient teaching. If you want the Spirit to enter your life, you must empty yourself in order for there to be room for the Spirit to reside.

It’s just a few days before Christmas. It’s usually a hectic time for Christians in today’s world. Presents to buy. Dinners to plan. Trips to plan. If your mind is constantly filled with all these thoughts, then where is the Spirit to enter?

To use Advent to prepare to celebrate Jesus’ entry into the world, it is useful to find time every day to stop. Stop the busy-ness. Stop the planning. Stop the worries. Just stop. Rest. Empty your mind by focusing on your breathing and allowing thoughts to drift away.

Now you can meditate on some part  of the Christmas story such as I have been exploring this month. Now you are letting the Spirit fill you. Now you can complete your tasks with a new outlook on life. You can plan that dinner in the Spirit of God rather than out of obligation. You can choose and give gifts out of love rather than simply tradition.

Stop now. Take a few deep breaths. Calm yourself. Focus on Mary preparing the manger to receive her baby.

Luke begins with the stories of two women. Elizabeth and Mary. Both became pregnant. Neither was supposed to. Zechariah, Elizabeth’s husband, fits in the story because he saw the vision that foretold Elizabeth’s pregnancy. Joseph is barely mentioned. Joseph is mentioned in Matthew’s Gospel only say that God informed him of what was happening so he wouldn’t bail out.

So, we have two women. Pregnant. Expecting, we call it. When we say that Advent is a season of preparing for the coming of the Messiah in anticipation, expectation, these two had it—in spades, as they say.

Those nine months had to be an agonizing experience. On the one hand, there was the promise each had received of God. On the other hand, childbirth was a scary experience. No doctors, nurses, drugs, hospitals. Could be fatal. It was wonderful anticipation of God redeeming, but also wonder and uncertainty about what it all meant.

For Elizabeth, it meant that the small-town gossips were quieted. She could have a child. She wasn’t a pariah of God. For Mary, on the other hand, it could well have started the small-town gossips to start up. Mary, you remember was supposed to be a virgin (well, we know she was, but you know how people are…).

Have you ever experienced these emotions? You know change is coming. But will it be positive and exhilarating; or will it be pain and suffering? Or, both? Well, either way, if that change is Jesus in your life, you will be able to bear the burden and overcome.

Luke must have liked Hebrew songs. For, in the first chapter of his book, he records another song. This one is from Zechariah, the father of John called The Baptist.

Let’s think about this one a little. Can you imagine Zechariah going home after his tour of duty at the Temple? Remember, he was chosen by lot to go into the Holy of Holies in the Temple to burn incense and offer prayers and sacrifices to God for the people. Instead, he saw an angel sitting there who told him he was about to become a father. Zechariah had some disbelief, so the angel struck him “dumb” that is, he couldn’t speak.

So, he goes home. Then he tries to tell Elizabeth, his wife, that they need to do what it takes to make a baby because God told him to. But he can’t speak. That must have been interesting. See, Elizabeth was most likely past child-bearing years. An American woman would just say, “Oh, right…” (well maybe not, but I could see that on a TV sitcom in my mind anyway).

However it happens, Elizabeth becomes pregnant. But Zechariah has to stay quiet for nine months. Then when the baby is born and is properly named, Zechariah can suddenly speak. All of this is miraculous and the people around are all amazed.

So does Zechariah say, “Wow, you’d never believe what happened to me in the Holy of Holies.” No, he sings a song. When you’ve had a deep spiritual experience, it’s difficult if not impossible to express it in mere prose. I’ve tried it. Just doesn’t happen.

Zechariah’s song is much different from Mary’s. He first recognizes God for fulfilling his promises given since Abraham to his people. Then he announces what the angel told him–that John will become the Prophet of the Most High announcing the forgiveness of sins. Then he announces the coming Messiah who will “give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the way of peace.”

I wonder if he, like Mary, went around singing that song as John grew up. After all, somebody remembered it so they could tell Luke. And songs are written to encourage memorization. But only with repetition. And, when you are in the Spirit, you sing truth you didn’t realize you knew.

Luke’s first chapter packs so much information that it’s hard to comprehend at times. One of the many interesting stories is where Mary, newly pregnant yet unmarried, leaves her home town (and probably the questions on everyone’s minds) and visits her relative Elizabeth–an older woman who also has become miraculously pregnant.

I imagine they knew each other despite the difference in age. They probably had large family gatherings such as one I’m about to endure, er, enjoy, this weekend. So, Mary could find some friendship and understanding with Elizabeth.

Thing is, when Elizabeth sees Mary, she is filled with the Holy Spirit and spontaneously announces, Blessed are you among all women. Mary, probably still coming to grips with what’s happening to her and finding trouble articulating them, responds with a song.

We call the song the Magnificat. It is a revolutionary song. First Mary responds personally to the call of God. Then she describes God’s mighty works of humbling the proud, honoring the poor. Read it–I know that Catholics recite it, but take your time going through this song and meditate on the phrases. What would the world be like if these all came to pass in the world as we know it?

Are you like me in thinking that this is the one time Mary sang this song (just because Luke didn’t give us the melody, doesn’t mean it wasn’t sung)? Why then did someone remember it so well that they could tell Luke about it?

John Ortberg who is senior pastor at Menlo Park Presbyterian Church opened my eyes a little last week when he talked about this song as a sort of lullaby that Mary would sing to Jesus when he was little. Don’t forget, Jesus came into the world human. He was a little baby just like we were. Someone had to train him and bring him up. Jesus often used these themes in his teaching. It makes sense.

So it makes sense that we return to these words on occasion and ponder them–just as Mary pondered the miraculous ways of God.

Spiritually wise people for centuries have counseled the wisdom of living only in the present. Those who live  in the future are usually filled with anxiety about what might happen, while those who live in the past usually are either basking in faded glory or full of recrimination for things done or left undone. Only in the present are you fully alive. Only this moment counts.

On the other hand, the calendar of the Christian church calls this the season of advent. This is the time of year where we recreate the anticipation of the coming of the Messiah in our lives. The Jewish people lived in anticipation of the coming of the Messiah–the Savior of the nation–for hundreds of years. At this time of year, we try to recapture that anticipation. When will he come? What will he be like? Will he cast out all our enemies and set us free?

Trouble is, we already know the end of the story. When Jesus did arrive in Israel, few people recognized him. He was a shock. Read Acts carefully, and you’ll discover that the early preachers and teachers spent their time in the current Scriptures explaining how they prove Jesus as Messiah. But, we know that.

So, I wonder if that’s why we have substituted Santa Claus. We live Decembers in anticipation of Santa and what gifts he’ll bring. It’s hard to live in anticipation of Jesus and the gifts he brings.

Knowing the story and living it are different things. Jesus still breaks through into people’s lives. He does still cast out our enemies and set us free. We just don’t understand it–at least, until it happens to us.

It’s true that you should live your life in the present moment, neither regretting the past or anxious about the future. But even now we can live anticipating Jesus breaking through the barriers we’ve erected around our lives, conquering our foes, bringing healing, peace and freedom.

Paul calls us “offspring” of God during his Greek argument for God and Jesus in Athens. Jesus often referred to us as God’s children. Paul began his argument by saying God is the creator of the world. He created us so that we would search for Him. Then we can be considered His children.

So, I have been wondering what this means. Since I am a student of science, I naturally begin to think of DNA. As children of our human parents, we inherit DNA from both of our parents. There is still a lot we don’t know about how DNA works, but we know some things. We know that the DNA we inherit gives us our skin, hair and eye color. We know that the DNA we inherit predisposes us to certain diseases or strength against others. We know as children of our human parents, especially if raised by our parents, we inherit how we look, but we also learn how to speak and act and live.

I guess we need to figure out what God’s DNA equivalent is. What is it I inherit from God? What is it I learn from God? If I am living with God, then I should pick up His mannerisms just as I picked up mannerisms from my parents.

Or, did I toss away God’s inheritance like the young man that Jesus describes in Luke? And then realize what I’d lost and return to God begging for forgiveness and acceptance–not as a son, but as a servant?

The translation I am now using has Paul say that we are to “grope” for God. When I read that word, the picture is sort of like this scene–I’m a child; it’s dark, maybe I was hiding in a closet; I can’t find Dad, but I know he’s around and I need his security; I grope in the dark knowing he’s close but I can’t find him. Ah, but when I do, it brings such a relief. Sort of like God, who is right here beside me. But I can’t see Him. Then I grope for Him. And when we make contact, then I know all is well.