Like forefather, like son

Crash Course 3

            A young man strides onto the battlefield alone, his older brothers, all soldiers, keeping a safe distance. He wears no protective armor to face a seasoned warrior and carries no weapon except a sling and its ammunition of five small stones.

            Who doesn’t love the account of David and Goliath?

            I deviously inflict “routes” on my Old Testament Tour students. (The routes are really outlines, but I like to push the tour metaphor as far as I can.) My heading for
1 Samuel 16 – 17 is David Anointed and Tested. 

            In chapter 16, the prophet Samuel visits Jesse of Bethlehem to locate the next king of Israel. God reveals to Samuel that sons # 1 – 7 are not the chosen, and Samuel proceeds to identify # 8 as the chosen. “Then Samuel took the horn of oil and anointed him in the midst of his brothers; and the Spirit of the Lord came upon David from that day forward.” (1 Samuel 16:13, NKJV)

            In the Hebrew Scriptures, anointing with oil signifies a person has been chosen for a specific role, such as priest or king. In Hebrew, anointed is mashiach, which in English becomes messiah.

            Soon after David’s anointing, he finds himself on the battlefield for a test, a test he volunteered for. What are you made of, David? Apparently courage, self-confidence, gigantic faith, and eloquence.

            Then David said to the Philistine, “You come to me with a sword, with a spear, and with a javelin. But I come to you in the name of the Lord of hosts, the God of the armies of Israel, whom you have defied. This day the Lord will deliver you into my hand, and I will strike you and take your head from you. And this day I will give the carcasses of the camp of the Philistines to the birds of the air and the wild beasts of the earth, that all the earth may know that there is a God in Israel. Then all this assembly shall know that the Lord does not save with sword and spear; for the battle is the Lord’s, and He will give you into our hands.” (1 Samuel 16:45 – 47, NKJV)

            Goliath didn’t even have time to retort, “You and what army?” before David felled him with a rock and God’s name, YHWH. Then the older brothers and the rest of the army advanced to get in on the action.

            About a millennia later, a young descendant of David traveled from Nazareth in Galilee to the bank of the Jordan River in Judea and asked the prophet John to baptize him. “And immediately, coming up from the water, He saw the heavens parting and the Spirit descending upon Him like a dove. Then a voice came from heaven, ‘You are My beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.’” (Mark 1:10 – 11, NKJV)

            The newly anointed one was then led by the Spirit who anointed him to a wilderness battlefield for a test. He wore no protective armor to face a seasoned warrior and carried no weapon except God’s Holy Spirit within him and the Word of God. 

            What are you made of, Jesus?

            Jesus faced down a fiercer opponent than Goliath, and his forty day exam made David’s test look like a pop quiz with a word bank. (Read the whole story in Matthew 3 or Luke 4.) But like David, Jesus conquered with weapons described by Paul, “The weapons I fight with are not the weapons the world uses. In fact, it is just the opposite. My weapons have the power of God to destroy the camps of the enemy.” (2 Corinthians 10:4, NIRV)

            Like forefather, like son.

Remember Jesus Christ, raised from the dead, descended from David. This is my gospel, 2 Timothy 4:8, NIV

When did Jesus know?

Crash Course 2

            The title song of Jesus Christ Superstar asks Jesus, “Do you think you’re who they say you are?” My question is different. I wonder instead, “When did you know who you are?”

            We know very little from the Gospels about Jesus’ childhood, and extra-biblical sources have tried to fill in the gaps. The Infancy Gospel of Thomas, written in the second or third century, includes an account of five-year-old Jesus breaking the Sabbath by making birds out of clay. When Joseph scolded him, Jesus clapped his hands and the birds flew away. (from the Apocryphal Jesus:  Legends of the Early Church, edited by J. K. Elliott)

            As a sola scriptura kind of girl, I discount these kinds of stories, leaving me with the silence of the Gospels.

Matthew and Luke include details of Jesus’ lineage, conception, and birth, and Luke provides the only incident from the Lord’s childhood. Mark skips all of that, choosing to start his narrative “on the day that is different,” as modern authors are advised to do. John time-travels back to “the beginning,” asserting the pre-existence of the Word with the Father, but omits any childhood accounts.

            So when did the human, God-made-flesh Jesus understand his own identity? In manhood? Adolescence? Childhood? In the womb?

            Paul wrote in his letter to the believers in Philippi that Jesus existed “in the form of God, [but] did not consider equality with God as something to be used for His own advantage. Instead He emptied himself by assuming the form of a slave, taking on the likeness of men.” (Phillipians 2:6 – 7, HCSB)

            Theologians call this “emptying” of God attributes kenosis. The Holman Bible Dictionary explains,

“According to the kenotic theory, when the Son of God was incarnated as Jesus of Nazareth, He ‘emptied himself’ of some of His divine attributes (for example, omnipotence, omniscience, and omnipresence) and lived for a period on earth within the limitations of human existence. Jesus retained other divine attributes according to the theory (for example, holiness, love, and righteousness). Thus, while God is omnipotent (that is, all-powerful), Jesus' power while in the flesh was limited. While God is omniscient (that is, all-knowing), Jesus' knowledge was limited. Similarly, while God is omnipresent (that is, everywhere present), Jesus was limited with respect to space and distance. This theory is, then, an attempt to understand how Jesus could be both fully human and fully divine. This theory takes all of Jesus' human limitations with full seriousness without questioning the reality of His deity.” (http://www.studylight.org/dic/hbd/view.cgi?number=T3598)

            I’m thinking that toddler Jesus didn’t know he is God. But when did he know?

            When Mary and Joseph lost track of Jesus on the way home from the Passover celebration, they returned to Jerusalem and found him in the temple complex, in discussion with the teachers of the Law. The parents were miffed (as we parents always are) that the son has wandered off. In response, the son didn’t understand why they didn’t check the temple first. “Didn’t you know that I had to be in my Father’s house?” (Luke 2:49, HCSB)

            Jesus was twelve. Any of my sons would have said at age twelve, “Why didn’t you check the game arcade first?”

            How much of his identity did Jesus understand at age twelve?

            We encounter Jesus eighteen years later, having skipped his adolescence and young adulthood. He shows up at the Jordan River, asking John for baptism. The Father and Holy Spirit show up, too. “…the Holy Spirit descended on Him in a physical appearance like a dove. And a voice came from heaven:  You are My beloved Son. I take delight in You!” (Luke 3:22, HCSB)

            At this point, Jesus surely knows. But when did he know?

And there are also many other things that Jesus did, which, if they were written one by one, I suppose not even the world itself could contain the books that would be written. John 21:25

A Crash Course in Jesus

1. Join the Quest

           

            In the movie Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, Indy joins his father’s life-long quest to find the Holy Grail, the cup Jesus used at the Last Supper, and which caught his blood at the cross. The Nazis also seek the grail because, according to legend, whoever drinks from it will live forever. As the film reaches its climax, the elder Dr. Jones is fatally wounded, and Indy proceeds alone, driven to find the grail and restore his father’s life.

            He finally reaches the room where a 700-year-old knight guards a table bearing dozens of cups, any of which might be the true grail. His father’s detailed grail diary offers no clues for how Indy should choose, but he must choose quickly, as his father lies dying from a Nazi’s bullet. Trial and error is not an option; while water from the authentic grail grants eternal life, water from every phony grail brings agonizing death. He finally chooses a plain goblet hidden among the ornate jeweled chalices, reasoning a poor carpenter would own such a cup. “You have chosen well,” the knight says.

            My quest is to see Jesus more clearly, leading me to love him more dearly and follow him more nearly day by day, to paraphrase Godspell. How can you and I see him more clearly? 

            Like Indiana Jones, we are surrounded by confusing choices, each claiming to tell the truth about Jesus. Historians, theologians, philosophers, archaeologists, artists, poets, screenwriters, pastors, teachers and the person behind you in the check-out line—they all have an opinion about Jesus.

            Some Wiccans believe Jesus was a wizard, while Berg of the Kabbalah Centre in Los Angeles claims Jesus was a Kabbalist. Islam teaches Isa was a great prophet, but certainly not the Son of God. What—and whom—should we believe about Jesus? 

            My hope for my blog during Lent is to present a crash course in Jesus—his relationships, teachings, miracles, and more. For me and many of my readers, it will be a refresher course. I’ve been getting to know Jesus since 1966, and I still need constant reminding of what I supposedly know. 

            If you want to join my quest, check back each day.

These are written that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God,
and that by believing you may have life in his name. John 20:31

Lent: Giving Up or Giving?

            My former student told me she is giving up Starbucks for Lent. 

            Lent, starting this Wednesday, is “…a special time of prayer, penance, sacrifice and good works in preparation of the celebration of Easter,” writes Father William Saunders. (http://www.catholiceducation.org/articles/religion/re0527.html) Throughout the history of Lenten observance, giving up something has been a key practice.

            As a Baptist, Lent has been a hit or miss experience for me. When my husband was a full time pastor, our church often had Lenten Bible studies with our Methodist neighbors, sometimes using the Spiritual Adventure series by David and Karen Mains. It was a good time of study, prayer, and fellowship; however, we never talked about fasting. In fact, I seem to remember refreshments.

            When I worked as secretary for a United Church of Christ pastor, I saw his denomination emphasized Lent much more than Baptists. When I wondered aloud if I should give up chocolate, the pastor said he wouldn’t want to have to work with me if I did. So I didn’t.

            My young friend is not just giving up Starbucks. She is donating her estimated Starbucks expenditures to Catholic Relief Services Rice Bowl. (http://www.crsricebowl.org/) 

            She inspired me to revisit the idea of giving up something for Lent. I’m not foolish enough to think it should be coffee, even more necessary than chocolate to my own well-being and the safety of my family and students. Then I had the terrifying thought that I could give up purchasing new books for my Kindle from March 5 through April 20. 

            I bought myself a Kindle Paperwhite for my birthday in October, and it has been a source of enjoyment and comfort since I broke my ankles in early November. No hopping and hobbling around the house looking for something to read. No excursions to the library. Always something to read for 99 cents or for free. Reading in bed without a light. (Sigh of contentment.)

            So, no, I don’t want to give up my Kindle. And besides, the authors whose books I’m buying need an income, too. We don’t want to see any (more) homeless authors on the sidewalks trying to warm themselves with the air venting from their laptops, holding up signs, “Will Ghostwrite for Food.”

            But what I will do—and now I’m being serious—is match my Kindle purchases and direct the money to an organization that’s doing God’s work in the world. 

            I know Jesus instructed us to give secretly, not letting our right hand know what our left hand is doing. But I’m hoping, by telling you about it, you might be inspired to do something similar during Lent.

            Even as my student inspired me.

Epiphany and an epiphany

            We Baptists are somewhat spotty on our observance of official church holy days. Epiphany, January 6, is one of the more ignored dates, but a few FB friends and bloggers jogged my memory this morning, and today is indeed Epiphany.

            I love the word and its meanings, and I checked www.dictionary.com to make sure I am correct. With an upper case E, Epiphany is “a Christian festival, observed on January 6, commemorating the manifestation of Christ to the gentiles in the persons of the Magi; Twelfth-day.” 

            Isaiah 49:6 is one of several prophecies in the Hebrew Scriptures promising light to the Gentiles:  

he says:
“It is too small a thing for you to be my servant
    to restore the tribes of Jacob
    and bring back those of Israel I have kept.
I will also make you a light for the Gentiles,
    that my salvation may reach to the ends of the earth.” (NIV)

            As a believer with both Jewish and Gentile ancestry, I cherish my double inclusion. Tribes of Jacob? Check. Gentiles? Check. Ain’t it nice to be chosen twice?

            An epiphany (lower case e) is also “a sudden, intuitive perception of or insight into the reality or essential meaning of something, usually initiated by some simple, homely, or commonplace occurrence or experience.” I had one this morning.

            The “homely occurrence” preceding my epiphany was my cell phone sounding at 6:00 a.m., me not being able to comprehend and answer it in time, attempting to return the call and getting a busy signal, calling voice mail in my semi-conscious state to retrieve a message from my boss that we were on a two hour delay. Since I am waiting on delivery of a wheelchair—within fifteen minutes, according to Ron the Van Driver!—and the building of a simple ramp (to be completed on the Twelfth of Never) in order to return to work, I didn’t need to receive the cold, dark morning call.

            Then my husband, also semi-conscious, began interrogating me. “Why does he think you’re coming in to work?” He posed the question several different ways, as I squinted in the light of the single, bright light bulb hanging over my head.

            My husband drifted quickly back to sleep, a talent of his I don’t possess, and I lay there cursing November 5 for at least the sixtieth time. And suddenly a verse of scripture I have not thought of in the last sixty days, and probably for many months before, popped into my head. 

But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength;
they shall mount up with wings as eagles;
they shall run, and not be weary;
and they shall walk, and not faint. Isaiah 40:31, KJV

            One year several decades ago, this was our American Baptist Women’s Ministries theme, and I memorized it because of the song we used.

            This morning I felt like a character in a Karen Kingsbury novel, God speaking to me in italics. My epiphany.