Shalom

One sabbath Jesus was going through the grainfields; and as they made their way his disciples began to pluck heads of grain. The Pharisees said to him, “Look, why are they doing what is not lawful on the sabbath?” And he said to them, “Have you never read what David did when he and his companions were hungry and in need of food? He entered the house of God, when Abiathar was high priest, and ate the bread of the Presence, which it is not lawful for any but the priests to eat, and he gave some to his companions.” Then he said to them, “The Sabbath was made for humankind, and not humankind for the Sabbath; so the Son of Man is lord even of the Sabbath.”

This semester I took a course on Legislation. In our case book (that’s a type of text book with mostly cases in it, for my non-Cumberland readers), the authors made some comment saying that people sometimes confuse our system of laws with the uniformity present in the Bible. What was strange about the comment was that the authors were suggesting that while the laws of states are put together over time, amended, debated, hodge-podged, etc., that the Bible in internally uniform, consistent, and sort of dropped down ready made out from one set of heavenly lips. What a strange thing for anyone to suggest who has actually read it! Neither the “laws” in the Bible nor the laws in the Code of Alabama are that monolithic, as illustrated in part by this passage.

Jesus and his disciples, never really depicted in the gospels as having much food with them, were enjoying little handfuls of grain, freshly plucked and rubbed together to remove the kernels from their husks. This little bit of manual friction required to get at a snack of grain was seen by a group of observant Pharisees as “unlawful,” presumably violative of Exodus 34:21.

Now wait a minute! Just what were the Pharisees doing lurking about in a grainfield? And on the Sabbath, no less? I wish I had a good answer for you. I don’t. The best I can figure is that some folks have nothing better to do than watch and wait for some unsuspecting soul to happen by and contravene the law. I call those people the Alabama State Troopers.

Anyway, back to the story. According to Jesus, this particular point of law was not such an open and shut case. Rather than engage in debates over the canons of statutory construction, exegetical methodology, or interpretation, Jesus makes a great point about what laws actually are. What’s most important? The law which imposes a day of rest, or the day of rest, or the person for whom the rest is intended? Tough call, huh?

For those of us preparing for the legal profession, we spend much of our time honing our skills at spotting issues, applying principles to fact patterns, analyzing rationales, and generally pulling and tugging at the seems of the laws. Sure, occasionally, when our case isn’t as strong as we might like, we make appeals to “public policy.” But even for the most conscientious of us, it is tough to remember that without people, the law is meaningless. The sad irony in this particular story is that it illustrates that in all our enthusiasm for the good that the law can do, if we aren’t careful, we could find ourselves WORKING hard to enforce laws ENFORCING rest while forgetting to occasionally just give it a rest.

Let us remember to encourage one another rather than just hiding in the grainfields. Let us remember the human frailties the laws of God and humanity are meant to address. And let us not forget that there is a time to work and a time to rest.

What the Fig?

Jesus entered Jerusalem and went to the temple. He looked around at everything, but since it was already late, he went out to Bethany with the Twelve.
The next day as they were leaving Bethany, Jesus was hungry. Seeing in the distance a fig tree in leaf, he went to find out if it had any fruit. When he reached it, he found nothing but leaves, because it was not the season for figs. Then he said to the tree, “May no one ever eat fruit from you again.” And his disciples heard him say it.
On reaching Jerusalem, Jesus entered the temple area and began driving out those who were buying and selling there. He overturned the tables of the money changers and the benches of those selling doves, and would not allow anyone to carry merchandise through the temple courts. And as he taught them, he said, “Is it not written, ‘My house will be called a house of prayer for all nations’? But you have made it a ‘den of robbers.’”
The chief priests and the teachers of the law heard this and began looking for a way to kill him, for they feared him, because the whole crowd was amazed at his teaching.
When evening came, they went out of the city.

OK, I know on Palm Sunday I should probably post about, well, the triumphal entry. But hey, there’s gotta be at least a couple of churches in your town willing to cover that base for us, right? OK, good. This happens, in Mark’s Gospel, right after that, so this is all bonus material today.
So, after all the hubbub of Jesus getting to Jerusalem in time for the Passover celebrations, Jesus has a quick look around the temple, and leaves. Sounds kind of strange, doesn’t it? Or maybe not. In some ways, it sounds like what you and I might do after a long day of travel. You get to town, get your bearings, check into the hotel, and get some shut eye. You’ve had a big day and probably an even bigger one scheduled tomorrow.
Next day, Jesus is making his way back to town, and he’s a bit hungry. As luck would have it, from a distance Jesus is able to identify a fig tree. Let’s not rush too hastily over that detail. Jesus saw the fig tree initially off in the distance. It looked enough like a fig tree that might have fruit to warrant further inspection, even though it wasn’t “figging” season. Upon getting up to it, it turned out Jesus was dealing with a “poser” tree: all leaf and no fig. His response? “If you can’t feed me now, don’t bother thinking you’ll every produce again.” I have a fig tree right outside my backdoor in here in Birmingham. I literally just glanced out the back door, and although it has leaves all over it, they are spring leaves, bright, shiny, nothing to indicate I might get a fig off it. Nope, it looks nothing like the huge, dark leaves that thicken all over it when it drips with tasty figs-non-newton. Some of you know already the fate of that fig tree in Mark’s story. It withered from the roots inside of 24 hours. Jesus wasn’t angry just because an out of season fig tree didn’t have any figs. That would be ridiculous. The curse came about because the fig tree claimed to be something it wasn’t.
So, what’s worse than claiming to be all figgy when you’re really just leafy? How about turning the temple into a Wal-Mart? Or hey, how about turning a Wal-Mart into a temple? That kind of seems like a bad idea, too. In either case, Jesus made his point crystal clear: Get out. A friend recently pointed out to me that this was not just an occasion of blind, instantaneous Jesus-rage. Notice that he had seen the temple the evening before when he got to town prior to retreating to Bethany for the night. He didn’t just show up and start throwing punches. He’d at least slept on it for a night. (I bet the fig tree wished it had had a night to prepare!) Jesus makes his point especially clear by invoking a passage from the seventh chapter of Jeremiah. I really do recommend giving a read to the first eleven verses of Jeremiah 7. In that passage, the prophet is commanded to stand at the gate of the “Lord’s house” and tell the people that “the temple of the Lord” is not some kind of mantra or a hideout or refuge to flee to after a hard day of oppressing the widow and the alien, shedding innocent blood, stealing, committing adultery, and generally denying God in word and deed. Even more so, it is hardly the venue for staging and committing such acts. It reminds me of when we were kids and played “freeze tag” or “hide and seek” in which there was some kind of “home” or “base” where we were “safe.” That ain’t the game we’re playing here, saith the Lord: “Has this house, which bears my Name, become a den of robbers to you? But I have been watching! declares the Lord.” (Jer. 7:11). Shiver!
Unfortunately, not a lot has changed in the past couple of millennia. The examples of modern hucksters who still line their pockets from the trough of the “Christian” marketplace are amazing. Everything from the blatantly obvious money-sponge-televangelists to the gray areas of huge book deals from Christian leaders, the modern relic shops that offer “Christian” trinketry for the “godly” home, and even the local mega churches with in-house coffee shops, book stores, and product placements all invite the question: What are we doing here? Where do we draw the line between providing a nourishing environment for the people of faith and saying “There’s a time and place for everything, and this ain’t it!”? Well, I suppose there’s not what we in the legal profession call a bright-line test. Hey, we’re used to believers talking about judging a tree by its fruit, but what about its leaves? Maybe that is part of the answer. In my discussions with other believers about how much is too much “commercialism” in the church, I have gotten used to hearing people say things like, “Hey, if this (book, program, personality, etc.) brings people into the church, then it was all worth it.” Really? Leaves from a fig tree brought Jesus to it, but when it ultimately lacked fruit, it was deemed expendable. We as a people of faith run the same risk when we, both in our personal and ecclesiastical lives, try to attract people with . . . well, with what? Health? Happiness? Understanding? Wealth? Better families? None of these things are inherently bad, but if that’s all there is, those we attract will eventually walk away in fig-free-frustration for our lack of fruit. The things most needed are not for sale. You won’t find a price tag appropriate for prayer, salvation, or the communion of the saints.
One word of caution. Not everybody will see it this way, especially those in charge of the questionable situations. In Jesus’s case, those in charge failed to see the beauty of Jesus’s performance art critique. They decided that the things Jesus was teaching were getting too much of the crowd’s attention which had formerly been focused on the merchandising in the temple. As such, they decided the best plan was just to kill Jesus. But I guess that is the danger of turning the Lord’s house into a den of robbers. Your money might not be the only thing they are willing to take.

Jesus said there'd be days like this

Now John’s disciples and the Pharisee’s were fasting; and people came and said to Jesus, “Why do John’s disciples and the disciples of the Pharisees fast, but your disciples do not fast?” Jesus said to them, “The wedding guests cannot fast while the bridegroom is with them, can they? As long as they have the bridegroom with them, they cannot fast. The days will come when the bridegroom is taken away from them, and then they will fast on that day.”

We all want to get it right. And it shows. We want the promotion. We want to be able to put the “My Child is an Honor Roll Student” on our minivan. We want the date with that special someone. We (and by "we" I mean law students) want, even if we feel a bit self-conscious about it, to find our name on the scholar of merit lists. And we want to at least feel like we’ve gotten the spiritual things right as well. And so we ask the questions, the usual suspects: Which faith is right? Are they all right? Is Jesus the only way? If so, who is right? Catholics? Protestants? Which kind? Orthodox? Which Bible do you read? Were you baptized? Dunked or splashed? Infant or adult? The list gets absolutely dizzying. We look around ourselves at those who seem to have it together, and wonder if their apparent success is the harbinger of our own unsuspecting failure. And the good news is? Well, it is that this is nothing new.
In this passage of Mark’s Gospel, “people” come to Jesus with concerns. I like that. People. Not the disciples of John, not the disciples of the Pharisees, and not even Jesus’ disciples. People came, and they had a legitimate concern. Hey, if crazy old John’s disciples on the left and the dour Pharisees’ disciples on the right are BOTH fasting, why not Jesus’ disciples, and by inference, why not us? I mean, the people wanna get it right.
And I think we still do. Since we announced this service a little over a week ago, I’ve had a few more opportunities than I expected to discuss the meaning of Ash Wednesday, Lent, and fasting. Why do we fast during Lent? Nowhere in the Bible will you find the words Ash Wednesday, Lent, or Easter. Then again, you won’t find Christmas, either. So what does all this mean? In the nearly two thousand years of Christian history, believers have found numerous ways to celebrate, to mourn, to repent, to revive, to express their submission to the discipleship of Christ. And the fasting of the Lenten season has proven to be a durable form of this expression. It is not a universally observed discipline, but few are! So, who is right? The one who observes lent or the one who doesn’t? Um. Let’s get back to the text.
Jesus’ answer regarding fasting is illuminating. “Hey, this is not the time for fasting! I’m here!” Hmm. Good point. His answer really does point to the meaning of fasting. We fast as we mourn, recognizing our need of the forgiveness and grace of Christ. We fast as we hope. We look forward to the time when again Jesus will sit down together with his disciples in celebration and fellowship. And we fast as we pursue discipleship. We prepare ourselves not just for a season of reflection leading up to Easter, but for a life indicative of the eternity we profess to await. We fast not to draw attention to ourselves, but to draw ourselves to attention. We fast to remember. We are dust. To dust we will return. But the one who made us from dust will return for us. Until that time, these are the days Jesus told us about. May our fast proclaim the promise of forgiveness and the life eternal through the grace of Christ our Lord.
Amen.

Jesus said there'd be days like this

Now John’s disciples and the Pharisee’s were fasting; and people came and said to Jesus, “Why do John’s disciples and the disciples of the Pharisees fast, but your disciples do not fast?” Jesus said to them, “The wedding guests cannot fast while the bridegroom is with them, can they? As long as they have the bridegroom with them, they cannot fast. The days will come when the bridegroom is taken away from them, and then they will fast on that day.”

We all want to get it right. And it shows. We want the promotion. We want to be able to put the “My Child is an Honor Roll Student” on our minivan. We want the date with that special someone. We (and by "we" I mean law students) want, even if we feel a bit self-conscious about it, to find our name on the scholar of merit lists. And we want to at least feel like we’ve gotten the spiritual things right as well. And so we ask the questions, the usual suspects: Which faith is right? Are they all right? Is Jesus the only way? If so, who is right? Catholics? Protestants? Which kind? Orthodox? Which Bible do you read? Were you baptized? Dunked or splashed? Infant or adult? The list gets absolutely dizzying. We look around ourselves at those who seem to have it together, and wonder if their apparent success is the harbinger of our own unsuspecting failure. And the good news is? Well, it is that this is nothing new.
In this passage of Mark’s Gospel, “people” come to Jesus with concerns. I like that. People. Not the disciples of John, not the disciples of the Pharisees, and not even Jesus’ disciples. People came, and they had a legitimate concern. Hey, if crazy old John’s disciples on the left and the dour Pharisees’ disciples on the right are BOTH fasting, why not Jesus’ disciples, and by inference, why not us? I mean, the people wanna get it right.
And I think we still do. Since we announced this service a little over a week ago, I’ve had a few more opportunities than I expected to discuss the meaning of Ash Wednesday, Lent, and fasting. Why do we fast during Lent? Nowhere in the Bible will you find the words Ash Wednesday, Lent, or Easter. Then again, you won’t find Christmas, either. So what does all this mean? In the nearly two thousand years of Christian history, believers have found numerous ways to celebrate, to mourn, to repent, to revive, to express their submission to the discipleship of Christ. And the fasting of the Lenten season has proven to be a durable form of this expression. It is not a universally observed discipline, but few are! So, who is right? The one who observes lent or the one who doesn’t? Um. Let’s get back to the text.
Jesus’ answer regarding fasting is illuminating. “Hey, this is not the time for fasting! I’m here!” Hmm. Good point. His answer really does point to the meaning of fasting. We fast as we mourn, recognizing our need of the forgiveness and grace of Christ. We fast as we hope. We look forward to the time when again Jesus will sit down together with his disciples in celebration and fellowship. And we fast as we pursue discipleship. We prepare ourselves not just for a season of reflection leading up to Easter, but for a life indicative of the eternity we profess to await. We fast not to draw attention to ourselves, but to draw ourselves to attention. We fast to remember. We are dust. To dust we will return. But the one who made us from dust will return for us. Until that time, these are the days Jesus told us about. May our fast proclaim the promise of forgiveness and the life eternal through the grace of Christ our Lord.
Amen.