To discern the will of God—to know the mind of God: these phrases express what all who
wrote holy scripture, all who read that scripture, all who pray to God, all who
worship God seek. Luke Timothy
Johnson, the theologian and scholar, on one of the videos from our Lenten
series used a phrase to describe those who wrote what has become accepted as
holy scripture this way: “intoxicated with God.”
Most, if not all of us, have either been intoxicated at least once
or been with someone who was intoxicated.
This is not such a positive image—in fact, I would call it a negative
image. But I think Professor
Johnson is asking us to view “intoxication” in a different way—as being
completely overtaken by, completely filled with an awareness of God's presence
in one's life and the life of the world.
So each recounting of the history of God's chosen people, each
prophecy, each story from the life of Jesus, each letter to the early church
with admonitions and theological teaching flows from a state of intoxication
with God. This does not mean that
scripture is untrustworthy; rather, it means scripture comes from the hearts
and minds of people whose lives have been caught up fully in the divine life of
God.
In this divinely “intoxicated” writing, we find many themes. Two primary ones are: God who judges
those who stray from the path of righteousness and God who saves by God's
grace and mercy—unmerited grace and mercy—grace and mercy we have done nothing
AND can do nothing to earn. When
we allow ourselves to be open to the experience God's grace and mercy, we find
ourselves called to respond by suspending our tendency to judge and by
sharing God's compassion. In doing
these things we allow God's grace to be manifest in our lives.
I want to
share a story with you. It comes from a sermon published online on a website
called Day One. The preacher is a
Lutheran pastor and seminary professor, Dr. David Lose. He wrote: “Tom, a member of our congregation,
told me a story. Several nights earlier, Tom's six year-old son, Benjamin,
protested his bedtime. Frustrated by his father's refusal to budge, Benjamin
finally became so frustrated that he said, "Daddy, I hate you!" Tom,
possessing the presence of mind I wish I more frequently had--especially when
dealing with my children--replied, "I'm sorry you feel that way, Ben, but
I love you." And then what do you think Benjamin said? "Oh, it's
okay." Or maybe, "Sorry, Dad. I love you, too." Nope. When Tom
told his son that he loved him, Benjamin yelled back, "Don't say
that!" Surprised, Tom continued, "But, Ben, but it's true--I love
you." "Don't say that, Daddy." "But I love you, Ben."
"Stop saying that, Daddy! Stop saying it right now!" And then it came,
Tom reported, almost completely unbidden: "Benjamin, now listen to me: I
love you...like it or not!"
Dr. Lose
continued: “Even at six years old, you see, Benjamin realized that in the face
of unconditional love he was powerless. If Tom had been willing to
negotiate--"I'll love you if you go to bed nicely"—then
Benjamin would have been a player: "Okay, this time, but I'm not eating my
vegetables at dinner tomorrow." But once Tom refused to negotiate, refused
to make his love for his son conditional on something Benjamin did, then Ben could
do nothing but accept or flee that love.”
Yes, that
is our choice, too: once we have glimpsed God's love, we can accept God's love
or we can flee away. Those
God-intoxicated folks who wrote down their experiences of God, which we read in
holy scripture, may have felt like fleeing at times, too. But in the end they chose to accept
God's love and grace. The psalmist
[Psalm 139: 7-12] expressed this well:
“Where can I go from your spirit?
Or where can I flee from your presence?
If I ascend to
heaven, you are there; if I make my bed in Sheol, you are there.
If I take the wings
of the morning and settle at the farthest limits of the sea,
even there your hand
shall lead me, and your right hand shall hold me fast.
If I say, “Surely
the darkness shall cover me, and the light around me become night,
even the darkness is
not dark to you; the night is as bright as the day, for darkness is as light to
you.”
In the scripture passages we read during Lent,
we usually find a theme of God's judgment in them. Lent should be a time for us to reflect on where we have
fallen short of living as people fully responding to God's grace. But dwelling only on our sinfulness—or
the sinfulness of others—cuts off the full picture. The full picture of God's loving grace appears again and
again in holy scripture. It may be
enacted—as when Jesus and his disciples fed the multitude of hungry people
with five loaves and two fish. Or
it may be explained—as in the Gospel of John [3:21] with these words: “But
those who do what is true come to the light, so that it may be clearly seen
that their deeds have been done in God.”
To discern the will of God—to know the mind of
God: let us use this holy season of Lent to read holy scripture, to pray to
God, and to listen for God both alone and in our faith community of St.
Nicholas'. May we use
this time not only to recognize our sinfulness and ask for forgiveness; but may
we use this time to allow ourselves to accept God's grace. Then through our deeds—within our
families, within the life of our faith community, and within the life of the
world, may God's grace bring healing and peace.
No comments:
Post a Comment