Author Archives: Cole Bodkin

Many emotions welled up within me as I heard the news of the recent tragedy break. But the one that unexpectedly stood out was awe.

Awe? How can you feel a sense of awe after hearing the news of such a heinous and horrendous act of racial dehumanization?

Because my brothers and sisters at Emmanuel AME loved their neighbor. Furthermore, they loved their enemy. Let that sink in for a moment. What could have possibly been going on in their minds when this 21-year-old white guy walked into their midst? Whatever it may be (it’s all speculation), their actions spoke loud and clear. We do not know all the details of what transpired in that sanctuary, but what we do know is that that small group invited a suspicious white male to join them in studying God’s Word, and most likely to pray with them. They welcomed a person from a different background and a different race to experience the Lord.

Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.

They were with him for at least an hour before he opened fire. An hour. Most violent acts happen in a matter of seconds, but he didn’t bust open the door and unleash hell immediately. It took time. Maybe he was stalled, because he came into the presence of the living Lord through the body of Christ. They spent time with him, because love involves both presence and time.

Roof admitted that he almost didn’t go through with it because of how nice they were to him.

Love is patient, love is kind.

As usual, most of the media is focusing on the bad news: an awful hate crime. Or they’ll eventually excuse it by reducing it to a mental disorder.

What if we go further with it and stare it in the face? Racism is an extension of evil and sin. And let’s go even further: this wasn’t just an act against African Americans, but this was also an act against the Lord Jesus Christ and his people. Rev. Clementa Pinckney, Cynthia Hurd, Rev. Sharonda Coleman-Singleton, Tywanza Sanders, Ethel Lance, Susie Jackson, Depayne Middleton Doctor, Rev. Daniel Simmons, and Myra Thompson aren’t only victims of a hate crime. They were also martyrs. They were bold and faithful witnesses to the Lord unto the end. They became the gospel in flesh and blood. They took seriously the vocation of picking up their crosses and following Jesus. I’m in awe and honored to be a sibling in Christ to these men and women.

And now we have seen videos of the families who are forgiving Dylann Roof.

That’s right. They have the power to forgive or retain his sin, and they’ve chosen the former.

Forgive sins and they are forgiven. Retain sins and they will be retained.

Let’s remember the faithfulness of these brothers and sisters, their willingness to embody the love of Jesus Christ, and their example of how to be a testimony to Christ in the 21^st century.

While they were talking about this, Jesus himself stood among them and said to them, “Peace be with you.” They were startled and terrified, and thought that they were seeing a ghost. He said to them, “Why are you frightened, and why do doubts arise in your hearts? Look at my hands and my feet; see that it is I myself. Touch me and see; for a ghost does not have flesh and bones as you see that I have.” And when he had said this, he showed them his hands and his feet. While in their joy they were disbelieving and still wondering, he said to them, “Have you anything here to eat?” They gave him a piece of broiled fish, and he took it and ate in their presence.

Then he said to them, “These are my words that I spoke to you while I was still with you—that everything written about me in the law of Moses, the prophets, and the psalms must be fulfilled.” Then he opened their minds to understand the scriptures, and he said to them, “Thus it is written, that the Messiah is to suffer and to rise from the dead on the third day, and that repentance and forgiveness of sins is to be proclaimed in his name to all nations, beginning from Jerusalem. You are witnesses of these things. And see, I am sending upon you what my Father promised; so stay here in the city until you have been clothed with power from on high.

There goes Jesus eating again. Eating fish with fisherman. Have you ever read through the Gospels and noticed how often Jesus is eating? Why is that? With the exception of birthday parties and my wedding, I really don’t think I would have anyone include meals in my biography. So why waste the precious ink?

Believe it or not, I think eating was central to Jesus’ mission. That’s right, the mundane and ordinary routine of sharing fellowship over a meal was a staple to Jesus’ missional diet, and I think this carries forward to the church today as well. In fact, I think there is a missional motif in Luke’s Gospel revolving around the word “fish.” So we shouldn’t be surprised to find the fisher of men eating fish with his fishermen disciples in this scene. Yes, we could spend all day talking about eating the fish and the significance of it for Jesus’ physicality of being raised from the grave. But, I think the fish points to something else, a sign, a symbol, a reminder of who the disciples are called to be and what they are called to do.

Besides our passage, there are three other places where we find the word “fish” in Luke’s Gospel.

Back in Luke 5 there is a crowd surrounding Jesus while he’s teaching God’s Word when all the sudden he sees some fishermen washing their nets. They are a little down because they worked hard all night and couldn’t land a catch. You know how the story goes. Jesus gets into Peter’s boat, continues teaching the crowds, and tells Peter where to cast the nets. They pull in the motherlode, so much so that the large quantity of fish causes the boat to sink. Swept off his feet, Peter falls down at Jesus’ feet and says, “Go away from me Lord, for I am a sinful man!” James and John, likewise, were frozen in fear. Jesus tells them, “Do not fear, from now on you will be catching people.” Fishing for people, eh? They drop everything and follow him.

Next we encounter another miraculous event, Jesus feeding the multitudes the 5,000. Prior to the miraculous feeding, Jesus sends the disciples out on a mission. After a quick debrief, the disciples ask Jesus to send away the crowds so that the crowds can find lodging and food. Jesus snaps back, “You feed them.” Baffled, the disciples say they only have five loaves and two fish, which cannot possibly feed everyone. Jesus tells them to set the people in rows of 50, then he gives thanks to God, blesses it, breaks the bread, and kept handing them to the disciples until all ate and were satisfied. The broken pieces that were leftover were picked up, which were 12 baskets full. Sounds eerily similar to God providing manna in the wilderness to the Israelites. Mary’s prophetic prayer that Jesus “has filled the hungry with good things” seems to have been fulfilled. Fishing and feeding.

The last reference to fish is with regard to prayer. Jesus compares praying to God, like a son asking his father for a fish. Of course the parent isn’t going to give the son a snake instead of a fish. Who would do that? Then Jesus says, “How much more then, will your heavenly Father give you the Holy Spirit to those who ask him?” Fishing, feeding, and the gift of the Holy Spirit. Hmm.

Fast-forward to the Emmaus Road. Our congregation loves the “Walk to the Emmaus” so I’ll trust you are familiar. In that scene Cleopas and his fellow companion are walking on the road to Emmaus when a guy interrupts and decides to join them. They do not recognize that the person travelling with them is Jesus until he breaks the bread. Like Jesus breaking the bread before feeding the multitudes, or breaking the bread for the Last Supper, it is in the breaking of bread in which their eyes were opened and they realized that Jesus was in their midst. Strangely enough our passage follows the Road to the Emmaus. After Jesus eats the fish he opens their minds to Scripture, and how he is revealed in it so that the disciples might be His witnesses. Bread and Fish. Hmm. Sounds familiar. Anything in our passage about the Holy Spirit? Well immediately after our passage Jesus tells the disciples to wait to be clothed on High, that is, filled with the Holy Spirit at Pentecost before they go out. Hmmm. Do you see a pattern here?

If I am losing you, let me try to reel you back in: the disciples are fed in order that they may go out and feed the multitudes. You know the saying, “Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day; teach a man to fish and you feed him for a lifetime.” A huge proportion of Jesus’ ministry was teaching these fishermen how to fish for God’s kingdom. And guess what, it’s not as complicated as you might think. Preparation for effective ministry comes through studying God’s Word and being empowered by the Holy Spirit through prayer. Simple enough. You don’t have to be an apostle to do that.

Sometimes I think we make church way more complicated than it has to be. What if it was as simple as studying God’s Word, Spirit-filled prayer, and going out and feeding people physically, emotionally, and spiritually? We should all take seriously Jesus’ command before the miraculous feeding: “you feed them.” He’s equipped us. What are we waiting for?

Remember how much we see Jesus eating with people all the time in the Gospels? The simple and uneventful act of eating with people was central to his mission, and it’s not that difficult. That’s what the early church did. They met with one another in their homes, breaking bread, and telling others about Jesus. Likewise, when we invite others to share a meal, this is extremely meaningful cross-culturally. When we eat together, we discover the inherent humanity of all people. We share stories, hopes, fears, and disappointments. People open up to each other. And we can open up to them to share the same things, including telling them about the truly human one…

Hear this letter from the 4^th century Emperor Julian to his officials about those pesky, atheist Christians, their hospitality, and the fear that they will take over the Roman Empire with their meals:

We must pay special attention to this point, and by this means affect a cure [for the “sickness” of Christianity]. For when it came about that the poor were neglected and overlooked by the [pagan] priests, then I think the impious Galileans [Christians] observed this fact and devoted themselves to philanthropy. And they have gained ascendancy in the worst of the deeds through the credit they win for such practices. For just as those who entice children with a cake, and by throwing it to them two or three times induce them to follow them, and then, when they are far away from their friends cast them on board a ship and sell them as slaves…by the same method, I say, the Galileans also begin with their so-called love-feast, or hospitality, or service of tables—for they have many ways of carrying it out and hence call it by many names—and the result is that they have led very many into atheism [i.e. Christianity]. (from Michael Frost’s Five Habits of Highly Missional People, p. 12)

Imagine that? Sharing meals and sharing Christ with others was subversive to the Roman Empire. They feared that the Christians would take over.

Michael Frost in his Five Habits of Highly Missional People helps us out with the who, what, and how of eating meals with others. It’s really pretty simple, and not complicated. Look, most of us eat 21 meals a week. Let’s be honest. We Memphians might have even more. But dedicate at least three meals with others a week. That’s not too hard. Get into that rhythm, and then it becomes a habit.

So what does a meal look like? Well it can be as grand as an ornate, elaborate dinner party or the bare minimum of coffee and a donut.

Whatever it may be, sit across the table from three people this week and talk. Who should we eat with? Frost suggests that we missionally eat with one person who is not a church-goer. If you want to take this further, eat with someone who may or may not be able to repay you. But, don’t be surprised if people invite you over for a meal, in return. And don’t be surprised by their eating habits.

Also, eat with fellow disciples. I recently started something called “Table Groups.” This is a young adult initiative where we meet and eat together. We share life. We pray. We encourage one another. There are various components that I try to incorporate into our time. One might call it a table liturgy. I’d love to see this implemented on a church-wide scale. It would foster community and intergenerational fellowship, and guess what? It’s modeled after the early church. It’s not complicated. We can grow as a church by doing the simple act of eating and sharing our lives with one another around a table. If this is something that you might be interested in doing, please talk to me after the service, or email me. I’d love to see us get to know one another on a more personal level by just being human and connecting through breaking bread.

So, let’s feed people physically, emotionally, and spiritually. Let’s get in a habit of eating with at least three people per week, one being a non-churchgoer. Let’s grow in fellowship so that we can mutually encourage one another as we go fishing.

I still find one of the most fascinating things in the world to ponder about is that when Jesus wanted his disciples to reflect on his death, he didn’t give them a theory, but a meal. Let’s now prepare ourselves for his meal: may our eyes be opened to Jesus in the breaking of the bread. May our minds be opened to the Word we just heard, and may we be fed so that we can go out and bring more people to feast with us here.

In his latest book, The Death of the Messiah and the Birth of the New Covenant: A (Not So) New Model of the Atonement, Michael Gorman argues that the ultimate purpose of Jesus’ atonement was to “create a transformed people, a (new) people living out a (new) covenant relationship with God together. Moreover, this people will not simply believe in the atonement and the one who died, they will eat and drink it, they will be baptized into it/ him, they will be drawn to him and into it. That is, they will so identify with the crucified savior that words like “embrace” and “participation,” more than “belief” or even “acceptance,” best describe the proper response to this death.”

Certainly the Last Supper is of great import when we reflect upon the Lord’s death and its significance for his disciples. For many, Maundy Thursday might be one of the few times that they will partake in the Lord’s Supper. So it might be worth more reflection, before we “do this in remembrance” of Jesus.

Intriguingly, it is only in this scene where we find the word “covenant” coming from the mouth of Jesus. While most of us are eager to gravitate towards high-volume words, this is an instance where less is more, and it deserves much more attention.

While this word “covenant” tends to grab our attention, especially with the idea of it being a (re)new(ed) covenant (Luke 22:20; see Jeremiah 31:34), I was recently made aware of something extremely significant preceding it, for which the word covenant is describing, namely, the “blood” of the covenant (Mark 14:24 and parallels).

We may suppose that this has something to do with the Passover meal, since, after all, the Evangelists introduce us to this meal by mentioning that it took place during Passover. But as Paul Penley states, “[t]he Bible never calls the blood of the Passover lambs in Egypt the “blood of the covenant.” The “blood of the covenant” first comes from the oxen sacrificed in Sinai mentioned in Exodus 24. The only other reference to “blood of the covenant” in the Bible refers to the sacrificed body of Jesus. That connection must not be missed” (Reenacting the Way (of Jesus), p. 196). After doing this, they have a meal (Exodus 24:11).

What is the significance? Well, before Moses sprinkles the blood of the covenant on the people, the people commit themselves (twice!) to do something: “all that the Lord has spoken we will do, and we will be obedient” (Exodus 24:3, 7). So if this happens to be the background, what sort of implications would this entail for those of us who partake of the Lord’s Supper today? Penley explains,

The “blood of the covenant” doesn’t just signify God’s willingness to accept a sacrifice as payment for human sin. It signifies a two-way commitment. God will reach out and over the sins of many, but those whom he reaches have a major responsibility. The responsibility is obedience. God’s ways become your way of life if you want God’s sacrifice to become your forgiveness (197).

Newsflash: that’s how covenants work! A covenant between parties is a two-way street. We aren’t mere recipients of Jesus’ salvific act. We aren’t coming to the table just to “remember,” and proclaim a big hearty “thank you.” We are called to obedience, to be faithful to the covenant in which we have been inaugurated. We are eating and drinking the atonement. We are being baptized into it. We are committing ourselves to the baptismal life, the-dying-and-rising-to-Christ life.

Some may feel suspicious towards this “background” info. Check out the discussion of the old and new covenant in Hebrews 9 where we find the author arguing “how much more will the blood of Christ, who through the eternal Spirit offered Himself without blemish to God, cleanse your conscience from dead works in order to serve the living God” (Hebrews 9:14). Paul, likewise, states that “[Christ] died on behalf of all in order that those who continue living might no longer live for themselves, but for the one who died on their behalf and was raised (2 Corinthians 5:15).” He died for us, we die daily for Him.

Do we realize that when we take the bread and wine we are committing ourselves to faithfulness to God?

Penley suggests we help set the stage for the seriousness of the Lord’s Supper by responding in unison to the biblical reading: “all the words which we have spoken, we will do.” Another practical suggestion is:

reading out loud a portion of Jesus’ teaching each time communion is taken. Take a section of the Sermon on the Mount in Matthew 5-7 and read it out loud. Or take a section of Jesus’ teaching on the topic being discussed or taught that day. This way participants can specifically consider the commands in the covenant to which they are committing— to which they are declaring in action, “all the words which you have spoken we will do” (210).

This also should make us consider the Commission the Lord gave us, especially the “teaching them to observe all that I commanded you.” We are making disciples who are agreeing to enter into the new covenant. We are inviting them to partake and commune with the Lord of the new covenant. Thus, we must ask ourselves: if we are making disciples of the new covenant, then ought it be best to know and do all that he commanded us to do?

Thank God for the mercy of this Lord, and the forgiveness he has offered, and the prayer that he has taught us to pray. Nevertheless, when we approach his Table, let us remember and do all that he has taught us, and enabled us to do through the power of his Spirit.

Note from the Editor: This film is rated “R” and therefore is not advised for all audiences. You are encouraged to use your own discernment in your viewing choices.

“Calvary” is not for the faint of heart. This movie is audaciously candid and ruthlessly palpable. Replete with memorable dialogues and unforgettable characters, its core message is both timeless and timely. There are so many juxtapositions between vices and virtues that every interaction between the good priest and his various dialogue partners deserves its own separate blog post. It comes as no surprise, then, that some have hailed it to be one of Ireland’s greatest films. Yet, in the end, this movie etches an indelible impression on many levels, drawing one’s thoughts back to the plot, its purpose, characters, and its theological relevance for today.

The premise of the movie is that a parishioner threatens to kill Father James Lavelle. This occurs during a confessional, and of course, without knowing when this may take place, the remainder of the movie is devoted to characters developing and the audience guessing who this sinister menace is.

There are many different elements one could discuss, but I’d like to focus on the good priest’s attire. Throughout the entire movie, save a scene or two, he is wearing a black soutane. Its symbolism drew the attention of various interlocutors, yet it seemed to hold great symbolic weight. As Brendan Gleeson (Father James Lavelle) said in an interview shortly after the airing of the film:

[In] “Calvary”…I…had to absorb the pain and disillusionment of everybody else, and their cynicism and their bitterness, and it was relentless. I remember putting on the vestments for Mass, and feeling, “Okay, this is like a suit of armor.” John said it was like a samurai preparing for battle, and I felt, “Okay, I’m the protector of whatever I believe to be good, essentially.” There was an essential quality to it, a kind of metaphysical examination, or an exploration of that. And it did feel as if I was under assault for the entirety of the shoot. I was shattered at the end of it.

In some ways “Calvary” functions like a modern day parable: teasing us into thinking long and hard about its message, meaning, and implications for our world in the 21st century. I propose that the parable (movie) answers the question, “What does it look like to live as a royal priest prepared for battle in a Post-Christendom context?” Though I’m not suggesting this was director John Michael McDonagh’s intent, I think a parabolic and prophetic inference may be drawn from this film through theological reflection.

Without divulging too much information and spoiling it for those of you who haven’t seen it (that’s, in part, how parables function!), we will briefly plunge into Ephesians 6:10-18 and its theological relevance to “Calvary” and our contemporary world.

Finally, be strong in the Lord and in the strength of his power. Put on the whole armor of God, so that you may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil. For our struggle is not against enemies of blood and flesh, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers of this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places.Therefore take up the whole armor of God, so that you may be able to withstand on that evil day, and having done everything, to stand firm. Stand therefore, and fasten the belt of truth around your waist, and put on the breastplate of righteousness. As shoes for your feet put on whatever will make you ready to proclaim the gospel of peace. With all of these,take the shield of faith, with which you will be able to quench all the flaming arrows of the evil one. Take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.

Suiting Up for Battle

What does putting on the full armor of God (Ephesians 6, 1 Thessalonians 5) look like in a post-Christendom context? What’s our black soutane? What does putting on the new self in Christ look like (see Colossians 3)?

Truth

The good priest stood firm with boldness, proclaiming truth to the cynical and even sinister parishioners. In most situations, truth was quintessentially involved (nihilism is a key theme), yet it is more keenly noticeable with his conversations with the suicidal daughter, the manic psychopath, and the author nearing death. Telling the truth in a 21st century post-Christendom context will be difficult and will be met by challenges; nevertheless, the Truth will set people free.

Righteousness

On multiple occasions Lavelle is identified as “good.” His righteousness is actually the reason his nemesis wants to kill him. Remember, “blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied” (Matthew 5:6) and “blessed are those who have been persecuted for the sake of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven” (Matthew 5:10).

Gospel of Peace

After the Beatitudes, Jesus speaks of the disciples’ roles in terms of mission (Matthew 5:13-16), involving both being (salt and light) and doing (good works). Lavelle embodied this in both his character and his acts. Scene after scene, it was as if the good news was going toe to toe with the bad news. The good priest might demonstrate how evangelism and discipleship are to be done in a post-Christendom context: in homes, bars, hospitals, and confessionals.

Faith

There is a whole dialogue between two widows (one recent and the other a few years) on the issue of faith, especially in regard to crisis. Lavelle captures what faith has become for many today: “For most people it’s the fear of death, nothing more than that. And if that’s all it is, then it’s very easy to lose.”

Salvation and the Holy Spirit

The helmet of salvation is a defensive armor, protecting the head from onslaughts. The sword of the Spirit (the Word of God) is an offensive weapon. Part of our salvation involves being freed from sin, and the topics of sin and repentance come up quite a few times in this movie.

Not just a few times, Lavelle asks if his parishioners are seeking pardon. If they weren’t, he usually didn’t stick around too long, being annoyed with their unwillingness to repent. I’m reminded of John 20:21-23: “So Jesus said to them again, ‘Peace be with you; as the Father has sent Me, I also send you.’ And when He had said this, He breathed on them and said to them, ‘Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive the sins of any, their sins have been forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they have been retained.'”

Prayer

Lavelle had to soak himself in prayer in order to confront what he had to face daily. What does prayer look like in a post-Christendom context? How do we pray for our enemies? How do we prepare ourselves for battle?

As we reflect, meditate, and prepare ourselves during this time of Lent, maybe the example of Lavelle is worth imitating. Now, he wasn’t a perfect exemplar, nor are any of us, save Jesus of Nazareth. Yet he picked up his cross and followed Jesus en route to “Calvary.” The cross prepares us ultimately for the glorious resurrection, but let us not forget what that path entails. As Bill Mallonee put in “Welcome to Struggleville”:

i’ve been trying to negotiate peace

with my own existence

she got a stockpile full of weaponry

she breaking every cease-fire agreement

oh the whole thing is full of decay

as sure as i’m made of dust

and into rust i know

the beast is falling

they are building a new gallows

for when You show up on the street

polishing the electric chair

they’re gonna give You a front row seat

heard a sneer outside the garden

salutation so well heeled

“final stop no points beyond struggleville

welcome all you suckers to struggleville”

10…9…8…7…6…5…4…3…2…1…

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

“A little premature, man…”

When the holiday season rolls around, emphasis is placed on the Big Three: Advent, Christmas, and New Year’s Day. What would happen if we started celebrating the Big Two—Advent and Christmas—instead of the Big Three?

Christians may forget that Advent marks the beginning of the Christian calender year. It entails celebrating two events simultaneously: Jesus’ first coming and his second coming. The lectionary texts during Advent orient themselves more towards the latter, and it might be worthwhile to suggest that we do likewise. It’s high time that we get back to celebrating the Christian New Year with as much anticipation as watching the ball drop at Times Square. Maybe we should realign ourselves with the liturgical seasons of Advent, Christmas, Epiphany, Lent, Holy Week, Easter, Pentecost, and the season after Pentecost. In doing so we may find ourselves getting caught up in the story of Jesus and his people.

Most of us have tried New Year’s resolutions but have come away unsuccessfully. What if our resolutions this year were eschatologically focused instead of self-focused? How can we reorient ourselves towards the hope that Christ will come again? Here are a few suggestions inspired by John Wesley’s sermon “The Means of Grace”:

1) Prayer

Isn’t it interesting that Wesley started with prayer? Many Wesleyan Christians have been exposed to and taught to pray the Lord’s Prayer every Sunday. The early church, and those who prayed the daily hours, prayed the Lord’s Prayer three times a day. The petition “thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven” teaches us to look forward to when God’s kingdom will be fully consummated on earth as in heaven. This is thoroughly soaked in future hope, which, as Paul points out, is inextricably connected to Jesus’ second coming (see 1 Thessalonians 4).

This is anticipatory, too. A helpful modification to praying the Lord’s Prayer in this new year could involve substituting “earth” with whatever location or sphere of influence you are in (like city, town, church, home). Then ask yourself, “what would it look like if God were in control here?” Pray together with brothers and sisters in Christ and seek guidance from the Holy Spirit on how you can live in the present in anticipation of God’s kingdom coming on earth as in heaven.

2) Scripture

In his sermon “The Means of Grace,” John Wesley focuses on searching the Scriptures, which includes reading, hearing, and meditation. It seems that over the past several years, there has been an increased interest in how we read the Bible. The importance of how we read cannot be overstated; however, maybe of more importance is that we are  reading the Bible. Following a reading plan can be helpful. Reading three or four chapters a day isn’t hard. This New Year could be spent on reading the Bible from the front cover to the back; next year, read from the back cover to front. Soak yourself in the story of God and his people. Meditate on it, and follow how the narrative finds its culmination in Jesus of Nazareth, whose return we anticipate throughout the Advent season.

If your Church follows the lectionary, take advantage of it! If a faithful, healthy member is around for three  years, then they should hear the vast majority of Scripture, being exposed to the narrative, motifs, and themes.

3) The Lord’s Supper

Wesley urged the early Methodists to partake of the Lord’s Supper as often as possible, even going so far as encouraging constant communion. When we take the Lord’s Supper, we proclaim his death until he comes again. We look forward to when we shall gather around the table for the Messianic feast.

Each of these “means of grace” helps to place us in avenues whereby we might receive God’s grace in the present in preparation for the life that awaits us in the (re)new(ed) world. These practices anticipate when the Lord shall come again and put the world to rights.

Do you ever find yourself struggling with bridging the horizons from ancient to modern?

Recently, I was allotted the task to preach the Parable of the Two Sons (Matthew 21:28-32). Realizing that this passage is difficult to understand apart from its context, I decided to expand the sermon to Matthew 21:23-32.

As I was drawing things together and preparing for the “application” section of the sermon, I became cognizant of the fact that sometimes we try to squeeze (read force) “timeless truths” out of Jesus’ message, when the fact of the matter is that Jesus’ message was temporal—directed first and foremost to his contemporaries. Sure, we could extrapolate that the recipients of this parable bore the brunt of the storm, because they talked the talk, but didn’t walk the walk (i.e., they were guilty of lip service). Thus, we could very well deduce that Christians should do the will of God, and dive into what that entails (see Matthew 7:21–27; 12:46-50; 25:31–46; 26:36-42). Or, we could discuss the topic of authority. What kind of authority does Jesus have (see Matthew 7:29; 8:9; 9:6-8; 10:1; 28:18), and where does his authority originate (God)?

But what actually set off this parabolic trifecta (as you can read further on in Matthew 21)? Jesus’ entrance into Jerusalem and subsequent actions in Jerusalem were highly charged symbolic actions, which basically announced, “there’s a new sheriff in town.” This set off a chain reaction all the way up to the top of the pecking order. So, once again, his actions were aimed at his contemporaries. But maybe Jesus’ pattern of action (both doing and saying) cues us on how to bridge the ancient-modern gap.

I was challenged by N.T. Wright when I read this comment in his little For Everyone series:

What should Jesus’ followers be doing today that would challenge the powers of the present world with the news that he is indeed its rightful Lord? What should we be doing that would make people ask, ‘By what right are you doing that?’, to which the proper answer would be to tell, not riddles about John the Baptist, but stories about Jesus himself?

Jesus often did things that drew – or repelled – people towards or away from himself. Once he grabbed their attention, often accompanied by questions or challenges, Jesus would frequently respond with parables. That Jesus spoke in parables is highly significant. As a friend recently pointed out to me, Jesus didn’t speak theological jargon; one of his primary forms of communication was…parables. He acted in highly symbolic fashion, eliciting questions, to which he told strange, cryptic stories about how God’s dominion was making its impact on earth. Jesus’ audience sometimes left confused, or, as in this parable – they knew exactly what he meant. No matter the result, he invited them to enter into a story, wrestle with its interpretation, and consider its implications.

What if this is how we lived? What if we lived in such a way that people asked us questions? Not “why are these Christians different?” – that should be a given – but not an entitlement to baptize social awkwardness) – but rather “why do you do these things? By what authority are you acting that way?” To which we are empowered to respond with stories that declare that Jesus is Lord.

An aside: I do not believe that this means going out seeking to cause trouble. Jesus’ actions were directly related to his vocation. To help us think through this, Wright, in his The Challenge of Jesus, suggests we ask ourselves how our profession is slanted. “Is it slanted toward the will to power or the will to love?” Or, in relation to the vocation of being an image-bearer of God, “is it developing in the service of true relationships, true stewardship and even true worship, or is it feeding and encouraging a society in which everybody creates their own private, narcissistic, enclosed world?” He thus concludes,

Your task is to find the symbolic ways of doing things differently, planting flags in hostile soil, setting up signposts that say there is a different way to be human. And when people are puzzled at what you are doing, find ways—fresh ways—of telling the story of the return of the human race from its exile, and use those stories as your explanation.

This is the parable-life.

Wright’s proposal, as thought-provoking as it is, raises the question of why Jesus told parables. Were they designed to reveal or conceal? Though answering this question goes beyond the confines of this post, I think Wright’s challenge is worth considering.

Just ponder with me for a second. Don’t we live steeped in stories? Doesn’t everyday consist of myriads of stories: songs, dances, movies, shows, the news? Do you ever ask your spouse or roommate, “how was your day?” Do they respond with a story? We are storied beings, who find stories to be like centripetal forces that draw us in.

Maybe we should think outside the box – being creative like Jesus. Tell stories about how God’s kingdom has made itself manifest, how Jesus defeated sin and death, and how the restoration of the cosmos and humanity is the hope that is found in Jesus’ resurrection. Tell others what it means to follow the true Human, the second Adam.

If you live the parable-life, I suggest that, like Jesus, you will become a centripetal or centrifugal force. Get ready: you’ll be a force to reckon with, and it could cost you your life – metaphorically or physically. Expect opposition from the enemy (see Ephesians 6), but remember the Holy Spirit is there for guidance, protection, and victory.