On the Tuesday of Holy Week

[And now, the rest of the story...]

The next day, Jesus reminded the Jews of the covenant in Deuteronomy to love God with all their heart (Mt 23:37; Dt. 6:5), but they could not see that the one they were called to love was right before their eyes. Jesus looked around at those in the temple and lamented, “O Jerusalem, Jerusalem…how often I have longed to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, but you were not willing. Look, your house is left to you desolate. For I tell you, you will not see me again until you say, ‘Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.’” (Matt 23:31-39). The lights were on; no one was home. The Kingdom was still in chaos.

That night in Bethany, Jesus was anointed by a woman – finally the worship he was supposed to receive. When the disciples complained that the perfume should have been sold and the money given to the poor, Jesus responded, “The poor you will always have with you” (Matt. 26:10), again a direct blast to them for not keeping the covenant of Deuteronomy which states, “However, there should be no poor among you, for in the land the Lord your God is giving you to possess as your inheritance he will richly bless you” (Deut 15:4).

Two evenings later, Jesus celebrated the Passover. Then, he went to the Garden of Gethsemane, where the “Suffering Servant” cried out to the Father, “Be merciful to me, O Lord, for I am in distress… My times are in your hands… Let your face shine on your servant; save me in your unfailing love” (Psalm 31). There was the Betrayal. The Trial. The Cross. The Darkest Night of the Soul. The Tomb. But as verse 16 is not the last verse of Psalm 31, Friday night is not the end of this story either. Don’t forget, Sunday’s coming.

And even today, Jesus is still calling us back to his covenant. Through the new covenant of bread and wine, body and blood, Jesus is calling us to worship, to love the outcast, to care for the poor, and to bring about his kingdom of peace. So as you reflect on Christ’s passion this week, share in Jesus’ song of lament and pray for the day all the nations proclaim, ‘Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.’

On the Monday of Holy Week

The day after Palm Sunday, Jesus walked the same path down the same mountain through the city as he did the day before, but there was no fanfare on the road or at the temple. All that greeted him was a fig tree with no fruit – a symbol of the spiritual climate of the people who did not turn their hearts toward them. Jesus turned to the plant and exclaimed: “May no one ever eat fruit from you again.” He struck the land with a curse.

In the city, he cleared the temple of the money changers who had made it a den of robbers rather than a “house of prayer for all nations” (Mark 11:17). This was a direct reference to Isaiah 56:6-7, which states, “And foreigners who bind themselves to the LORD to serve him, to love the name of the LORD, and to worship him…and who hold fast to my covenant- these I will bring to my holy mountain and give them joy in my house of prayer. Their burnt offerings and sacrifices will be accepted on my altar; for my house will be called a house of prayer for all nations.”

This was a direct reference to the covenant! You see, the Temple in Jerusalem at that time was surrounded by four outer courts which were considered more sacred as you came closer to the temple, entering from the east to west. Depending who you were, you could only get so close to the Temple, which is clearly indicated by the names of the courts. The first court one would come upon was The Court of the Gentiles, then The Court of the Women, the Court of Israel, and the Court of the Priests. These merchants who were exchanging money were set up directly in the Court of the Gentiles making the only area for Gentiles to worship completely inaccessible. They couldn’t come close to the temple, let alone offer sacrifices. God’s covenant with Abraham in Genesis 12 was that he would be blessed in order that he might be a blessing to all nations. Israel had forgotten the covenant.

When the chief priests and the teachers of the law heard what Jesus had done, they began looking for a way to kill him (Mark 11:18). Jesus had expected welcome and worship; he received only murder plots. Jesus prayed in his heart, “Because of all my enemies, I am the utter contempt of my neighbors… I hear the slander of many; there is terror on every side; they conspire against me and plot to take my life” (Psalm 31:11, 13).

Palm Sunday

[This is a continuation of my previous post (or part II of the message I gave tonight at my church).]

After Ezekiel came Malachi, through whom God promised to the Israelites, “See, I will send my messenger, who will prepare the way before me. Then suddenly the Lord you are seeking will come to his temple; the messenger of the covenant, whom you desire, will come” (Malachi 3:1). The one who established his covenant with Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, and David would return… The Old Testament ends with a summation of this covenant as well as an eerie foretelling”

“Remember the law of my servant Moses, the decrees and laws I gave him at Horeb for all Israel. See, I will send you the prophet Elijah before that great and dreadful day of the LORD comes. He will turn the hearts of the fathers to their children, and the hearts of the children to their fathers; or else I will come and strike the land with a curse.” A curse: a reminder of the blessings and curses outlined in Deuteronomy.

But after Malachi… there was only silence. The silence of God for over 400 years. These were tumultuous years for Israel. The governing of Israel was passed along from superpower to superpower. Persia. Greece. Antiochus Epiphanes who desecrated the temple. Rome. Amidst these political occupations, forgotten as though dead, Israel cried out for deliverance, for a Messiah who would rescue them. “Let your face shine on your servants; save us in your unfailing love.”

Then, suddenly, he came. A man out in the desert wearing camel’s hair shouted to anyone and everyone that would listen: “Prepare the way of the Lord!” A few years later, six days before the Passover, he spent the night in Bethany at the home of his good friends Mary, Martha, and Lazarus.
The next day, Jesus “came to Bethphage on the Mount of Olives” the mountain standing east of the city of Jerusalem. There, the Son of David sent two of his closest friends on a mission who brought back for him a donkey for him to ride and show that he was “the king who comes in the name of the Lord!” (Luke 28:38). So Jesus came from the way of the east, rode down the mountain, and headed towards Jerusalem by way of the gate facing toward the east. And as the people saw their new king, they rejoiced and sang and shook the earth with their noise. And as he rode, the crowd proclaimed, “glory in the highest” (Luke 19:38), but the religious leaders were in disbelief and rebuked the crowd.

But as the one who came to restore peace to Israel “approached Jerusalem and saw the city, he wept over it and said, ‘If you, even you, had only known on this day what would bring you peace – but now it is hidden from your eyes.” (Luke 19:41-42). And if you could listen to his heart, you could’ve heard him pray, “My eyes grow weak with sorrow, my soul and my body with grief. My life is consumed by anguish and my years by groaning; my strength fails because of my affliction, and my bones grow weak.”

Then Jesus “entered Jerusalem and went to the temple. He looked around at everything, but since it was already late,” no one was there (Mark 11:11). No one was ready for the glory to return. No one was ready for a new spirit. No one was interested in renewing the covenant. They only wanted a king who could overthrow the powers of Rome. Ezekiel’s vision was left unfulfilled. Needless to say, Jesus’ “Triumphal Entry” was not so triumphant.

In Preparation for Holy Week

Today and over the course of the next several days, I will provide excerpts from my Palm Sunday sermon I am giving at my church, The Open Door, tomorrow night. Here's the first entry. It is a narrative that combines elements of the history of Israel and the story of Jesus with Psalm 31:9-16, the Psalm given in the Presbyterian Lectionary for March 16th, 2008.

* * *

We begin with David – and what better place to start when considering the Psalms? When King David, one of the possible authors of this Psalm, was approaching death, a squabble arose as to which of his sons would be appointed king in his stead. The Kingdom was thrown into chaos. Now in that day, when a king wanted to make known who had his special hand of blessing, one way he could do it was by placing that individual on the king’s foal. So, in order to show that Solomon was the heir to the throne, and to restore peace back to Israel, David sent three of his closest friends with an order that Solomon be placed on the king’s donkey and that he ride down through the city. And when this happened, and the people saw their new king, they rejoiced and sang and shook the earth with their noise (1 Kings 1:32-40).

When Solomon became king, he built a temple to be a house for Yahweh, the God of Israel. And when the priests brought the ark of the covenant to the temple, “the glory of the LORD filled the house” so much that the priests had to back away from the building (1 Kings 8:11). God had entered the building, giving evidence to his covenant relationship with Israel.

But Solomon, and the kings who came after him, led Israel into evil and away from their covenant with God. The Lord sent prophets to the people to warn them and woo them and turn them back from their wicked ways. But their hearts became hardened, the temple became a place of empty ritual, and rarely did anyone recognize their plight and cry out to God: “Be merciful to me, O LORD, for I am in distress; my eyes grow weak with sorrow, my soul and my body with grief.”(Ps. 31:9).

God sent Jeremiah, the other possible author of this song, but the people would not listen to his words either. And on the day the army of Babylon destroyed the city of Jerusalem and ransacked the temple of Yahweh, Jeremiah lamented, saying: “The Lord has rejected his altar and abandoned his sanctuary… We have suffered terror and pitfalls, ruin and destruction. Streams of tears flow from my eyes…” (Lam. 2:7, 3:46ff). And he very easily could have prayed, “My life is consumed by anguish and my years by groaning; my strength fails because of my affliction, and my bones grow weak” (Psalm 31:10). The covenant had been broken.

That day, a prophecy of Jeremiah’s came true – that Jerusalem would “fall and be shattered like fine pottery” (Jer. 15:34). In 586 B.C. the remnant of Israel was taken into captivity by Babylon, the entire royal family was put to death, and soldiers shackled Judah’s king and gouged out his eyes. And all Judah cried out, “Because of all my enemies, I am the utter contempt of my neighbors; I am a dread to my friends— those who see me on the street flee from me. I am forgotten by them as though I were dead; I have become like broken pottery” (Ps. 31:11-12).

There in exile, God appointed a new prophet, Ezekiel, to tell the people to repent and look to the Lord to restore them and bring them back to their land. God gave Ezekiel visions, and in one of them, Ezekiel relived the day of Jerusalem’s fall. And as the gates of the city were stormed, the “glory of the Lord departed from over the threshold of the temple” (Ezekiel 10:18). Then, “the glory of the Lord went up from the midst of the city and stood over the mountain which is east of the city” (Ezek. 11:23). God had left the building. But before the Lord departed entirely from Jerusalem, he promised that he would keep his covenant with Israel. One day, he would bring them back to their land and give them one heart and a new spirit (Ezek. 11:17-20). And God would renew his covenant with them and return to the temple: “The glory of the God of Israel was coming from the way of the east… And the glory of the LORD came into the house by the way of the gate facing toward the east” (Ezek. 43:1-4).

In 536 B.C., a group of Israelites were released from captivity and allowed to return to Jerusalem to rebuild the temple. The promise would be fulfilled! With no wall, no formidable army, and no real city to speak of, the Israelites had to build the temple in utter fear of the unfriendly neighboring people groups surrounding them (Ezra 3:3). All they could do was trust the Lord who had been faithful enough to bring them this far. They prayed: “I hear the slander of many; there is terror on every side; they conspire against me and plot to take my life. But I trust in you, O LORD; I say, "You are my God." My times are in your hands; deliver me from my enemies and from those who pursue me” (Ps. 31:13-15).

This new temple was nowhere near the prestige and glamour of Solomon’s. In fact, there were some old men in this small band that remembered the old temple, who remembered the glory days. At the temple dedication, while many shook the earth with their shouts of joy, the men “wept with a loud voice when the foundation of [the] house was laid before their eyes… so that the people could not distinguish the sound of the shout of joy from the sound of the weeping of the people” (Ezra 3:12-13). The lights were on; nobody was home. There was no glory in this temple. Would Ezekiel’s final vision remain unfulfilled?

To Be Continued...

Road Trip

Our trip to Montreal started with a lot of fun. My philosophy paper presentation went very well, I got to meet some interesting graduate students from Canada and the U.S., and we found a great Irish Pub to have dinner. It was great to just get out of our usual routine and be someplace else. We were, however, rather unimpressed with the roads and sidewalks. Perhaps, the people of Quebec just get sick of all the snow they get each year that they just give up on shoveling, as there was slick spots and icy sidewalks everywhere.

We did get to do a little sightseeing while we were there. The Biodome and Olympic Park area were covered in snow, so they weren't too enjoyable to see from the outside (although the buildings are pretty remarkable architecturally), we enjoyed the nature and animals housed inside as we stepped into a tropical rainforest.

Then came the snow - a whole foot of snow. Our Saturday flight was cancelled, so we had to stay in the hotel another night. On Sunday, we took a taxi to the airport and stood in line for three hours only to find that our second flight was canceled, and the only flight they could offer us wouldn't go out until Tuesday. We decided to look for other options. After speaking with virtually every car rental place at the airport, we managed to find one vehicle through AVIS that they would allow us to rent (apparently, a car must have U.S. plates to go back to the States). We had found our ticket home.... But the adventure had just begun.

We didn't have a map, and the directions we received on Amber's Blackberry were extremely confusing. So, we had to start out with a small map of Quebec provided by the nice guy at the AVIS counter and his directions. Needless to say, he didn't know his way around the States and ended up adding another hour to our trip; however, it was quite possible the shortest route to the States for which I was thankful. The road conditions in Canada were horrendous. On several occasions, we encountered extremely icy areas on the highway, one which nearly landed me in a ditch as I sailed across two lanes diagonally until I regained control. Thankfully, we were given an SUV (and I have a wife who was persistent in calmly telling me to slow down!).

In all honesty, we seriously drove across the entire state of New York. From the Canada line, we went down I-87 for a couple miles and stopped at a McDonalds so I could detox from the tense drive. We headed West on US-11, going through dozens of small country towns with great views of hills and fields. At Waterton, we got on I-81 South, where we encountered blizzard-like conditions for a couple dozen miles or so. Then came Syracuse, where we hopped on I-90. Past Rochester and Buffalo, we entered Pennsylvania north of Erie where we finally made our way down on I-79 down to Pittsburgh. After two stops for gas (and coffee), and over 600 miles later, we finished our twelve hour trip around 3:15AM this Morning to the song, "Just another manic Monday"... so true...

Snowed in at Montreal

So, this weekend, Amber and I went to Montreal, Quebec for my first philosophy conference paper presentation at McGill University (it was only a graduate conference and I only presented in front of a handful of people so don't get too excited for me). Well, the Friday conference went very well, but today Montreal is getting 39 centimeters (that about 15 inches of for you non-metric folks) of snow. Needless to say, we're going to be here for a while. Our flight got canceled, and we got on another one for tomorrow that will involve two layovers... meaning its going to take us nine hours to get back to Pittsburgh on top of the extra cost of another night in the hotel. Thankfully, at least part of our trip will get reimbursed by Duquesne. I think Amber's decided that she's not going to be coming on anymore of my conference trips... and we hope to not come to Montreal in the winter anymore either. [Amber thinks getting snowed in is fun]. We're having fun becoming curling fans.

The conference went pretty well. I sat in on a session in the morning that included presentations on Levinas (the reason why I went to the session - it was deplorable how badly he Christianized and ignored the entire setting of his project... ugh... sadness), Ricoeur (the presenter's French accent made it impossible to understand her), Jainism, and Kierkegaard (which was very interesting). My session included a presentation on Lonergan, my own, and one on the influence of Gnostic Christianity on Greek philosophy (which was quite intriguing). I received some questions but not any profound feedback that would help me in tweaking my paper. Nonetheless, the whole process of editing and presenting was really helpful, and I look forward to making adjustments for my next paper presentation at the University of Kentucky at the end of March.

Last night, after the conference, we walked around the area near our hotel. It was quite cold, so we didn't make it very far, but we did find an Irish Pub with some good beer and eats. Hopefully, I'll be able to upload some pictures when I make it home, as I forgot my adapter... Aside from that, the day was pretty uneventful. Montreal is a unique city. One minute, you feel like you're in Paris, with people asking you questions in French. The next minute, you feel like you're in the States, as the majority of their news is still focused on what happens in America, particularly the presidential primaries.

Today, before the snowstorm, we were able to take the metro out to Montreal's Biodome, an extraordinary work of architecture, which houses an educational ecosystem - where lots of families were enjoying the macaws in the rain forest, otters in the streams, and penguins in the tundra habitats. It was actually quite small compared to similar environmental museums in the states, but we had a good time nonetheless. The Biodome is located right next to Montreal's Olympic Park where the 1976 Summer Olympics were held. We had the chance to go inside the stadium where the swimming pool is housed, but that's about it.

A Eulogy for Grandma Betty

On Thursday, February 28th, Betty Roach (Amber’s Grandma) passed away into eternity. Amber and I made the nine hour drive to Western Kentucky on Friday morning for the viewing and funeral and returned to Pittsburgh around 8:00PM this evening.

Upon our arrival, I received word from Amber’s mom that she had mentioned the possibility to Grandpa Hal that I could say a word at the funeral if he so desired. Call it a sixth sense, call it prophecy, or call it vain fantasy, but as soon as I heard the news of Grandma’s death I began ruminating on a passage I have meditated on numerous times before and the possibility of using it for a funeral message.

Well Grandpa Hal did ask me to say a word at the funeral – less than five minutes before it began. Hal introduced me to the two lay pastors of Grandma Betty’s small country Christian church (and when I say small, I mean really small) who were scheduled to provide the eulogy and message during the service. The first one would speak, a special song would be sung, the other pastor would speak, and then I would be up. I probably had around ten minutes before they would call my name.

So, I bee-lined it back to my seat, pulled out the pew Bible, went straight to the passage I had been contemplating using over the past couple days, pulled out a pen, and wrote down some thoughts on the back of a business card (in about size 8 font!). The following is at least a somewhat accurate representation of what I said yesterday morning:

The book of Ecclesiastes is about a man in search of the meaning of existence and the meaning of life – an appropriate topic for a day like today. It is from this book I would like to read this morning.

“A good name is better than precious ointment, and the day of death than the day of birth. It is better to go to the house of mourning than to go to the house of feasting, for this is the end of all mankind, and the living will lay it to heart. Sorrow is better than laughter, for by sadness of face the heart is made glad. The heart of the wise is in the house of mourning, but the heart of fools is in the house of mirth” (Ecc. 7:1-4).

What is the author trying to tell us here in these few sentences? How can it be that it’s better to mourn than to celebrate? Let us begin with what he is not trying to tell us. The author of Ecclesiastes is not telling us to go through life taking ourselves too seriously, to not enjoy life. Nor is he telling us that feasting is a bad thing or that we should avoid taking time to celebrate. On the contrary, the entire book of Ecclesiastes is a proclamation of the importance of enjoying the food, drink, and life we have before us as gifts from God. As 2:24 states, “There is nothing better for a person than that he should eat and drink and find enjoyment in his toil. This also, I saw, is from the hand of God.”

If we want to understand this passage, I think the central meaning lies in the first three words: a good name. You see, there’s a kind of feasting, a kind of foolish laughter, a kind of laughter that devalues life – one in which we’re all familiar with – in which we participate in order to detach ourselves from life and try to forget reality. In that regard, coming together for a funeral like we have today is a kind of shock therapy that brings us back to our senses and awakens us to what really matters in life.

A good name is something that matters. As we sit here this morning, we must ask ourselves, “What do I want to be remembered for?” A good name is what we’re known for – our character, our reputation. As those who have spoken already have mentioned, Grandma Betty had a good name. She was a servant, a hard worker, a wife, a mother, and a grandmother. She loved life and had an inner peace about her.

The house of mourning brings us face to face with reality, face to face with our humanness and mortality. It reminds us to make the most of the few short years we have in this life. It reminds us to appreciate the family and friends we have around us. It reminds us of the beauty and sanctity of human life. It reminds us of the importance of faith and peace and cultivating an inner life with God. It reminds us that we have a soul.

So may this day be a day in which you reflect upon what kind of name you have. May it be a day in which you reflect on the important things in life, of the many things about Betty and memories you have about her that you want to remember her for. And may it be a day in which you consider what ways her life has influenced yours and how you’ve become a better person for it. Thank you.