Wrestling With the Bible: Belief Is Seriously Overrated

Pentwater, Michigan, c 2007 Barbara Falconer Newhall

By Barbara Falconer Newhall

As I made plans for my mother’s memorial mass at the tiny St. Vincent Catholic Church in Pentwater, Michigan, last summer, I asked my brothers and my mother’s grandchildren if they’d like to participate in the service.

There were the Prayers of the Faithful to be read, as well as two passages from scripture, and the bread and the wine to be carried to the altar.

My nephew, an evangelical, jumped at the chance to read from Romans. My son and daughter, who grew up in St. John’s Episcopal Church in Oakland and are now an agnostic (an apatheist to be more precise) and a beginner Buddhist respectively, agreed to take on Isaiah and the Prayers of the Faithful.

But my brothers and some of the grandchildren were uneasy at the thought of standing up in front of a bunch of people to read from a document they didn’t believe in. One granddaughter thought she might be able to read a passage, but only if it didn’t mention God.

Exasperated, I sent out an email. “It’s not necessary to ‘believe’ the scriptures!” I declared. “‘Belief’ is seriously overrated!”

Between my nephew and my own children, I had enough readers to fill all the reading slots, so I offered the two “non-believer” granddaughters the wordless roles of carrying the bread and wine to the altar. They accepted happily.

Peter reading from Isaiah at his grandmother's memorial service. c 2011 Barbara Falconer Newhall

What I didn’t tell my nieces was that, to my mind, while the offering of the bread and wine doesn’t involve words of assent to – belief in – any kind of doctrine, the act does reflect another kind of belief, the faith and trust kind. It is the bringing of a hopeful heart to that which is. (Or as Christians would put it, to God.)

Next Sunday’s gospel is the much-quoted John 3:14-21. The first part goes down easily enough for most people. “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.”

That verse has a nice universalist ring to it: God loves the world. But for some, the verses that follow blast a judgmental, exclusionary message:

“ . . . those who do not believe are condemned already, because they have not believed in the name of the only Son of God. And this is the judgment, that the light has come into the world, and people loved darkness rather than light because their deeds were evil. For all who do evil hate the light and do not come to the light, so that their deeds may not be exposed.”

I want to argue that my “unbelieving” nieces are not unbelieving at all. They are full of trust and love and light. They showed up for their grandmother. They carried the bread and the wine to the altar of a tradition they neither understood nor subscribed to. As I see it, they did all this with a great deal of hope. Their deeds were “done in God” – whether they thought of it that way or not.

To qualify for God’s love, to enjoy a full and loving life, do we have to sign on the dotted line that we “believe in the name of the only Son of God”?  I don’t think so.

What John 3:14-21 is saying to me is that we must trust – believe – that we live in a loving universe. That, in turn, enables us to do our deeds in goodness.

Otherwise we are in a dark place indeed.

© 2012 Barbara Falconer Newhall

LECTIONARY, Fourth Sunday in Lent:

http://www.lectionarypage.net/YearB_RCL/Lent/BLent4_RCL.html

Numbers 21:4-9

Psalm 107:1-3, 17-22

Ephesians 2:1-10

John 3:14-21

My mother several months before she died. c 2010 Barbara Falconer Newhall

“Jesus said to Nicodemus, ‘Just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whoever believes in him may have eternal life.

“‘For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.

“‘Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him. Those who believe in him are not condemned; but those who do not believe are condemned already, because they have not believed in the name of the only Son of God. And this is the judgment, that the light has come into the world, and people loved darkness rather than light because their deeds were evil. For all who do evil hate the light and do not come to the light, so that their deeds may not be exposed. 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.’”   – John 3:14-21

 

Share
Posted in Wrestling with the Bible | Tagged , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

God Is Big: How Facebook Helped Jana Riess Grieve

A pinecone along Lake Michigan c 2007 Barbara Falconer Newhall

By Barbara Falconer Newhall

A very touching story on Patheos by author Jana Riess about how Facebook helped her grieve.

Apparently, FB has a policy of shutting down a FB account if it hears that the owner has died — much to the distress of friends and family members who have grieved together on the deceased person’s FB site.

Your thoughts? Have you had this experience?

 

Share
Posted in God Is Big | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Wrestling With the Bible: Is God Inspecting My Thoughts?

Ferns growing wild near Lake Michigan

By Barbara Falconer Newhall

By the looks of this week’s scripture, God has high hopes and standards for the human race.

There are the Ten Commandments, of course. Our lives – spiritual and earthbound – will go a lot better if we love God heartily, banish our idols, keep the Sabbath, honor our elders, and eschew murder, theft, adultery, lies and covetous scheming.

And there is Jesus – applying an angry whip of cords to all that distracting worldly commerce going on in in the temple at Jerusalem, which is supposed to be a sanctified, set-apart place where, like the Sabbath, God and humanity can take time out to encounter each other.

But there is yet another, subtler commandment tucked away in today’s scripture. I spotted it the closing verse of Psalm 19:

“Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in your sight, O LORD, my strength and my redeemer.”

Let the meditation of my heart – my thoughts and opinions! – be acceptable to the Lord?

Does this mean it matters what we think?

Aren’t our thoughts our own and perfectly harmless as long as they don’t involve plotting to steal somebody else’s sheep or oxen or place in line at the coffee shop?

Maybe we could think of our meditations this way: They are what we say to ourselves when we are alone. They reflect our deepest beliefs about the human condition in general and ourselves in particular. They are how we diminish or grow ourselves and others in our most private moments.

It’s Lent, and I wonder, what kind of thoughts might God wish for us during this season?

© Photo and text 2012 BF Newhall

LECTIONARY, Third Sunday in Lent, RCL-B:

http://www.lectionarypage.net/YearB_RCL/Lent/BLent3_RCL.html

Exodus 20:1-17

Psalm 19 1

Corinthians 1:18-25

John 2:13-22

“Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in your sight,   O LORD, my strength and my redeemer.” – Psalm 19:14

“The Passover of the Jews was near, and Jesus went up to Jerusalem. In the temple he found people selling cattle, sheep, and doves, and the money changers seated at their tables. Making a whip of cords, he drove all of them out of the temple, both the sheep and the cattle. He also poured out the coins of the money changers and overturned their tables. He told those who were selling the doves, ‘Take these things out of here! Stop making my Father’s house a marketplace!’”  — John 2:13-16

Share
Posted in Wrestling with the Bible | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Wrestling With the Bible: Where’s My Cross?

c 2011 BF Newhall

By Barbara Falconer Newhall

What does it mean to take up one’s cross and follow Jesus? What does it mean to imitate Abram who said yes when God Almighty asked him to leave home and family and “walk before me, and be blameless”?

Are we supposed to quit our jobs and join the Peace Corps? Take monastic vows? Give all our money to Save the Children? Turn our guest rooms into homeless shelters?

That’s the feeling I get from Jesus’ stern words to his disciples and the crowd, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.”

When I was in my twenties, I dropped out.

I quit a promising magazine job in New York and moved to San Francisco, where I acquired a pair of handmade leather sandals and let my hair grow down past my armpits.

I joined the Women’s Liberation Movement, marched against the Vietnam War, and lived frugally on a few hundred dollars a month, which I earned by freelancing to a local newspaper. I rejected mainstream American society – Rome – and all its perks. I took to the moral high ground.

But was that taking up my cross and following Jesus?

Or is following Jesus much harder than that? Is the way of the cross in the small, difficult, daily things? Is it apologizing when I’m shamefully in the wrong? Is it getting on a plane and flying to Phoenix to risk telling my cranky 97-year-old aunt that I love her? Is it something as simple as summoning the wherewithal to thank my husband for buying the frozen blueberries for my morning oatmeal?

How do we know the divine things when we see them?

c 2011 BF Newhall

LECTIONARY, Second Sunday in Lent:

Genesis 17:1-7, 15-16
Psalm 22:22-30
Romans 4:13-25
Mark 8:31-38

“When Abram was ninety-nine years old, the LORD appeared to Abram, and said to him, ‘I am God Almighty; walk before me, and be blameless. And I will make my covenant between me and you, and will make you exceedingly numerous.’”  — Genesis 17:1-7, 15-16

“He called the crowd with his disciples, and said to them, ‘If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it. For what will it profit them to gain the whole world and forfeit their life?’”   – Mark 8:36-37

 

Share
Posted in Wrestling with the Bible | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

GodsBigBlog: What Is It?

By Barbara Falconer Newhall

A reader asks, “What is GodsBigBlog?”

Good question.

GodsBigBlog is — the God Is Big Blog.

I’m a religion writer in the tradition of Huston Smith and the universalists. I’ve interviewed and observed hundreds of people with dozens of different, often conflicting, ideas, spiritual paths and experiences of Holy, and I have come to the conclusion that the Sacred, whatever It is, must be very large. If God is to encompass all those earnest people and all their – to me convincing – experiences of Holy, God must be very big, indeed.

Also, it seems to me that Whatever Is Going On Out/In Here is way beyond human understanding, which takes me back to — God Is Big.

When I launched my blog, someone else was using the URL God Is Big, so I had to come up with an alternative. I named this blog GodsBigBlog, which is URL-speak for God Is Big – or God’s Big.

There’s a pun there, and I like it. God’s Big Blog can also mean this is God’s Big Blog.

God’s blog, not mine. I just live here and go where it takes me.

So there you have it.

© 2011  Barbara Falconer Newhall

Share
Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

Pardon Our Dust — GodsBigBlog Has a New Home

By Barbara Falconer Newhall

Welcome to GodsBigBlog. It’s still under construction, so please be patient if things don’t look or work quite right.

Many of you have followed my GodsBigBlog posts over at BarbaraFalconerNewhall.com.

But now the time has come to give my thoughts on religion and spirituality a home of their own on a brand new blog known as – GodsBigBlog.

Here you’ll read about my own personal struggles with life as a human being in a world where God seems to be missing much of the time.

You’ll also find book reviews, pithy news items and interviews with every sort or believer and non-believer, from my atheist friends to the polygamist family I met at a Religion Newswriters conference a few weeks ago to the Orthodox Jewish women sitting happily at the back of the bus in New York,

Too, there will be my sometimes irreverent, often anguished, reflections on the Bible, which I also post every Monday morning over at the Church Divinity School of the Pacific Facebook page.

(CDSP is an Episcopal seminary in Berkeley, and the Bible readings will follow the Revised Common Lectionary texts scheduled for the upcoming Sunday.)

Enjoy!

© 2011 BF Newhall

 

 

Share
Posted in God Is Big, Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Wrestling with the Bible: Does (Can?) God Do Miracles?

By Barbara Falconer Newhall

Does (can?) God do miracles? I wonder. Mostly I kind of doubt it. I’ve never witnessed a miracle personally, though I’ve asked for enough of them, large and small, over the years.

My son at age 5. He survived to adulthood. Is that the miracle?

The Bible is full of miracle stories, of course. In the synagogue at Capernaum, just for starters, Jesus is confronted by a man possessed by a demon. With a few words, Jesus silences the voice for evil and the man is healed.

Right now I’m asking for a healing miracle for a six-year-old boy who is being tormented –like the man at the synagogue – by a terrible illness.

I don’t know whether God does miracles any more, if God ever did. But I’m praying anyway.

As I form the words, I imagine that I’m asking God to heal a small boy who is suffering. But maybe I’m praying for something else – something that God actually can and does provide.

What would that be?

© 2012 text and photo BF Newhall

 

LECTIONARY, Epiphany 4: 

http://www.lectionarypage.net/YearB_RCL/Epiphany/BEpi4_RCL.html

Deuteronomy 18:15-20
Psalm 111
1 Corinthians 8:1-13
Mark 1:21-28

“Jesus and his disciples went to Capernaum; and when the sabbath came, he entered the synagogue and taught. They were astounded at his teaching, for he taught them as one having authority, and not as the scribes. Just then there was in their synagogue a man with an unclean spirit, and he cried out, ‘What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth? Have you come to destroy us? I know who you are, the Holy One of God.’ But Jesus rebuked him, saying, ‘Be silent, and come out of him!’ And the unclean spirit, convulsing him and crying with a loud voice, came out of him. They were all amazed, and they kept on asking one another, ‘What is this? A new teaching– with authority! He commands even the unclean spirits, and they obey him.’ At once his fame began to spread throughout the surrounding region of Galilee.”  — Mark 1:21-28 NRSV

Share
Posted in Wrestling with the Bible | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Finding Holy: Why Meditate — When I Could Be Sweeping the Garage?

By Barbara Falconer Newhall

I’ve tried meditating only a few times – a very few times. I’m well read on the subject, however. Indeed, I’ve spent way more time reading about meditation than I’ve spent doing it.

Why would I want to just sit there observing my mind, I reason, when I could be outdoors pulling dead blossoms off the shamelessly prolific rhododendron in our front yard? Those blossoms snap off their stems with such a satisfying pop.

(I do nothing to make that plant bloom. Yet year after year it sucks up dirt and rainwater and blasts dozens of grandiose purple-blue blossoms into our tiny  front yard. Hardly anybody notices this plant or its outrageous flowers. It produces them anyway.)

So – why would I want to just sit there, meditating? I could be calling my son in Minneapolis, my fingers still sticky with rhododendron sap, to ask how his appendectomy scars are healing. I could be phoning my daughter – were there any cute guys at the wedding in Kansas City last weekend? I could be at the kitchen sink in my 91-year-old mother’s apartment, washing her dishes. I could be having fun.

Rhododendron blossom, almost ready for deadheading. c 2009 BF Newhall

People like Sylvia Boorstein make a great case for the practice of meditation. Her book, Don’t Just Do Something, Sit There, is one of my favorite ways to think about meditating without actually doing it.

Sylvia is very convincing, but the sitting vs. doing trade-off has never worked for me. Sit quietly for a half hour? I’d rather be sorting laundry or brooming cobwebs off the windows in the garage. I like the physical world, right down to clean socks and window sills speckled with dead fruit flies.

A life is to be lived. And for the time being I’ve got one. Why would I want to spend any of it sitting there watching my thoughts go by – when I could be out in the world, generating new ones?

Yet – right now I’m thinking maybe a little meditating could do me some good.

Last week, a friend gave me a copy of an essay that Thomas Merton wrote way back in 1968. It’s called “Creative Silence.” In it, Merton makes a distinction between negative silence and creative silence. In negative silence, we fret and stew and let our anxieties run off with our thoughts. In creative silence, we experience what Paul Tillich called “the courage to be.”

Creative silence requires a certain kind of faith, Merton says. (If you’re like me, you’re not keen on the word faith. It has a squishy, sentimental, boasty feel to it. So, bear with me here. Merton uses the word in a specific way.)

Faith, says Merton, requires us to cut through the smokescreen of our daily activities, our busyness, the charming or efficient or competent personas we present to the world and to ourselves. Our talky prayers can be a smokescreen. So can the ideas about God that our traditional religions have constructed for us over the centuries.

All those reassuring slogans and routines of religiosity, says Merton, “can become a substitute for the truth of the invisible God of faith, and though this comforting image may seem real to us, he is really a kind of idol.”

We fear genuine silence, Merton says. We are afraid of being alone in the nakedness of our true selves without our usual masks of competence or sociability. Why are we afraid? Because we’ve lost hope of ever reconciling with – of accepting – our true selves.

By faith I think Merton means the willingness to trust that, if we set aside the busyness of our days and the busyness of our thoughts and we go fully into silence, someone – our true selves – will be there to meet us. As will God.

I like Merton’s take on silence. But does that mean I’m about to take up meditating? Time spent in meditation might be like time spent with a Stairmaster or a hair dryer. I might like the results.

No, sitting meditation is not for me right now, but Merton’s silence is. And so, as I snap the spent rhododendron blossoms from their stems, and fold my husband’s T-shirts, and wait for the phone to pick up in Minneapolis, I’ll remember the silence. I’ll listen for that wordless self of mine.

© 2009 Barbara Falconer Newhall

Sylvia Boorstein. c Christine Alicino

Don’t Just Do Something, Sit There: A Mindfulness Retreat with Sylvia Boorstein, by Sylvia Boorstein, Harper Collins, 1996.

“Creative Silence,” by Thomas Merton, first published in April, 1968, in Bloomin’ Newman, by University of Louisville students. Reprinted in Thomas Merton: Essential Writings, Christine M. Bochen, ed., Modern Spiritual Masters Series, Orbis Books, 2000.

Share
Posted in God Is Big | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

God — Too Darned Good to Be True?

By Barbara Falconer Newhall

For most of my adult life I wasn’t so sure about God. That such a thing could exist seemed far-fetched, too good to be true.

But now that I’m firmly located in the second half of my life – okay, okay, the third third of my life (And no, I’m not calling it the last third of my life – I’m not ready to go there – yet) . . . now that I’ve moved along in my life, past the time when I have to make my mark on the world, produce those babies, get them raised to adulthood, achieve some success and glory as a writer, stash away some money for retirement . . . now that the gotta-do part of my life is behind me – I find that God’s existence is right there for all to see.

You can’t miss it. Something is going on out there. Of course it is. It’s common sense. How else could things be?

Joshua Tree National Monument

Isaiah appears to share my sense of the of-courseness of God:

“Have you not known? Have you not heard?

Has it not been told you from the beginning?

Have you not understood from the foundations of the earth?

It is he who sits above the circle of the earth,

and its inhabitants are like grasshoppers;

who stretches out the heavens like a curtain,

and spreads them like a tent to live in . . . ”   – Isaiah 40:21-22

The aspect of God that I’m still not so sure about – yet – is the immanent, ever-present, caring God, the one “who brings out their host and numbers them, calling them all by name.” The one who answers prayers. The one who, in Mark 1:31, takes Simon’s mother-in-law by the hand and lifts her up.

But maybe one day the immanent, caring God who knows our names will feel as obvious to me as the foundational Creator God who upholds the world and keeps things from falling apart. And maybe that will be the same day I’m ready to concede that, indeed, I have reached the last third of my life.

© 2012 Text and Photos BF Newhall

LECTIONARY, Epiphany 5

Isaiah 40:21-31

Psalm 147:1-12, 21c

1 Corinthians 9:16-23

Mark 1:29-39 

“Jesus left the synagogue at Capernaum, and entered the house of Simon and Andrew, with James and John. Now Simon’s mother-in-law was in bed with a fever, and they told him about her at once. He came and took her by the hand and lifted her up. Then the fever left her, and she began to serve them.”  — Mark 1:29-31

Share
Posted in Wrestling with the Bible | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

Wrestling with the Bible: A Leper I Admire

By Barbara Falconer Newhall

Accepting a gift isn’t easy for me, whether the gift be one of love, friendship or healing. For me, pride gets in the way.

Like the King of Israel and the mighty warrior Naaman, I often find myself keeping friends, spouses, children, admirers (and God?) at arm’s length lest –

Lest what?

Lest the gift be too good to be true – as the king of Israel suspects when he is presented with ten talents of silver, six thousand sheckels of gold, and ten sets of garments.

What a treasure! But the king cannot trust this generous overture of friendship from the faraway king of Aram. He assumes the worst, that “he’s trying to pick a quarrel with me.”

At other times the gift requires us to humble ourselves, as it did the warrior Naaman. Wash seven times in the Jordan? Humiliate myself by taking a bath in someone else’s river? I don’t think so. I’ll keep my sores and lesions, thank you.

Which brings us to the leper in Mark 1:40. He comes to Jesus begging and kneeling. More than that, he relinquishes the power to be healed – or not to be healed – to Jesus. “If you choose,” he says, “you can make me clean.”

If I were in that leper’s sandals, I’d have hedged my bets, done a little circumlocution, said something like, “I hear you heal people sometimes. Does that ever include leprosy?”

That way, if Jesus refused me, my pride would still be intact: I didn’t really ask, therefore, I didn’t really get turned down.

But the leper risked everything. He asked, and Jesus acted. “I do choose. Be made clean.”

How do the king of Israel, the mighty Naaman – and I – get to be more like that leper?

© 2011 text and photo Barbara Falconer Newhall

LECTIONARY, Epiphany 6:  http://www.lectionarypage.net/YearB_RCL/Epiphany/BEpi6_RCL.html 

2 Kings 5:1-14 1

Corinthians 9:24-27

Mark 1:40-45

Psalm 30

“Naaman, commander of the army of the king of Aram, was a great man and in high favor with his master, because by him the LORD had given victory to Aram. The man, though a mighty warrior, suffered from leprosy. Now the Arameans on one of their raids had taken a young girl captive from the land of Israel, and she served Naaman’s wife. She said to her mistress, ‘If only my lord were with the prophet who is in Samaria! He would cure him of his leprosy.” So Naaman went in and told his lord just what the girl from the land of Israel had said. And the king of Aram said, “Go then, and I will send along a letter to the king of Israel.’

“He went, taking with him ten talents of silver, six thousand shekels of gold, and ten sets of garments. He brought the letter to the king of Israel, which read, ‘When this letter reaches you, know that I have sent to you my servant Naaman, that you may cure him of his leprosy.’ When the king of Israel read the letter, he tore his clothes and said, ‘Am I God, to give death or life, that this man sends word to me to cure a man of his leprosy? Just look and see how he is trying to pick a quarrel with me.’

“But when Elisha the man of God heard that the king of Israel had torn his clothes, he sent a message to the king, ‘Why have you torn your clothes? Let him come to me, that he may learn that there is a prophet in Israel.’ So Naaman came with his horses and chariots, and halted at the entrance of Elisha’s house. Elisha sent a messenger to him, saying, ‘Go, wash in the Jordan seven times, and your flesh shall be restored and you shall be clean.’ But Naaman became angry and went away, saying, ‘I thought that for me he would surely come out, and stand and call on the name of the LORD his God, and would wave his hand over the spot, and cure the leprosy! Are not Abana and Pharpar, the rivers of Damascus, better than all the waters of Israel? Could I not wash in them, and be clean?’ He turned and went away in a rage. But his servants approached and said to him, ‘Father, if the prophet had commanded you to do something difficult, would you not have done it? How much more, when all he said to you was, “Wash, and be clean”?’ So he went down and immersed himself seven times in the Jordan, according to the word of the man of God; his flesh was restored like the flesh of a young boy, and he was clean.”  – 2 Kings 5:1-14

“A leper came to Jesus begging him, and kneeling he said to him, ‘If you choose, you can make me clean.’ Moved with pity, Jesus stretched out his hand and touched him, and said to him, ‘I do choose. Be made clean!’”   – Mark 1:40-41

Share
Posted in Wrestling with the Bible | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

Wrestling With the Bible: God Is Not Nice

By Barbara Falconer Newhall

I like to think of God as nice.

Nice as in helping out with some extra wine at a wedding when the host’s supply runs out. Nice as in “Suffer little children . . . to come unto me.” Nice as in forgiving everybody’s sins, Jacob’s, David’s, an adulteress’s, mine.

The Helix Nebula, NASA photo

But, by the looks of today’s scripture readings, God is not always so nice. God is also – fierce.

In the 2 Kings passage, a chariot and horses of fire descend to the earth as the prophet Elijah is taken up to heaven in a powerful whirlwind. It’s all the loyal Elisha, standing by his mentor till the end, can do to hold his ground and keep his eyes on the disappearing Elijah.

In the Mark passage, Jesus invites three of his disciples to accompany him to a mountaintop, where they are subjected to an unearthly theophany.  Jesus’ garments dazzle. Moses and Elijah appear. A cloud overshadows the disciples. The voice of God booms. The disciples are terrified.

What I like about the nice God is, it’s very human. I can understand it. What discomfits me about the other God, the God of whirlwinds and dazzling garments and big voices echoing from the heavens is – it is beyond my ken. It is reaching into my world from an alien place that may or may not be hospitable. And that God is frightening.

Like Peter, I want to tame the fierce God into niceness – build little dwellings for Jesus, Elijah and Moses. Domesticate them.

Can they be domesticated?

Photo and text © 2012 Barbara Falconer Newhall

LECTIONARY: Last Sunday after the Epiphany, The Transfiguration

2 Kings 2:1-12
Psalm 50:1-6
2 Corinthians 4:3-6
Mark 9:2-9

“As they continued walking and talking, a chariot of fire and horses of fire separated the two of them, and Elijah ascended in a whirlwind into heaven. Elisha kept watching and crying out, ‘Father, father! The chariots of Israel and its horsemen!’ But when he could no longer see him, he grasped his own clothes and tore them in two pieces.” – 2 Kings 2:11-12

“Six days later, Jesus took with him Peter and James and John, and led them up a high mountain apart, by themselves. And he was transfigured before them, and his clothes became dazzling white, such as no one on earth could bleach them. And there appeared to them Elijah with Moses, who were talking with Jesus. Then Peter said to Jesus, ‘Rabbi, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.’ He did not know what to say, for they were terrified. Then a cloud overshadowed them, and from the cloud there came a voice, ‘This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him!’ Suddenly when they looked around, they saw no one with them any more, but only Jesus.” – Mark 9:2-8

Share
Posted in Wrestling with the Bible | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Wrestling With the Bible: Is God Just Trying to Keep Us in the Game?

Peter at 6. Photo c 1987 Barbara Falconer Newhall

By Barbara Falconer Newhall

God is a lot like my son Peter.

When Peter was four or five years old, he spent an afternoon with a little friend who was developmentally disabled. Peter was ready to play that afternoon. That is to say, Peter was ready to play – with somebody.

I watched my son try strategy after strategy to engage the other little boy. Patiently, he put aside one superhero figure after another, one truck, one train, one pile of blocks until at last he found something that held the other boy’s attention and allowed him to interact genuinely with Peter as his friend.

A few years later, Peter discovered Monopoly. He was good at the game and, if he was playing with me, Park Place and St. James Place soon fell under his purview and my stack of bills quickly dwindled to a few tens and a couple fifties.

At this point, I’d be ready to quit and get back to the kitchen, but Peter wanted to keep on going. He wanted to play – with somebody.

To keep me in the game, my son would stake me to atrociously large loans. His generosity was beyond reason – but it kept the game alive until dinner time or bedtime finally intervened.

God is a lot like Peter. God wants to be in relationship.

In Genesis, for example, when human beings mess up, the Creator sends a massive flood and gives creation a fresh start. But God quickly recognizes that the humans are bound to mess up again. It won’t be long before humanity is reduced once more to the moral equivalent of a few tens and a couple fifties.

To keep creation in the game, God ties one hand behind God’s back – and promises never to use the flood punishment again.

God, like Peter, doesn’t give up easily.

I  can’t say that God much resembles my son in many other ways – except that I love them both more than I can say.

© 2012 BF Newhall

LECTIONARY, First Sunday in Lent: http://www.lectionarypage.net/YearB_RCL/Lent/BLent1_RCL.html

Genesis 9:8-17
Psalm 25:1-9
1 Peter 3:18-22
Mark 1:9-15

Share
Posted in Wrestling with the Bible | Tagged , , , , , | 4 Comments

GodsBigBlog: What’s a King?

Fall blooming chrysanthemums. PHoto by Barbara Falconer NewhallBy Barbara Falconer Newhall

That the last Sunday of the liturgical year celebrates the Feast of Christ the King tells me that, when all is said and done, we Christians believe Jesus Christ reigns over all that is.

And that would include the Jews, Muslims and Buddhists who live alongside us. What then do I say about Christ’s kingship to my non-Christian friends? That God has “put all things under his feet” — them included? (Eph 1:21,22)

Matthew limns a powerful Christ the King, who sits on a throne of glory before all the nations. But when Christ sorts the people before him it is not by nationality or religious belief, but by how they treated God’s forgotten: the hungry, the sick, the stranger, the prisoner. (Matt 25:31-46)

“Truly I tell you,” he says. “Just as you did it to one of the least of these . . . you did it to me.”

That’s a king?

Share
Posted in Wrestling with the Bible | Leave a comment
© 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012 Barbara Falconer Newhall. and www.GodsBigBlog.com. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without expressed and written permission from this blog's author is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used provided that full and clear credit is given to Barbara Falconer Newhall and www.GodBigBlog.com with appropriate and specifc direction to the original content. Bible texts are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright 1989 by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Church of Christ in the USA. The Psalms are from the Book of Common Prayer, 1979. Material originally published and copyrighted by the Oakland Tribune is posted here by permission. WordPress theme adapted from Thematic Theme Framework