I’m back. Did you miss me? No, you don’t have answer that. I did get a comment or two from folks who wondered why they didn’t get a Late Night Bible Study last week, but for most of you I assume it was a momentary blip. Let me explain. I was not preaching last weekend, and I was leading a retreat on Friday and Saturday. So, I just didn’t fit it in. And I almost had to say the same this week.
I’m late, I’m late. Feeling like the White Rabbit from the classic Alice in Wonderland is a common occurrence for me. OK, I had a mentor gathering this morning early. Mentee gathering, I was the mentor. These are folks entering into the process into ministry with the United Methodist Church and I am working with them. Yes, please, pray for them. Luckily it’s not just me, there is someone else alongside to keep me from wandering off the beaten path and sending them running for the hills. So, that is how my day started.
Then I had to go work with a group who is thinking about visual art in the new worship service (which is going to launch in six Sundays!). We thought about worship, we wandered the building, and then I left them to get to it, while I came home to work on this.
I got home to a hungry college kid home for spring break and unable to find a thing to eat in the house. And the crazy dogs who were needing some attention. And a voicemail telling me that one of our dear saints is in the ICU with a stroke.
I made a passing comment during our Ash Wednesday service a couple of weeks ago that I was considering giving up preaching for Lent. It was a joke at the time. Now I’m not so sure. Maybe there is a message in this. Maybe life is just too busy, or too complicated, or too distracted to spend time on stuff like this. Maybe it would be a better use of everyone’s time to just sit in silence and collect yourself, so that you can get back out there into the fray with a little bit of equilibrium. That would be gift enough, wouldn’t it? Just a pat on the back and a “there, there” would keep us going, don’t you think?
No. I don’t think. And I’m not saying that just because I’m the preacher. We need more than that to keep running this race. I need more than that. And, frankly, my life ain’t all that bad. At least I haven’t been sawn in half lately.
Hebrews 11:32 - 12:2 And what more should I say? For time would fail me to tell of Gideon, Barak, Samson, Jephthah, of David and Samuel and the prophets-- 33 who through faith conquered kingdoms, administered justice, obtained promises, shut the mouths of lions, 34 quenched raging fire, escaped the edge of the sword, won strength out of weakness, became mighty in war, put foreign armies to flight. 35 Women received their dead by resurrection. Others were tortured, refusing to accept release, in order to obtain a better resurrection. 36 Others suffered mocking and flogging, and even chains and imprisonment. 37 They were stoned to death, they were sawn in two, they were killed by the sword; they went about in skins of sheep and goats, destitute, persecuted, tormented-- 38 of whom the world was not worthy. They wandered in deserts and mountains, and in caves and holes in the ground.
39 Yet all these, though they were commended for their faith, did not receive what was promised, 40 since God had provided something better so that they would not, apart from us, be made perfect.
12:1 Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us, 2 looking to Jesus the pioneer and perfecter of our faith, who for the sake of the joy that was set before him endured the cross, disregarding its shame, and has taken his seat at the right hand of the throne of God.
Makes you wonder what we’re complaining about, doesn’t it? Yeah, I’m busy. Yeah, there are a lot of demands on my time. So, why is it that we struggle more with our stuff than these heros of the faith did with theirs? How did they conquer kingdoms and administer justice when I can’t get people to agree on a paint color for the sanctuary? How do they obtain promises and shut the mouths of lions, how did they quench raging fires when I struggle with family with different points of view on proper care for aging parents? And what in the world is a better resurrection? I mean, resurrection is resurrection, wouldn’t you think? The reference is to Elijah and the widow of Zarephath or Elisha and the Shunammite woman, both of whom lost only sons and then had the prophet raise them from the dead. What else could you ask for?
Reminds me of the story of the woman yelling on the beach that her son was drowning in the ocean, only to have the lifeguard dive in and swim out to rescue him. When the boy was brought back the mother glares at the lifeguard and says, “when he went in he had a hat.”
What is this better resurrection? What is it that these giants of the Old Testament didn’t get? This incompleteness, this promise unfulfilled, and how in the world is that fair, given all that they lived through? And do we, who may or may not be wandering about in the skin of goats, also miss this better resurrection? Is this one of those falling through the cracks between the Testaments things? Too bad for those guys and gals, they had the misfortune to be born before Jesus and therefore, well, tough luck!
Or is there something bigger going on here? Look to Jesus, that’s what the writer of the letter tells us to do. Look to Jesus, the pioneer (the one who did it first, this better resurrection thing) and perfecter (the one who did it right) of our faith. Looking at Jesus we see what sustained him on this journey, through the darkness of the night shift. “Who for the joy that was set before him, endured the cross.” For joy. Not that the cross was joy, but that joy was within reach, even on the cross. That joy was visible even in the darkness of that suffering.
That’s what we are contemplating this Lenten season, you remember, joy on the night shift. Not the loud exuberance of celebration, but the quieter sustaining confidence that you are not alone, even in the darkest night. It is the trust that says even if you can’t see beyond the end of your hurt, God is with you and will make you stronger because of that hurt, will hold you closer, will carry you through. It is the joy of knowing you are loved, even if the evidence seems to contradict that truth. It is the joy that comes from Jesus. Not from us, not from the situations we find ourselves in, not from circumstances. It comes from Him.
That’s why it is a better resurrection. Two things: first of all, this resurrection is into eternity. Those boys raised by the Old Testament prophets died again. Maybe the timing was better, maybe the moms were gone by then, maybe they were able to live out the potential of their lives, but they still died again.
Secondly, that resurrection was a singular experience. The better one is corporate. Communal. “God provided something better, so that they would not, apart from us, be made perfect.” That’s what they didn’t get, us. The community of faith, the body of Christ. Hebrews tells us that none of us know joy completely until we all know joy. That as long as you are wandering lost in the darkness of your own brokenness, I too am broken. And as long as I stumble in despair you cannot be perfected in your faith. This joy that comes from Christ, binds us together, makes us seek out the lost not to pass judgement but to love them into relationship. Into the family. Into the kingdom. The same one we are trying to live into. To run into, listening to the cheers of those who have gone before, even as we cheer on those who will follow us.
So, now I’m wondering, are there brackets in this tournament? Go team.
Shalom,
Derek
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