Sermon: Lost and Restoration

This was a Lenten sermon I preached two or three years ago. St. Patrick is a big part of the sermon, so I thought it would be good to post it today.

Happy Saint Patrick’s Day!

“Loss and Restoration”
Ruth 1

A fleet of 50 longboats weaved its way toward the shore, where a young Roman Brit and his family walked. His name was Patrick, the 16-year-old son of a civil magistrate and tax collector. He had heard stories of Irish raiders who captured slaves and took them “to the ends of the world,” and as he studied the longboats, he no doubt began imagining the worst.

With no Roman army to protect them (Roman legions had long since deserted Britain to protect Rome from barbarian invasions), Patrick and his town were unprepared for attack. The Irish warriors, wearing helmets and armed with spears, descended on the pebbled beach. The braying war horns struck terror into Patrick’s heart, and he started to run toward town.

The warriors quickly demolished the village, and as Patrick darted among burning houses and screaming women, he was caught. The barbarians dragged him aboard a boat bound for the east coast of Ireland.

Patrick was sold to a cruel warrior chief, whose opponents’ heads sat atop sharp poles around his palisade in Northern Ireland. While Patrick minded his master’s pigs in the nearby hills, he lived like an animal himself, enduring long bouts of hunger and thirst. Worst of all, he was isolated from other human beings for months at a time. Far from home, he clung to the religion he had ignored as a teenager. Even though his grandfather had been a priest, and his father a town councilor, Patrick “knew not the true God.” But forced to tend his master’s sheep in Ireland, he spent his bondage mainly in prayer.

After six years of slavery Patrick escaped to the European continent. Many scholars believe Patrick then spent a period training for ministry on an island off the south of France. But his autobiographical Confession includes a huge gap after his escape from Ireland. When it picks up again “after a few years,” he is back in Britain with his family. It was there that Patrick received his call to evangelize Ireland—a vision like the apostle Paul’s at Troas, when a Macedonian man pleaded, “Help us!”

“I had a vision in my dreams of a man who seemed to come from Ireland,” Patrick wrote. “His name was Victoricius, and he carried countless letters, one of which he handed over to me. I read aloud where it began: ‘The Voice of the Irish.’ And as I began to read these words, I seemed to hear the voice of the same men who lived beside the forest of Foclut …and they cried out as with one voice, ‘We appeal to you, holy servant boy, to come and walk among us.’ I was deeply moved in heart and I could read no further, so I awoke.”

Despite his reputation, Patrick wasn’t really the first to bring Christianity to Ireland. Pope Celestine I sent a bishop named Palladius to the island in 431 (about the time Patrick was captured as a slave). Some scholars believe that Palladius and Patrick are one and the same individual, but most believe Palladius was unsuccessful (possibly martyred), and Patrick was sent in his place. In any event, paganism was still dominant when Patrick arrived on the other side of the Irish Sea. “I dwell among gentiles,” he wrote, “in the midst of pagan barbarians, worshipers of idols, and of unclean things.”

Patrick was in his mid-40s when he returned to Ireland. Palladius had not been very successful in his mission, and the returning former slave replaced him. Intimately familiar with the Irish clan system (his former master, Milchu, had been a chieftain), Patrick’s strategy was to convert chiefs or kings first, who would then convert their clans through their influence. Reportedly, Milchu was one of his earliest converts.

Predictably, Patrick faced the most opposition from the druids, who practiced magic, were skilled in secular learning (especially law and history) and advised Irish kings. Biographies of the saint are replete with stories of druids who “wished to kill holy Patrick.” “Daily I expect murder, fraud or captivity,” Patrick wrote, “but I fear none of these things because of the promises of heaven. I have cast myself into the hands of God almighty who rules everywhere.”

Indeed, Patrick almost delighted in taking risks for the gospel. “I must take this decision disregarding risks involved and make known the gifts of God and his everlasting consolation. Neither must we fear any such risk in faithfully preaching God’s name boldly in every place, so that even after my death, a spiritual legacy may be left for my brethren and my children.”

Patrick continued to concentrate the bulk of his missionary efforts on the country’s one hundred or so tribal kings. As kings converted, they gave their sons to Patrick in an old Irish custom for educating and “fostering” (Patrick, for his part, held up his end by distributing gifts to these kings). Eventually, the sons and daughters of the Irish were persuaded to become priests, monks, and nuns.

From kingdom to kingdom (Ireland did not yet have towns), Patrick worked much the same way. Once he converted a number of pagans, he built a church. One of his new disciples would be ordained as a deacon, priest, or bishop, and left in charge. If the chieftain had been gracious enough to grant a site for a monastery as well as a church, it was built too and functioned as a missionary station.

Though he was not solely responsible for converting the island, Patrick was quite successful. He made missionary journeys all over Ireland, and it soon became known as one of Europe’s Christian centers.

Patrick was not the first or the last to be taken to a place he did not want to go. Neither was he the first to go to a place he might not be well received. In our passage today we are going to meet two women—one women was taken to a foreign country by her husband during famine. The other woman chose to leave her country for one where she might not ever be accepted. Ruth and Naomi both knew what it was like to live in a foreign land. They also knew what is like to lose or leave behind everything one has known.

Ruth 1:1-21
This story starts in perilous times—“In the days when the judges ruled.” Like England and Ireland in Patrick’s day was dangerous, so was Israel of Ruth and Naomi’s day. In fact Judges has just ended with a cycle of stories that has graphically shown how far Israel had gone in their disobedience, rebellion, and adultery. Judges has just ended with a story of horrible abuse, murder, the tribes of Israel nearly wiping out the tribe of Benjamin, then the final acts of kidnapping and forced marriage. The narrator of Judges final evaluation of the entire book in 21:25 is “In those days there was no king in Israel; all the people did what was right in their own eyes.” “In those day when the judges ruled.” In those days this story takes place.

The story starts off with the information that there is a famine in Israel, so a man, Elimelech, his wife, Naomi, and their two sons went to Moab where the famine did not reach. Then Elimelech died. Naomi was a widow, but she still had her two sons; she was still a mother. Her sons married then there was hope for grandchildren. But after ten years of marriage there were no children, and then the sons died. For all intents and purposes Naomi lost everything that gave her identity in her world—she was no longer a wife or mother, and she had no grandchildren. Like Patrick she had been taken to a foreign land and lost everything she held dear: her family. Just as Patrick, being a slave in Ireland became essentially a non-person, so did Naomi. She had no one to provide for her, protect her, or care for her in old age.

In verse 6 we find that Naomi has discovered that the “LORD had considered his people and given them food.” She decides to return to her homeland, and her daughters-in-law go with her. Before they get far into the journey, Naomi tells them to return to their own mothers’ homes. There is no reason for them to go with her: she cannot give them the secure future they will need. She is old. Even if she were married and could have more children immediately, it would be years before they could marry Ruth and Orpah and provide homes for them. Naomi does not want her daughters in law to suffer the same fate she has.

Orpah obeys her mother-in-law and returns to her own mother’s house. But Ruth stays. Ruth makes the same decision that Patrick made when he decided to return to Ireland to preach the good news–she decides to leave everything she has known and follow Naomi back to her homeland. Ruth will not abandon Naomi: she will go with Naomi. Naomi’s people will become Ruth’s people and Naomi’s God will take the place of Ruth’s gods. Ruth will leave her home, her religion, and her land to insure that Naomi is taken care of and provided for. Later in Ruth her actions toward Naomi will be called “loyalty.” Loyalty translates the Hebrew word chesed—the word that is used to describe the covenant love and loyalty between God and God’s people. This Gentile woman, a Moabite, will be commended for showing covenant love toward Naomi, an Israelite.

Ruth and Naomi return to Bethlehem where Naomi describes what has happened to her life in verses 20-21. She left as a wife and mother—she left as a person who had security and stability. She now returns a widow and childless, which in her society means no identity as a person. Like many of us do when we suffer loss and hard times in life Naomi blames God. But through the rest of the book God is going to be working through Ruth, Boaz, and Naomi herself to restore what Naomi has lost and to create a home for Ruth who left hers.

Like Naomi, Ruth, and Patrick all of us go through times of loss and times when we must leave parts of our lives behind. Sometimes the losses are huge, like Naomi’s—husband, children, and home. Sometimes the losses are jobs, health, or friends. Sometimes our losses aren’t big, but they are significant to us. Then there are times like Ruth when we will leave behind parts of our lives. All of us know missionaries who have literally left everything they have known to follow God’s call on their lives. I have also known people who have left very well-paying jobs because they could not do their job and keep their Christian ethics. And just as there are little things we lose, there are also little things we leave. They may not look like much to anyone else, but to us they were a significant part of our lives.

We’re in the season of Lent. It’s the time the church traditionally dwells on the themes of loss and leaving behind the world. There are those who do give up something for Lent. But whether we do that or not, we are all called upon to look at our lives in the light of the grace that God has given us. Because we have received a salvation we could not earn and did not deserve, we look at how our lives reflect what God has done in our lives. Are we living in the joy of our salvation? Are we obeying God? Are we doing everything we can to make room in our lives for God? Are we sharing God’s love with others? And as we reflect on our lives in the light of this grace, we may be called on to lose something dear to us. We might be called to leave behind something we thought we could never live without.

But as we live in times of loss and leaving parts of our life behind, we need to remember that Ruth does not end with the return to Bethlehem and all that Naomi has lost, and all that Ruth has left behind. Ruth goes to the fields to gather grain for Naomi and herself. The town notices and talks about this Gentile woman’s loyalty to an Israelite widow and her hard work to provide food for her. When called upon to take care of his family, Boaz goes above and beyond the law and duty to marry Ruth and provide a home for both Ruth and Naomi. And Ruth ends with the joyous celebration over the birth of her and Boaz’s first son. Naomi’s loss is restored, and what Ruth has left behind has been replaced. God has provided.

As we go through Lent our losses and what we leave behind is not the end of the story. Because the ending of Lent is not Good Friday—it’s Sunday—the day of the resurrection. Good Friday reminds us that there is no resurrection apart from death, but Good Friday is not the end of our story. There is resurrection and restoration. Because of that hope when God calls us to leave we can go; when we have losses, we can look forward toward restoration. As Ruth, Naomi, and Patrick found out: God can bring incredible redemption out of loss and leaving. God used Patrick to bring the gospel to a whole land and save it. Ruth and Naomi would go on, to not only be great grandmothers of Israel’s greatest king–but Ruth would be a great grandmother to the very Messiah who came to restore all of us to God.

The Power of Presence

Chuck Warnock has a wonderful post about the time he made a pastoral call to a strip club because the owner’s wife and children went to his church, but Freddie never got closer than the parking lot in dropping them off and picking them up. The day I went to the stip club is an excellent post, and I encourage you to go read it. It made me think about a short essay I wrote about meeting people where they are at.

“The Power of Presence”

I had read yet another well-meaning, although very narrow-minded, diatribe of how Christians should only frequent and hang out in places that are Christian owned and/or operated, and whose clientele are other Christians.

When I read or hear this line of thought, I always think: didn’t Jesus say something about His followers being salt and light to a dark world that needs some seasoning? Didn’t Jesus say He would make us fishers of people? Wasn’t Jesus the one who commissioned us to go into the world and make disciples? So how are we supposed to make disciples if we spend all of our time in the great, almighty evangelical bubble? Just with each other for “edifying” company?

At the time I worked within the “evangelical bubble.” I spent my whole day with other Christians, so I made it a point, when I went out, to frequent places where I knew lost people were. It was the only way I ever met people I could be salt and light to. If I took this person’s advice I would have never seen a person who wasn’t a Christian. Not only then, but now, how in the world can I be like Christ if I’m never around the people he hung out with–the tax collectors, sinners, and prostitutes–people who needed God?

But I don’t want to be like those people who only talk about being saved and shoving tracks down the poor, lost person’s throat either. This is where my thoughts on the power of presence come in. I wonder if Christians underestimate the power our presence simply has somewhere? As a Christian I represent Christ. That means where I am, so is Christ. I have noticed that when I hang out in a place for a long enough time the people who work there and other regulars start noticing that I’m different. If I hang around one place long enough the questions start coming. Then I have the opportunity to talk about God, and I am always ready to give “an accounting for the hope that is in in” me (1 Peter 3:15, NRSV). But I don’t necessarily go looking for opportunities to evangelize. I don’t want to be a person that the only time I ever talk to lost people is so I can “save” them. I have this belief that even if I never get an opportunity to talk to them, that my presence, Christ’s presence, still has an impact on them. So even if I don’t get a chance to give an accounting of my hope, I still believe that I have had a positive influence on the place I was in simply because I brought Jesus with me.

In The Message Eugene Peterson translates John 1:14 this way: “The Word became flesh and blood, and moved into the neighborhood.” If Christians aren’t willing to “move” into the neighborhoods and hang-outs of the lost, why should they take us seriously or listen to anything we have to say? (Personally, I don’t trust anyone who won’t hang out with me on “my turf,” and I am a Christian!) If Jesus was willing to meet and hang out with people right where they’re at, should we do any less?

So when I lived in Kansas City, I would still go to Westport and hang out in all of my favorite coffee shops where I was surrounded by people who were atheists, agnostics, New Age gurus, Gaia high priestesses, Buddhists, and a smorgasbord of other religions, spiritualities, and beliefs. No…wait….Jesus and I still hung out these places. One of the things I’ve noticed is that when you get to know people, then you can’t take a whole group of people (say the Wiccans) and demonize them as those evil, evil people. You find out they’re a lot like you. You find common ground. I think we need to be concerned with getting to know people and loving them and leave the convicting and saving to the Spirit (that’s the Spirit’s job anyway).

Now I live in Chicago things still haven’t changed; although, I don’t think I have met a Gaia high priestess yet…but I will.

Ten Questions about the Bible

Jendi Reiter wanted to know what my answers to these questions are. So here we go.

1. State briefly what you believe about the Bible. I believe the Bible is the people of God’s theological confession of faith. This is how God came to us, started a relationship, and continues that relationship.

2. How is the Bible inspired? I believe in the plenary inspiration of Scripture, which means I believe the Bible contains all truth necessary for faith and Christian living.

3. So is the book of Judges inspired, or only the Gospels? Yes, I believe the book of Judges is inspired. Most of it is a manual on how not to live, and the danger of everyone doing what is right in their own eyes.

4. How is the Bible authoritative? The Bible is authoritative in all things pertaining to faith and salvation. I don’t believe the cultural institutions of the day are authoritative today (like patriarchy and stoning someone for working on the Sabbath). That was the culture God had to work with and should not be taken as authoritative or inspired.

5. Is the Bible a human book? It is both a human and divine book. I don’t believe God zapped people and dictated through them. I believe God revealed God’s self to the people, and inspired them to write what they experienced. I believe it’s the faith community’s confession of faith in this God, and how this God has a relationship with us throughout history. It is both divine and human.

6. Are there aspects of the Bible that are not divine? As I said in 4, there are cultural things that are not divine. That is what God had to work with.

7. Why do you call the Bible a conversation? Because both God and people talk and have a relationship throughout the Bible. It’s not a one-sided monologue, but a diverse conversation with many different points of view.

8. What do you believe about canonization? These are the writings that have led people to a better understanding of God through time and many different communities. The community said these are the writings that are sacred and show us God and the way to live.

9. Do you reject the inspiration of some books? I don’t believe the Apocrypha is inspired.

10. Anything else you want to say? Nope, I think this covers it.

The picture is from The Book of the Kells. I found this picture at the University of British Columbia Library.

The God of Human Worth

In a recent article on God’s Politics, Diane Butler Bass wrote this:

As we recited the baptism liturgy, I was struck by the final promise. The minister asks, “Will you strive for justice and peace among all people, and respect the dignity of every human being?” The parents (or the candidates in the case of adult baptism) respond, “I will, with God’s help.”

Christian tradition connects justice and peace with the practice of respecting the dignity of every person. The idea that every creature is dignified, related to God, formed in love, and connected to the whole of the universe forms the center point of Christian theology and ethics. Respect for each person in the web of creation supports the work of justice and peacemaking. Without a profound spirituality of human dignity, practices of justice and peacemaking may slide into the realm of power politics. The baptism liturgy strongly implies that without respect for human dignity, there exists no motive to strive for God’s justice and peace.

Reading this I realize how short we fall short of this particularly in the evangelical tradition. So much of the time we look at people as “us” and “them.” And until “they” join “us” they are somehow less than human, and God does not love them as much as God loves us. We may never say it that bluntly, but that is how we live and act. But the Bible teaches that God made every human being in God’s image, and for that reason alone every person is worthy of respect and dignity.

This is most clearly seen in the book of Jonah where God sends the Jew Jonah to the pagan Assyrians (the Nazis of the ancient world) and tells him “Go at once to Nineveh, that great city, and cry out against it; for their wickedness has come up before me” (1:1). Jonah does not want to go and preach at Ninevah because “I knew that you are a gracious God and merciful, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love, and ready to relent from punishing” (4:2). He tried to run away to Tarshish, but a storm and a big fish brought him back, and he went to Ninevah. He proclaimed that God would destroy the city in three days. And Ninevah repents; God does not destroy the city. Jonah’s response to God’s saving work is “O LORD! Is not this what I said while I was still in my own country? That is why I fled to Tarshish at the beginning; for I knew that you are a gracious God and merciful, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love, and ready to relent from punishing” (v. 2).

The tale of Jonah is one of the Bible’s literary gems. Marked by symmetry, balance, word-play, irony, and surprise, the book purports to teach Jonah (and all readers) about the problem of gracious acceptance for one’s own people (“Deliverance is from the LORD,” Jonah says in 2:9) while churlishly resenting similar treatment for others (see 4:1-5) (The New Interpreter’s Study Bible, 1297).

What do we do with this God who insists on loving people who do not acknowledge this God, let alone serving God? What do we do with a God who insists we take care of the marginalized: the homeless, drug addicts, whores in order to be like God (remember who Jesus hung out with)? What do we do with this God who loves our enemies and insists that we do the same? These are the questions Jonah asks us, and like Jonah we are left to contend with the God who loves and reaches out to all human beings, no matter how corrupted or sinful we are.

The Christian Bible, tradition, and liturgy all proclaim that everyone is made in the image of God and worthy respect and dignity. Do our lives and words reflect what we claim to believe?

The Wisdom of Winter

I’m menstruating. I decided to work on the novel this week. I’m aiming for 100 pages by the end of Sunday. I’ve written around 9. I didn’t feel good today, and it was hard to think. But I really tried not to take it out on my body. I told my body to do what it needed to do. To menstruate. To cleanse my body and renew herself. I told my body it was okay for us to be slow today. And it is okay. This is the way I was created. This is part of who I am. I am in that sacred space of life and death. A time of great mystery and worthy of great respect. Today I respected and honored my body. I did what I could and I rested. It was a good day.

Winter is traditionally the time of wisdom–the time of the wise ones. Spring is coming: the season of the youth and maiden is upon us. What has this winter taught me? What wisdom have I learned? What has the Spirit of Wisdom taught me?

The Spirit of Wisdom has taught me to be in a place I don’t want to be: the Nazarene denomination. She has taught me that I need to stand and prophecy–be a sybil–and not run. She has given me a wonderful church with good friends–new and old. The Spirit is faithfully with me through my resistance and foot dragging. I am learning to trust the Spirit, although I feel I cannot trust the leaders of my church.

The Spirit of wisdom is teaching me to accept love unconditionally. The Spirit has given me a precious husband who reaches for me in his sleep and draws me close. I am learning to trust him and tell him what I want without veiled threats and manipulations. I am learning that I don’t have be afraid of disappointing him or making him angry. He puts situations in their context. He is understanding and kind. He is the Love of my life, and I have no idea how I lived without him. I am so glad I waited and held out for my Lappidothmy power that I am equal to. I am so glad I didn’t settle. He was worth every minute of the wait.

I have learned how to be kind to my body and not constantly beat her up. I have learned there is wisdom in every cell of my being, and I need to listen. I can trust my body: she knows what she needs, and she will tell me. I need to listen. I am learning being female is good. My body is good. God created me that way.

The Spirit of Wisdom has shown me the critics that I let run me into the ground: voices from the past that are no longer valid. Perhaps they were never valid. The constant stress I keep myself under trying to live up to impossible, imaginary expectations. These need to be ignored and put away. There is nothing wrong with the choices I have made. I need to let go of childish expectations and live my own life. It is my life to live.

I have learned a lot this Winter. Spirit of Wisdom, thank you for the things You have taught me. Thank you for the wisdom You have given me.

God of the spring and new beginnings, I look forward to the spring of fertility, renewal, and creativity. I look forward to what we will conceive and birth together. Teach me how to be light-hearted and filled with joy. Teach me new songs and new dances.

God, Creator of the young and old, thank you for Your grace and the wisdom You teach me. Thank you for the way You have created my body. Thank you for the life You have given me. Continue to teach me Your ways. Amen.

The Fall and Women

In Does It Really Mean Helpmate? we saw that God created man and woman to be equals in every way. In Genesis 1 both male and female were given the mandates to procreate and to have dominion over the earth. The human had been placed in the garden to tend it and guard it, and one assumes the male and female continued to do what the human was created to do, and they fulfill the mandates given in chapter 1 together and as equals. There we saw that complementarians try to subordinate woman under man because man was created first, and she was created to be an ezer cenedgo, a word that is normally mistranslated “helpmate” instead of its literal meaning: a power equal to.

Another tactic complementarians use is that women’s subordination is due to the Fall. When God said that a woman’s desire would be for her husband, and he would rule over, God meant it for all time. It doesn’t matter that the rest of curse is not meant for all time: we have made farming easier through machinery, we have diminished labor pains with drugs, and we normally don’t actively look for snakes to mutilate. Complentarians seem to think that the only part of the Fall that is for all time is the a man ruling over his wife.

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Career Women of the Bible: Sisters Who Served

In Luke 10:38-42 we meet Martha and Mary who are apparently two single sisters living together; Luke makes no mention of Lazarus, their brother. When Jesus and the twelve come into their village Martha welcomes them into her home. At his point, normally sister is pitted against sister to elevate “being” with the Lord above “doing” for the Lord. This interpretation misses what Luke is doing in this narrative. As Fred Craddock points out the “radicality” of this story should not be overlooked: “Jesus is received into a woman’s home (no mention is made of a brother) and he teaches a woman” (Craddock, 152).

For the first century Jew sitting at someone’s feet did not bring to mind children sitting at the feet of adults listening to stories; sitting at someone’s feet meant higher, formal education. Jesus was known as a rabbi, a teacher; to sit at his feet meant that one was being trained as a disciple. Mary was not quietly sitting contemplating all Jesus said. She was in active training with the other disciples (Grenz, 75). This was not a usual activity for women. Martha was doing what women were supposed to do: be good homemakers.

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Career Women of the Bible: The Samaritan Woman

In John’s Gospel the woman at the well is the first person Jesus openly reveals himself as Messiah. The pious Jewish leader, Nicodemus, did not hear the words that Jesus tells this foreign woman when she states her belief in the coming Messiah: “I am he, the one who is speaking to you” (John 4:26). This is also the longest private conservation Jesus had with anyone on record.

Verse 4 says that Jesus “had to go through Samaria.” The edei (had to) makes it clear that this is a divine appointment; it was not geographically necessary for Jesus to go through Samaria, and Jewish travelers normally traveled around Samaria. Jesus and his disciples entered a Samaritan village, and the disciples went to buy food while Jesus sat by well because he was tired. A woman from the village came for water. Jesus then did something that was a cultural taboo: he spoke to a woman in public, and not just a woman, but a Samaritan woman. She was twice an outcast in Jewish thought. Jesus asked her for a drink of water. She was understandably shocked: a Jewish man was speaking to her, a Samaritan woman? He also should not have wanted to share a vessel with her for drinking water since it would be considered unclean. She was right to be confused.

The conversation then turned to a discussion of living water versus the water in the well. At this point many commentators say that the woman did not have the ability to engage Jesus in serious theological conversation; because she was a woman she did not have the intelligence to keep up with the conversation (O’Day, 384). That is why she was confused about this living water Jesus offered. But the woman was no more confused over living water than Nicodemus was over being born again in the previous chapter. The woman was not confused because she was a woman, just as Nicodemus was not confused simply because he was a man. Both of them were confused because Jesus was introducing them to new spiritual truths. Whereas Nicodemus never quite gets what Jesus was telling him in John 3, the woman did come to understand who Jesus was and what he was telling her.

Although the woman still wasn’t sure what this living water was, she wanted it. When Jesus told her to go get her husband we find out that this woman has had five husbands, and was now living with a man who was not her husband. Many commentators have jumped to the conclusion that she was an immoral woman who had been divorced five times (ibid). There are at least two other reasons why this woman has had five husbands (John 4 never says she was divorced).

If five men had divorced her, the reason could be is because she was barren. They married, found out she couldn’t have children, and divorced her to marry more fertile women. She could also be trapped by the Levirate marriage law. Her five husbands could have been brothers she was supposed to produce an heir for. Either the family ran out of sons or the next son could have refused to marry her. That she was living with a man now could have been the less of two evils: her only other choice after husband number five died or divorced her could have been prostitution. Regardless of why the woman had had five husbands, the implication is still she is a woman who cannot keep a man.

After Jesus told the woman about her life, she knew that he was a prophet. Again many commentators downplay the woman’s theological ability by saying her next question concerning the proper place of worship is a ploy to draw attention away from her supposed immoral life (ibid). What they don’t acknowledge is the woman asked what is probably the most pressing theological question of the Samaritans in the first century: where is the proper place of worship?

The Samaritans were descended from the Judean people who had not been deported in the exile and the other peoples who were imported to the region. They continued to worship Yahweh. Alexander the Great allowed the Samaritans to build a temple on Mt. Gerizim, which became a point of contention when the Jews returned and rebuilt the temple in Jerusalem. Tensions continued to degrade until the temple on Mt. Gerizim was destroyed by the Jews in 128 B.C. (The Dictionary of Jesus and the Gospels, 726-7). Both groups believed that they were worshiping Yahweh, and both believed that they had the right place to worship Yahweh. The woman had met a prophet–someone who knew what had happened in her life, and one she was sure could answer the most pressing theological question of her heart and of the time.

Jesus did not accuse her of changing the subject; he answered her question. It did not matter where one worshiped God–it was how God was worshiped. There would no longer be limitations of geography in worshiping God for God is spirit, and he will be worshiped in spirit and truth. The woman stated her belief in the coming Messiah who would reveal all things to them. Jesus then revealed something to this unnamed, foreign woman that he did not reveal to Nicodemus, “I am he, the one who is speaking to you” (John 4:26). The Samaritan woman was the first person that Jesus revealed himself as Messiah to in the Gospel of John, and this is the first “I amâ” statement in the gospel as well (Cunningham and Hamilton, 122).

Why did Jesus reveal himself to this woman and not to Nicodemus? The woman was not expecting a political Messiah. The Samaritans were looking for the ta’eb or “restorer” (Sloyan, 54). The Samaritans were not looking for a political Messiah from the line of David; they were looking for a prophet like Moses who would restore the observance of the law of Moses as it should be (ibid). Jesus could reveal himself as Messiah to her without worrying about political misunderstandings that would have arisen in Judah.

The disciples returned with food scratching their heads and wondering why Jesus is speaking to a foreign woman in public. Then the woman went to her people and said, “Come and see a man who told me everything I have ever done! He cannot be the Messiah, can he?” (v. 28). She became the first evangelist in the gospel of John. She went and told her people about Jesus and brought them to him, so they could see and hear for themselves. Jesus never approached people “randomly or casually but as possible bearers of witness to him to whole populations” (ibid). A foreign, single woman who had had five husbands, and was now living with a man was the one Jesus chose to bring a town in Samaria to him so that they could say, “We have heard for ourselves, and we know that this is truly the Savior of the world” (v. 42).

Sources

Shawna Renee Bound, Your Daughters Shall Prophesy: A Biblical Theology of Single Women in Ministry, unpublished thesis, (© by Shawna Renee Bound 2002), “Women in the Gospels.”

Loren Cunningham and David Joel Hamilton, Why Not Women? A Fresh Look at Scripture on Women in Mission, Ministry, and Leadership (Seattle: YWAM Publishing, 2000).

Dictionary of Jesus and the Gospels (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 1992).

Gail R. O’Day, “John,” Women’s Bible Commentary, exp. ed., eds. Carol A. Newsom and Sharon H. Ringe (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 1998).

Gerard Sloyan, John, (Atlanta: John Knox Press, 1988).

What is a prophet?

Pat Robertson has made another “prophecy.” I put prophecy in quotations because what he considers prophecy is not biblical prophecy. Biblical prophecy is not a straight prediction/fulfillment event. That could be a part of biblical prophecy, but that was never its main thrust. The prophets’ calling was to call the people back into a right relatioship with God. It was to remind them of their covenant promise to God: that Yahweh alone would be their God, and they would be his people. They called the people to fulfill their covenant obligations: to worship God alone, love each other, and take care of the widow, orphan, the opressed, and the alien (see Leviticus 19:9-18, 33-34; Deuteronomy 24:17-22).

When judgment was proclaimed, it was in the hopes that the judgment would not come. Judgment was preached so that God’s people would repent of their sin, turn back to God, and obey him. They were not predetermined events set in stone. The predictions could be changed because God wanted the people restored to him. He waited for them to make their decision before he acted.

That strongly demonstrates that the primary category for prophetic literature should not be “prediction of the future.” A prophet was given insight (inspiration) into how God works in the world and what God’s people need to do to respond faithfully. That prophetic word to the people was itself part of the “response” to God’s self-revelation. However, the prophet then translated that understanding about God into the historical arena in which he lived, using the circumstances, language, metaphors, cultural allusions, poetry, nearly anything available to communicate that message (including some rather unusual actions, such as walking around naked and barefoot for 3 years, as in Isaiah 20:1-4) (Bratcher, “Prophecy and Prediction”).

The historical elements the prophet used were the vehicle of the message: not the message itself. The message did not focus on catastrophies and disasters—the message was always about God and the people’s response to him. The message was always God’s desire for the people to be faithful to him as he was to them.

The prophets spoke about God; that is, they spoke theology, cast in the circumstances of historical event. They read history in light of God’s covenant with his people, and then translated the message about God back into the historical context in which the people were living. . . (ibid).

This is first place where Robertson’s prophecy is not biblical. His prophecies are always much more concerned with disaster and God punishing sinners than with calling God’s people to be faithful. In this latest prophecy he said that the second half of 2007 would be a time of mass killings.

“The Lord didn’t say nuclear, but I do believe it’ll be something like that – that’ll be a mass killing, possibly millions of people, major cities injured,” Robertson said.

“There will be some very serious terrorist attacks,” he said. “The evil people will come after this country, and there’s a possibility – not a possibility, a definite certainty – that chaos is going to rule.” Robertson did not say where the attacks would occur (Vegh).

He never said what the message was: he only predicted disaster.

Another place where Robertson’s theology is wrong is that he always predicts disaster for the entire United States, thinking that the entire country is in a covenant with God. When Jesus set up the church, the people of God ceased being a nation or country. The people of God is now the church universal.

That is not to say that the prophets didn’t hold the pagan nations around Israel and Judah responsible: they did. But they held the pagan nations to a different standard for different reasons: the nations were condemned for acts of atrocity that they knew through being human were wrong. Israel and Judah were condemned for forsaking their God and not being loyal to their covenant with him. The nations were condemed for different reasons than Israel and Judah (see Amos 1:3—2:16).

For Robertson’s prophecy to approach being biblical, he needs to tell us why God is judging this way. He also needs to tell us who God is angry with. Is he angry with nonbelievers for doing things they know are wrong? Is he angry at the church for not living faithfully and obeying him? And the judgment has be a place where repentance can happen. Judgment is never given as the last word. God wants the judgment to lead to repentance and restored relationship with him.

All Robertson’s prophecy contains is judgment. There is no message. There is no call to repentance. There is no grace. Therefore, Robertson’s message is not prophetic nor biblical.

Sources

“Pat Robertson Predicts ‘Mass Killing'” at MSNBC.com.

Dr. Dennis Bratcher, “Prophecy and Prediction” and “Criteria of a True Prophet” at The Voice.

Stephen G. Vegh, “Robertson says God told him of ‘mass killing’ in U. S. in 2007” in The Virginian-Pilot.

Dear Mary

Dear Mary,

What was it like? What was it like when Gabriel appeared and told you that God had chosen you to carry and bear the Messiah–to give birth to the divine; to birth the holy? What was it like to fear losing everything you loved, the only life you’d known, when you chose to obey God? Were you called crazy when you said God made you pregnant? Did you hear whispered “insane,” “not quite right” behind your back?

What was it like when Joseph decided to divorce you? He was a good man and didn’t want to shame you, but what was it like knowing you’d never marry? You’d always be considered an adulteress? Is that when you went to Elizabeth’s? When did you know Joseph changed his mind? When did he tell you about the dream? Before or after that trip?

You made the long journey to Elizabeth’s. Did you somehow know she would understand because Gabriel told you, she too was pregnant by divine means–like Sarah and Hannah?

What was it like to embody theology? To have The Magnificat rise from your womb and out of your lips? Some say other people put those words in your mouth, but I don’t believe it. Women are in the perfect place to proclaim the justice and mercy of God. We know those injustices in our bodies. And still we are the ones to extend mercy. Yes–The Magnificat is yours–you who bore the injustices of people shaming and maligning you. You were the perfect person to proclaim the justice of God that was coming into the world through your body.

Did you have any idea how your life would change when you heard the words: “Hail Mary, full of grace. Blessed are you among women”? Did you think you were blessed and full of grace?

Did it freak you out to think you would have to raise the Son of God? I bet you and Joseph talked about that–a lot. And Joseph–God gave him a dream and told him everything: he immediately obeyed. He married you, and you raised Jesus together. Did your heart sing when he told you of his dream? Were you relieved to know you wouldn’t be bearing the holy and raising the Messiah alone?

I wish we knew more about you. Your hopes, dreams, and fears. I wish we knew the things you pondered and stored up in your heart. God asked incredible things of you. Difficult things. Impossible things. And you said yes. Yes, Mary–you are blessed–not only among women, but blessed among the world.