When I first realized that I was about to complete three years of Divergences, I decided that the next time through the three years of the Lectionary, I would add a section to each one called “so what?” I’d try to take the often rather academic approach in a lot of the Divergences and bring them back to earth, asking, “Okay, so what? What does this have to do with anything in my life?”
Then I came to this, the very first Divergence I ever wrote, and I realized something. I started off doing “so what” without having to work at it. As I compare this first publication with the ones I’ve been offering more recently, I am almost ashamed to see how I’ve retreated from my heart into my head in a lot of them.
Now, I’ll give myself a small break here. Over the course of three years I encountered a LOT of texts I hadn’t seriously studied before, texts that troubled me. Searching the internet for papers on those texts helped me write on them in a way that kept me focused on Good News when the text really challenged me. So, yeah, I got drawn into my head at times, because I am stuck being the guy whose head has to make sense of his heart.
At any rate, I’ll be adding “So what” to as many of the upcoming Divergences (plus track two during the season after Pentecost), but this one just doesn’t seem to need that section.
First Reading
Acts 16:9–15
And a vision appeared to Paul in the night: a man of Macedonia was standing there, urging him and saying, “Come over to Macedonia and help us.” And when Paul had seen the vision, immediately we sought to go on into Macedonia, concluding that God had called us to preach the gospel to them.
So, setting sail from Troas, we made a direct voyage to Samothrace, and the following day to Neapolis, and from there to Philippi, which is a leading city of the district of Macedonia and a Roman colony. We remained in this city some days. And on the Sabbath day we went outside the gate to the riverside, where we supposed there was a place of prayer, and we sat down and spoke to the women who had come together. One who heard us was a woman named Lydia, from the city of Thyatira, a seller of purple goods, who was a worshiper of God. The Lord opened her heart to pay attention to what was said by Paul. And after she was baptized, and her household as well, she urged us, saying, “If you have judged me to be faithful to the Lord, come to my house and stay.” And she prevailed upon us. (ESV)
Second Reading
Revelation 21:10, 22-22:5 (omitted verses in italics)
And he carried me away in the Spirit to a great, high mountain, and showed me the holy city Jerusalem coming down out of heaven from God,
having the glory of God, its radiance like a most rare jewel, like a jasper, clear as crystal. It had a great, high wall, with twelve gates, and at the gates twelve angels, and on the gates the names of the twelve tribes of the sons of Israel were inscribed—on the east three gates, on the north three gates, on the south three gates, and on the west three gates. And the wall of the city had twelve foundations, and on them were the twelve names of the twelve apostles of the Lamb.
And the one who spoke with me had a measuring rod of gold to measure the city and its gates and walls. The city lies foursquare, its length the same as its width. And he measured the city with his rod, 12,000 stadia. Its length and width and height are equal. He also measured its wall, 144 cubits by human measurement, which is also an angel’s measurement. The wall was built of jasper, while the city was pure gold, like clear glass. The foundations of the wall of the city were adorned with every kind of jewel. The first was jasper, the second sapphire, the third agate, the fourth emerald, the fifth onyx, the sixth carnelian, the seventh chrysolite, the eighth beryl, the ninth topaz, the tenth chrysoprase, the eleventh jacinth, the twelfth amethyst. And the twelve gates were twelve pearls, each of the gates made of a single pearl, and the street of the city was pure gold, like transparent glass.
And I saw no temple in the city, for its temple is the Lord God the Almighty and the Lamb. And the city has no need of sun or moon to shine on it, for the glory of God gives it light, and its lamp is the Lamb. By its light will the nations walk, and the kings of the earth will bring their glory into it, and its gates will never be shut by day—and there will be no night there. They will bring into it the glory and the honor of the nations. But nothing unclean will ever enter it, nor anyone who does what is detestable or false, but only those who are written in the Lamb’s book of life.
Then the angel showed me the river of the water of life, bright as crystal, flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb through the middle of the street of the city; also, on either side of the river, the tree of life with its twelve kinds of fruit, yielding its fruit each month. The leaves of the tree were for the healing of the nations. No longer will there be anything accursed, but the throne of God and of the Lamb will be in it, and his servants will worship him. They will see his face, and his name will be on their foreheads. And night will be no more. They will need no light of lamp or sun, for the Lord God will be their light, and they will reign forever and ever. (ESV)
Gospel Text
John 14:23–29
Jesus answered him, “If anyone loves me, he will keep my word, and my Father will love him, and we will come to him and make our home with him. Whoever does not love me does not keep my words. And the word that you hear is not mine but the Father’s who sent me.
“These things I have spoken to you while I am still with you. But the Helper, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, he will teach you all things and bring to your remembrance all that I have said to you. Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid. You heard me say to you, ‘I am going away, and I will come to you.’ If you loved me, you would have rejoiced, because I am going to the Father, for the Father is greater than I. And now I have told you before it takes place, so that when it does take place you may believe. (ESV)
Comments and Questions for Discussion
First Reading
In today’s reading from Acts we’re in that interesting “travelogue” section that is narrated in the first person. The traditional interpretation of these first person portions of Acts is that they are Luke’s own memories, inserted into the text of Acts. Luke being the physician who is named as one of the companions of Paul. Recent research into these sections has called that into question for a variety of reasons. Perhaps the most persuasive of the solutions to the question of these passages is that they came to Luke (the author of Luke and Acts, whose real name is not known to us, but whom we call “Luke” for brevity’s sake) as one of his sources as he compiled the two volume work known as Luke-Acts.
I have my own reasons for concluding that Luke was not the author of these first person portions of Acts. For those of you who’ve read some of my earlier Divergences, you know already that I see an overarching purpose in Luke-Acts that would cause me to ascribe the work to someone with a broader view of the growth and trials of the early church than someone who was a close traveling companion of Paul. For those of you who haven’t, in a nutshell, I see Luke trying to tell the stories of Jesus and Paul in a way that will mend the growing rift between Jewish and Gentile Christianity in the late first and early second centuries. I won’t go into that in detail here, but I’ll try to get back to it, and perhaps link to some older writings.
Still, for our purposes this week, it is enough for me to say that I don’t think the author of Luke-Acts was the first person author of this passage.
But it’s inclusion adds a certain thrill of intimacy with the life and journeys of Paul, and in this case, with Lydia. It’s really a rather short story, and simple. Paul travels, at the call of the Lord, to the region known as Macedonia and visits several cities there. In Philippi he meets a woman, a seller of purple cloth, whose heart is open to his preaching, and she chooses to be baptized. As Christians, what are we to take from this passage? If I were to be told to preach on this one portion of Acts, what would I want to bring out of it?
Here are a couple things that tug at my heart as I contemplate this passage.
- Paul goes to Macedonia and Philippi in response to a “night vision.” We might well think that this is something other than a dream, but Luke makes no other reference to dreams, so I’m not sure this isn’t meant to refer to a very lucid dream. Regardless, Paul pays attention to guidance that God gives him in sleep. I have some experience with this, having once turned down a very lucrative job offer on the basis of a “night vision.” I think that reflection on the gift of dreams as a valuable way to hear from God could be a way to approach this reading.
- Paul is sent to Macedonia and in particular to Phiippi to meet one woman, Lydia. Not that there aren’t other converts in Philippi, but Paul isn’t in search of huge numbers, just someone open to the Gospel. This says to me that while I can get caught up in the desperate need of the culture around me to hear the Good News of God in Christ, it is the one individual in front of me that matters. I would do well to be open to God’s leading with regard to the person standing in front of me.
Second reading
This week we have John’s description of the City of God, descended from heaven. I could go off on a number of tangents here, and I probably will, but I’ll try to be brief on each one.
First, and perhaps most important of all is that the final vision of God for His relationship with humanity is that it happens here, not off in some distant “heaven.” This has been God’s purpose from the first moments of Genesis, (see last week’s discussion of the “sea that is no more”!) to establish paradise, the Kingdom of God, on earth. If ever there were one image I’d love to erase from Christian history, it would be the one where God gathers us all into some non-terrestrial place to live with Him. “Who gets into heaven?” is the unfortunate question that inevitably arises. It’s Just. Not. About. That. If there is one unbreakable thread that I see tying the text of the Revelation to John together it is this: There will come a time of such discord and desperation that the entire world will turn to the God revealed in Jesus as the answer. The whole world. And in that context, there will come the reign of peach and justice that God set Adam and Eve to creating back at the beginning of the book.
Frankly, I don’t look forward to having to live through that discord that leads up to the emergence of the Kingdom of God, but if we take Revelation contextually, we know that this is precisely the person for whom the genre known as apocalypse was written. Someone living through great trials, for whom the truth that God is revealed in the trials brings hope. And so, while I watch the world crumble around me I continue to work in hope, not desperation. And that’s key. I work. To bring that Kingdom into being. The fact that God is revealed in the midst of tribulation is no excuse to sit back and wait on it. It’s an encouragement to continue to be a part of God’s work to bring His reign of peace into being.
And the part about doing it in hope is impossibly important. The moment I let my hope slip I become desperate and angry and my ability to do God’s work vanishes. What I do cannot be divorced from the spirit in which I do it. If I do it in a spirit of fear or anger, I am defeated before I start. It is quite simply impossible to build the Kingdom of God out of bricks of rage or anxiety. And when I try, I do more damage than good, because I besmirch the Gospel with my fear. Those who hear and see me become less likely to be open (as Lydia was in our first reading) to the Gospel because they see me, a representative of that Gospel, acting out of anger and fear. I am always, always called to check on the state of my heart when I seek to share the Gospel. If I am not in a place of hope, I’d do better to keep quiet.
Wow.. so much for brief.
Okay. So I’m only going to look at one other small portion of this passage. When we come around to it again in three years, I’ll have some fun with other sections. There are so MANY images in this text worthy of meditation. But here’s one that probably troubles a lot of readers. It still makes my heart jump when I read it, and not in a good way because of the way I’ve heard it interpreted by other people/preachers.
“But nothing unclean will ever enter it, nor anyone who does what is detestable or false, but only those who are written in the Lamb’s book of life.”
This short passage takes the universality of the openness of the New Jerusalem (all the nations, all the kings, her doors will never be shut…) and in the hands of some interpreters, knocks all of that into a cocked hat. Don’t let it do that for you.
First… remember the apocalyptic aspect of the text. Such texts are written for people who are in mortal peril, whose world is truly one of chaos. In that context, how does this read. It’s a comfort. In the City of God you won’t have anything to fear. No one who does what is harmful will be there.
Second. Remember that Jesus often touched the unclean. And what happened? It didn’t make him unclean, touching them made them clean. Nothing unclean enters the New Jerusalem because uncleanness just can’t live in the same space with the cleanness of God. Likewise, it’s just not possible to do detestable things in the Presence of God.
Third, that reference to those whose names are written in the Book of the Lamb. Remember that there is an earlier reference to that book in Revelation, the Book of the Lamb who was slain from the foundation of the world. This book is timeless. It’s not some record that’s being created as someone in heaven keeps score of your doings and decides whether or not to write your name in. Your name was written in it before you were born. And the gates of the city will stand open for you until you come to your senses and enter them. (They never close by day, and oh, by the way, there’s no night, so….)
So, on to the….
Gospel Text
Today’s reading starts off with Jesus replying to someone, but we aren’t told who, or why, so here’s the verse that precedes it.
John 14:22
Judas (not Iscariot) said to him, “Lord, how is it that you will manifest yourself to us, and not to the world?” (ESV)
It seems to me that Judas’ question is grounded in his continued expectation that Jesus’ manifestation will be one of earthly dominion and glory. That is, He’d reign as an earthly king, so then how could He manifest Himself without also showing Himself to the world.
And Jesus’ reply is that Jesus is manifest (after His death, resurrection, and ascension) to the hearts of the ones who “keep” His word. And this word keep is important. It doesn’t mean obey, although one might reasonable assume that the doing would follow on the keeping. But to me, “keeping” Jesus’ word means to treasure it, to hold His word close as the gift that it is, even when it’s difficult. And the more I “keep” it, treasure it, cherish it, the more my life becomes conformed to it. That’s what it means that the Father comes to those who keep His word and loves them. It’s what we’re doing here as we wrestle with these texts. We’re holding them close and treasuring them, and as we do we feel that stirring in our hearts that the Comforter brings, awakening us to His Presence, His reality, and gently reshaping us into the image of the Son.
And Jesus says these things to those gathered with Him at the Last Supper so that they, and you and I, will know that what we’re experiencing when we hold these text close, when we love them as the gifts they are, this experience was precisely what was planned. We aren’t making it up. This stirring, this burning in our hearts is the Spirit, the Comforter, loving us and conforming us (Paul would say transforming us) into the image of Jesus, “from glory to glory.”
My folks in Laurinburg used to tease me about how I would end these reflections by apologizing for going on too long. I guess I have, and I’m sure I will again, but I’ll try not to apologize in the future!
