Guilford Park Presbyterian Church

Grief and Hope: The Unexpected Companions of Easter

4/20/2025

Have you ever found yourself writing about resurrection while sitting on death itself? It sounds bizarre, but that's precisely where I found myself ten years ago, the day before Easter. Let me share a story that forever changed how I view the interplay of grief and hope, especially during the Easter season.

When Easter Meets a Horse Funeral

It was the Saturday before Easter, and I was headed to my office to write the sermon I'd been procrastinating on. Then, I received an unusual text: "Pastor Stephen, quick question: how much experience do you have burying horses?" Little did I know that this message would lead me to one of the most profound experiences of my pastoral career.

Within an hour, I found myself sitting on the warm carcass of a beloved horse named Luke, comforting his grieving owner. As she shared stories of Luke's 25-year life, I witnessed her pain. Later, as we pushed Luke's body into the freshly dug grave, I couldn't help but think about the Easter sermon I still had to write.

This experience crystallized for me the intricate relationship between grief and hope, especially as we approach Easter. As the 13th-century Persian poet Rumi said, "The wound is the place where the light enters you." This simple yet profound line articulates the complex dance between sorrow and joy we often encounter in our faith journey.

Grief and Hope: Strange Bedfellows

It's tempting to avoid discussing grief on Easter Sunday. After all, shouldn't we focus solely on the joy of resurrection? But the truth is, there is no hope without grief. Because grief is part of being human, and if we can't bring our grief to Church, it means our whole selves aren't welcome.

So today, I ask you to hold grief in one hand and hope in the other. For such is the work of a living, active faith grounded in the truth of the Resurrection and acknowledging the complexity of the world in which we live.

The Women at the Tomb: A Biblical Perspective

Consider the emotions that Jesus' disciples experienced on that first Easter morning. Luke 24:1-3 tells us:

"But on the first day of the week, at early dawn, they came to the tomb, taking the spices they had prepared. They found the stone rolled away from the tomb, but when they went in, they did not find the body."

The day begins without any alleluia; instead, it presents a group of women who arrive with burial spices to anoint the body of their cherished Savior. Their tears echo the sorrow of those of us who have lost loved ones, who are witnessing the world's brokenness, or who are carrying burdens that feel as though they keep us from hope's warm embrace.

Grief: An Essential Part of Faith

Grief leads us to act in strange ways. It disrupts our bodies and minds, prompting both memories and losses. The women at the tomb weren't the only ones affected. When they ran to tell the men about their experience, Luke 24:11 says, "But these words seemed to them an idle tale, and they did not believe them."

Can we really fault them? What's dead should remain dead. It's one of the few certainties we can rely on in this unpredictable world. If that certainty is no longer reliable, what else is plausible?

Hope in the Resurrection

And there's the hope, friends. Because in a world that demands answers fitting into neat, tidy categories that uphold the status quo, resurrection invites questions that make the powers of evil distinctly uncomfortable.

What if Caesar isn't as omnipotent as he claims he is?
What if power isn't a muscle to flex but a humility to embrace?
What if grief is something that unites us in practicing hope?
What if that very God who dies is none other than the God who lives forever?

The resurrection is more than a hallmark card featuring bunnies and eggs in soft pastels; resurrection is resistance! It signifies accepting a different form of unacceptability- one that might be ridiculed by others. Proclaiming the resurrection today means embracing what those in power deem truly unacceptable: that anyone or anything besides them holds the final authority.

Life Application: Embracing Both Grief and Hope

So, how do we live in this tension between grief and hope? Here are some practical steps:

Acknowledge Your Grief: Don't shy away from your pain. Bring it to God and to your faith community. As Paul says in 1 Thessalonians 4:13, we "do not grieve as others do who have no hope."
Hold onto Hope: Even in your darkest moments, cling to the promise of resurrection. As my wife often says, "if all is not well, then all is not over."
Encourage One Another: Paul instructs us in 1 Thessalonians 4:18, "Therefore encourage one another with these words." Share your stories of grief and hope with others, and be open to hearing theirs.
Live Out the Resurrection: Let your life be a testimony to the power of resurrection. Stand against injustice, show love to the marginalized, and proclaim hope in a world that desperately needs it.

As we leave this Easter celebration, may our hearts overflow with alleluias—alleluia for the grief that has shaped us, alleluia for the hope that sustains us, and alleluia for the resurrected Christ who walks with us through every trial. Go forth, celebrate with courage, and let your lives testify to love's victory over death. And as you do so, remember: "the wound is the place where the light enters you."

0 Comments

When God Dies: Embracing the Paradox of Faith

4/18/2025

0 Comments

Have you ever considered what it means to believe in a God who dies? It's a challenging concept that strikes at the heart of our faith, especially during Holy Week. As we approach Good Friday, we're confronted with a profound paradox: the intersection of divinity and death.

The Collision of God and Death

In Luke's Gospel, we witness a scene that defies our expectations of an all-powerful deity. Luke 23:33 tells us, "When they came to the place that is called The Skull, they crucified Jesus there with the criminals, one on his right and one on his left." This image of Jesus, hanging between two criminals, forces us to grapple with a difficult question: What is to be done with a God who dies?

Our faith often requires us to hold seemingly incompatible ideas in tension. Good Friday magnifies this, placing God and death on a collision course. We're faced with "a God who willingly hangs in solidarity with those ravaged by the forces of injustice and evil" and "a God who refuses to save himself."

The Dance Between Acceptance and Resistance

When it comes to death, we often find ourselves caught between acceptance and resistance. On one hand, we acknowledge our mortality, reminded each Lent that "we are dust and to dust we shall return." On the other, we resist aging, expending considerable effort to delay its signs.

In Luke's account, we see this tension embodied in the two criminals crucified alongside Jesus. "One resists while the other accepts. Thus, Jesus literally inhabits the space between resistance and acceptance."

Jesus: The Space Between Resistance and Acceptance

The criminal who resists represents those who reject the idea that God could die. His resistance "echoes through the millennia to this day in those who wish to promote a perversion of Christianity that coerces rather than invites, dominates instead of serves, and derides instead of loves."

In contrast, the accepting criminal recognizes something profound in Jesus. Unlike his counterpart, "he surrenders to both the death before him and the divine beside him, choosing to place his trust in the one whom he hopes will remember him when he enters his kingdom" (Luke 23:42).

The Power of "Good Resistance"

While acceptance can be faithful, there's also a place for what we might call "Good Resistance." Jesus himself resists "empire, violence, and the power and privilege of political domination." This resistance ultimately leads to his acceptance of the cross – the very cross he calls us to take up.

We're called to resist "the forces that decry empathy as weakness, the temptation to respond to violence with violence, and the invitation to join those who mock the image of Christ in those who are rejected, scorned, and derided."

Accepting a God Who Dies

What if we truly accept a God who dies? This acceptance acknowledges that "the divine is not distant or detached from our pain." Instead, we recognize a God who "cares enough about the powerless, the vulnerable, and the downtrodden to hang in solidarity with them until the end."

By accepting this profound truth, we open ourselves to a transformative understanding of God's love. We see that "even in the face of death, there is a deeper truth at play—a truth that transforms despair into hope, loss into love, and darkness into light."

Putting It Into Practice: Embodying Christ's Love and Solidarity

Our acceptance of a God who dies isn't just a theological concept – it's a call to action. We're challenged to embody this love and solidarity in our own lives. Here are some ways we can do this:

Stand in the gap: Like Jesus, we're called to stand alongside those who are marginalized, oppressed, and suffering. How can you support those in your community who are often overlooked?
Resist indifference: Challenge yourself to resist apathy and actively engage with the needs of others. This might mean volunteering, advocating for justice, or simply being more aware of those around you.
Be a voice for the voiceless: Use your platform, whatever it may be, to speak up for those who can't speak for themselves. This could involve writing to local representatives, sharing important information on social media, or having difficult conversations with friends and family.
Practice empathy: In a world that often sees empathy as weakness, choose to see it as strength. Take time to truly listen to others and try to understand their experiences.
Embrace the tension: Remember that faith often involves holding seemingly contradictory ideas in tension. Don't shy away from the difficult questions – wrestle with them and allow them to deepen your faith.

As we journey through this Holy Week, let us embrace both the acceptance and resistance that come with following Christ. In the sacred space between Good Friday and Easter Sunday, we encounter a God who dies – and in doing so, shows us the true depth of divine love.

0 Comments

The Delicate Balance: Power vs. Humility on Maundy Thursday (Inspired by Guest Preacher Rev. Dr. Kathryn Campbell)

4/17/2025

0 Comments

Have you ever found yourself caught between the desire for power and the call to humility? It's a struggle as old as time, yet as relevant today as it was 2000 years ago. As we approach Maundy Thursday, we're invited to reflect on this delicate balance and consider which path we choose to follow.

The Sacred In-Between of Holy Week

Maundy Thursday Marks a pivotal moment in Holy Week, what commentators describe as a "sacred in-between." It's a time when we, as modern-day believers, become interlopers into the events of Jesus and His disciples at the Last Supper. This evening sets the stage for a profound lesson in humility that would echo through the ages.

As we read in John 13:3-5, "Jesus knew that the Father had put all things under his power, and that he had come from God and was returning to God; so he got up from the meal, took off his outer clothing, and wrapped a towel around his waist. After that, he poured water into a basin and began to wash his disciples' feet, drying them with the towel that was wrapped around him."

The Power Struggle Among Disciples

While Jesus was demonstrating the ultimate act of humility, His disciples were engaged in a very different pursuit. "During Jesus' final days, all those around him seem to be clawing for power," I noted in my sermon. We see Judas selling out Jesus for 30 pieces of silver, and other disciples asking, "who is the greatest" amongst them.

It's not hard to imagine Jesus quietly sighing, perhaps even throwing up His hands in exasperation, as He watched those He trusted miss the gravity of the moment. "When Jesus is exposing his humanity is when he is met with the power his disciples are attempting to gain," I observed.

Modern Examples of Power vs. Humility

This struggle between power and humility isn't confined to Biblical times. We see it play out in our world today, from politics to social media. But occasionally, we witness powerful examples of humility that remind us of Jesus' teachings.

One such example occurred recently with Pope Francis, the leader of the Roman Catholic Church. Following a serious illness and hospitalization, the Pope made an unexpected visit to St. Peter's Basilica. But it wasn't his presence that caught attention - it was his appearance.

As author Julianne Stanz beautifully described:

"What I saw was different. Healing—especially after a serious illness—has a way of reshaping and refocusing our priorities. It teaches us to be grateful: for life, for reduced pain, for each precious breath... If your image of the priesthood is configured to power, rather than service, then you may struggle with the image of Pope Francis-frail, in his wheelchair, oxygen apparatus clearly visible in a simple poncho. But to me, it is an image of profound humility and humanity. A Pope who leads by presence, not performance. A Pope for the people, of the people."

Choosing Between Power and Humility

So, when asked, "whom do you choose to serve?" how do we answer? Do we serve power, or do we serve humility?

This night, Maundy Thursday, is intended for us to think deeply about this question. We're invited to reflect on it through the gospel account of Jesus and His disciples in their final hours together, through sharing a meal at the communion table, and through the act of foot washing that, admittedly, might make some of us uncomfortable - just as it did Simon Peter.

Putting It Into Practice

As we navigate our own "in-betweens," may we always choose the path of humility over the path of power, just as we have been taught. Here are some practical ways to cultivate humility in our daily lives:

Serve others: Look for opportunities to serve those around you, especially those who can't repay you.
Listen more, speak less: Practice active listening and seek to understand others before being understood.
Admit mistakes: Be quick to acknowledge when you're wrong and ask for forgiveness.
Celebrate others' successes: Instead of seeking the spotlight, shine it on others' achievements.
Seek feedback: Regularly ask for honest feedback about your blind spots and areas for growth.

Remember, as Philippians 2:3-4 instructs us, "Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves, not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of the others."

As we move through this Holy Week, let's challenge ourselves to follow Jesus' example of humble service. In doing so, we may find that true power lies not in exalting ourselves, but in lifting others up.

0 Comments

Finding God's Voice Amidst the Noise: A Palm Sunday Reflection

4/13/2025

0 Comments

Have you ever felt overwhelmed by the constant noise in our world? We're constantly bombarded with noise, from smartphone notifications to social media chatter, from traffic sounds to cultural uproars. As we approach Palm Sunday and Holy Week, I reflect on the importance of noise and silence in our faith journey.

The Cacophony of Modern Life

We inhabit a world filled with overwhelming noise. As I mentioned in my sermon, "Digital disturbances arise from incessant push notifications on smartphones and other connected devices. Additionally, informational noise emerges from the vast amount available at our fingertips, whether by searching online or simply asking virtual assistants like Alexa or Siri."

But it's not just technological noise that surrounds us. We're also confronted with:

The expectation of immediate responses to texts, emails, or social media
Cultural uproar surrounding recent culture wars
Urban noise from traffic, construction, and city life
The relentless "buzz" of consumerism

In short, we live in an extraordinarily loud world.

The Tension in Jerusalem

As we focus on Palm Sunday, it's important to remember that Jerusalem was also a large and loud city, especially during Passover. The atmosphere was tense, much like I experienced during a visit to Belfast, Northern Ireland, during "Marching Season."

"Jerusalem experienced when Jesus entered Jerusalem shortly after committing 'grand theft donkey,'" I reflect. The shouts of praise for Jesus as he entered the city were not just celebratory – they were politically charged and dangerous.

Listening to Silenced Voices

In this noisy world, we must pay attention to the often silenced voices. As I mentioned in my sermon, "Many among us are either afraid to use their voices or fear that their voices will be silenced." This includes immigrants, refugees, those dependent on Medicare, our unhoused neighbors, and even some members of our own congregation who feel their voices aren't heard.

As followers of Christ, we must ask ourselves:

"When I hear so many voices filling the room, whose voices remain silent? Is that silence voluntary or coerced?"
"Have I remained silent when I should have spoken up?"
"Where are the voices of Hosanna surrounding me, the voices pleading for help?"

The Balance of Noise and Silence in Holy Week

Holy Week offers us a beautiful blend of silence and celebration. While Palm Sunday and Easter are filled with joyful noise, the days in between provide opportunities for quiet reflection.

I encourage you to experience both the noise and the silence of this sacred week:

Join in the energetic shouts of "Hosanna" and the waving of palms on Palm Sunday
Reflect on the silence of the Upper Room during our Maundy Thursday service
Contemplate the profound silence of Good Friday
Celebrate with joyful cries of "Alleluia" on Easter Sunday

I remind my congregation, "Holy Week isn't just about celebration; it's also about reflection, and we must not overlook the profound silence in the stories that unfold in between."

The Significance of Silence

Let's not forget the power of silence in our faith journey amid the noise. Remember:

"There's the silence of the Upper Room as the disciples watched with bated breath while Christ broke the bread and poured the cup."
"There's the silence that envelops the Garden of Gethsemane as Jesus heals the wounded ear of the Roman soldier."
"And there's the silence of the cross when God himself dies in an act of political violence."

In these moments of silence, we often find God's presence most profoundly.

Putting It Into Practice

As we journey through Holy Week, I encourage you to reflect on the following:

Take time each day for silent reflection. Turn off your devices and sit in God's presence.
Listen for the silenced voices in your community. How can you amplify their concerns?
Participate in both the celebratory and contemplative services of Holy Week.
Read Luke 19:29-40 and reflect on the political nature of Jesus' entry into Jerusalem.
Ask yourself: "If I choose not to speak up, if I choose not to say, 'Hosanna, save me' (or us or them), who will speak up?"

Remember, as we navigate the shouts and silences of Holy Week, "God is there. Wherever the oppressed cry out for justice, God is there. In the places where mercy feels lost, and righteousness seems a naive concept, God is there. And yes, even, and especially in the stillness and silence of death itself, God is there too."

May we all find God's voice amidst the noise this Holy Week.

0 Comments

The Sacred Balance of Rest and Growth: Lessons from a Fig Tree

4/7/2025

0 Comments

"How many sleeps, Daddy?"

That's how we measure time in our house. With a three-year-old and a four-year-old, we've found that counting "sleeps" is the closest we can get to helping them understand the abstract notion of time's linear movement. It's a simple yet profound way of Marking the passage of days, whether we're counting down to a visit from grandma or the start of kindergarten.

But what happens when we're faced with longer periods of waiting? When the number of "sleeps" stretches beyond our ability to count? It's in these moments that we can learn valuable lessons about rest, growth, and patience – lessons that Jesus beautifully illustrated in the Parable of the Fig Tree.

The Parable of the Fig Tree: A Lesson in Patience

In Luke 13:6-9, Jesus tells a story that resonates with anyone who's ever felt impatient for results:

"A man had a fig tree planted in his vineyard; and he came looking for fruit on it and found none. So he said to the gardener, 'See here! For three years I have come looking for fruit on this fig tree, and still I find none. Cut it down! Why should it be wasting the soil?' He replied, 'Sir, let it alone for one more year, until I dig round it and put manure on it. If it bears fruit next year, well and good; but if not, you can cut it down.'"

Who among us doesn't know what it's like to have the impatience of the landowner? "How many sleeps, Mr. Gardener, until this darn fig tree gives me what I want, what I've worked for, what I've waited for?"

Or perhaps we relate more to the passionate gardener, pleading for more time: "Just let me try something new! This project, this relationship, this community just needs some new soil, some new manure, a new plan. Just give me a year and then we'll revisit!"

And sometimes, we might even feel like the vulnerable fig tree itself: "I'm doing my best! I just need a little more time, a little more support, a little more patience, a little more rest."

The Importance of Rest

In our fast-paced world, it's easy to forget the value of rest. We push ourselves constantly, ignoring the signals our bodies send us when we're overworked. But just like the fig tree in the parable, we need periods of rest to produce fruit in our lives.

Take, for example, the process of sleep. Though we think of sleep as "restful," our bodies are actually hard at work when we're doing it. As we lay our heads down to rest, our bodies begin a busy process of healing, rejuvenating, and resetting. Sleep resets and strengthens neural pathways in our brains to aid in decision making, memory recollection, and learning new things. Our brains rid themselves of toxins accumulated during waking hours through a process called "synaptic pruning." As we dream, the tissue of our bodies heals and regenerates.

Rest as a Catalyst for Growth

The parable of the fig tree and the science of sleep both point to a profound truth: rest and growth are not opposites, but partners. In the words of writer Cole Arthur Riley:

"Rested God, we want more than a life lived exhausted. That you have woven healing rhythms of rest into our minds and bodies reminds us we are worthy of habitual restoration. Keep us from apologizing for our own healing, that we would know that when we pause or rest, we are restoring not only our own bodies but the very condition of a world held captive by greed and utility."

This idea of rest as restoration applies not just to our physical bodies, but to our spirits, our relationships, and our communities. When we allow ourselves and others the time and space to rest, we create the conditions for new growth and fruitfulness.

Challenging Our Culture of Hustle

Our culture often tells us that constant hustle is the key to success. But the parable of the fig tree challenges this notion. As Jeff Chu points out in his commentary on this passage:

"Perhaps this parable is better read as a gentle rebuke against those of us who are all too comfortable with our on-demand, instant-gratification culture—and who believe the lie that we can control more than we actually do... Perhaps this is our invitation: Slow down. Do your part. Remember the promise: the harvest will come."

In a world that often feels stuck and stagnant, seeking places of rest and growth is a spiritual discipline. It's a sacred task to practice rest and allow for the growth that comes with it.

Putting Rest into Practice

So how can we incorporate more rest into our lives? Here are a few practical steps:

Prioritize sleep: Aim for 7-9 hours of sleep each night. Your body and mind will thank you.
Create moments of stillness: Set aside time each day for quiet reflection, prayer, or meditation.
Practice Sabbath: Whether it's a full day each week or a few hours, create a regular time of rest and renewal.
Be patient with yourself and others: Remember the gardener in the parable. Sometimes growth takes time and nurturing.
Reframe "productivity": Recognize that rest is not laziness, but an essential part of being truly productive and fruitful.

As we close our eyes to rest, may we open them to see the world anew. May we find, in the quiet moments of rest, the strength to grow and bear fruit in our lives and in our world. In the name of God the Creator, Redeemer, and Sustainer, may all of us, God's children, say: Amen.

0 Comments

Lost and Found: The Outlandish Grace of God

4/6/2025

0 Comments

Have you ever felt lost in life? Maybe you've made mistakes that seem irredeemable, or circumstances beyond your control have left you feeling adrift. Today, I want to share a story that might change your perspective on what it means to be lost – and found – in God's eyes.

The Transformative Power of Christian Witness

Let me tell you about a man known as "Neaners." He was an inmate at a county jail in Skagit County, Washington, where a unique worship community called Tierra Nueva (which means "New Earth" in Spanish) was ministering to the marginalized. The Tierra Nueva folks "listened to his story, walked alongside him without judgment, prayed together, and read scripture. In other words, they embodied the hands and feet of Christ for him."

The result? Today, Neaners is no longer in a gang or incarcerated. Instead, he's on staff at Tierra Nueva, ministering to others who have walked the path he knows all too well. This story captivates me because "it blurs the distinction between sheep and shepherd. It blurs the line between the one 'lost' sheep and the ninety-nine 'righteous' sheep."

The Absurdity of God's Love

This real-life transformation reminds me of Jesus' parable of the lost sheep. You know, the one where a shepherd leaves 99 sheep to find one that's wandered off? I sometimes think we should call it "The Parable of the Foolish Shepherd." After all, "What shepherd in their right mind would leave ninety-nine sheep in the wilderness to find one that has wandered off?"

It's absurd. It's bad business. It doesn't make sense. But here's the thing: "Fortunately, God doesn't care much about our capitalistic definitions of what is 'sustainable.'"

The Comedy of God's Kingdom

Jesus ends this parable with an amusing line: "Just so, I tell you, there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous people who need no repentance" (Luke 15:7). But let's be honest – do we really believe there are 99 people out there who need no repentance?

These parables are divine humor, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't take them seriously. As Frederick Buechner once said, "I think that these parables can be read as jokes about God in the sense that what they are essentially about is the outlandishness of God, who does impossible things with impossible people."

The Many Ways of Being Lost

It's crucial to remember that being lost isn't always our fault. Yes, sometimes we make poor choices, like the prodigal son in Luke 15. But other times, we're lost due to circumstances beyond our control. The lost sheep? It just wandered off – that's what sheep do. The lost coin? It's an inanimate object – it can't be blamed for getting lost!

These stories remind us that "being lost is part of the human experience. It happens to all of us, and it doesn't make us bad people or unfaithful Christians." If you're feeling lost, I have news for you: you're in good company!

The Celebration of Being Found

Here's the incredible part: whether you're lost due to your choices, circumstances beyond your control, or some combination of the two, there's a fantastic celebration waiting for you once you're found! And perhaps these celebrations can spark conversations about what we've learned while feeling lost.

The theological truth of these parables is this: "none of us is truly found until all of us are found." What if we understood that the essence of Christianity is about finding one another? "Perhaps this thing called faith is really about looking at our neighbor and saying simply, 'If you're lost, so am I.'"

Putting It Into Practice

Reflect on times when you've felt lost. What did you learn during those periods?
Look for opportunities to be the "hands and feet of Christ" for someone who feels lost.
Remember that God's love doesn't follow our logic. Celebrate the "outlandishness" of grace.
Consider how you might blur the lines between "lost" and "found" in your community.

In the end, let's set aside the calculus of our cutthroat culture and "dream with God of a world where the biggest parties aren't hosted in the mansions of billionaires but in the fields of shepherds." Because in God's kingdom, being found is cause for the greatest celebration of all.

0 Comments

Balancing Righteousness and Mercy: Lessons from a Wee Little Man

4/6/2025

0 Comments

Have you ever wondered why Jesus seemed to hang out with all the wrong people? It's a question that has puzzled believers and skeptics alike for centuries. As Rachel Held Evans once beautifully put it, "What makes the Gospel offensive is not who it keeps out, but who it lets in." Today, let's dive into a story that perfectly illustrates this paradox – the tale of a wee little man named Zacchaeus.

The Curious Case of Zacchaeus

We all know the children's song, but there's so much more to Zacchaeus than his short stature and tree-climbing antics. Luke 19:1-10 introduces us to this chief tax collector, a man despised by his community for his role in perpetuating poverty and collaborating with the oppressive Roman regime.

But here's where it gets interesting. Despite his unsavory reputation, Zacchaeus was curious about Jesus. And friends, curiosity is the beginning of faith. "In all my years reading the Gospels, it seems Jesus isn't interested in seeking perfect individuals. He can, however, work with curious people. And Zacchaeus was one of them."

The Tension of Righteousness and Mercy

Now, here's where we need to pause and consider something important. Can we hold two seemingly contradictory ideas in tension? On one hand, we have the righteous anger of the crowd towards Zacchaeus. Their grievances were valid – this man had exploited them for financial gain. On the other hand, we see Jesus extending mercy to this very same "sinner."

"Can we honor righteous anger on one hand while simultaneously embracing the mercy that Jesus offers to those who have caused harm? That friends, is the messy reality of faith!"

The Path of Teshuvah

This is where the Hebrew concept of Teshuvah comes into play. It's not just about saying "sorry" – it's a comprehensive process of repentance and reconciliation. Let's break it down:

1. Confession: Acknowledging the wrongdoing
2. Starting to Change: Initiating the process of transformation
3. Making Amends: Repairing the harm caused
4. Apology: Expressing sincere regret
5. Making Different Choices: Preventing further harm

Zacchaeus embodied this process when he declared, "Look, half of my possessions, Lord, I will give to the poor; and if I have defrauded anyone of anything, I will pay back four times as much" (Luke 19:8).

The Power of Curiosity and Grace
What strikes me about this story is how Zacchaeus' curiosity led him to a life-changing encounter with Jesus. He didn't wait for an invitation – he took the initiative to seek out Jesus, even if it meant climbing a tree!

And Jesus' response? He didn't condemn Zacchaeus or lecture him about his sins. Instead, He said, "Zacchaeus, hurry and come down; for I must stay at your house today" (Luke 19:5). This simple act of grace and acceptance was transformative.

Seeking Out the Lost

Jesus concludes this encounter with a powerful statement: "Today salvation has come to this house, because he too is a son of Abraham. For the Son of Man came to seek out and to save the lost" (Luke 19:9-10).

Notice that Jesus doesn't just talk about individual salvation. He speaks of salvation coming to Zacchaeus' entire household. This suggests that when we balance righteousness and mercy, the healing ripples out to affect entire communities.
Putting It Into Practice

So, how do we apply these lessons in our daily lives? Here are some practical steps:

Cultivate Curiosity: Like Zacchaeus, be curious about Jesus and His teachings. Don't be afraid to ask questions or seek Him out in unexpected ways.
Balance Righteousness and Mercy: When faced with injustice, honor the righteous anger it provokes. But also be open to the possibility of transformation and reconciliation.
Practice Teshuvah: Whether you're the one who's caused harm or you've been harmed, engage in the process of confession, change, amends, apology, and different choices.
Extend Grace: Remember Jesus' example of "winsome grace, gentle mercy, and a love so attentive—and so offensive—that it healed."
Seek Community Healing: Recognize that our actions of righteousness and mercy can have far-reaching effects beyond just ourselves.

As we journey through this Lenten season, let's remember that "mercy and righteousness must be held together closely. One without the other leads us into trouble." May we, like Jesus, be people who balance both – creating beautiful spaces for reconciliation and transformation in our world.

0 Comments

Grief and Hope: The Unexpected Companions of Easter

When God Dies: Embracing the Paradox of Faith

The Delicate Balance: Power vs. Humility on Maundy Thursday (Inspired by Guest Preacher Rev. Dr. Kathryn Campbell)

Finding God's Voice Amidst the Noise: A Palm Sunday Reflection

The Sacred Balance of Rest and Growth: Lessons from a Fig Tree

Lost and Found: The Outlandish Grace of God

Balancing Righteousness and Mercy: Lessons from a Wee Little Man

Rev. Stephen M. Fearing

Archives

Categories