elastic, fear, genesis, glory, moses, primorial, storm, terror, the scriptures, walking on water
In Jesus, archetype, chaos, disciple, discontinuity, imagine, margin on August 12, 2008 at 5:22 pm
There is a narrative whose presence in the Gospels leaves me feeling slightly off balance. Its like a splinter in my imagination…
6 times the story of Jesus and his followers out in a boat on wind blown waters at night appears in the gospels. In each telling some elements of the story remain the same – the disciples, a boat, the wind, their unbridled fear – yet the identity of Jesus is elastic and ambiguous !
In some instances Jesus is in the boat and in other instances he is out of the boat walking on the water. The disturbing thing is that when Jesus is in the boat up close and personal, those who know him best are left asking the question, “What sort of man is this ?” Out of the boat he appears at distance like some kind of ghost or phantasm and the disciples cry out in fear and terror. Neither option brings relief.
As the boat moves out onto the water, away from the crowd and the safety of the known, it is as though it slipped through a crack between the worlds. The disciples took Jesus out in the boat ‘as he was’ yet out on this margin Jesus expands and intensifies. In sleep his dreams evoke the restless, primordial, creative possibilities of Genesis – the storm like ‘a wind from God over the face of the waters’ – pregnant with change & newness. Likewise his prayer alone on the mountain evokes Moses and encounter with holy Otherness – the storm moving before him like ‘the voice of the Lord… over the waters… the God of Glory… thundering’ – powerfully declaring the One who walks on water.
John captures this ‘holy otherness’ when he tells the story. In his telling, Jesus doesn’t calm the storm. He instead reveals himself to them as ‘I am – do be afraid’ & when the disciples try to take him into the boat, they instantly arrive at the their destination. What happens in-between happens on Jesus’ terms. And Jesus will not be contained or domesticated.
demanding, glory, God, God's glory, gospel, hard hitting, holiness, integrity, jewish proverbs, john calvin, matthew, rabbi yehuda hanasi, religion, sermon on the mount, talmud, the scriptures
In Jesus, archetype, blessing, connection, disciple, discontinuity, imagine, judaism, kingdom of God, movement, the main thing, translation on July 6, 2008 at 2:00 pm
There’s an ancient Jewish proverb from the Talmud I have grown rather fond of. It goes like this, “Turn it over and turn it over again, for everything is contained in the Scriptures. Regard it, grow old in it and never abandon it, for there is no greater virtue.”
During the week I have been reading through the Sermon on the Mount in Matthew’s Gospel. I have been turning it over again and again, I feel have been regarding it to the point where it has grown rather old. Thankfully, I didn’t abandon it.
For me the Sermon on the Mount has been personally demanding reading. It has made me feel contrite & reflective about the quality of my discipleship; even the integrity of my walking with God.
You can’t read very far into the Sermon on the Mount without starting to feel the weight of God’s glory, the light of his holiness pouring into all the nooks and crannies of our mixed intentions… even filling the yawning gap that exists between our words and our actions.
Like John Calvin before me, I notice that these series of teachings read more like a dense compilation of many teaching sessions, rather than one singular occasion. There doesn’t seem to be that logical, sequential development of an argument that one would expect from a master teacher, delivering his message.
Instead each topic appears like its own particular teaching, concentrated & hard-hitting – complete in and of itself.
creative, dance, finger of God, glory, God, jewels, mundane, presence, psalms, rain, subtle, theology, vision
In blessing, connection, movement, the main thing, worldview on June 1, 2008 at 9:06 pm
The lite touch of God’s glory in the world is like the unexpected arrival of rain. Suddenly, leaves are dipping involuntarily in asymmetrical acknowledgement of its presence – a persistent shower giving lustre to the world & heightening awareness.
The Psalmist says that, “day after day pours forth speech and night after night declares knowledge… of the glory of God – yet there is no speech nor are there words…” While the lite touch of God’s glory is ever present, the sense of its arrival is always subtle. It builds in degrees, inhabiting the peripheral of vision or the graduated silences out on the edges of constant noise.
That our vision and hearing are dim to its arrival is witness to our routines of busyness and distraction.
That the activity of God’s glory in the world shapes our daily situation is beyond question. Glory lends intention to secret acts of mercy and kindness. Glory intensifies hope and endurance when the real is all too abrasive & unfriendly, Glory makes forgiveness the unthinkable possibility that dances in the midst of a hurting relationship At its most compelling the Glory of God ignites a passion for justice that burns & is vigilant, restless & creative.
When the dipping dance of the leaves ceases, the enduring effect of rained out rain is that cleansing wetness that soaks into every crack & crevice – absorbed into pores of everything it touches.
Drips hanging like jewels are the multitude of mundane moments touched by the finger of God.
abraham heschel, derrida, eternity, glory, God, hope, hospitality, mysterious, perspective, philosophy, pilgrim, psalm 22, remember, tension, terror, translation, truth, vandalism
In blessing, chaos, connection, inbetween, judaism, pathos, the main thing, translation, violence on May 23, 2008 at 12:11 pm
The Sabbath… Abraham Heschel calls it ‘God’s architecture in time’. The Sabbath creates the regular rhythm of a space in-between. This is the context where local, individual moments touch eternity. This is truth local & asymmetrical brought into proximity with truth unchanging & persistent. The habit of regularly entering into that space is the discipline of perspective. It a journey towards difference and holy otherness where the revealed and the mysterious are held in tension. Derrida says, “there is a duty to translate and not to translate, to understand, to enter into relation with another but at the same time preserve the otherness of the other”.
It’s interesting… truth local, pitted and asymmetrical is often overwhelmed by a seemingly wanton, unpredictable vortex of violence and dislocation. It is that sometimes intensified aspect of chaos where there is a mischief and a vandalism in its milder forms and terror & death at its most determined.
Tragedy is potential dissipated, opportunity lost, beauty erased in a vacuum untouched by meaning.
The result of truth tinged with violence, overwhelmed with chaos is theodicy. The affective response to the harshness of local truth is, “Where is God ?” or the cry of Psalm 22, “I am poured out like water and all my bones are out of joint, my heart is like wax, it has melted within my breast… my God, my God, why have you forsaken me ?”
The Sabbath reminds us that not all truth is local. For the sensitive ones who create the space, it is the possibility of continuing revelation. It is the reminder of the close proximity of God’s glorious presence in the fabric of time. The Glory of God lightly touches the world and for those who engage in the holy habit of attending, of offering hospitality to the presence of God, this translates truth local & unrelenting into glorious possibility & a future punctuated with hope.
Every instant is an act of creation. There is a pilgrim journey, a constant and continuous movement that is made possible by the Sabbath – a journey towards otherness and difference away from our man made structures. Those who take this journey find day after day they are sustained, inspired and led by a God who is undiminished by truth local, pitted and unpredictable. This is the God whose glory is most easily perceived in the chaos.
angry, anxiety, boat, compassion, dangerous, fisherman, glory, holy, imagination, noah, otherness, presence, preservation, restless, storm
In Jesus, chaos, compassion, inbetween, margin, mission on March 27, 2008 at 4:06 pm
We all live on margins of chaos. Like Noah floating on waters cocooned in his boat, we too create microcosms of order and pray to our Maker for preservation. To dwell on the edge for a while pushing outwards, encountering difference violently rams chaos back into our imagination – shocking, even paralysing creative, playful action.
When Peter stepped out of the boat it was two steps beyond the reason of a smart fisherman. It was an illogical step towards a dangerous Jesus who was filling that place with His glory & their boat with water. It was also a second step towards encountering Jesus on his terms. In that place a fisherman can walk on water. Yet we read that fear overtakes Peter. He ‘noticed the strong wind’ & was overwhelmed by a fisherman’s chaos. Suddenly Peter is the wily fish catcher being swallowed by an angry sea.
Jesus presence out on the lake expands & intensifies in the storm and though this movement is towards the Holy – towards otherness – he is never out of reach. The overwhelming compassion of Jesus is the redemptive action that restores equilibrium, brings back peace – calms the storm.
The patience of God & the opportunity of another chance…
How often am I limited by what I believe without question ? When newness & difference draws near, intensifying feeling to anxiety & fear, so often I retreat back into the safety of the known. During those times I am conservative & less perceptive. I hang on tightly to structure & boundaries until I fight chaos back to the margins.
The story of a leaky boat and BIG waters says there is a tension in being a Jesus follower. Beyond Rock and Redeemer – the safe and familiar Jesus is forever restless, intense & dangerously Holy. Sometimes he compels us to experience his Grandeur through all 5 senses with the volume turned right up – like a splinter in the imagination.
Six times this rather annoying narrative appears in the gospels. Each time Jesus rises up and the followers of Jesus retreat back. How many times must such story be told ? Seventy times seven ?
Until his disciples find courage to STAY & embrace missional action !
