Dreamer In Landscape, John Craxton
There are some religious texts that are beautiful. Others are historic. But then there are some that are just plain disturbing. They make you wrestle with them by the challenge they put forth. The challenge is easily dismissed upon first reading. We as humans tend to associate ourselves with the hero. Or the victim. But it is only rarely that we allow the text to penetrate our boundaries and sensibilities. We don't want it to be so, but it is so. Think about it. How often have the first lines of proclamation after Jesus' story of the rich young ruler been, "Now Jesus doesn't want us to give away half of what WE have. He's talking about whatever (ELSE) might be a barrier for you to serving God." Why the disclaimer in the sermon? Because we don't want our sacred scripture to challenge us THERE. Where it will absolutely hurt.
I'm gripped this evening by the parable of the Wedding Banquet in Matthew 22. I'm wrestling with it. At first glance, when a group of friends studied the passage this week, we saw ourselves as the King, I think. But the king isn't all that friendly throughout the whole thing. Then we realized that we were part invited guest, part afterthought guest, part servant, part inconsiderate guest. That's a much less comfortable place to be. Because we see then that the
parable is about choices, and choices are personal. Choices have consequences. Some choices earn us disdain. Others get us killed. A few may reap rewards. Some go unnoticed. Another gets us bound and thrown out where we thought we belonged all the time.
Part of me wants to tell my own story - a condensed version of the story of my life. I tell stories of my life all the time. But I leave out the details that don't read well. The Gospel writers told the stories of Jesus. They include the sordid details. Their stories offended because the subject of their stories was not out to keep everyone happy and unoffended. The subject, Jesus, told stories of a truth that brought freedom to the transparent and fear to the opaque.
I follow Jesus, or try to, I guess because for whatever reason he motivated a bunch of people to believe in him enough, to believe enough in what they saw of the kingdom of God that they suffered jail time and stoning for it. Paul told his own story - sordid details and all. The heights at which he lived, the sordid depths through which he trudged, the change that made all the difference. He told that story not so we would follow him, but so we would follow the one who sent him.
In 10 days I'll be telling another story - mostly my own. I wonder how transparent it will be. I hope it's worth the struggle. Jacob wrestled with the angel of God in the old testament. It got him into Genesis and got him a new name for he and his children. But the day before that struggle was the last day he ever walked without a limp.
I'm gripped this evening by the parable of the Wedding Banquet in Matthew 22. I'm wrestling with it. At first glance, when a group of friends studied the passage this week, we saw ourselves as the King, I think. But the king isn't all that friendly throughout the whole thing. Then we realized that we were part invited guest, part afterthought guest, part servant, part inconsiderate guest. That's a much less comfortable place to be. Because we see then that the
parable is about choices, and choices are personal. Choices have consequences. Some choices earn us disdain. Others get us killed. A few may reap rewards. Some go unnoticed. Another gets us bound and thrown out where we thought we belonged all the time.
Part of me wants to tell my own story - a condensed version of the story of my life. I tell stories of my life all the time. But I leave out the details that don't read well. The Gospel writers told the stories of Jesus. They include the sordid details. Their stories offended because the subject of their stories was not out to keep everyone happy and unoffended. The subject, Jesus, told stories of a truth that brought freedom to the transparent and fear to the opaque.
I follow Jesus, or try to, I guess because for whatever reason he motivated a bunch of people to believe in him enough, to believe enough in what they saw of the kingdom of God that they suffered jail time and stoning for it. Paul told his own story - sordid details and all. The heights at which he lived, the sordid depths through which he trudged, the change that made all the difference. He told that story not so we would follow him, but so we would follow the one who sent him.
In 10 days I'll be telling another story - mostly my own. I wonder how transparent it will be. I hope it's worth the struggle. Jacob wrestled with the angel of God in the old testament. It got him into Genesis and got him a new name for he and his children. But the day before that struggle was the last day he ever walked without a limp.
1 comment:
Interesting read. Profound last statement. Do I get a bonus for being the first to post?
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