Gospel for September 17, 2023

START WITH SCRIPTURE:
Matthew 18:21-35
CLICK HERE TO READ SCRIPTURE ON BIBLEGATEWAY.COM

OBSERVE:

It seems that Peter has been listening carefully to the teaching of Jesus.  In Matthew 18:15-20, Jesus has carefully outlined a procedure whereby conflict might be resolved within the community of faith.  Peter seems to make the connection between this teaching about methods of reconciliation and Jesus’ earlier teaching about forgiveness.

When Jesus taught the disciples about prayer in his Sermon on the Mount, forgiveness was so central that he reiterated the same point after teaching the prayer:

Forgive us our debts, as we also forgive our debtors…For if you forgive men their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you.  But if you don’t forgive men their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses (Matthew 5:12, 14-15).

So Peter’s question seems to be in the spirit of Jesus’ teaching.  He says:

Lord, how often shall my brother sin against me, and I forgive him? Until seven times?

No doubt, Peter’s expectation was that Jesus would praise him for his generosity, much as Jesus had praised him when Peter recognized Jesus as the Christ (Matthew 16:16-18).  The number seven is a significant number in the Hebrew world view, symbolizing completeness and perfection.  It would seem that Peter is suggesting a very patient, even “perfect” forbearance toward repeat offenders.

But Jesus’ attitude toward forgiveness is far more expansive — we might even say infinite — than Peter’s proposal.  In fact, Jesus’ answer suggests an exponential difference:

Jesus said to him, “I don’t tell you until seven times, but, until seventy times seven.

Once again, Jesus isn’t speaking literally, but symbolically.  If Peter was literal-minded (which might be likely), he may have been testing the limits of forgiveness.  Is seven times enough, he may have been asking.  But If we do the math, Jesus is suggesting the offender be forgiven four hundred ninety times. This is hardly a literal prescription for forgiveness.  Jesus is taking a number suggested by Peter, symbolizing perfection, and expanding it exponentially.  In other words, forgiveness never ends.

Jesus then employs one of his favored means of communication to illustrate his point about forgiveness — the parable.  He likens the Kingdom of Heaven to a king who calls in his debts.  One debtor owes the king ten thousand talents.  This is an astronomically high number.  Ten thousand talents is the equivalent of three hundred metric tons of silver.

Just for the sake of comparison — ten thousand talents is the equivalent to sixty million denarii, which was the coin of the time.  A denarius was the typical day’s wage for agricultural labor.  Today, the United States Department of Agriculture says that the average day laborers’ wages per hour is between $10.50 to $10.80 per hour.  Those wages would probably look pretty good to a day laborer in Jesus’ time.  A day’s labor in Jesus’ time wouldn’t be eight hours a day — it was sunrise to sunset.  So, if we assume that a normal day might be ten hours, perhaps we are talking about a worker earning $80 to $105 a day.  To cut to the chase, the servants debt might be the equivalent of at least four billion, eight hundred million dollars!  This is an astounding debt!  What on earth did this servant intend to do with that money?  And where did he spend it?!

In short, he just doesn’t have it.  And the consequences are dire — his entire family would pay the debt by being sold into slavery!

 But because he couldn’t pay, his lord commanded him to be sold, with his wife, his children, and all that he had, and payment to be made.

The servant’s response is to throw himself upon the mercy of the king.  He humbles himself and pleads for mercy.  This man who has squandered what amounts to billions of dollars is completely helpless.  He begs:

 The servant therefore fell down and knelt before him, saying, ‘Lord, have patience with me, and I will repay you all!’

Despite the huge debt, the king forgives the entire amount, without even requiring a repayment schedule:

 The lord of that servant, being moved with compassion, released him, and forgave him the debt.

We can only imagine the enormous relief, forgiven of such a huge debt.  And this makes the next events all the more shocking:

But that servant went out, and found one of his fellow servants, who owed him one hundred denarii,  and he grabbed him, and took him by the throat, saying, ‘Pay me what you owe!’ So his fellow servant fell down at his feet and begged him, saying, ‘Have patience with me, and I will repay you!’  He would not, but went and cast him into prison, until he should pay back that which was due.

This servant who has been forgiven a debt in the billions of dollars refuses to forgive a debt which amounts to perhaps $1,050.  This is not a tiny amount of money — but it wouldn’t buy a house today, or a new car.  Compared to the ten thousand talents, one hundred denarii is miniscule.  And yet this man, forgiven of a huge debt, cannot find compassion in his own heart to forgive a debtor who owes him much less.

The irony is staggering.  The hypocrisy is shocking.  And the king’s servants, who see this scenario unfold before their very eyes, could not remain silent.  They reported the servant’s behavior to their king.

The king’s moral outrage is palpable:

Then his lord called him in, and said to him, ‘You wicked servant! I forgave you all that debt, because you begged me. Shouldn’t you also have had mercy on your fellow servant, even as I had mercy on you?’

What is interesting is that the consequences for the servant’s hypocritical behavior differ from the king’s original judgment.  His family and property are not sold into slavery.  Instead, all of the consequences fall upon the servant:

 His lord was angry, and delivered him to the tormentors, until he should pay all that was due to him.

It would seem, as was the fashion in ancient times, that the servant was to suffer at the hands of professional torturers.  He was to pay, as it were, with a pound of flesh.

Lest we miss the point of the parable, Jesus makes it very clear:

 So my heavenly Father will also do to you, if you don’t each forgive your brother from your hearts for his misdeeds.

Those who have been forgiven are to forgive others.  Otherwise, they themselves will suffer the consequences of judgment.  A failure to forgive results in a failure to be forgiven.

APPLY:  

Like Peter, don’t we tend to want to measure our responses to grievances and wrongs?  How many times must we forgive, we ask, just like Peter.  Jesus’ answer is that forgiveness is unlimited.

The truth is that forgiveness is at the very heart of the Christian Gospel.  But there is no such thing as cheap grace when it comes to forgiveness.  Forgiveness is costly.

Where we begin is with the ultimate source of forgiveness.  According to Jesus’ parable, forgiveness is equated with something that most of us can understand — financial debt.  Jesus doesn’t single out particular sins.  He suggests that hurts, grievances, and wrongs are equivalent with a sense of indebtedness.

To whom do we owe not only our salvation, our abilities, and even our very existence?  The answer is simple — God himself.  That is who the king in Jesus’ parable represents.  And we all owe a debt to God that none of us can repay.

This debt, incurred by our birth, is increased by our lives that “draw” on God’s account.  And it is our sins — our moral failings, our squandered opportunities, our resentments, lusts, and little selfishnesses — that incur our debt to God.  And this is why Jesus, as the incarnate God on earth, exercises his authority to forgive these debts during his ministry and, finally, on the cross.  When he is crucified at the hands of sinful men, the sinless one says:

Father, forgive them, for they don’t know what they are doing (Luke 23:34).

And this forgiveness pivots toward our relationship with others.  Like the servant in the parable, when we have confessed our faith in Christ and asked his forgiveness, we have been forgiven a massive debt that we could never repay.

So, when it comes to hurts, grievances, and injuries that we have suffered from others — no matter how great — do we really imagine that they surpass the debt that we owe to God?  Again, we are like the servant in the parable.  We owe, in effect, billions of dollars to God.  There are people who are indebted to us, who have wronged us in some way — but in comparison, those debts are small.

And Jesus’ central teaching on forgiveness is sobering.  We not only pray it regularly, he stresses it:

For if you forgive men their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you.  But if you don’t forgive men their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses (Matthew 5:12, 14-15).

Again, Jesus’ parable is instructive.  When we have been forgiven so great a debt, what right have we not to forgive those in debt to us, especially when that debt is relatively small in comparison. It may be that God can’t forgive us when we refuse to forgive others because our hearts are too hard and too self-righteous to receive his forgiveness.

RESPOND: 

Years ago I learned a principle from the world of cognitive behavioral therapy that has spiritual applications.  It is called the emotional bank.

Here is the concept:  when we are in a relationship, we have a tendency to think that our acts of kindness — like helping out with the chores, or doing someone a favor — is a kind of emotional “deposit” into the emotional bank.  On the other hand, when we do something unkind or wrong, we are also making “withdrawals” from the emotional bank.  We accumulate “capital” by our good behavior, and we lose “emotional capital” by our bad behavior.  If we withdraw more than we deposit, we end up with an emotional deficit with our family, friends, or co-workers.

That may sound a little mercenary, as though it reduces a relationship to a mere transaction. But it’s also pretty honest.  Whether we like it or not, we do tend to think of our relationships as transactional.  We might try to be more noble, but the emotional bank is a handy benchmark.

The parable Jesus tells suggests a similar transactional concept.  The “debt” incurred by the servant is colossal compared to the “debt” he is owed by his fellow servant.  I’m reminded of something else Jesus says elsewhere:

with whatever judgment you judge, you will be judged; and with whatever measure you measure, it will be measured to you (Matthew 7:2).

The truth is, there is no transaction that we can make with God to receive his forgiveness.  His forgiveness and grace toward us are incredibly costly.  When we forgive, we are in a sense drawing on his “line of credit” of grace toward others.

Once, long ago, when General Oglethorpe of the English Colony in Georgia said, “I never forgive,” the Reverend Charles Wesley retorted:

Then I hope, Sir, that you never sin.

As the cliche says:

We owed a debt we could not pay; Christ paid a debt he did not owe.

Lord, I can never repay the debt I owe you.  But I can follow your example on a smaller scale and forgive those who sin against me.  Give me grace to do so.  Amen. 

PHOTOS:
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Epistle for September 17, 2023

START WITH SCRIPTURE:
Romans 14:1-12
CLICK HERE TO READ SCRIPTURE ON BIBLEGATEWAY.COM

OBSERVE:

We can easily forget just how radical this new religion of Christianity was.  True, it was predicated on the prophecies and principles of the Jewish faith.  But it was a sharp departure from the legalism that had come to characterize the Pharisaical expression of Judaism.

Paul addresses some of the trickier aspects of Christian culture that will require some nuance — food and festivals.  For contemporary Christians, these concerns may seem quaint, but for Paul’s time they were of extreme importance.

First of all, he makes it clear that food and festivals are not critical to Christian identity.  And he also makes it clear that the church is not a place to wrangle about such issues:

Now accept one who is weak in faith, but not for disputes over opinions.

This is a reassuring word.  The church is not given boundaries that keep out those who are weak in faith.  The church is to be a place where they can receive sound instruction and grow in faith.  However, the church is also not meant to be a debating society.  There are some things that are clearly revealed as true, that are not disputable within the church.  And there are some things that are matters of opinion and personal practice — what some might call adiaphora, which is defined as “matters not regarded as essential to faith, but nevertheless permissible for Christians or allowed in church.”

Some of these adiaphora include what Christians choose to eat, and what special times they observe.  Paul makes it very clear from the very beginning that dietary laws are not central to the Christian faith.  This is radical for a Jew who has been steeped in the Pharisaical tradition.  The dietary laws of Leviticus were of such importance that they had spawned a cottage industry of commentary in the Oral Laws of the Pharisees — concerning pork, shellfish, blood, lobsters, rabbits, etc.  These Oral Laws had come to be regarded as almost equal to the Written Law, but were actually the traditions and interpretations that had been passed down since the exile of Israel in the 6th century B.C.

Paul makes it clear that what a person chooses to eat or not eat is a matter of personal conscience, not religious legislation.  Peter had already broken this ground when God called him to cross the line separating Jews and Gentiles.  When the Centurion Cornelius invited Peter to come to his home and preach, Peter had experienced a vision preceding this invitation:

He saw heaven opened and a certain container descending to him, like a great sheet let down by four corners on the earth, in which were all kinds of four-footed animals of the earth, wild animals, reptiles, and birds of the sky.  A voice came to him, “Rise, Peter, kill and eat!” But Peter said, “Not so, Lord; for I have never eaten anything that is common or unclean.”   A voice came to him again the second time, “What God has cleansed, you must not call unclean” (Acts 10:11-15).

This vision seemed to have a dual purpose.  On the one hand, symbolically, God was telling Peter that Gentiles were to be included in the church.  But on the other hand, Peter was being told that the prohibited foods were no longer forbidden.  They had been a part of Israel’s cultural identity, but Christianity transcends cultural and ethnic identity issues.

So Paul’s Solomonic wisdom on this issue is that each person must decide in their own mind what is appropriate to eat.  The one thing that he insists on is that whatever a person chooses to eat, as dictated by their own conscience, should not be a matter of division or a source of disapproval:

 One man has faith to eat all things, but he who is weak eats only vegetables.  Don’t let him who eats despise him who doesn’t eat. Don’t let him who doesn’t eat judge him who eats, for God has accepted him.

In a word, church members are not to judge one another based on diet.  Their only judge is God:

Who are you who judge another’s servant? To his own lord he stands or falls. Yes, he will be made to stand, for God has power to make him stand.

Paul then turns to festival days and sabbaths.  The same rule applies:

One man esteems one day as more important. Another esteems every day alike. Let each man be fully assured in his own mind.  He who observes the day, observes it to the Lord; and he who does not observe the day, to the Lord he does not observe it. He who eats, eats to the Lord, for he gives God thanks. He who doesn’t eat, to the Lord he doesn’t eat, and gives God thanks.

The sabbath observation in Judaism, and the three major feasts (Passover, Pentecost, and Tabernacles) were central to the identity of Judaism, along with other minor festivals. Paul is not denying the importance of corporate worship in the church.  He assumes that Christians meet together on the first day of the week (1 Corinthians 11:18-26; 16:2).

But he is also insistent that the ritual system of sacrifices has been superseded.  Certainly, the Gentile is not bound by these Jewish rituals, although we have really good evidence that Paul himself continued to observe them as a Jewish Christian.  For example, when he was returning from his missionary journey from Macedonia and Greece, he was eager to arrive back in Jerusalem in time for Pentecost (Acts 20:16).  It may well be that Pentecost had assumed a dual purpose, as both a Jewish feast day and a Christian commemoration of the coming of the Holy Spirit.

The bottom line for Paul, though, is the importance of the Christian community established by unity in Christ:

For none of us lives to himself, and none dies to himself.  For if we live, we live to the Lord. Or if we die, we die to the Lord. If therefore we live or die, we are the Lord’s.  For to this end Christ died, rose, and lived again, that he might be Lord of both the dead and the living.

What a person eats, or doesn’t eat; or whether they observe all the same holy days, is not relevant.  What is relevant is that they belong to the same Lord, who paid for their salvation with his blood.  The mark of identity in this new community of faith is following Christ — not kosher foods or high holy days.

The bottom line is that every person will be held accountable for their actions and their own conscience before God.  It is not up to individual members to judge one another:

 But you, why do you judge your brother? Or you again, why do you despise your brother? For we will all stand before the judgment seat of Christ.

Lest we draw the conclusion that Paul has renounced his Jewish heritage, he quotes the Hebrew Scriptures, from Isaiah 45:23:

 For it is written, “‘As I live,’ says the Lord, ‘to me every knee will bow. Every tongue will confess to God.’”

Ultimately, every person will be judged according to their own relationship with God, not according to human custom or tradition:

 So then each one of us will give account of himself to God.

APPLY:  

There are a few old cliches that may describe the issue Paul addresses: “don’t major in the minors” and “don’t sweat the small stuff.”

Paul is advising the church in Rome that a person’s diet doesn’t define their faith, nor does their observance of special days.  What defines their faith is their relationship with Christ and his church:

For none of us lives to himself, and none dies to himself.  For if we live, we live to the Lord. Or if we die, we die to the Lord. If therefore we live or die, we are the Lord’s.  For to this end Christ died, rose, and lived again, that he might be Lord of both the dead and the living.

One thing we are not to do is judge someone based on their dietary habits or whether they fast, or how they observe the liturgical calendar.  Fasting, for example, is a spiritual discipline that is encouraged in both the Old and New Testaments.  But the person who fasts is not superior to the person who doesn’t. That is a personal decision.  If it enhances our relationship with God, it is commendable.  But if a person chooses not to do so, that is between themselves and God.

To take the cliches a little farther — as someone has said: “Don’t sweat the small stuff — and it’s all small stuff.”  One person fasts, another doesn’t.  One person eschews meat, another eats it.  That is not an “essential” matter for salvation.

RESPOND: 

Paul’s counsel is ultimately directed toward individual accountability on personal lifestyle issues.  That doesn’t mean that these lifestyle decisions don’t matter.  Fasting is encouraged in the Christian tradition as a means of enhancing our prayer life and reminding us of our dependence on God.  Too much meat, though permissible, does have health consequences — and a vegetarian diet can be of great benefit.

But what we often see, especially in our time, is a kind of moral superiority even among those who are non-religious.  The vegetarian may condescend to the person who orders a hamburger at dinner.  There are Christian denominations that absolutely prohibit meat, alcohol, tobacco, caffeine.  The use of these substances may be debated, and some of them are absolutely of no benefit to the body, but it can’t be demonstrated from Scripture that they separate a person from God.  Gluttony and drunkenness are regarded as sins —but those are sins of excess and a lack of self-control. We don’t stop eating simply because of the risk of overeating.  Anything that we crave, or to which we become addicted, can become our god — and that can separate us from our primary loyalty to God.

And then there is the warning about time.  I tend to like the observance of the liturgical year as observed in my own church — Advent, Christmas, Epiphany, Lent, Easter, Pentecost.  And all the “holy days”: Christmas Eve, Epiphany Day, Baptism of the Lord, Transfiguration Sunday, Ash Wednesday, Holy Week (including Palm Sunday, Maundy Thursday, Good Friday), Easter Sunday, The Day of Ascension, Pentecost Sunday, All Saints Day, Christ the King Sunday.  And I will admit, that when I’m in a church that doesn’t display the “correct” colors for the proper season, it bothers me a little.  Then I have to remember this passage from Romans 14.

At the same time, those from a non-liturgical background should be reminded that they are not to judge traditionalists.  Paraments and special days and unique traditions (I think of the beautiful icons in Orthodox churches) don’t save anyone.  But as long as those traditions are an enhancement to worship and not the object of worship, the non-liturgical Christian should have no objection.

The bottom line is clear — Christ doesn’t have a “special menu” that every Christian is supposed to choose. Nor does he demand that we all observe the liturgical year.  What ultimately matters is that we live to the Lord.

Lord, I do find that when I fast, it makes me more aware of you. And there are special times of the year that raise my awareness of your story.  But I don’t seek to impose those practices on others.  Help me to live my life by precept and example so that others see you at work in my life, and are drawn to you by my lifestyle.  Amen. 

 PHOTOS:
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Psalter Reading for September 17, 2023

“I will sing to Yahweh, for he has triumphed gloriously.
The horse and his rider he has thrown into the sea.
…He has cast Pharaoh’s chariots and his army into the sea.
His chosen captains are sunk in the Red Sea.”   [Exodus 15:1, 4 (World English Bible)]

A NOTE FROM CELESTE LETCHWORTH:

As most of you know, Tom went to be with the Lord in June 2018.

Since the lectionary cycles every 3 years, I am able to copy Tom’s SOAR studies from the archives and post them each week with our current year’s dates.

However, I can’t find any SOAR for this Sunday’s Psalm selection (which is Psalm 114).  I couldn’t figure out just why Tom used Exodus 15:1b-11, 20-21 instead. Then I found the answer — In the past, the United Methodist lectionary always listed Exodus 15:1b-11, 20-21 as the Psalter reading for the 15th Sunday after Pentecost (Proper 19).

BTW: A responsive reading for Exodus 15:1b-11, 20-21 is number 135 in the United Methodist Hymnal.

So, the bad news is that I can’t find anything in the archives that Tom wrote for Psalm 114.

But the good news is that I found his SOAR posting for Exodus 15:1b-11, 20-21, which has been used in the past as the Psalter reading for this Sunday. (Well, at least in past United Methodist program calendars for Year A.)

So I hope you’ll enjoy studying Exodus 15:1b-11, 20-21 as the psalter selection this week.

You’re on your own for Psalm 114, but I think you’ll enjoy reading it as well. It’s just 8 verses. And it also describes God’s deliverance of Israel from Egypt. It is part of the Hallel, which is recited and/or sung at as part of the Passover Seder. Here is a link to more info on the Hallel:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hallel

I found it quite interesting that, because it is part of the Hallel, this psalm was probably sung by Jesus and his disciples after the Last Supper. (Matthew 26:30).

And now… Tom’s SOAR study on Exodus 15:1b-11, 20-21:

START WITH SCRIPTURE:
Exodus 15:1b-11, 20-21
CLICK HERE TO READ SCRIPTURE ON BIBLEGATEWAY.COM

OBSERVE:

This passage is a battle hymn.  This is a song of praise and thanksgiving for the God of salvation.  And this God of salvation is a God of war.

In vivid, lyrical verses, this song of Moses describes the triumph of Yahweh over Egypt:

I will sing to Yahweh, for he has triumphed gloriously.
The horse and his rider he has thrown into the sea.

This is the thesis statement of the entire song.  The God who led Moses to Pharaoh has become the salvation of Israel.  And Israel is clearly aware that this is the same God who made covenant with Abraham and the patriarchs, and led them to Canaan: 

This is my God, and I will praise him;
my father’s God, and I will exalt him.

The song makes clear that God is not neutral or impotent in any way:

Yahweh is a man of war.
Yahweh is his name.

This is illustrated by the poetic description of Yahweh’s actions: 

He has cast Pharaoh’s chariots and his army into the sea.
His chosen captains are sunk in the Red Sea.
The deeps cover them.
They went down into the depths like a stone.
Your right hand, Yahweh, is glorious in power.
Your right hand, Yahweh, dashes the enemy in pieces.
In the greatness of your excellency, you overthrow those who rise up against you.
You send out your wrath. It consumes them as stubble.
With the blast of your nostrils, the waters were piled up.
The floods stood upright as a heap.
The deeps were congealed in the heart of the sea.

The poet of this war-song also provides insight into the mind-set and motives of the Egyptians as they pursue Israel: 

The enemy said, ‘I will pursue. I will overtake. I will divide the plunder.
My desire shall be satisfied on them.
I will draw my sword, my hand shall destroy them.’

We are reminded of a song that will be sung by Deborah and Barak in the era of the Judges, about one hundred years after the Exodus.  They are singing about the triumph of Israel over the Canaanites.  In a particularly insightful passage, the song imagines the high expectations of the mother of Sisera, the Canaanite general — that he would come home triumphant.

Through the window she looked out, and cried:
Sisera’s mother looked through the lattice.
‘Why is his chariot so long in coming?
Why do the wheels of his chariots wait?’
 Her wise ladies answered her,
Yes, she returned answer to herself,
 ‘Have they not found, have they not divided the plunder?
A lady, two ladies to every man;
to Sisera a plunder of dyed garments,
a plunder of dyed garments embroidered,
of dyed garments embroidered on both sides, on the necks of the plunder?’ (Judges 5:28-30).

In fact, Sisera was slain at the hand of a woman, and the Canaanite army also scattered, perhaps as the result of earthquake and flood — not unlike the result for the Egyptians in Exodus (cf Judges 5:4-5).

The Egyptian overconfidence that victory is already a foregone conclusion is a stark contrast to the result.  The song once again addresses God:  

You blew with your wind.
The sea covered them.
They sank like lead in the mighty waters.

In this Song of Moses, there is no doubt that Yahweh’s triumph is a theological and spiritual victory over the gods of Egypt.  He is powerful, and he uses his power to intervene on behalf of the powerless:

Who is like you, Yahweh, among the gods?
Who is like you, glorious in holiness,
fearful in praises, doing wonders?

Finally, our lectionary passage concludes by reminding us of the central role of women in the Biblical story.  They join in with the Song of Moses as a kind of chorus, led by Miriam the sister of Moses:

Miriam the prophetess, the sister of Aaron, took a tambourine in her hand; and all the women went out after her with tambourines and with dances.  Miriam answered them,
“Sing to Yahweh, for he has triumphed gloriously.
The horse and his rider he has thrown into the sea.”

APPLY:  

Our modern sensibilities may not be comfortable with all of the sentiments expressed here — victory over one’s enemies, that God is a God of war.  That may be because most of us have the convenience of not having experienced war.  But the Song of Moses is a reminder that this is a moral universe, and that there is a conflict between good and evil.

And as Martin Luther’s powerful hymn, A Mighty Fortress Is Our God, says it:

Did we in our own strength confide, our striving would be losing;
Were not the right Man on our side, the Man of God’s own choosing:
Dost ask who that may be? Christ Jesus, it is He;
Lord Sabaoth, His Name, from age to age the same,
And He must win the battle.

There is an ancient debate in Christianity between pacifism and just war theory.  Some heroic Christians, like the Quakers, the Mennonites, the Church of the Brethren, have taken a clear anti-war position, and at times suffered for that stand.  But there are many Christians since Augustine who have argued that there are times when war, though terrible, may be the only recourse in order to prevent a greater evil.

One clear modern example is World War II.  What Christian wishes to imagine a world in which the Axis powers, led by racial supremacists and fascists, won that war?  The effects would have been even more horrific than the war itself, based on what we know of the Holocaust and other atrocities.

God’s triumph over Egypt was theological and spiritual, yes.  But it was also simply a dramatic victory of good over evil — an Egyptian regime that had countenanced infanticide of Hebrew male children and the enslavement of the Hebrew people under increasingly brutal conditions.  It may be argued that the ever-increasing intensity of the plagues were an effort to get the attention of the Pharaoh — and the only weapon that Pharaoh finally understood was raw, naked power.  There are times that God must be a man of war, and when even Christians may consider that war is the only alternative to a greater evil.

[I am very aware of the debate concerning Pharaoh’s state of mind as the plagues gradually increase in intensity. At first, it seems, Pharaoh hardens his own heart in resistance to Moses’ pleas to free Israel (Exodus 7:13, 22; 8:15, 19, 32; 9:34, 35).  But as the struggle intensifies, Yahweh is described as hardening Pharaoh’s heart (Exodus 9:12; 10:1, 20, 27; 11:10; 14:8).  This is a complex issue.  Nothing happens without God’s permission, and yet God permits us to choose the good or the evil.  He grants us free will.  I personally believe that God allows Pharaoh to harden his own heart — and as it becomes apparent that Pharaoh merely wants to “negotiate” a compromise with Moses and his God, it becomes clear that God must decisively defeat Pharaoh and his gods.]

RESPOND: 

There are battle hymns that celebrate human victory, and there are battle hymns that celebrate God’s victory effected through human agents.

One of my favorite battle hymns is a 15th century hymn celebrating Henry V’s victory over the French at Agincourt on St. Crispin’s Day, October 25, 1415. Here it is, translated from the Middle English dialect.

Our king went forth to Normandy,
With grace and might of chivalry;
Then God for him wrought marvelously,
Wherefore England may call, and cry

Chorus:
Deo gratias
Deo gratias
Anglia redde pro victoria.

(Translation of the Latin: Give thanks to God, England, for the victory).

The French might debate whether or not God was responsible for England’s victory.

Another great Battle Hymn celebrates a more defensible cause — preserving the Union and ending slavery — written by Julia Ward Howe in November 1861, near the beginning of the American Civil War:

Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord;
He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored;
He hath loosed the fateful lightning of His terrible swift sword;
His truth is marching on.
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah! Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah! His truth is marching on.

However, even this majestic hymn can be controversial.  One Sunday morning many years ago I included this hymn as part of the worship service in my church — and a young man who was also a member of the Sons of Confederate Veterans walked out of the church!  He did return after the song was over.

As a direct descendant of a Confederate veteran myself, I didn’t find much sympathy with my young friend.  Although I can appreciate the ambiguities and nuances of the Confederate cause and the courage of the Confederate soldier, I can unequivocally say that I am personally glad that the Union was preserved and the abhorrent institution of slavery was abolished.

In so many cases, we don’t know until long afterwards whether a war really was just or not.  In the United States, we are still debating the Vietnam War and Operation Iraqi Freedom.

War will always be an ambiguous affair. And so should it be.  A famous quote attributed to George Orwell is sobering:

people sleep peacefully in their beds at night only because rough men stand ready to do violence on their behalf.

But we as believers must stake our security on different grounds.  We can sleep peacefully at night because of a God who is willing to act on behalf of justice and mercy.  As the Psalmist says it:

He who keeps you will not slumber.
 Behold, he who keeps Israel
will neither slumber nor sleep (Psalm 121:3-4).

Our Lord, we count on your deliverance from evil because we can’t deliver ourselves.  We cling to the promise that you will fight for us.  Amen. 

PHOTOS:

"Pharaoh's army engulfed by the Red Sea" oil on canvas, by Frederick Arthur Bridgman (1900) is in the Public Domain.

Old Testament for September 17, 2023

START WITH SCRIPTURE:
Exodus 14:19-31
CLICK HERE TO READ SCRIPTURE ON BIBLEGATEWAY.COM

OBSERVE:

Our Old Testament lectionary reading for this week is one of the pivotal passages of the Hebrew Bible — if not the entire Bible!  This account of the parting of the Red Sea is to the story of Israel what the resurrection of Jesus is to the Christian church.

Appropriately, this selection begins not with Moses or the children of Israel, but with God:

The angel of God, who went before the camp of Israel, moved and went behind them; and the pillar of cloud moved from before them, and stood behind them.

Some interpreters believe that the angel of God (angel means messenger) is a euphemism for God himself.  Still others suggest that the angel of God is the second person of the Trinity manifest in the Old Testament prior to the incarnation of Jesus.

In any event, the angel of God manifests himself as the pillar of cloud and fire.  We recall that when God revealed his identity and gave the mission to Moses, he was manifest in the bush that burned and was not consumed (Exodus 3:2-4).  It might be said that the pillar of cloud and fire are the burning bush writ larger, on a bigger scale.

In this instance, the pillar assumes a position of defense, between the Israelites who are fleeing from Egypt, and the full military might of the Egyptians, with chariots and army in hot pursuit.  A few words of background are in order.  The ten plagues of Egypt have culminated in the widespread death of all of the firstborn of Egyptian families — from the Pharaoh’s firstborn to the captive in prison — as well as their livestock (Exodus 12:29).  The Israelites, hunkered down in their homes, with lamb’s blood on the doorposts and lintels of their houses, celebrated the first Passover meal, and their firstborn were all spared (Exodus 12:21-27).

Pharaoh, who had grown increasingly angry with Moses with each turn of the screw of the plagues, had finally had enough.  The scale of death had finally come home to him with the death of his own child. Not a single household in Egypt was untouched.   He sent the Israelites away — Exodus tells us that there were six hundred thousand men on foot, not counting women and children.  The Egyptians, perhaps as a means of atoning for the enslavement of the Hebrews, loaded the Israelites with gold, silver, jewels and clothing (Exodus 12:35-36).  Or perhaps they were afraid of refusing these slaves whose God had shown such immense power.

And yet again, Pharaoh’s heart was hardened, and he resolved to pursue and destroy the Israelites.  Despite their numbers, the Israelites were relatively defenseless — and Egypt was the great superpower of their day.  There would be no contest.  So Pharaoh must have thought.

But as the chariots and the army approached the Israelites, the pillar of cloud, which became a pillar of fire by night, interposed itself between the military and the Israelites.  God himself had become the fortress for Israel!

Meanwhile, Moses obeyed Yahweh’s command:

Moses stretched out his hand over the sea, and Yahweh caused the sea to go back by a strong east wind all night, and made the sea dry land, and the waters were divided. The children of Israel went into the middle of the sea on the dry ground, and the waters were a wall to them on their right hand, and on their left.

Once again, Yahweh demonstrated his almighty power over the forces of nature.  The choice of words is interesting.  The waters were divided.  This is the same language used in creation, when God divided elements from one another to create differentiation.  In Genesis 1, God divided light from darkness (v. 4), and waters from the expanse of the sky (v. 7).  God also gathers the waters into the seas so the dry land can emerge (v.9-10).  The same power over nature that was present at creation is now present in the deliverance of Israel.

Israel escapes on dry land through this corridor of water all night long. Apparently, Yahweh permits the Egyptians to pursue — to their destruction:

The Egyptians pursued, and went in after them into the middle of the sea: all of Pharaoh’s horses, his chariots, and his horsemen.  In the morning watch, Yahweh looked out on the Egyptian army through the pillar of fire and of cloud, and confused the Egyptian army.  He took off their chariot wheels, and they drove them heavily; so that the Egyptians said, “Let’s flee from the face of Israel, for Yahweh fights for them against the Egyptians!”

The Egyptians realized — too late — that Yahweh was fighting for Israel.  They were up against an invincible foe.  Sadly, the war had been waged through the ten plagues, and Pharaoh still hadn’t grasped the reality — Yahweh is God, and the Egyptian gods and goddesses are powerless and phony.

But it is too late for the Egyptians to escape.  Yahweh instructed Moses to stretch out his hand over the sea, and it closed over the Egyptian chariots and horsemen, drowning Pharaoh’s army completely.  The bodies of the Egyptians were washed up on the shore, where the people of Israel saw that their formidable adversaries were no longer any threat.

This event becomes a pillar of faith in the salvation history for the people of Israel. The Israelites confess their own faith in God and his prophet.

Israel saw the great work which Yahweh did to the Egyptians, and the people feared Yahweh; and they believed in Yahweh, and in his servant Moses.

APPLY:  

One of the most profound passages in the account of Israel crossing the Red Sea is not included in our Scripture passage from this week, although it is in the same chapter.  When the Israelites see the dust from the Egyptian chariots and army in hot pursuit, drawing closer and closer, they cry out in terror.  They fear they have been led to the edge of the Red Sea, trapped in order to be massacred.  They bitterly complain to Moses that he has misled them.  And he answers boldly:

Don’t be afraid. Stand still, and see the salvation of Yahweh, which he will work for you today: for the Egyptians whom you have seen today, you shall never see them again. Yahweh will fight for you, and you shall be still (Exodus 14:13-14).

Evidently, though, Moses must have confided his own fears to God, for Yahweh says to him:

Why do you cry to me? Speak to the children of Israel, that they go forward.  Lift up your rod, and stretch out your hand over the sea, and divide it: and the children of Israel shall go into the middle of the sea on dry ground (Exodus 14:15-16).

There are at least four key applications of this passage to our lives as Christians and to the church:

• First, God is the one who takes the initiative in delivering us. We don’t take the first step with God — we are always responding.  Moses turns aside to see the burning bush because God is drawing him.  And God is the one who takes the initiative in leading the Israelites and protecting them with the pillar of cloud and the pillar of fire.
• Second, Yahweh’s uniqueness is demonstrated in his power over the greatest superpower of that time, and in his total victory over the Egyptian gods and goddesses. This uniqueness will be underscored in the Ten Commandments that will be revealed on Sinai:
  You shall have no other gods before me (Exodus 20:3).
  There are no powers greater than God’s, certainly not those gods that we tend to worship today — political, military, technological, financial, or otherwise.
• Third, we are reminded that our proper response to God’s commands is to obey, even when such obedience seems counter-intuitive. The command to cross over the Red Sea between two walls of water must have seemed insane to the Israelites.  The commands we receive to give, to serve, to turn the other cheek when insulted, to forgive, even to love our enemies, seem insane to us — until we obey and find the grace that Christ promises.
• Fourth, events like this mighty deliverance, and the resurrection of Jesus, become central to our own confession of faith. We believe, not because we have figured out all the answers, but because God has acted in history, and the witnesses who were there assure us that God is mightier than the gods and goddesses of this earth; and he is mightier than sin, death and the devil.

RESPOND: 

When I was a teenager living in Southern California I went to Universal Studios with some friends.  One of the rides that was touted then was the “Parting of the Red Sea,” which was really nothing more than two gates that pushed back the water so the trolley could drive through.  Needless to say, I was unimpressed.

The parting of the Red Sea was no gimmick or magic trick.  God’s power was demonstrated in order to save his people from certain destruction.

Is there a difference between the dramatic miracle at the Red Sea and some of the more dramatic human responses to catastrophe?  Take for example when the British Expeditionary Force was trapped by the German army at Dunkirk in May, 1940.  Like the Israelites, the BEF and their French compatriots had been driven into a seemingly untenable position — between a mighty enemy and an impassible body of water (in this case, the English Channel). There were not enough British Naval vessels to rescue them.  But thousands of British civilians rose to the occasion, and came to the rescue in yachts, fishing boats, skiffs and dinghies.  From May 26 to June 10, about 330,000 British, French and Belgian troops were rescued.

This is an inspiring story, and one might even say that many of the British civilians rose to the occasion because of their faith in God.  But it is not quite like the “rescue” of the Israelites in which they were simply invited to:

Stand still, and see the salvation of Yahweh (Exodus 14:13).

There is, however, a degree of synergism required, even here.  Synergism means that there is a cooperation necessary in our deliverance.  We are of course saved by grace, but we respond with faith and obedience.

Frederick Douglass, the eloquent former slave who advocated for abolition during the American Civil War, is widely quoted as saying:

I prayed for freedom for twenty years, but received no answer until I prayed with my legs.

And isn’t that what happens at the Red Sea?  God takes the initiative — he protects Israel with the pillar of fire/pillar of cloud from the advance of Egyptian military power. And he opens the way through the Red Sea for Israel’s escape.  However, there was a response required of Israel.  They had to believe and obey, and walk between those walls of water on either side. They could have simply sat down and said, “No way I’m walking out there!  That water could collapse at any moment, and I can’t swim!”

God offers free grace, and invites us to walk through the corridors of grace.  But we must — as the old hymn says it:

Trust and obey
For there’s no other way
To be happy in Jesus
But to trust and obey (John H. Sammis, 1846-1919).

Lord, your mighty hand has parted the Red Sea, and raised your Son from the dead.  There is nothing you cannot do.  Help me to be secure in your protective “pillar of fire and cloud” and trust you and obey you.  Amen.

PHOTOS:
“parting the red sea” by amboo who? is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 2.0 Generic license.

Gospel for September 17, 2017

START WITH SCRIPTURE:

Matthew 18:21-35

CLICK HERE TO READ SCRIPTURE ON BIBLEGATEWAY.COM

OBSERVE:

It seems that Peter has been listening carefully to the teaching of Jesus.  In Matthew 18:15-20, Jesus has carefully outlined a procedure whereby conflict might be resolved within the community of faith.  Peter seems to make the connection between this teaching about methods of reconciliation and Jesus’ earlier teaching about forgiveness.

When Jesus taught the disciples about prayer in his Sermon on the Mount, forgiveness was so central that he reiterated the same point after teaching the prayer:

Forgive us our debts, as we also forgive our debtors…. For if you forgive men their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you.  But if you don’t forgive men their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses (Matthew 5:12, 14-15).

So Peter’s question seems to be in the spirit of Jesus’ teaching.  He says:

Lord, how often shall my brother sin against me, and I forgive him? Until seven times?

No doubt, Peter’s expectation was that Jesus would praise him for his generosity, much as Jesus had praised him when Peter recognized Jesus as the Christ (Matthew 16:16-18).  The number seven is a significant number in the Hebrew world view, symbolizing completeness and perfection.  It would seem that Peter is suggesting a very patient, even “perfect” forbearance toward repeat offenders.

But Jesus’ attitude toward forgiveness is far more expansive — we might even say infinite — than Peter’s proposal.  In fact, Jesus’ answer suggests an exponential difference:

Jesus said to him, “I don’t tell you until seven times, but, until seventy times seven.

Once again, Jesus isn’t speaking literally, but symbolically.  If Peter was literal-minded (which might be likely), he may have been testing the limits of forgiveness.  Is seven times enough, he may have been asking.  But If we do the math, Jesus is suggesting the offender be forgiven four hundred ninety times. This is hardly a literal prescription for forgiveness.  Jesus is taking a number suggested by Peter, symbolizing perfection, and expanding it exponentially.  In other words, forgiveness never ends.

Jesus then employs one of his favored means of communication to illustrate his point about forgiveness — the parable.  He likens the Kingdom of Heaven  to a king who calls in his debts.  One debtor owes the king ten thousand talents.  This is an astronomically high number.  Ten thousand talents is the equivalent of three hundred metric tons of silver.

Just for the sake of comparison — ten thousand talents is the equivalent to sixty million denarii, which was the coin of the time.  A denarius was the typical day’s wage for agricultural labor.  Today, the United States Department of Agriculture says that the average day laborers’ wages per hour is between $10.50 to $10.80 per hour.  Those wages would probably look pretty good to a day laborer in Jesus’ time.  A day’s labor in Jesus’ time wouldn’t be eight hours a day — it was sunrise to sunset.  So, if we assume that a normal day might be ten hours, perhaps we are talking about a worker earning $80 to $105 a day.  To cut to the chase, the servants debt might be the equivalent of at least four billion, eight hundred million dollars!  This is an astounding debt!  What on earth did this servant intend to do with that money?  And where did he spend it ?!

In short, he just doesn’t have it.  And the consequences are dire — his entire family would pay the debt by being sold into slavery!

 But because he couldn’t pay, his lord commanded him to be sold, with his wife, his children, and all that he had, and payment to be made.

The servant’s response is to throw himself upon the mercy of the king.  He humbles himself and pleads for mercy.  This man who has squandered what amounts to billions of dollars is completely helpless.  He begs:

 The servant therefore fell down and knelt before him, saying, ‘Lord, have patience with me, and I will repay you all!’

Despite the huge debt, the king forgives the entire amount, without even requiring a repayment schedule:

 The lord of that servant, being moved with compassion, released him, and forgave him the debt.

We can only imagine the enormous relief, forgiven of such a huge debt.  And this makes the next events all the more shocking:

But that servant went out, and found one of his fellow servants, who owed him one hundred denarii,  and he grabbed him, and took him by the throat, saying, ‘Pay me what you owe!’ So his fellow servant fell down at his feet and begged him, saying, ‘Have patience with me, and I will repay you!’  He would not, but went and cast him into prison, until he should pay back that which was due.

This servant who has been forgiven a debt in the billions of dollars refuses to forgive a debt which amounts to perhaps $1,050.  This is not a tiny amount of money — but it wouldn’t buy a house today, or a new car.  Compared to the ten thousand talents, one hundred denarii is miniscule.  And yet this man, forgiven of a huge debt, cannot find compassion in his own heart to forgive a debtor who owes him much less.

The irony is staggering.  The hypocrisy is shocking.  And the king’s servants, who see this scenario unfold before their very eyes, could not remain silent.  They reported the servant’s behavior to their king.

The king’s moral outrage is palpable:

Then his lord called him in, and said to him, ‘You wicked servant! I forgave you all that debt, because you begged me. Shouldn’t you also have had mercy on your fellow servant, even as I had mercy on you?’

What is interesting is that the consequences for the servant’s hypocritical behavior differ from the king’s original judgment.  His family and property are not sold into slavery.  Instead, all of the consequences fall upon the servant:

 His lord was angry, and delivered him to the tormentors, until he should pay all that was due to him.

It would seem, as was the fashion in ancient times, that the servant was to suffer at the hands of professional torturers.  He was to pay, as it were, with a pound of flesh.

Lest we miss the point of the parable, Jesus makes it very clear:

 So my heavenly Father will also do to you, if you don’t each forgive your brother from your hearts for his misdeeds.

Those who have been forgiven are to forgive others.  Otherwise, they themselves will suffer the consequences of judgment.  A failure to forgive results in a failure to be forgiven.

APPLY:  

Like Peter, don’t we tend to want to measure our responses to grievances and wrongs?  How many times must we forgive, we ask, just like Peter.  Jesus’ answer is that forgiveness is unlimited.

The truth is that forgiveness is at the very heart of the Christian Gospel.  But there is no such thing as cheap grace when it comes to forgiveness.  Forgiveness is costly.

Where we begin is with the ultimate source of forgiveness.  According to Jesus’ parable, forgiveness is equated with something that most of us can understand — financial debt.  Jesus doesn’t single out particular sins.  He suggests that hurts, grievances, and wrongs are equivalent with a sense of indebtedness.

To whom do we owe not only our salvation, our abilities, and even our very existence?  The answer is simple — God himself.  That is who the king in Jesus’ parable represents.  And we all owe a debt to God that none of us can repay.

This debt, incurred by our birth, is increased by our lives that “draw” on God’s account.  And it is our sins — our moral failings, our squandered opportunities, our resentments, lusts, and little selfishnesses — that incur our debt to God.  And this is why Jesus, as the incarnate God on earth, exercises his authority to forgive these debts during his ministry and, finally, on the cross.  When he is crucified at the hands of sinful men, the sinless one says:

Father, forgive them, for they don’t know what they are doing (Luke 23:34).

And this forgiveness pivots toward our relationship with others.  Like the servant in the parable, when we have confessed our faith in Christ and asked his forgiveness, we have been forgiven a massive debt that we could never repay.

So, when it comes to hurts, grievances, and injuries that we have suffered from others — no matter how great — do we really imagine that they surpass the debt that we owe to God?  Again, we are like the servant in the parable.  We owe, in effect, billions of dollars to God.  There are people who are indebted to us, who have wronged us in some way — but in comparison, those debts are small.

And Jesus’ central teaching on forgiveness is sobering.  We not only pray it regularly, he stresses it:

For if you forgive men their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you.  But if you don’t forgive men their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses (Matthew 5:12, 14-15).

Again, Jesus’ parable is instructive.  When we have been forgiven so great a debt, what right have we not to forgive those in debt to us, especially when that debt is relatively small in comparison.   It may be that God can’t forgive us when we refuse to forgive others because our hearts are too hard and too self-righteous to receive his forgiveness.

RESPOND: 

Years ago I learned a principle from the world of  cognitive behavioral therapy that has spiritual applications.  It is called the emotional bank.

Here is the concept:  when we are in a relationship, we have a tendency to think that our acts of kindness — like helping out with the chores, or doing someone a favor — is a kind of emotional “deposit” into the emotional bank.  On the other hand, when we do something unkind or wrong, we are also making “withdrawls” from the emotional bank.  We accumulate “capital” by our good behavior, and we lose “emotional capital” by our bad behavior.  If we withdraw more than we deposit, we end up with an emotional deficit with our family, friends, or co-workers.

That may sound a little mercenary, as though it reduces a relationship to a mere transaction.   But it’s also pretty honest.  Whether we like it or not, we do tend to think of our relationships as transactional.  We might try to be more noble, but the emotional bank is a handy benchmark.

The parable Jesus tells suggests a similar transactional concept.  The “debt” incurred by the servant is colossal compared to the “debt” he is owed by his fellow servant.  I’m reminded of something else Jesus says elsewhere:

with whatever judgment you judge, you will be judged; and with whatever measure you measure, it will be measured to you (Matthew 7:2).

The truth is, there is no transaction that we can make with God to receive his forgiveness.  His forgiveness and grace toward us are incredibly costly.  When we forgive, we are in a sense drawing on his “line of credit” of grace toward others.

Once, long ago, when General Oglethorpe of the English Colony in Georgia said “I never forgive,” the Reverend Charles Wesley retorted:

Then I hope, Sir, that you never sin.

As the cliche says:

We owed a debt we could not pay; Christ paid a debt he did not owe.

Lord, I can never repay the debt I owe you.  But I can follow your example on a smaller scale and forgive those who sin against me.  Give me grace to do so.  Amen. 

PHOTOS:
"70 Seven Times" by WELS net is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 2.0 Generic license.

Epistle for September 17, 2017

START WITH SCRIPTURE:

Romans 14:1-12

CLICK HERE TO READ SCRIPTURE ON BIBLEGATEWAY.COM

OBSERVE:

We can easily forget just how radical this new religion of Christianity was.  True, it was predicated on the prophecies and principles of the Jewish faith.  But it was a sharp departure from the legalism that had come to characterize the Pharisaical expression of Judaism.

Paul addresses some of the trickier aspects of Christian culture that will require some nuance — food and festivals.  For contemporary Christians, these concerns may seem quaint, but for Paul’s time they were of extreme importance.

First of all, he makes it clear that food and festivals are not critical to Christian identity.  And he also makes it clear that the church is not a place to wrangle about such issues:

Now accept one who is weak in faith, but not for disputes over opinions.

This is a reassuring word.  The church is not given boundaries that keep out those who are weak in faith.  The church is to be a place where they can receive sound instruction and grow in faith.  However, the church is also not meant to be a debating society.  There are some things that are clearly revealed as true, that are not disputable within the church.  And there are some things that are matters of opinion and personal practice — what some might call adiaphora, which is defined as “matters not regarded as essential to faith, but nevertheless permissible for Christians or allowed in church.”

Some of these adiaphora include what Christians choose to eat, and what special times they observe.  Paul makes it very clear from the very beginning that dietary laws are not central to the Christian faith.  This is radical for a Jew who has been steeped in the Pharisaical tradition.  The dietary laws of Leviticus were of such importance that they had spawned a cottage industry of commentary in the Oral Laws of the Pharisees  — concerning pork, shellfish, blood, lobsters, rabbits, etc.  These Oral Laws had come to be regarded as almost equal to the Written Law, but were actually the traditions and interpretations that had been passed down since the exile of Israel in the 6th century B.C.

Paul makes it clear that what a person chooses to eat or not eat is a matter of personal conscience, not religious legislation.  Peter had already broken this ground when God called him to cross the line separating Jews and Gentiles.  When the Centurion Cornelius invited Peter to come to his home and preach, Peter had experienced a vision preceding this invitation:

He saw heaven opened and a certain container descending to him, like a great sheet let down by four corners on the earth, in which were all kinds of four-footed animals of the earth, wild animals, reptiles, and birds of the sky.  A voice came to him, “Rise, Peter, kill and eat!” But Peter said, “Not so, Lord; for I have never eaten anything that is common or unclean.”   A voice came to him again the second time, “What God has cleansed, you must not call unclean”(Acts 10:11-15).

This vision seemed to have a dual purpose.  On the one hand, symbolically, God was telling Peter that Gentiles were to be included in the church.  But on the other hand, Peter was being told that the prohibited foods were no longer forbidden.  They had been a part of Israel’s cultural identity, but Christianity transcends cultural and ethnic identity issues.

So Paul’s Solomonic wisdom on this issue is that each person must decide in their own mind what is appropriate to eat.  The one thing that he insists on is that whatever a person chooses to eat, as dictated by their own conscience, should not be a matter of division or a source of disapproval:

 One man has faith to eat all things, but he who is weak eats only vegetables.  Don’t let him who eats despise him who doesn’t eat. Don’t let him who doesn’t eat judge him who eats, for God has accepted him.

In a word, church members are not to judge one another based on diet.  Their only judge is God:

Who are you who judge another’s servant? To his own lord he stands or falls. Yes, he will be made to stand, for God has power to make him stand.

Paul then turns to festival days and sabbaths.  The same rule applies:

One man esteems one day as more important. Another esteems every day alike. Let each man be fully assured in his own mind.  He who observes the day, observes it to the Lord; and he who does not observe the day, to the Lord he does not observe it. He who eats, eats to the Lord, for he gives God thanks. He who doesn’t eat, to the Lord he doesn’t eat, and gives God thanks.

The sabbath observation in Judaism, and the three major feasts (Passover, Pentecost, and Tabernacles) were central to the identity of Judaism, along with other minor festivals. Paul is not denying the importance of corporate worship in the church.  He assumes that Christians meet together on the first day of the week (1 Corinthians  11:18-26; 16:2).

But he is also insistent that the ritual system of sacrifices has been superseded.  Certainly, the Gentile is not bound by these Jewish rituals, although we have really good evidence that Paul himself continued to observe them as a Jewish Christian.  For example, when he was returning from his missionary journey from Macedonia and Greece, he was eager to arrive back in Jerusalem in time for Pentecost (Acts 20:16).  It may well be that Pentecost had assumed a dual purpose, as both a Jewish feast day and a Christian commemoration of the coming of the Holy Spirit.

The bottom line for Paul, though, is the importance of the Christian community established by unity in Christ:

For none of us lives to himself, and none dies to himself.  For if we live, we live to the Lord. Or if we die, we die to the Lord. If therefore we live or die, we are the Lord’s.  For to this end Christ died, rose, and lived again, that he might be Lord of both the dead and the living.

What a person eats, or doesn’t eat; or whether they observe all the same holy days, is not relevant.  What is relevant is that they belong to the same Lord, who paid for their salvation with his blood.  The mark of identity in this new community of faith is following Christ — not kosher foods or high holy days.

The bottom line is that every person will be held accountable for their actions and their own conscience before God.  It is not up to individual members to judge one another:

 But you, why do you judge your brother? Or you again, why do you despise your brother? For we will all stand before the judgment seat of Christ.

Lest we draw the conclusion that Paul has renounced his Jewish heritage, he quotes the Hebrew Scriptures, from Isaiah 45:23:

 For it is written,“‘As I live,’ says the Lord, ‘to me every knee will bow. Every tongue will confess to God.’”

Ultimately, every person will be judged according to their own relationship with God, not according to human custom or tradition:

 So then each one of us will give account of himself to God.

APPLY:  

There are a few old cliches that may describe the issue Paul addresses: “don’t major in the minors” and “don’t sweat the small stuff.”

Paul is advising the church in Rome that a person’s diet doesn’t define their faith, nor does their observance of special days.  What defines their faith is their relationship with Christ and his church:

For none of us lives to himself, and none dies to himself.  For if we live, we live to the Lord. Or if we die, we die to the Lord. If therefore we live or die, we are the Lord’s.  For to this end Christ died, rose, and lived again, that he might be Lord of both the dead and the living.

One thing we are not to do is judge someone based on their dietary habits or whether they fast, or how they observe the liturgical calendar.  Fasting, for example, is a spiritual discipline that is encouraged in both the Old and New Testaments.  But the person who fasts is not superior to the person who doesn’t. That is a personal decision.  If it enhances our relationship with God, it is commendable.  But if a person chooses not to do so, that is between themselves and God.

To take the cliches a little farther — as someone has said: “Don’t sweat the small stuff — and it’s all small stuff.”  One person fasts, another doesn’t.  One person eschews meat, another eats it.  That is not an “essential” matter for salvation.

RESPOND: 

Paul’s counsel is ultimately directed toward individual accountability on personal lifestyle issues.  That doesn’t mean that these lifestyle decisions don’t matter.  Fasting is encouraged in the Christian tradition as a means of enhancing our prayer life and reminding us of our dependence on God.  Too much meat, though permissible, does have health consequences — and a vegetarian diet can be of great benefit.

But what we often see, especially in our time, is a kind of moral superiority even among those who are non-religious.  The vegetarian may condescend to the person who orders a hamburger at dinner.  There are Christian denominations that absolutely prohibit meat, alcohol, tobacco, caffeine.  The use of these substances may be debated, and some of them are absolutely of no benefit to the body, but it can’t be demonstrated from Scripture that they separate a person from God.  Gluttony and drunkenness are regarded as sins —but those are sins of excess and a lack of self-control. We don’t stop eating simply because of the risk of overeating.  Anything that we crave, or to which we become addicted, can become our god — and that can separate us from our primary loyalty to God.

And then there is the warning about time.  I tend to like the observance of the liturgical year as observed in my own church — Advent, Christmas, Epiphany, Lent, Easter, Pentecost.  And all the “holy days”: Christmas Eve, Epiphany Day, Baptism of the Lord, Transfiguration Sunday, Ash Wednesday, Holy Week (including Palm Sunday, Maundy Thursday, Good Friday), Easter Sunday, The Day of Ascension, Pentecost Sunday, All Saints Day, Christ the King Sunday.  And I will admit, that when I’m in a church that doesn’t display the “correct” colors for the proper season, it bothers me a little.  Then I have to remember this passage from Romans 14.

At the same time, those from a non-liturgical background should be reminded that they are not to judge traditionalists.  Paraments and special days and unique traditions ( I think of the beautiful icons in Orthodox churches) don’t save anyone.  But as long as those traditions are an enhancement to worship and not the object of worship, the non-liturgical Christian should have no objection.

The bottom line is clear — Christ doesn’t have a “special menu” that every Christian is supposed to choose. Nor does he demand that we all observe the liturgical year.  What ultimately matters is that we live to the Lord.

Lord, I do find that when I fast, it makes me more aware of you. And there are special times of the year that raise my awareness of your story.  But I don’t seek to impose those practices on others.  Help me to live my life by precept and example so that others see you at work in my life, and are drawn to you by my lifestyle.  Amen. 

 PHOTOS:
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Psalter Reading for Sept. 17, 2017

“I will sing to Yahweh, for he has triumphed gloriously.
The horse and his rider he has thrown into the sea.
….He has cast Pharaoh’s chariots and his army into the sea.
His chosen captains are sunk in the Red Sea.”   [Exodus 15:1, 4 (World English Bible)]

START WITH SCRIPTURE:

Exodus 15:1-11, 20-21

CLICK HERE TO READ SCRIPTURE ON BIBLEGATEWAY.COM

OBSERVE:

This passage is a battle hymn.  This is a song of praise and thanksgiving for the God of salvation.  And this God of salvation is a God of war.

In vivid, lyrical verses, this song of Moses describes the triumph of Yahweh over Egypt:

I will sing to Yahweh, for he has triumphed gloriously.
The horse and his rider he has thrown into the sea.

This is the thesis statement of the entire song.  The God who led Moses to Pharaoh has become the salvation of Israel.  And Israel is clearly aware that this is the same God who made covenant with Abraham and the patriarchs, and led them to Canaan: 

This is my God, and I will praise him;
my father’s God, and I will exalt him.

The song makes clear that God is not neutral or impotent in any way:

Yahweh is a man of war.
Yahweh is his name.

This is illustrated by the poetic description of Yahweh’s actions: 

He has cast Pharaoh’s chariots and his army into the sea.
His chosen captains are sunk in the Red Sea.
The deeps cover them.
They went down into the depths like a stone.
Your right hand, Yahweh, is glorious in power.
Your right hand, Yahweh, dashes the enemy in pieces.
In the greatness of your excellency, you overthrow those who rise up against you.
You send out your wrath. It consumes them as stubble.
With the blast of your nostrils, the waters were piled up.
The floods stood upright as a heap.
The deeps were congealed in the heart of the sea.

The poet of this war-song also provides insight into the mind-set and motives of the Egyptians as they pursue Israel: 

The enemy said, ‘I will pursue. I will overtake. I will divide the plunder.
My desire shall be satisfied on them.
I will draw my sword, my hand shall destroy them.’

We are reminded of a song that will be sung by Deborah and Barak in the era of the Judges, about one hundred years after the Exodus.  They are singing about the triumph of Israel over the Canaanites.  In a particularly insightful passage, the song imagines the high expectations of the mother of Sisera, the Canaanite general — that he would come home triumphant.

Through the window she looked out, and cried:
Sisera’s mother looked through the lattice.
‘Why is his chariot so long in coming?
Why do the wheels of his chariots wait?’
 Her wise ladies answered her,
Yes, she returned answer to herself,
 ‘Have they not found, have they not divided the plunder?
A lady, two ladies to every man;
to Sisera a plunder of dyed garments,
a plunder of dyed garments embroidered,
of dyed garments embroidered on both sides, on the necks of the plunder?’ (Judges 5:28-30).

In fact, Sisera was slain at the hand of a woman, and the Canaanite army also scattered, perhaps as the result of earthquake and flood — not unlike the result for the Egyptians in Exodus  (cf Judges 5:4-5).

The Egyptian overconfidence that victory is already a foregone conclusion is a stark contrast to the result.  The song once again addresses God:  

You blew with your wind.
The sea covered them.
They sank like lead in the mighty waters.

In this Song of Moses, there is no doubt that Yahweh’s triumph is a theological and spiritual victory over the gods of Egypt.  He is powerful, and he uses his power to intervene on behalf of the powerless:

Who is like you, Yahweh, among the gods?
Who is like you, glorious in holiness,
fearful in praises, doing wonders?

Finally, our lectionary passage concludes  by reminding us of the central role of women in the Biblical story.  They join in with the Song of Moses as a kind of chorus, led by Miriam the sister of Moses:

Miriam the prophetess, the sister of Aaron, took a tambourine in her hand; and all the women went out after her with tambourines and with dances.  Miriam answered them,
“Sing to Yahweh, for he has triumphed gloriously.
The horse and his rider he has thrown into the sea.”

APPLY:  

Our modern sensibilities may not be comfortable with all of  the sentiments expressed here — victory over one’s enemies, that God is a God of war.  That may be because most of us have the convenience of not having experienced war.  But the Song of Moses is a reminder that this is a moral universe, and that there is a conflict between good and evil.

And as Martin Luther’s powerful hymn, A Mighty Fortress Is Our God says it:

Did we in our own strength confide, our striving would be losing;
Were not the right Man on our side, the Man of God’s own choosing:
Dost ask who that may be? Christ Jesus, it is He;
Lord Sabaoth, His Name, from age to age the same,
And He must win the battle.

There is an ancient debate in Christianity between pacifism and just war theory.  Some heroic Christians, like the Quakers, the Mennonites, the Church of the Brethren, have taken a clear anti-war position, and at times suffered for that stand.  But there are many Christians since Augustine who have argued that there are times when war, though terrible, may be the only recourse in order to prevent a greater evil.

One clear modern example is World War II.  What Christian wishes to imagine a world in which the Axis powers, led by racial supremacists and fascists, won that war?  The effects would have been even more horrific than the war itself, based on what we know of the Holocaust and other atrocities.

God’s triumph over Egypt was theological and spiritual, yes.  But it was also simply a dramatic victory of good over evil — an Egyptian regime that had countenanced infanticide of Hebrew male children and the enslavement of the Hebrew people under increasingly brutal conditions.  It may be argued that the ever increasing intensity of the plagues were an effort to get the attention of the Pharaoh — and the only weapon that Pharaoh finally understood was raw, naked power.  There are times that God must be a man of war, and when even Christians may consider that war is the only alternative to a greater evil.

[I am very aware of the debate concerning Pharaoh’s state of mind as the plagues gradually increase in intensity. At first, it seems, Pharaoh hardens his own heart in resistance to Moses’ pleas to free Israel (Exodus 7:13, 22; 8:15, 19, 32; 9:34, 35).  But as the struggle intensifies, Yahweh is described as hardening Pharaoh’s heart (Exodus 9:12; 10:1, 20, 27; 11:10; 14:8).  This is a complex issue.  Nothing happens without God’s permission, and yet God permits us to choose the good or the evil.  He grants us free will.  I personally believe that God allows Pharaoh to harden his own heart — and as it becomes apparent that Pharaoh merely wants to “negotiate” a compromise with Moses and his God, it becomes clear that God must decisively defeat Pharaoh and his gods.]

RESPOND: 

There are battle hymns that celebrate human victory, and there are battle hymns that celebrate God’s victory effected through human agents.

One of my favorite battle hymns is a 15th century hymn celebrating Henry V’s victory over the French at Agincourt on St. Crispin’s Day, October 25, 1415. Here it is, translated from the Middle English dialect.

Our king went forth to Normandy,
With grace and might of chivalry;
Then God for him wrought marvelously,
Wherefore England may call, and cry

Chorus:
Deo gratias
Deo gratias
Anglia redde pro victoria.

(Translation of the Latin: Give thanks to God, England, for the victory).

The French might debate whether or not God was responsible for England’s victory.

Another great Battle Hymn celebrates a more defensible cause — preserving the Union and ending  slavery — written by Julia Ward Howe in November 1861, near the beginning of the American Civil War:

Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord;
He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored;
He hath loosed the fateful lightning of His terrible swift sword;
His truth is marching on.
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah! Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah! His truth is marching on.

However, even this majestic hymn can be controversial.  One Sunday morning many years ago I included this hymn as part of the worship service in my church — and a young man who was also a member of the Sons of Confederate Veterans walked out of the church!  He did return after the song was over.

As a direct descendant of a Confederate veteran myself, I didn’t find much sympathy with my young friend.  Although I can appreciate the ambiguities and nuances of the Confederate cause and the courage of the Confederate soldier, I can unequivocally say that I am personally glad that the Union was preserved and the abhorrent institution of slavery was abolished.

In so many cases, we don’t know until long afterwards whether a war really was just or not.  In the United States, we are still debating the Vietnam War and Operation Iraqi Freedom.

War will always be an ambiguous affair. And so should it be.  A famous quote attributed to George Orwell is sobering:

people sleep peacefully in their beds at night only because rough men stand ready to do violence on their behalf.

But we as believers must stake our security on different grounds.  We can sleep peacefully at night because of a God who is willing to act on behalf of justice and mercy.  As the Psalmist has it:

He who keeps you will not slumber.
 Behold, he who keeps Israel
will neither slumber nor sleep (Psalm 121:3-4).

Our Lord, we count on your deliverance from evil because we can’t deliver ourselves.  We cling to the promise that you will fight for us.  Amen. 

PHOTOS:

"Pharaoh's army engulfed by the Red Sea" oil on canvas, by Frederick Arthur Bridgman (1900) is in the Public Domain.

Old Testament for September 17, 2017

Start with Scripture:

Exodus 14:19-31

CLICK HERE TO READ SCRIPTURE ON BIBLEGATEWAY.COM

OBSERVE:

Our Old Testament lectionary reading for this week is one of the pivotal passages of the Hebrew Bible — if not the entire Bible!  This account of the parting of the Red Sea is to the story of Israel what the resurrection of Jesus is to the Christian church.

Appropriately, this selection begins not with Moses or the children of Israel, but with God:

The angel of God, who went before the camp of Israel, moved and went behind them; and the pillar of cloud moved from before them, and stood behind them.

Some interpreters believe that the angel of God (angel means messenger) is a euphemism for God himself.  Still others suggest that the angel of God is the second person of the Trinity manifest in the Old Testament prior to the incarnation of Jesus.

In any event, the angel of God manifests himself as the pillar of cloud and fire.  We recall that when God revealed his identity and gave the mission to Moses, he was manifest in the bush that burned and was not consumed (Exodus 3:2-4).  It might be said that the pillar of cloud and fire are the burning bush writ larger, on a bigger scale.

In this instance, the pillar assumes a position of defense, between the Israelites who are fleeing from Egypt, and the full military might of the Egyptians, with chariots and army in hot pursuit.  A few words of background are in order.  The ten plagues of Egypt have culminated in the widespread death of all of the firstborn of Egyptian families — from the Pharaoh’s firstborn to the captive in prison —  as well as their livestock (Exodus 12:29).  The Israelites, hunkered down in their homes, with lamb’s blood on the doorposts and lintels of their houses, celebrated the first Passover meal, and their firstborn were all spared (Exodus 12:21-27).

Pharaoh, who had grown increasingly angry with Moses with each turn of the screw of the plagues, had finally had enough.  The scale of death had finally come home to him with the death of his own child. Not a single household in Egypt was untouched.   He sent the Israelites away — Exodus tells us that there were six hundred thousand men on foot, not counting women and children.  The Egyptians, perhaps as a means of atoning for the enslavement of the Hebrews, loaded the Israelites with gold, silver, jewels and clothing (Exodus 12:35-36).  Or perhaps they were afraid of refusing these slaves whose God had shown such immense power.

And yet again, Pharaoh’s heart was hardened, and he resolved to pursue and destroy the Israelites.  Despite their numbers, the Israelites were relatively defenseless — and Egypt was the great superpower of their day.  There would be no contest.  So Pharaoh must have thought.

But as the chariots and the army approached the Israelites, the pillar of cloud, which became a pillar of fire by night, interposed itself between the military and the Israelites.  God himself had become the fortress for Israel!

Meanwhile, Moses obeyed Yahweh’s command:

Moses stretched out his hand over the sea, and Yahweh caused the sea to go back by a strong east wind all night, and made the sea dry land, and the waters were divided. The children of Israel went into the middle of the sea on the dry ground, and the waters were a wall to them on their right hand, and on their left.

Once again, Yahweh demonstrated his almighty power over the forces of nature.  The choice of words is interesting.  The waters were divided.  This is the same language used in creation, when God divided elements from one another to create differentiation.  In Genesis 1, God divided light from darkness (v. 4), and waters from the expanse of the sky(v. 7).  God also gathers the waters into the seas so the dry land can emerge (v.9-10).  The same power  over nature that was present at creation is now present in the deliverance of Israel.

Israel escapes on dry land through this corridor of water all night long. Apparently, Yahweh permits the Egyptians to pursue — to their destruction:

The Egyptians pursued, and went in after them into the middle of the sea: all of Pharaoh’s horses, his chariots, and his horsemen.  In the morning watch, Yahweh looked out on the Egyptian army through the pillar of fire and of cloud, and confused the Egyptian army.  He took off their chariot wheels, and they drove them heavily; so that the Egyptians said, “Let’s flee from the face of Israel, for Yahweh fights for them against the Egyptians!”

The Egyptians realized — too late — that Yahweh was fighting for Israel.  They were up against an invincible foe.  Sadly, the war had been waged through the ten plagues, and Pharaoh still hadn’t grasped the reality — Yahweh is God, and the Egyptian gods and goddesses are powerless and phony.

But it is too late for the Egyptians to escape.  Yahweh instructed Moses to stretch out his hand over the sea, and it closed over the Egyptian chariots and horsemen, drowning Pharaoh’s army completely.  The bodies of the Egyptians were washed up on the shore, where the people of Israel saw that their formidable adversaries were no longer any threat.

This event becomes a pillar of faith in the salvation history  for the people of Israel. The Israelites confess their own faith in God and his prophet.

Israel saw the great work which Yahweh did to the Egyptians, and the people feared Yahweh; and they believed in Yahweh, and in his servant Moses.

APPLY:  

One of the most profound passages in the account of Israel crossing the Red Sea is not included in our Scripture passage from this week, although it is in the same chapter.  When the Israelites see the dust from the Egyptian chariots and army in hot pursuit, drawing closer and closer, they cry out in terror.  They fear they have been led to the edge of the Red Sea, trapped in order to be massacred.  They bitterly complain to Moses that he has misled them.  And he answers boldly:

Don’t be afraid. Stand still, and see the salvation of Yahweh, which he will work for you today: for the Egyptians whom you have seen today, you shall never see them again. Yahweh will fight for you, and you shall be still (Exodus 14:13-14).

Evidently, though, Moses must have confided his own fears to God, for Yahweh says to him:

Why do you cry to me? Speak to the children of Israel, that they go forward.  Lift up your rod, and stretch out your hand over the sea, and divide it: and the children of Israel shall go into the middle of the sea on dry ground (Exodus 14:15-16).

There are at least four key applications of this passage to our lives as Christians and to the church:

• First, God is the one who takes the initiative in delivering us. We don’t take the first step with God — we are always responding.  Moses turns aside to see the burning bush because God is drawing him.  And God is the one who takes the initiative in leading the Israelites and protecting them with the pillar of cloud and the pillar of fire.
• Second, Yahweh’s uniqueness is demonstrated in his power over the greatest superpower of that time, and in his total victory over the Egyptian gods and goddesses. This uniqueness will be underscored in the Ten Commandments that will be revealed on Sinai:
  You shall have no other gods before me (Exodus 20:3).
  There are no powers greater than God’s , certainly not those gods that we tend to worship today — political, military, technological, financial, or otherwise.
• Third, we are reminded that our proper response to God’s commands is to obey, even when such obedience seems counter-intuitive. The command to cross over the Red Sea between two walls of water must have seemed insane to the Israelites.  The commands we receive to give, to serve, to turn the other cheek when insulted, to forgive, even to love our enemies, seem insane to us — until we obey and find the grace that Christ promises.
• Fourth, events like this mighty deliverance, and the resurrection of Jesus, become central to our own confession of faith. We believe, not because we have figured out all the answers, but because God has acted in history, and the witnesses who were there assure us that God is mightier than the gods and goddesses of this earth; and he is mightier than sin, death and the devil.

RESPOND: 

When I was a teenager living in Southern California I went to Universal Studios with some friends.  One of the rides that was touted then was the “Parting of the Red Sea,” which was really nothing more than two gates that pushed back the water so the trolley could drive through.  Needless to say, I was unimpressed.

The parting of the Red Sea was no gimmick or magic trick.  God’s power was demonstrated in order to save his people from certain destruction.

Is there a difference between the dramatic miracle at the Red Sea and some of the more dramatic human responses to catastrophe?  Take for example when the British Expeditionary Force was trapped by the German army at Dunkirk in May, 1940.  Like the Israelites, the BEF and their French compatriots had been driven into a seemingly untenable position — between a mighty enemy and an impassible body of water (in this case, the English Channel). There were not enough British Naval vessels to rescue them.  But thousands of British civilians rose to the occasion, and came to the rescue in yachts, fishing boats, skiffs and dinghies.  From May 26 to June 10, about 330,000 British, French and Belgian troops were rescued.

This is an inspiring story, and one might even say that many of  the British civilians rose to the occasion because of their faith in God.  But it is not quite like the “rescue” of the Israelites in which they were simply invited to:

Stand still, and see the salvation of Yahweh (Exodus 14:13).

There is, however, a degree of synergism required, even here.  Synergism means that there is a cooperation necessary in our deliverance.  We are of course saved by grace, but we respond with faith and obedience.

Frederick Douglass, the eloquent former slave who advocated for abolition during the American Civil War, is widely quoted as saying:

I prayed for freedom for twenty years, but received no answer until I prayed with my legs.

And isn’t that what happens at the Red Sea?  God takes the initiative — he protects Israel with the pillar of fire/pillar of cloud from the advance of Egyptian military power. And he opens the way through the Red Sea for Israel’s escape.  However, there was a response required of Israel.  They had to believe and obey, and walk between those walls of water on either side. They could have simply sat down and said, “No way I’m walking out there!  That water could collapse at any moment, and I can’t swim!”

God offers free grace, and invites us to walk through the corridors of grace.  But we must — as the old hymn says it:

Trust and obey
For there’s no other way
To be happy in Jesus
But to trust and obey (John H. Sammis, 1846-1919).

Lord, your mighty hand has parted the Red Sea, and raised your Son from the dead.  There is nothing you cannot do.  Help me to be secure in your protective “pillar of fire and cloud” and trust you and obey you.  Amen.

PHOTOS:
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