The following is Richard Rohr’s Daily Meditation from the Center for Action and Contemplation. We hear from Diana Butler Bass who speaks about Seeing Jesus Again.

The question of how we see, and what the lenses are that allow us to understand our lives and the world more deeply is a question that I’ve cared about for a really long time. . . . How do we understand where and how the divine, where God, the Holy Spirit is operating in our lives, in our institutions, and the world around us? What gives us the capacity to even understand any of that? . . . In the latest book [Freeing Jesus], what I really wanted to do is settle down to the basic issue, or the basic central reality of Christianity. Because people started asking me about ten years ago, “Why do you stay Christian?” . . . And I’d have all sorts of fancy answers and then I’d just say, well, it’s because of Jesus. . . . That’s where I wanted to go, and think about: who is Jesus really? Who has Jesus been for me? And why has that been so central to my own life story? . . . And I think where Freeing Jesus has taken me is that somehow staying Christian is about staying in and with and through Jesus. Jesus has everything to do with it. And that really matters to me. Yet Jesus has not stayed the same for me through my whole life’s journey. And so, I’ve had to be open to understanding that, even though there’s one verse in Hebrews that says “Jesus Christ is the same, yesterday, today, and forever” [Hebrews 13:8], I have not stayed the same yesterday, today, and forever. The church does not stay the same yesterday, today, and forever. And so, in a very real way, Jesus has changed for me. Jesus changes for the world. Jesus changes for the institutions of faith, for the church. . . . If you’re not doing that kind of work, of letting the end of one image emerge for you and a new image of Jesus be born for you, you’re probably in a pretty static place in your own faith. In Freeing Jesus, Bass describes our relationship with Jesus as a dynamic opportunity to see God and ourselves perpetually anew: If we think that being with Jesus means getting the right answers from a creed or remembering points of doctrine from a sermon, we probably will not manage to truly know Jesus. We will only succeed in keeping the right responses scribbled on some back page of our memory. “Who are you, Lord?” [Acts 9:3–5] is the question of a lifetime, to be asked and experienced over and over again. That query frees Jesus to show up in our lives over and over again, and entails remembering where we first met, how we struggled with each other along the road, and what we learned in the process. [Diana Butler Bass, Freeing Jesus: Rediscovering Jesus as Friend, Teacher, Savior, Lord, Way, and Presence (New York: HarperOne, 2021)]

Check out our recent Podcast which looks at the version of Jesus depicted in the Gospel of Mark.

Self-Worth (July Series)

Throughout this series we are going to dive into our Self-Worth. Looking at what the Bible tells about our Self-Worth and how to curb some of the toxic self-talk that can plague our everyday living. Knowing our true Self-Worth through the eyes of Christ is essential as we navigate through life.

July 4^th

The Divine Fingerprint

We will look at how we all have a divine fingerprint within because we are all created in the image of God. (Genesis 1:26-27; Psalm 139:13-14; John 3:16-17)

July 11^th

Putting Ourselves First

We will look at how it is important to put ourselves first at times so we can give others the best version of ourselves. (Mark 1:29-39)

July 18^th

 In The Mirror

We will unpack the power of the Holy Spirit which magnifies our divine fingerprint which encourages us to look within. (Acts 1:8; Philippians 4:13)

July 25^th

Flipping the Script on Self-Talk

We will look at how we can flip the script on our damaging self-talk by resting in how God sees us. (Hebrews 4:14-16)

We are starting a new series at our Church this month called, In The Beginning: Diving into Genesis Ch. 1-11.

In this series we are going to look at what God can show us through these amazing stories found in the beginning of our Bible. These stories are too often skimmed over or debated between scholars and theologians. Our goal throughout this series is to dive into the heart of these stories and see what they reveal to us about the Nature of God and humanity.

The book of Genesis is a beautiful part of our Bible and can teach us so much if we are willing to sit with the text. Allowing God to show us more than we can imagine as we sit with them and reflect on the things happening in our world when God inspired these Holy scriptures.

We would love for you to join us on this journey as we practice our value of Going Deeper with Genesis Ch. 9-11. You can stay up to date with our sermon by either checking out our YouTube Channel or Podcast (which you can find details about below). We will have weekly blog post and Midweek Devotionals throughout this series going deeper into the book of Genesis.

Our series kicks off this Sunday May 2nd, and feel free to attend our service at Geham SS from 9:30am to 11:00am followed by a light morning tea.

Sincerely,

Pastor Matt

Highfields Church of Christ – YouTube

Tuesday, December 15, 2020 from Center for Action and Contemplation by Richard Rhor

Jesus’ life offered an example of humility and self-emptying, but he chose an additional model for his disciples: that of little children. Despite what we see depicted in so much religious art, it was not meant as a “cute” or sentimental gesture! As Albert Nolan shares, it was a radical revaluing of human dignity, based on nothing that society could see or quantify! Taken seriously, it is still a profound message for us today.

Jesus was uncompromising in his belief that all human beings were equal in dignity and worth. He treated the blind, the lame and the [sick], the outcasts and beggars with as much respect as that given to those of high rank and status. He refused to consider women and children unimportant or inferior. This turned a carefully ordered society of status and honor upside down—even more so when he advocated moving down the social ladder instead of striving to reach the top. [1]

When his disciples were arguing about who was the greatest, Jesus put his arm around a little child (Mark 9:36–37). According to Jesus, the least or most insignificant persons in the society are the greatest (Luke 9:48). In the society and culture of the time, the child had no standing or status whatsoever. The child was a “nobody.” The implication is that Jesus and those who want to follow him are “nobodies,” right at the bottom of the social ladder. For Jesus, the child was a model of radical humility (Matthew 18:3–4) [or what I am calling “self-emptying” this week]. Those who wish to follow him will have to become as humble as little children. [2]

Richard again: It’s difficult to hear, but Albert Nolan is simply quoting Jesus from several contexts—usually when the Twelve are all in their heads arguing. We cannot become humble by mere intellect or willpower. Pretending to be humble only makes us more self-absorbed and self-referential. All we can really do is become more aware of our pride or vanity by noticing how we respond to even minor slights or humiliations. That will be more than enough to let us know how self-centered we are and how meaningless our taking offense truly is in this infinite universe.

by JARED BYAS, M.A. from the following website, just click here

As a former teaching pastor and professor of philosophy and biblical studies, he speaks regularly on the Bible, truth, creativity, wisdom, and the Christian faith. Tweets at @jbyas

In the Bible scholars often talk of two kinds of law: apodictic and casuistic. These are part of a collection of fancy words that we use as a secret code to determine who really is the nerdiest among us (see also: Deuteronomic, theophanic, and other impressive terms that end in ‘c’.)

Apodictic laws are Divine Commands that tend to be both general and absolute. Take, for example, the Ten Commandments. “Thou Shalt Not Kill.” That’s a very broad statement but is clearly meant to be an absolute command. It’s black and white – which you would think would help us be clear about it. But because life is in color, and all shades of gray, apodictic laws are actually confusing.

Enter casuistic laws.

Casuistic laws are case laws. They are very specific and also conditional (meaning they usually start with “if” and are followed somewhere along the way with a “then”). In some ways casuistic laws are the on-the-ground working-out of apodictic laws. We see this relationship in the Bible all over the place. If only we didn’t skip those sections out of boredom but then lie and tell people we really did read the whole Bible in a year.

A famous example of course is found in the contrast between Exodus 20 and Exodus 21. Exodus 20 contains The Ten Commandments, which contains things like:

“You shall have no other gods before me.” (v. 3)

“Remember the Sabbath day by keeping it holy.” (v. 8)

“You shall not murder.” (v. 13)

“You shall not commit adultery.” (v. 14)

“You shall not steal.” (v. 15)

And so on goes the list of apodictic laws.

Exodus 21 begins with a very different kind of law. See for example verses 28-29:

“If a bull gores a man or woman to death, the bull is to be stoned to death, and its meat must not be eaten. But the owner of the bull will not be held responsible. If, however, the bull has had the habit of goring and the owner has been warned but has not kept it penned up and it kills a man or woman, the bull is to be stoned and its owner also is to be put to death.”

These casuistic laws are trying to apply the abstract principle “You shall not murder.” If my bull kills someone, is that murder? Well, it depends. Does your bull have a habit of goring? Have verbal warnings been given? Casuistic laws have a lot of “it depends.”

Why do I bring you down into the dungeon of nerdom? Because I’ve been thinking a lot about how this applies to our ideas about love. 

I find almost no one who pushes back on the “apodictic” law of love.

In the abstract, black-and-white, principled sense – who wouldn’t agree that love is the highest good?

It’s when we start to get into the casuistic applications that things get messy. In other words, expressing love in our life is more about practical wisdom than it is abstract principles. It’s messy. It’s the push and pull between the ideal and the real, the “this should work in theory” and “why the heck didn’t that work?”

What might not be obvious when we read Exodus 21 is the experiences and stories behind those casuistic laws of “if/then.” There was likely a time when the pronouncement was made: “Thou shalt not kill.” And we felt safe and secure knowing we had a rule. And then a bull gores someone. And we have to ask, “What do we do now?” There is no rule for this particular situation at this particular time involving these particular people. And we are stuck. To apply a universal rule that doesn’t take into account the specific situation feels unfair and unhelpful. To ignore the rule feels ungrounded and unhelpful. 

So, we work through it. And then leave it as an example for the future generations to say, “This is how we did it. But you will need to make your own path.” 

So, what is love? It depends.

Post from https://peteenns.com/engaging-the-bible-as-if-god-were-out-ahead-of-us/ for more information about Pete Enns and the work he does please visit his website.

Do not say, “Why were the former days better than these?” For it is not from wisdom that you ask this. ~ Ecclesiastes 7:10

Thus says the ancient, postexilic, author who went by the penname Qoheleth. 

Qoheleth likely lived during the time when the Persians ruled, or even later during the Greek period. His world was complex and messy, a far cry from the ordered world of old that birthed his Jewish tradition. 

To read Ecclesiastes is to see someone struggling to stay connected to his tradition amid a changing world—not for lack of trying, but because the tradition did not help him explain his present. 

The finality of death, skepticism over the afterlife, the absurdity of life’s labors, and his blaming of an inscrutable God for this whole business pitted him in a struggle with the God of old, and he made no bones about doing so.

I am very glad that Ecclesiastes found its way into the Jewish and Christian Scriptures. His experience of alienation from the faith of old very much rings true for many Christians today, namely those who are having trouble staying connected to the faith of their youth.

They are seeking new language for their evolving faith, which, like that of Qoheleth, is sparked by the tensions between an ancient faith lived in a modern world. 

What resonates with me so powerfully about Qoheleth is that he calls into question a tendency that is so common in American evangelicalism today: to think of the Bible as a mandate to return to the “former days”—a sentiment evidenced whenever “biblical” or “unbiblical” is used to describe someone’s thinking. 

I think if we were to pin Qoheleth to the wall and ask him whether he actually rejected the tradition, he would say no. In fact, the book ends with a call to “fear God and keep his commandments” (12:13)—an affirmation of tradition if ever I heard one.

But . . . 

This affirmation of tradition is set side by side with the affirmation of Qoheleth’s bracing challenges to the tradition. After nearly 12 chapters of skepticism, even cynicism, the writer of the brief concluding section still calls him a wise teacher who “wrote words of truth plainly” (12:9-10).

Call it a paradox: honor the tradition of old and interrogate it as we exist in the present. 

Or perhaps better put, honor the tradition by interrogating it. This is how I understand Ecclesiastes 7:10 cited above: not as a blanket rejection of tradition, but as a warning not to idolize it. 

Traditions survive by adapting to the challenges of the present. A tradition that does not remain curious and flexible, willing to address the moment, is a tradition that will die a slow but inevitable death. 

I find this paradox life-giving, particularly because Scripture as a whole models this paradox again and again, not only in Qoheleth’s challenging of the tradition, but, for example, in Job’s rejection of the theology of retribution such as we read in Deuteronomy, and Jonah’s realization that God may not hate Israel’s enemies.

And the New Testament writers proclaim the Gospel as deeply tied to the ancient tradition while at the same pushing past the tradition—obedience to Torah, temple worship, a monarchy, and possession of the Promised Land. 

For the New Testament authors, these core elements of the tradition were not rejected, but neither were mimicked or reproduced. Rather, they were radically reinterpreted to keep pace with a God who was out ahead of the tradition, leading it to place “no eye has seen or ear heard.”

The Bible simply does not allow its readers to glorify an idealized past time as a golden age. The Bible, rather, bears witness to how knowledge of God is a process of on the move— changing, developing, evolving—because God is always out ahead of what we can possibly understand or think.

The Bible itself bears witness to the process of moving forward rather than retreating to an idealized past. 

And so engaging the Bible seriously today means more than seeing it as a vault of unaltering, static pieces of “information.” It means paying attention to this paradox of old and new. 

Never simply a choice between one or the other, but always both. 

Never thinking that God is found only in the one and not the other, but in both.

Never limiting God’s activity to the past, but always asking where God might be out in front of us. 

Like Qoheleth, we live in a messy world made more and more complicated, for generations, now, by explosions in technology and science. To think the Bible provides an escape from addressing constructively the challenges of our day is not only to miss the Bible’s own witness, but will signal far and wide that the Christian faith is only prepared to wish for a past rather than create a future. 

Engaging the Bible responsibly means today what it has always meant: embracing the expectation that God is doing a new thing among us. Our job is to discern what God is doing, not isolate ourselves from that sacred responsibility by cloaking ourselves with prooftexts.

By Pete Enns, PH.D.

Peter Enns (Ph.D., Harvard University) is Abram S. Clemens professor of biblical studies at Eastern University in St. Davids, Pennsylvania. He has written numerous books, including The Bible Tells Me So, The Sin of Certainty, and How the Bible Actually Works. Tweets at @peteenns.

by Missy Takano

Can We Take the New Testament Letters, or Epistles, at Face Value?

When we read the New Testament letters (also known as the epistles), it can be easy to see ourselves on the pages. We read about Christians trying to figure out how to live well, get along with each other, and love God. We can relate to verses like “love one another” (Romans 13:8)

and “forgive as God forgave you” (Colossians 3:13). So it gets tricky when we come to sections that don’t seem to line up with our own experiences. How can we apply Scripture to our lives when it talks about things like new moon festivals (Colossians 2:16.), head coverings (1 Corinthians 11:6), or a command to bring Paul his cloak (2 Timothy 4:13)? Can we take these epistles at face value as being written to us, or do we have a long and difficult process of study ahead? Or is there something in between?

Epistles: Written to Me or Written for Us?

Some have a view that if the Bible says it, that’s good enough for them──truth to be taken literally. And this view often comes from a place of high respect for Scripture. That respect is a great starting point. However, an important next step is to see that these letters are works of literature. This means thinking about who wrote them, who received them, when, and why.

While we as Jesus followers might feel “closest” to the New Testament audiences, the original recipients are still far removed from us in time, place, and culture. Reading these letters as if they’re written directly to modern Christians can leave opportunities to miss the fuller, richer meaning of the text. Let’s look at a few examples.

I Can Do All Things Through Christ?

Philippians 4:13 is a great example of this. Paul writes, “I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength.” This verse is easy to adopt as a motivational mantra or use as a pep talk for personal challenges. But Paul was specifically writing about an attitude of contentment during times of great hardship. Understanding this context may seem like a loss if we’re used to applying Philippians 4:13 in a certain way. But when we look at Paul’s life and the challenges he encountered, and when we read about the encouragement Jesus gave him to endure hard things with joy, we are engaging with the text in a way that more closely mirrors how the first audience did.

Put on the Armor of God?

Another example is the “armor of God” passage in Ephesians 6:10-17 It’s almost certain that the church in Ephesus recognized the messianic references Paul uses in this epistle, showing that the armor is about “putting on Christ” and not about us mustering up our own righteousness or faith. The applications to our lives are stronger when we see these passages in context. They may not have been written to us, but we can certainly learn a lot from eavesdropping on these letters! So where do we go from here?

Three Elements of a Full Experience of the Epistles

An optimal approach to Scripture incorporates the work of study, the work of the Holy Spirit, and the work of community. Let’s take a look at each one of these.

1. The work of study deepens our understanding of the Epistles

Learning to examine the Bible as literature is one of the best ways to respect the literary genius behind the text. This might seem like a tall order. Do we all need Bible college degrees? Are we going to have to learn ancient languages? Is it okay for us to simply open up the New Testament and dive in without training? Take heart! It may seem like the Bible is complex and layered, but it’s because of this complexity that we can find truth, encouragement, and wisdom at any level. We can all grow in our skill and knowledge, but we’re invited to jump into the text no matter where we are. The New Testament letters are a great place to hone our ability to study the Bible, whether we are new to the work of study or have been at it for years. One idea is to invest in a Bible that’s specifically labeled a study Bible. These Bibles are full of helpful tools that offer context, outlines, and hyperlinks to the common themes of Scripture. BibleProject’s How to Read the Bible playlist is also a great place to start or grow your ability to study well.

2. The Holy Spirit shapes our reading of the Epistles

The New Testament epistles are a popular choice for daily, focused reading––a ritual of time and attention on Scripture with an intent to gain guidance and enrichment. Sometimes, a verse or a passage leaps off the page as though it applies directly to our personal situation. In these times, we might feel encouraged or directed towards a certain choice or attitude. The Holy Spirit often brings verses or passages to light in a way that seems personal. These are good times to commit Scripture to memory, process in prayer, or take note by writing the reference down in a journal.

3. Community influences our application of the Epistles

When we approach Scripture with curiosity about how it was intended to be read, there’s a better chance of understanding it well. Paul ends 1 Thessalonians with the instruction, “I charge you before the Lord to have this letter read to all the brothers and sisters.” Gathering with other Christians to engage Scripture is how the original audiences of these letters heard the passages! We can incorporate community by meeting with others to go through the Bible together or by finding a study book or commentary written by someone who has put in hard work and has insight to share. By hearing about how others wrestle with Scripture, we can develop our own tools and abilities. It’s helpful when Bible study groups first explore the question, “what did this passage mean to its original audience?” before they ask, “how does this verse relate to my life?” This line of questioning leads to a deeper, better application to us personally and in community.

Bringing it Together

When we open up the letters written to the churches and individuals of the New Testament, we are participating in a story that seems both far away and relevant. While the letters weren’t written directly to you and me, we can have confidence in God’s wisdom emerging from the pages today. The same Holy Spirit that inspired the biblical authors is faithful to give us insight as we read. The benefit of community brings us closer to the context of the letters and encourages us to press on when Scripture seems distant from our modern lives. And with the work of study, we can expect thoughtful literature as we learn to read the Bible well. Incorporating these three elements into our approach, instead of leaning on just one, will go a long way toward a fuller, richer experience of Scripture.

Be encouraged to open Paul’s letter to the Colossians on your own tomorrow morning, perhaps with a cup of coffee in hand. Find a few friends who will meet weekly to go through the book of Romans together. Invest in study tools that will help you to dive deeper into the book of Hebrews. No matter where you are in your engagement of the Bible, the New Testament letters will inform and enlighten you.

Missy Takano is a missionary with TeachBeyond at the Black Forest Academy in Kandern, Germany, where she lives with her husband and two kids. She holds a BA in Biblical Studies from Multnomah University with an emphasis on New Testament Greek. She loves to wrestle with Scripture until it lives in her in a way that she can communicate it with others richly.

found on https://bibleproject.com/blog/can-we-take-the-new-testament-letters-epistles-at-face-value/

Article is from peteenns.com

PETE ENNS, PH.D.

We all react to COVID-19 in our own way. Some hoard, some hide. Some fear for their own safety and the safety of loved ones. Some are exhausted by little ones at their feet, some are craving human contact beyond social media.

However we respond to the new normal, this virus has cramped our style. And now it looks like things won’t be back to semi-normal until (optimistically) early May or so (who am I kidding . . .). 

And we all want to get back to normal, to the way our lives were before. We want to visit whom we want when we want, buy food or eat out, start the %@&#! baseball season, not cancel weddings and graduations, and basically not catch a potentially life-threatening virus because someone 4 feet away from us cleared their throat.

I’m down with that, but all this is putting me in a rather pensive, Ecclesiastes-like train of thought, namely:

• What exactly are we so rushed to get back to? 
• What were we doing that was really so deeply significant on the grand scale of things? 
• Or were we just amusing ourselves—kidding ourselves—that anything we do “under the sun” is really all that worth it when we stop to think about it?

Yes, this post is taking a sharp turn to despair, but not really. Give me a chance.

I am thinking about my life now and my life “BC” (before coronavirus), and although they are so very different, are they really that different on the deeper level of meaning? 

The book of Ecclesiastes takes on the question of meaning the way only a tortured soul can—with the kind of honest “prove me wrong” clarity we rarely get to when things are going well for us. 

The anonymous writer, whose pen name is Qohelet, is obviously working through some issues, and concludes that “normal” is at the end of the day meaningless—or “vanity” as some translations have it. 

Our “normal” is for Qohelet of no lasting consequence. His line of argument, which he repeats throughout the book, goes something like this:

********

Everything, absolutely everything is utterly meaningless, and trying to find some meaning amid the absurdity of life is about as productive as chasing a gust of wind.

(Seems like a ball of laughs. I wonder if he does kids’ parties. It gets worse.)

Why do I say that everything is absolutely, absurdly meaningless? Because, if you think about it, nothing that we do—none of our frenzied toils and labors—actually benefit us in any lasting, meaningful way in the final analysis. 

(Surely you can’t mean that, Qohelet. I have all sorts of things I can point to in my life that tell me I’m getting a lot out of benefit from my work. . . like that screw and nail organizer I just bought, this blog post I’m working on, or . . . )

If I may interrupt, the reason none of our labors amount to anything is because, in the end, we lose—we all die. And not only do we die, but we will be quickly forgotten by those who remain just as we have forgotten those who have died before us.

(Why do you have to bring that up?)

That is the inevitable end of us all. We all die. Fool and sage, rich and poor, the industrious and the lazy, the righteous and the wicked. The same fate awaits us all, and what we do—our daily frenzied rushing about—cannot change that one bit. That’s the way the world works. That’s the way God has set it all up.

(OK, but don’t you believe that after you die you. . . ?)

We don’t really know, do we, what happens after death? We die just like animals, and who is to say that our spirits continue and theirs do not? All we can really be sure of is that, at the end of the day, the end will come for us all. 

(You’re so depressing.)

And here’s the thing: we’re only able to come to this conclusion because God has given us humans a sense of time; we ponder what has come before and what might come in the future—and yet that very ability also shows that nothing we do can make a difference at the end. The best that we can do, therefore, is to live our daily lives and find as much happiness as we can during the few years we have.

******

You might be wondering how this book made the cut to get into the Bible. And you might also be wondering where I’m going with all this.

As I said, I’ve been thinking lately, as many of us are, about what I actually do to use up the minutes of my life and why I do them. 

“Normal” is no more, and never will be again. We are in a new world, and—taking some inspiration from the I-just-tell-it-like-I-see-it Qohelet—I want to be more intentional in how I live, to be more aware of how I “chase the wind” (one of Qohelet’s favorite expressions for useless activity). 

I want to not want to just slip back into “normal,” but interrogate my notions of what “normal” is. Rather than give the old normal a free pass and simply yearn for it, I want to take this time to ponder new beginnings—even small ones.

Maybe “normal” isn’t all that. Maybe it was pretty ridiculous, a scam to keep us in a fog. And maybe this tragic, Qohelet-like existential crisis we are facing will help us to be more intentional with our lives.