Peeps and the Hope of Resurrection

Every year at Easter, I buy a box of those controversial of Easter candies, Peeps. Large sugar-coated marshmallows, you either love 'em or hate 'em, most folks falling into the later category. Well, I buy a box every year because they were one of my grandmother's favorites. She passed away several years ago of cancer. My first experience with that disease. Like her favorite Easter candy, she was bright and festive and exceedingly kind-hearted---gooey on the inside, you might say. It's been over a decade---almost two (when did I get this old?)---but typing this just now, I'm getting rather emotional. I miss her. I love celebrating her in this way, at Easter time, anticipating the Great Resurrection when one day I'll see her again.

"The Hope of Resurrection" 

Though I have watched so many mourners weep
O'er the real dead, in dull earth laid asleep—
Those dead seemed but the shadows of my days
That passed and left me in the sun's bright rays.
Now though you go on smiling in the sun
Our love is slain, and love and you were one.
You are the first, you I have known so long,
Whose death was deadly, a tremendous wrong.
Therefore I seek the faith that sets it right
Amid the lilies and the candle-light.
I think on Heaven, for in that air so dear
We two may meet, confused and parted here.
Ah, when man's dearest dies,'tis then he goes
To that old balm that heals the centuries' woes.
Then Christ's wild cry in all the streets is rife:—
"I am the Resurrection and the Life."

--Vachel Lindsey

That's not in the Bible?! Re-Reading Three Stories You Thought You Knew

We are all products of our environment.  Families, friends, neighborhoods, religious fellowships, and media influence us in more ways than we can possibly understand.

One small but telling example of this is in the way many people (including Christians) remember Bible stories.  We would all like to believe that our knowledge of the Bible or any other religious text is based on things we have actually read, understood, and filed away.  But oftentimes, the stories we remember come from a host of influences, and are different from what the text actually says.  Here are three surprising examples of Bible-story elements which you might have had wrong all this time:

1. Noah was not Mocked by Anyone while Building the Ark
Thanks to Darren Aronofsky's recent movie Noah, the great biblical shipbuilder is back in the news.  Many Christians have gotten upset about all of the artistic liberties that Aronofsky has taken with the text.  What many Bible-readers don't realize is that they themselves have often taken liberties with the text, including one common story element - the presence of mockers while Noah built the ark.  Go read Genesis, chapters 6-7.  You won't find any mention of anyone saying anything to Noah during the time he was building.  Might there have been mockers?  Likely.  But the text doesn't directly support it.

P.S. - The text also says that there were more than 2 of many animals, including 14 of many kinds of livestock and birds.

2. There were no Wise Men or Magi at the Manger
Despite what every nativity scene in the whole world depicts, there were no magi/wise men at the manger the night Jesus was born.  Shepherds, yes.  Angels, yes.  Cows, probably.  But Magi - nope.  Matthew 2 says:

"After Jesus was born in Bethlehem...wise men from the east came...and behold, the star that they had seen when it rose went before them until it came to rest over the place where the child was. When they saw the star, they rejoiced...and going into the house they saw the child."

By the time the Magi show up, Mary and Joseph had apparently had enough time to move out of the manger and find a more suitable temporary living space in a small house or dwelling.  If you consider that later in Matthew 2, Herod decides to kill all baby boys under the age of 2 in Bethlehem, it is possible that the Magi may not have arrived until Jesus was a toddler.

P.S. - The Bible never says that there were 3 Magi.  It mentions three gifts - gold, frankincense, and myrrh - but never says how many Magi.

3. Jesus did Not Enter Jerusalem During his "Triumphal Entry"
You know the story about how on the Sunday before Passover, Jesus entered the gates of Jerusalem riding a donkey, and the people cried "Hosanna!" and they laid palm branches and cloaks at his feet.  Well, the part about him entering Jerusalem didn't actually happen.  In Luke 19, we find Jesus telling his disciples to acquire a donkey and colt from the village of Bethphage, outside of Jerusalem.  When the people greet him as he rides, he is near Bethphage, or on a small country road around there.  Then, he approaches Jerusalem and weeps over it from afar.  THEN, he enters Jerusalem and goes directly to the temple, where he proceeds to clean house.  The "triumphal entry" was actually quite humble, and was more of an approach than an entry into Jerusalem.

P.S. - You might hear on Easter morning that the same people who cried "Hosanna!" the Sunday before Passover were crying "Crucify him!" before the end of the week.   It's a common sermon example of how human hearts can be fickle (which is true!).  But, because these two events happened in different places, it's very unlikely that there were any people (outside of Jesus and the disciples traveling with him) who were in both places at all, much less likely that the same people changed their minds on something so crucial, so quickly.

CONCLUSION
What can we learn from realizing that we've had stories wrong all our lives, stories which we thought we had all right?  I know what I have learned - that I can always stand to give my Bible another reading, another careful, focused, and close reading.  As we prepare for Easter, the highest Christian holiday of all, we could use a little bit less of our own concoctions, and a little bit more of what the Bible actually feeds us.

Holy Week Links

Every year at this time I ponder how little we emphasis Easter compared to most of our other holidays when Easter is in fact the only reason Christianity exists.  The Easter season should bring depths of reflection and joy to every Christian.  Hopefully these links will help inspire you towards those goals, and if you aren't a Christian give you an understanding of what this all means to Christians.

Background: A Primer on the Christian Calendar
This article from Biblegateway.com explains all the different days and times associated with Easter.  I grew up not celebrating many of these days, just Palm Sunday and Easter. Click this link to find out all the details.

Devotionals: Holy Week Devotionals
Check out these Holy Week devotionals from Willow Creek from 2013.  It will give you something to read through this upcoming week. Click this link to get started.

Talk: The Meaning of Easter
In this short talk N. T. Wright, Bishop of Durham, reflects on Easter.  I find it inspirational.




Song: How Deep the Father's Love for Us
This is one of my favorite songs and always reminds me of Easter and the resurrection.

Stuart Townend talks about writing this song in the video below:



You can listen to the song here:




Skit: Good Friday Video
A video from the Skit Guys that really 'brings to life' the hours before Christ's death.  Check their site for more Holy Week related videos also.

Thinking through Liturgy

It's Holy Week. A good time to talk liturgy.

lit·ur·gy   [lit-er-jee]  

1. a form of public worship; ritual.

2. a collection of formularies [namely, the Book of Common Prayer] for public worship.

3. a particular arrangement of services.

4. a particular form or type of the Eucharistic [Communion] service.

Whenever I say (to fellow Christians) “I go to an Anglican church,” I usually get one of three responses: a blank stare, a look of worry, and/or a look of pity. As I go on to explain why the liturgical services are so meaningful to me, I often get some variation of the following statement: “Well, at least someone isn’t just going through the motions.”

And that seems to pretty much sum up what most non-liturgical church-going folk (except for a handful of intellectuals, artists, and Millennials) believe about liturgy and the people who attend liturgical churches. The sentiment essentially implies that people in liturgical churches are spiritual automatons who have never opened their Bible and whose faith is dead or non-existent. This is simply not true of the people I know, and it seems to derive in part from a romanticized view of reality––it has to be spontaneous to be genuine.

Of course there are people in liturgical churches of whom such a description would be accurate. But is that really different from those who sit in non-liturgical churches every Sunday who have never opened their Bibles? Who tune out the sermon with hard hearts? Who don’t know Jesus? They too are merely going through the motions. The motions are just different.

Let’s pause to look again at the definition of liturgy.

lit·ur·gy  

1. a form of public worship; ritual.

2. a collection of formularies [namely, the BCP] for public worship.

3. a particular arrangement of services.

4. a particular form or type of the Eucharistic [Communion] service.

Consider how all four definitions, especially one and three, are broad enough to denote, or refer to, all churches. All churches have a largely regular order of service and a particular way of practicing the rite (or ritual) of Communion. In a typical Southern Baptist church, for example, congregants participate in Communion once a quarter, and the order of service, or liturgy, might look something like this:

• Introductory Song
• Call to Worship
• 3 additional Worship Songs (2 contemporary, 1 hymn)
• Prayer
• Sermon 
• Offertory
• Alter Call
• Announcements
• Dismissal Song

The church calendar might revolve around Fall Festivals, Christmas choir practices, VBS, and monthly potluck dinners rather than Advent, Epiphany, Lent, and Pentecost. The difference, then, seems to be between an informal liturgy---where church members are generally less intentional about, or even aware of, the patterns of their public worship---and a formal one, where such patterns are highlighted.

I come from a non-liturgical background, so I understand where the fear of words like ritual and liturgy comes from. Most folks who express such fears either grew up in Catholic experiences with an orthopraxis (theological understanding and everyday practice) that tied certain rites to salvation (which is not to say all Catholic experiences are thus), or they grew up in Protestant heritages with little to no exposure to any formal liturgy. The latter fear liturgy because they have heard one narrative of the dangers of liturgy and have no other context for thinking about it.

We all have liturgical rhythms and patterns and habits that form the function of our spiritual lives. And we need them! The world has patterns, or liturgies, that direct our hearts toward worship too, but not worship of the One True God. If we do not actively participate in patterns (liturgies) counter to those of this world, we will fall into worldly patterns. This is partly why being intentional about liturgical forms of the church is helpful to me.

Here’s why I like a formal liturgy.

1. I need institutions that “make me” do stuff that’s good for me that I’d rather be lazy about and not do.
   
   There are some people who are super disciplined and self-motivated. That’s not me. I come across that way because I am highly motivated by achievement, but the truth is I’ve always been a part of programs or groups that provide structure, encouragement, and exhortation.
   
   What sports teams and writing groups and academic coursework do for my exercising, writing, and reading, liturgy does for my spirit and my relationship with God.
   
   The church helps me be more intentional about preparing myself to meet with Jesus. Often on a Sunday morning several people can be found kneeling in prayer before the service as a way of preparing the heart and focusing the mind. I've started doing this, and I've noticed a difference.

2. Liturgy is holistic: heart, mind, body.
   
   The position of our bodies often shapes the condition of our minds and hearts. Each Sunday my knees bend to bear the weight of my body upon the worn, padded kneeler. Kneeling in the pew week to week, my heart is readier to kneel, to submit, and the dull ache in my knees is a gentle reminder that the Christian life is to be a sacrificial life. 
   
   “High” churches also typically have an appreciation for “high” art; which is essential to Christianity and the Gospel. Art speaks not only to the “public part of us that considers interesting thoughts about the Gospel and how to preach it,” as one of my favorite writers puts it; but to “the private, inner part too, to the part of us all where our dreams come from, both our good dreams and our bad dreams, the inner part where thoughts mean less than images, elucidation less than evocation, where our concern is less with how the Gospel is to be preached than with what the Gospel is and what it is to us” (Frederick Buechner, Telling the Truth).
   
   

   

   Christ Church Plano
   Christmas Candlelight Service

   Where I worship Sunday mornings (pictured above), the architecture is designed to point us to the cross. The sanctuary is built in the shape of the cross, at the center of which is a beautiful cross with different colored stained glass in its circular center (different colors for different seasons of the Church calendar). I cannot tell you how many times I am compelled to physically look to the cross during the service, to dwell on the cross, to take comfort there. I cannot tell you how many times my eyes blur with tears of joyous relief and gratitude.
   
   The choir is remarkably talented and their voices come, literally, behind ours, lifting and supporting the heart song of the congregation throughout the beautiful sanctuary built with acoustics in mind. On the anniversary of 9.11, the choir sang a requiem in Latin that spoke to my soul about that tragedy more than anything else that day (even though I don't know any Latin).
   
   These are just a few examples of how my whole self is ministered to during a service. Another is...
    
3. Communion every week.
   
   The Eucharist is a physical reminder of who I am. I belong to Christ. I am a member of his Church (I am not alone) and his hands and feet to the world (I am not without purpose). The more I can be reminded of these truths the better.
   
   The weekly recitation of the Apostle’s Creed and the Lord’s Prayer serve as similar reminders of who I am (via what I say I believe) and to Whom I belong. My weeks are often more focused when they begin with "Thy Kingdom come; Thy will be done."

There’s more that I find spiritually enriching about liturgy, but that’s my top three. I’m not an expert on liturgy. This is just my story. But I hope it’s a story that can add to what I see as the limited conversation and misconceptions among many about formal liturgy.