This week’s lectionary gospel (Mark 12:38-44) gives us the familiar story of the “widow’s mite.” Most times I’ve heard this preached as a story of immense generosity on the part of the widow – and we who are followers of Jesus are asked to go and do likewise, to give all we have, even to the point of giving our whole lives over to God. Of course, giving our whole lives is what Jesus does – and so we can make a connection between the widow’s example and Jesus’ own life, death, and resurrection – she becomes an example for us to emulate. Read more
I just want to get one thing out of the way before I write the rest of this meditation. I think it is imperative that we see ourselves as the tenants in the vineyard Jesus describes. It is clear at the end of the gospel that Jesus is addressing the Pharisees and scribes of his day – the ones who saw themselves as righteous and holy. I think that we Christians in the 21st century are now often the ones who see ourselves as righteous and holy. We mostly presume we are good people trying to do the right thing – and that can get in the way of hearing Jesus’ message to us in today’s parable.
With that in mind, let us consider this vineyard that the landowner has created. It is a carefully-planted vineyard with a tower, wine presses, and a fence around it. The owner has done as much preparation as he could to dedicate this space. Read more
This week’s gospel passage features that well-known statement of Jesus’: “Come to me, all you that are weary and carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.” Rest. That’s a difficult word for today’s society, because it’s not clear that what we mean by “rest” and what Jesus means are the same thing. Read more
Easter is a good time for doubt. It’s a time when people occasionally dare to ask the pointed questions: “Jesus was good and all, but – you don’t really think he rose from the dead, do you?” They want the truth – and rightly so.
So consider what it means to read the Gospels in terms of what is true. The passion narratives grip us, filled as they are with raw emotions and experiences. Like all good stories, they invite us in, and at the least we can probably admit that the emotions are likely to be true.
In my Roman Catholic tradition, we call this practice of putting ourselves into the story the “Ignatian Method” of reading – but I think that many Christians confronted by the pathos of Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection put themselves there at the cross naturally.
So at last week’s Passion Sunday service, when I heard Peter denying Jesus before the cock crowed three times, I thought, “Yup, I probably would have denied him too.” Read more