[Rahab] said to the men: “I know that the Lord has given you the land, and that dread of you has fallen on us….” Joshua 2:9a (NRSV)
Wendy and I love the Internet Movie Data Base (IMDB) website and app. There’s hardly a movie or television show we watch that Wendy doesn’t have IMDB up on her phone looking at where we’ve seen that actor before and who that person was in that bit part.
When you think of the characters in the Great Story there are always the red carpet stars that everyone’s heard of: Adam, Noah, Moses, and David to name a few. As I’ve journeyed through God’s Message over the years I’ve gained more and more respect for some of the bit players, the role players, who get little press. We find one of these bit players in today’s chapter. Rehab is an unlikely hero whose presence is quietly woven throughout the Great Story. She is unlikely because she is a woman amidst a patriarchal society. She is a foreigner amidst the nation of Israel. And, Rahab is a prostitute; A morally fallen, socially unacceptable woman of the night amidst a rigidly puritanical people.
Rahab lived in the city of Jericho, and when Joshua sends two men to spy out the land, Rahab takes them in. She hides the spies and throws the Jericho security forces off their trail. She takes a leap of faith. “I know the Lord has given you the land,” she says, adding “The Lord your God is indeed God in heaven above and on earth below.”
For her faith, Rahab and her family were spared. Rehab would be adopted into the people of Israel, but her role does not end there. She would eventually marry and when you read through the fine print of Jesus’ genealogy in Matthew’s biography, you’ll find Rahab there. Rahab, the foreign prostitute who has a line of descendants that reads like a who’s who of starring roles in the Great Story including Boaz, Jesse, David, Solomon, and Jesus.
This morning I am reminded that there are those who get starring roles, and those unlikely heroes who faithfully play bit parts. God honors them both.
“I hereby command you: Be strong and courageous; do not be frightened or dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go.” Joshua 1:9 (NRSV)
Wendy and I drove home from the lake yesterday. It was Sunday morning and we obviously were not going to make it to worship, so we pulled up the audio of last week’s message from our local group of Jesus’ followers. Tim Heerma did a great job with the message and, at one point, he spoke about fears and how they keep us from doing what we’re supposed to be doing. “If you are focused on your fears,” he said (I’m paraphrasing) “you will bury your talent.” Wendy and I both gave an impromptu, “Wow” at that moment. Tim’s point landed with impact on us.
After listening to the entire message, Wendy and I spent a good bit of time talking. Out of our conversation came the recognition that fear and anxiety are two of evil’s most commonly used (and effective) weapons against any who would endeavor to do what God has purposed. Jesus repeatedly said to his followers “do not be afraid.”
Our discussion then meandered down a conversational path in which Wendy shared some of her current anxieties. “I keep asking God for some assurance,” she said regarding one of the things we’ve felt God purpose for us, “but it’s not coming.” The result, I observed, were questions, doubts, fears, and anxiety about long-term consequences.
We then spent some time having a conversation with God and reminiscing all of the amazing ways we’ve been led right to where we find ourselves on life’s road. We looked back and recounted some of the unbelievable experiences of God’s prompting, guidance and provision that dot the path behind us. We recommitted ourselves to trusting God for whatever was necessary to play out the roles and purposes to which we’ve been called.
Ironically, we begin this morning at the start of the story of Joshua. Joshua and the people of Israel find themselves standing at a crossroads before the River Jordan. God is calling them to cross the river and take possession of the land. Like a coach in the locker room before the big game, God gives the newly appointed leader, Joshua, a much-needed pep-talk. What Joshua has been purposed to do is a huge task that will require generous doses of active faith. The enemy’s defensive strategy comes from a well-worn and effective playbook: fear and anxiety.
Four times God says to Joshua: “Be strong and courageous.” Strength will be required to overcome the onslaught of fear which will be unleashed against him. Courage will be necessary to relinquish the doubts and anxieties that will most assuredly flank the fear.
This morning, I am thinking about Wendy and me standing at our own version of the Jordan River and the purposes to which we, like Joshua, are called. I am recalling all of the fears and anxieties we discussed yesterday. As I read God’s pep-talk to Joshua, I am hearing God whisper: “This is for you, too. It is as much for you as it was for Josh. Be strong and courageous.”
Happy first day of Spring everyone! Wendy and I came down to the lake on Friday morning. It’s our first trip down together this year and it’s nice to think about warmer days and fun that’s ahead this summer. I’ve enjoyed a little spring break this week from blogging, though a getaway wasn’t really in the cards for us this year.
Click on this banner to order tickets online. This is a great show for date night or a small group outing. I promise you’ll love it!
We’ve been busy in rehearsals for Almost, Maine. It’s been a really fun show and we’re looking forward to performances in a few weeks (Apr 14-17… seriously, you need to come to this show!). It’s a small cast of really talented folks who have been working hard to make it a stellar production. One of the things I’ve learned over the years is that every production has a personality of its own. While its fun to be in the big musical productions with tons of people, there is a certain amount of stress and chaos that grows in measure with the number of people involved. So, it’s nice to experience a show with a smaller cast of focused adults. Wendy and I have been loving this group of people and we’re really excited about the challenges and what we see developing on stage. This will be a great date night at the theatre or the perfect evening out for your small group or social group. Put it on your calendar. Make it happen. You won’t regret it.
One of the scenes in Almost, Maine takes place in the mythical town’s pub, The Moose Paddy, in which there is a party being thrown for one of the ladies in the small town. Our director, Kevin McQuade, wanted to create some ambient sound effects for the scene. It just so happens that a new craft beer pub opened in Pella a few weeks ago, so we ended rehearsal early on the night of the local pub’s grand opening and ventured over. We gathered in a corner of the pub and set up a microphone. Kevin handed out some loosely scripted conversations and we made a recording amidst the din of the festive environment. I can’t wait to hear how it sounds with the scene. It’s going to be a lot of fun.
It’s the season of Lent and our church put together a community service project packaging meals for the hungry through Meals From the Heartland. Wendy’s dad has been involved with the group in recent years and organized some packaging events in the Boone and Ames area. He even traveled to Africa and helped distribute meals a few years ago. Wendy and I put in a shift last weekend. It’s a pretty amazing operation. We worked with a team of nine people. Wendy held a bag into which a vitamin packet was placed. She then put it under a funnel. Three of us, in turn, poured in measured amounts of dried vegetables, soy protein and rice. The bag is then handed to another two team members who weigh the bag and add rice to bring it to the prescribed weight. The bags are then sealed by another team member, laid out and counted by and another, and then packaged in a box and sealed. Another team of volunteers constantly moved around the various packaging teams to replenish our bins of supplies and the church had energetic music cranked which made it a festive environment. Pretty amazing the thousands of meals we were able to package in a short time.
It was St. Patty’s Day this past Thursday, which we celebrated at the previously mention new brew pub in town, The Cellar Peanut Pub. It’s been quite a hit and the place was packed for the annual wearin’ o’ the green celebration. The McQuades picked Wendy and me up and chauffeured us into town. The local theatre community was well represented that night and we ran into a number of friends and neighbors. It was a really enjoyable evening. The pub serves just drinks and peanuts (you throw the shells on the floor), but you can bring in your own food. We ordered pizza from George’s across the street to enjoy with the 50 different craft beers (most of them local Iowa brews) on tap.
Our daughter, Madison, made her move to Columbia, South Carolina a week ago. There’s a lot of transition in her life right now. Just a day or so before moving she bought a new (used) car, had a trailer hitch installed, and then packed up all her possessions for the long cross-country haul. Her boyfriend, Matt, accompanied her on the drive and then flew back to Colorado. They broke up the 24 hour drive by stopping at the lake and spending the night at the Playhouse. Madison has a nice apartment in an old house near the USC campus and has already been busy with her job at Laura Geller cosmetics.
I had a strange event this week when I got a message on Facebook from Dr. Bob Leonard asking me if Taylor was our daughter and if he thought she would be open to an interview for KNIA/KRLS radio. After few more exchanged messages I found out that Bob had wrestled at UNI with the founder of the Catholic Worker community in Des Moines and he reads their newsletter. Taylor had written an article for the newsletter (“I didn’t think anyone actually reads it,” she confessed to me later), and Dr. Bob wanted to interview her about her experiences. I don’t know if it’s actually happened.
Taylor continues her life as nanny, ghost writer, and entrepreneur in Des Moines. Her experiences in the Catholic Worker Community continue to entertain and challenge her. There was a gang shooting in their neighborhood a week or so ago and bullets hit one of the Catholic Worker houses a couple doors down from where Taylor lives. She called and wanted us to know about it before we saw it on the news. It was an isolated incident and she said that she wasn’t too concerned. The police stepped up patrols in the area.
Suzanna movin’ out and movin’ on!
Another transition happened for us in the past few weeks as Wendy’s sister, Suzanna, made the decision to quit school in Cedar Falls and to move back home with her folks in Ankeny. She is working at a book store and trying to decide next steps on her own journey. Wendy’s mom came down to Pella with Suzanna to pack up her things and move them to Ankeny. Suzanna has been with us for two and a half years and it was a bit strange to have her move on, but we’re really proud of how much she has grown. We’re excited to see where life takes her.
Pre-Show Bevy at the Guthrie!
So, Wendy and I are truly empty nesters once again. Work has been keeping us busy. I had a quick business trip to the Twin Cities last week and Wendy joined me. We took the opportunity to see a show at the Guthrie Theater (The Critic and The Real Inspector Hound) this past Sunday afternoon. I then worked on-site with our client on Monday and Tuesday while Wendy worked in the hotel room. We buzzed back home on Tuesday evening. I’ve arranged my travel schedule to be home the next few weeks until Almost, Maine is over. As soon as the show closes I’ll hit the road for a week.
Worship in the Auditorium
I’ve been asked to step up my role in the auditorium services at Third Church starting in April. For the past couple of years the church has been growing a team of lay teachers and I’ve been helping to train and mentor them. I’ve been preaching every 6-8 weeks or so. Starting in April I’m going to “anchor” the teaching team and will begin giving the Sunday message every fourth week or so. We’re beginning a series going through the Gospel of Mark starting on April 17th. I’ll update my schedule on my Upcoming Performances and Appearances page for anyone interested.
Co Cyclones!
It’s been a nice trip to the lake, even though the weather has not been particularly nice. We went into Osage last night and watched Iowa State beat Little Rock in the round of 32 of the NCAA tournament while having a bite at Buffalo Wild Wings. Wendy and I will pack up and head home after breakfast this morning so we can get settled and prepare for the week ahead.
The other night Wendy and I were sitting on the couch watching television and working.
“When they market a movie as ‘inspirational’ it makes me not want to see it,” Wendy mused. “If Hollywood would make movies in which things don’t turn out the way you want and call it ‘inspirational’ then I might want to see it.”
I can think of a movie or two that fit the description of what m’love is talking about, but there are precious few. I get where she’s coming from. Life is regularly messy, and it is more often unfair. Things don’t always work out as we had hoped and planned, and at times the cards are stacked against us before life even begins by people whose decisions we did not control.
In 1998 I was given a great gift when a friend offered to fly me and some other guys to Dublin for a long “guys” weekend. Something awoke in my soul that weekend. Something that had lain dormant sprung to life and my life has never been quite the same. I had long been told by my mother that this little Dutch boy had Scotch-Irish genes, but I didn’t really know how or from whom. It turns out to be quite a story that began with a sixteen year old girl named Malinda Jane Helmick, known as Lenna.
The year was 1881 and Lenna’s father had died four years earlier. Her widowed mother had worked desperately to keep the family farm going. Older siblings had married and moved on. There was just Lenna and her younger sister, Maggie, left at home. Times were hard. Lenna’s mother surprised the teen one day, and it was not a pleasant surprise. She told Lenna that she had hired her out to a family who lived miles away on a farm near Melrose, Iowa. Feeling like an unwanted burden to her mother, Lenna was forced to move what seemed in impossibly long distance to be a servant on the farm of John and Elizabeth McCoy.
The McCoy farm was run by the aging John and his bachelor son, David Thomas McCoy who, at the time, was 34. There were four other sons and a daughter who had all grown and moved on. Lenna’s life with the McCoys was hard. She was up early to cook the family breakfast. She cooked and cleaned throughout the day. She emptied, daily, the family’s commodes and chamber pots. She cleaned up after the evening meal and wasn’t finished with her work until late each evening. Lenna was given one day off every two weeks, and a few hours each Sunday morning to attend church.
On top of the long hours and hard work, Lenna’s life was made miserable by Mrs. McCoy. Elizabeth McCoy was an angry, cantankerous woman, partially invalid, and impossible to please. Lenna had the daily burden of trying to make Mrs. McCoy comfortable and to wait on her hand and foot amidst her regular chores. If Mrs. McCoy was hot Lenna was asked to open all the windows in the house. A short time later Mrs. McCoy would be cold and Lenna would have to close the windows and heat up a water bottle to warm the woman back up.
Lenna’s days off and occasional breaks from work afforded her little pleasure. She was stuck on the farm with no transportation and no place to go. She spent her free time walking in the woods near the McCoy farm. It was during these walks that she began to meet with and enjoy conversation with the McCoy’s bachelor son, David, who was almost 20 years her senior. Over time the man pledged his love to Lenna, promising to marry her and, together, take over the family farm. He simply had to get his mother’s blessing, he said. That blessing would never come. Elizabeth McCoy hated Lenna, looked down on her, and would never allow her son to marry a lowly servant.
Life is messy, and it happened that after one of Lenna and David’s dates in the woods near the farm that Lenna became pregnant. She thought that this would force David to stand up to his mother and claim her has his bride, but instead Elizabeth McCoy flatly forbade her son from marrying Lenna and dismissed the teen from her service before she began to show. David promised to take care of Lenna and the baby, but he would not marry her over his mother’s objections.
Lenna had few options and begged her married sister, Lou, to take her in. Lou and her husband lived in the town of Tracy, Iowa. They took Lenna in out of “Christian charity” but she would no longer be considered a sister. Lenna would, in her fallen state, simply be a household servant relegated to waiting on her sister’s family just as she had waited on the McCoys. Fearing that the community would discover the truth, Lou and her husband forbade Lenna from being seen in public. When guests came to their house they demanded Lenna stay out of sight. It was in that home that Lenna gave birth to a son, and named him David, after his father.
Lenna continued to correspond with David McCoy and he continued to make promises. He pledged to marry her one day and make everything right. The promises, however, remained hollow. McCoy moved from Iowa to Nebraska, then to Missouri, and then back to Iowa. Lenna soon owned up to the realization of just how empty McCoy’s promises had always been and would always be. She met a local farmer of German descent named Jacob Miller Yeater and the two were married. Yeater understood Lenna’s circumstances and agreed to raise Lenna’s son as his own. No legal papers were filed. Lenna simply began to call her son Oscar William Yeater, and the boy grew up completely ignorant of the real story of his birth.
Jacob Miller Yeater and Malinda Jane Helmick Yeater with son William, and daughter, Chloie.
It was many years later that Will, now an adult and newly married, discovered his parents marriage certificate as he was going through some papers. He did the math and saw that they were married two years after his birth. Despite nagging misgivings about his true identity, Will chose to deny the dates as a simple typographical error. Years later it was his father, Jacob Yeater, in a temperamental rage because Will’s young wife rebuffed his sexual advances, who revealed to Will the scandalous story of his illegitimate birth.
L-R David T. McCoy, Moses McCoy and Robert McCoy
Will would eventually meet and confront David McCoy about being his father. McCoy did not deny it, but told Will that he would never confess to it in public and he would never accept Will as his son. McCoy’s brothers, however, knowing the true story, showed kindness to the young man. When David McCoy passed away as a confirmed bachelor, he left his estate to two of his siblings. Will sued for his rightful share of the estate, publicly revealing that he had been the illegitimate son of David Thomas McCoy. The scandalous story was front page news in the Chariton, Iowa newspapers, and Will’s family was humiliated. In the end, the paternity was established when the court forced an aging Lenna Yeater to travel to Chariton from Missouri and confess the truth of her early transgressions in open court. The court awarded Will one half of the McCoy estate, then promptly took it away to cover unpaid child support to his estranged wife.
William Oscar Yeater was my great-grandfather. He had a rough life, and I have merely scratched the surface of the full tragedy in this post. Will was haunted by a past that seemed to resist any kind of redemption or reconciliation. Will was a broken man, and he made many foolish choices. He was not fondly remembered by family members. Stories about him were rare and always spoken in hushed, hurried words. Will’s wife, Daisy, struggled to love him well and suffered deeply from his many failings. She married him, twice. All that Will put her through would help to transform her into the hallowed martyr and matriarch she became to her many descendants.
I did not know this story until I was well into adulthood with children of my own. I was, perhaps, near the same age as Will when he discovered the truth about himself. I was given a great gift to visit Dublin and it was there my dormant Irish genes woke within me. When I returned home I began to investigate my Irish roots and my exploration led me to meet Lenna Helmick and her son, Will Yeater, the bastard son of an Irishman named David Thomas McCoy. I am the heir of illegitimate Irish genes. Somehow, that makes them feel legitimately more Irish.
Lenna Helmick’s Cinderella story did not have a happy ending, neither would her son’s. Life is regularly messy, and it is more often unfair. Things don’t always work out as we had hoped and planned, and at times the cards are stacked against us before life even begins by people whose decisions we did not control. Few of us get an ending that Hollywood would market as “inspirational.” That does not, however, make them bad stories. It does not mean that we cannot find inspiration in the midst of their tragedy. Joy is not always a natural by-product of circumstance. Sometimes joy emerges only from careful and deliberate consideration. That was Wendy’s point the other night on the couch. She was right, as she so often is. Wendy knows the truth of it.
Happy St. Patrick’s Day from the heir of illegitimate Irish genes.
I have a pipe dream of someday starting an Irish folk band. We will be “The Bastard Sons of McCoy.”
(Note for regular readers: I’ve been taking a little time off for spring break this week. Regular posts will resume next week)
Here in the heartland of America, in the great state of Iowa, we have been experiencing an early spring. It’s March Madness, which is usually a time when we receive the final blast of winter’s fury. The state high school girl’s basketball tournament is mythically synonymous with “blizzard.” But not this year.
The temperatures have been unseasonably warm. The tulips are already shooting up from the earth. We’ve already used the grill on the patio multiple times. The sounds of Cubs baseball is becoming daily ambient audio here at Vander Well Manor, even if it is just spring training.
There is something exciting about spring. The death of winter gives way to new life in spring. We celebrate the journey from gave to empty tomb. Shivering in the cold yields to basking in the sun’s warmth. Resurrection, hope, and joy are kindled in our souls, reminding us that old things pass away and new things are coming.
How apt, I thought, that in this morning’s chapter we find Zephaniah’s predictions of doom and gloom giving way to hope and salvation. And, amidst the hopeful promises God gives through the ancient prophet is the simple phrase “I will bring you home.” That phrase has so much meaning for me in so many layers:
As I care for aging parents and grieve the “home” that I once knew.
As I watch our girls spread their wings and scatter to their respective paths and realize the “home” that I have so recently known and loved has suddenly gone the way of winter in an early spring.
As I come home from three long days working with clients to find Wendy waiting at the door for me with a cold beer, hot meatloaf, and a warm kiss; realizing in that moment the home that I am so blessed to experience each day, right now.
As I wax poetic in my annual giddiness for baseball season and ponder anew the game in which the goal is to arrive safely home.
“I will bring you home,” God says through Zephaniah.
I have been making my plodding, repetitive trek through God’s Message for 35 years. One of the fascinating things I’ve experienced is the way in which it always seems to meet me right where I am on life’s road. The Message doesn’t change, but I change and my waypoint in the journey changes each time I return to a book, chapter, or verse. I get something new out of it each time.
Like most Americans, I’m finding myself caught off guard by our current political landscape. I’ve never experienced anything like it in and find myself daily scratching my head at the headlines and Presidential polls. A trash-talking, ego-driven reality t.v. celebrity who says things that would get any middle schooler running for Student Council expelled is one of our leading candidates. Amazing.
Perhaps that is why Zephaniah’s admonishment leapt off the page at me this morning. I acutely feel a desire to find more individuals on every gradient of the political spectrum who honestly and sincerely are seeking to do the right thing while at the same time seeking humility in their quest. It’s easy to find arrogance. It’s easy to find insults hurled at others. It’s easy to find trash talking and people screaming at each other (at the same time) from opposite sides of the issues. We have these things in abundance.
Today, what I seek are individuals willing to have respectful dialogue, willing to humbly listen to other opinions, willing to agree to disagree, and willing to hammer out compromises. Of course, I cannot control Presidential candidates or news channels or others. I can only control my own thoughts, words, actions and relationships. So I will continue to seek to do the right thing, and persevere in choosing humility.
“That day will be a day of wrath, a day of distress and anguish, a day of ruin and devastation, a day of darkness and gloom, a day of clouds and thick darkness….” Zephaniah 1:15 (NRSV)
Wendy and I start most mornings with coffee, breakfast and the newspaper. We read through the news and discuss world events. We talk about the elections and the latest prognostications from modern-day prophets on the editorial pages. More often than not we chuckle at the horror, the doom, and the gloom that we find there.
There is something innately human about the way we flock to bad news. News outlets know that we, like lemmings, will be drawn and to blood (10 Dead in Latest Rampage) and fear (Study Shows Water Will Kill You). Publications on the left know that their readers are motivated by fear of the right (Ted Cruz Wants to Arm Babies!) and publications on the right know that readers are motivated by fear of the left (Hillary’s Secret E-mails Gave ISIS Our Nuclear Protocols!). What’s more, fear sells papers and draws viewers which generate advertising dollars. And fear creates lucrative financial opportunities (Do Cell Phones Breed Brain Worms? Congress Earmarks Funds for Research).
Be afraid. Be very, very afraid.
The ancient prophets were also doom and gloom-ers. Read today’s chapter and it’s enough to motivate a call to your physician for a prescription of Zoloft. The scenes of devastation that Zephaniah pictures are horrific, much like the scenes of devastation described by CBS Sunday Morning this past Sunday in their predictions of the earthquake, “The Big One,” that will someday hit the Pacific northwest.
The thing is, there is truth in the doom and gloom. Read the historic accounts of Judah’s siege and devastating defeat to the Babylonians and all of a sudden Zephaniah seems fairly prescient. When you think about 15,000 dead in the Japanese earthquake and tsunami five years ago, the predictive doom and gloom for Seattle and Portland become more than mere yellow journalism.
History is full of tragedy, destruction, war, famine, suffering, and death. It has always been part of the human experience and it always will. The question is not whether bad things will happen but how I will respond when they do. I can obsess in fear about what might happen in the future, or I can be wise in how I walk life’s journey on this day. I can choose to focus on anxiety-producing “what ifs” regarding tomorrow, or I can choose to focus on being a person of love, joy, peace, patience, and kindness today.
This morning, on this day, I am focused on Jesus’ words:
“Give your entire attention to what God is doing right now, and don’t get worked up about what may or may not happen tomorrow. God will help you deal with whatever hard things come up when the time comes.” Matthew 6:34 (MSG)
[Jesus] said to [Peter] the third time, “Simon son of John, do you love me?” Peter felt hurt because he said to him the third time, “Do you love me?” And he said to him, “Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Feed my sheep.” John 21:18 (NRSV)
In the final chapter of John’s biography of Jesus, he wraps up a few loose ends. Before Jesus’ crucifixion, we’d left Peter in the courtyard of the High Priest as the cock was crowing. Peter, as Jesus predicted, denied he was associated with Jesus three times.
One can only imagine the shame that Peter felt. He had not only been one of the twelve followers Jesus called to be disciples, but he had also been part of Jesus’ inner circle along with James and John. Peter was a recognized leader of the group and even Jesus had indicated that Peter was to play a crucial role in Jesus’ plan.
How fascinating to find Peter back home, back in his boat, and back to his old trade. I can imagine the conversation among Jesus’ followers. “What do we do now?” they ask behind locked doors of Jerusalem. Peter is supposed to be leading. Peter is supposed to be taking of the keys of God’s kingdom and unlocking hearts. But shame hovers over Peter’s own heart and mind like a black wall cloud.
“I’m a failure,” I hear Peter whispering to himself. “I blew it,” he mutters, “Just like Jesus knew I would. Some leader I am. I disqualified myself. ” Peter looks at the others. They’ll never follow him now, anyway, he muses. “Pick another leader from among yourselves,” he says to them. “I’m going home. Back to Galilee. Back to my boat and my nets.” Peter throws in the towel.
But Jesus wasn’t finished with Peter. The risen Jesus follows to Galilee and meets Peter right where he is. This is also right where it all started. This is the same place Jesus first encountered the brash fisherman and called him to follow.
Three times Jesus asks Peter the same question, “Do you love me?”
Three times Peter answers, “Yes.”
Three affirmations of love trump three denials. Love conquers. Love beats shame. Love wins.
This morning I’m thinking about my own shame and feelings of failure and inadequacy. I’m thinking about my own feelings of being disqualified from what Jesus has called me to do. When Jesus asks Peter, “Do you love me?” I hear the question in my own heart.
“Yes,” my heart whispers in response. “You know I do.”
“Then, get on with it,” I hear God’s Spirit answer back.
Jesus said to [Thomas], “Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.” John 20:29 (NRSV)
It is the most startling claim of all of the startling claims that were made about Jesus. The One who cured lepers, cast out demons, made the lame walk and the blind to see. The One who raised a little girl from her deathbed and called Lazarus out of his tomb. This Jesus, whose beaten, tortured, and crucified body had lain dead and lifeless in the grave since Friday afternoon, is resurrected on Sunday morning and appears numerous times to different followers, including a sudden appearance behind locked doors to show his wounds as proof to a doubting Thomas.
There are many over the centuries who appreciate Jesus’ teachings and example, but fall short of believing the miraculous claims about Him. Yet it was the surety of the resurrected Jesus that led His followers to burst out from their hiding behind locked doors to boldly proclaim the most audacious claim of all. Each one of Jesus’ inner circle who saw Jesus present Himself to a doubting Thomas behind those locked doors would later prove willing to travel to the ends of the known world, to suffer terribly at the hands of unbelievers, and to die horrific deaths in proclaiming that which they had heard with their own ears, seen with their own eyes, and touched with their own hands.
It is one thing to nod acknowledgement and appreciation toward Jesus’ Pinterest worthy sayings. It is another thing to truly believe that Jesus is who He claimed to be and who His closest followers proclaimed Him to be though it cost them their own lives. If you believe the audacious claim, then it requires something of you. It requires everything of you.
From then on Pilate tried to release him, but the Jews cried out, “If you release this man, you are no friend of the emperor. Everyone who claims to be a king sets himself against the emperor.” John 19:12 (NRSV)
Last night Wendy and I watched the end of the Presidential debate as we prepared for bed. It gave both of us a good laugh to watch seemingly intelligent people flip, flop, fib, and forestall. Amazing how so many people can evade so many direct questions. It does not matter what side of the political spectrum you lean. The truth is that both sides of the political spectrum will argue whatever is expedient to their momentary political need, even if it is 180 degrees from where they stood months or years ago when the political situation was reversed.
This is all fresh in my mind this morning as I read the chapter of Jesus’ trial before Pilate. Make no mistake. The entire series of kangaroo court trials that Jesus went through were political in nature. Jesus threatened the power of the Jewish religious leaders and their economic cash cow in the Jerusalem temple. The trials started at the home of Annas who was the father-in-law of the current High Priest, Caiaphas. There were two reasons for this private questioning. First, Annas was the power behind the throne. He was the Godfather, and Caiaphas was his puppet. Second, Caiaphas was quickly and dutifully trying to assemble a quorum of their tribunal body, the Sanhedrin, to render verdict on Jesus. Of course, this was all done in the middle of the night which was against their laws, but in Watergate like fashion they found it politically expedient to fudge those laws because they wanted this to be done quickly and out of the public eye. Caiaphas was, no doubt, stacking the quorum with those who leaned against Jesus politically.
The leaders had another problem. They wanted Jesus put to death, but they had no authority to do it under Roman rule. The Roman Empire was the occupying force in Palestine. They were the ultimate authority and Pilate, as the Roman Governor, was the only man who could legally give the order to execute Jesus. So, the Jewish leaders had two choices. One was to have Jesus assassinated, which risked huge social and political backlash given Jesus’ popularity. The other was to convince Pilate to crucify Jesus under Roman law. The problem with that was there was nothing Jesus had done that really mattered to the Romans.
Now the Jews hated the Romans the way any people hate any occupying force. The French and Dutch hated the Nazis when they were the occupying force in World War II. The Ukrainians hate the Russians right now. So, what is fascinating in today’s chapter is to watch the political machination the Jewish leaders make to the Roman Governor.
First, make the appeal and hopefully Pilate’s in a good mood and will do what we ask. “If he weren’t a criminal, we wouldn’t have brought him to you.” You can trust us, Pilate. Jesus is a bad guy. Just give the order.
But, after questioning, Pilate finds no reason to execute Jesus.
Next tactic, apply social pressure. Whip up the mob to convince Pilate that executing Jesus is the expedient thing to do. It was still early, remember, and the leaders had already been working for hours to assemble a sympathetic crowd of Jesus’ enemies. Make a big public demonstration. Make it loud. Chant. Threaten social unrest. The crowd begins to chant and shout for Jesus’ execution.
Pilate is scratching his head. This makes no sense, but the pressure is enough to prompt further questioning. He questions Jesus and still finds no reason to have him crucified. Pilate tries to give Jesus back to the Jewish leaders and give them permission to crucify the Nazarene themselves.
The Jewish leaders, however, know that it would be political suicide to kill Jesus themselves. Their poll numbers would plummet. The ignorant masses would turn against them. They had to have their enemy, Pilate, give the order. Pilate questions Jesus again. The Roman Governor recognizes that he is caught in a political trap. Jesus does not deserve death, but the leaders of the opposition could make his life hell if he doesn’t do what they want. Once again he pleads for Jesus release.
The Jewish leaders sense Pilate’s hesitation and fear things are going against them, so they make the argument “Jesus claimed to be King, so that is treason to the Roman Emperor.” This is ridiculous. The Jewish leaders didn’t care what Caesar thought or about treason against Rome. They’ve suddenly become Roman patriots? This is pure political expediency and it’s cunning. By making this accusation they are telling Pilate that they could appeal to Caesar and tell the Emperor that Pilate ignored a threat to Rome. When Pilate still seems unconvinced, the Jewish leaders go all in and pledge loyalty to their enemy: “We have no king but the emperor.”
Pilate was politically trapped and he knew it. He needed to keep the peace in Palestine at all costs and, reluctantly, he is compelled to make Jesus the sacrificial lamb to keep that peace.
Today I’m thinking about politics and elections and appointments and history. Jesus told Pilate that His kingdom was not of this world, and as a follower of Jesus I find myself constantly struggling with tension between two kingdoms. God both tells me to be mindful of, and obedient in, my citizenship in His kingdom and also my citizenship to the rulers and authorities I find myself under in this world. I look at the Presidential candidates across the entire ideological spectrum and perceive the entire lot are flippers, floppers, fibbers, and ego driven fakers.
