Lenten Reflection: Seven Letters

The following is the first in a series of reflections on the letters to the seven churches in Revelation.

For more reflections on these letters, check out the hub page for the series.

I share these thoughts hoping they are of help to someone else.

Comments are always welcomed.

If you find these thoughts helpful, please share.

Seven Letters

An Introduction

Then I turned to see whose voice it was that spoke to me, and on turning I saw seven golden lampstands, and in the midst of the lampstands I saw one like the Son of Man, clothed with a long robe and with a golden sash across his chest.  His head and his hair were white as white wool, white as snow; his eyes were like a flame of fire, his feet were like burnished bronze, refined as in a furnace, and his voice was like the sound of many waters.  In his right hand he held seven stars, and from his mouth came a sharp, two-edged sword, and his face was like the sun shining with full force.

When I saw him, I fell at his feet as though dead.  But he placed his right hand on me, saying, "Do not be afraid; I am the first and the last, and the living one.  I was dead, and see, I am alive forever and ever; and I have the keys of Death and of Hades."

Revelation 1:12-18 (NRSV)

Give me a revelation

Show me what to do

'Cause I've been trying to find my way

I haven't got a clue

Tell me, should I stay here?

Or do I need to move?

Give me a revelation

I've got nothing without You

From "Revelation" by Third Day

John has drawn the ire of the powers that be, as prophets are wont to do, and, as a result, he has been exiled to Patmos, an island off the coast of the area that will someday be known as Turkey.  I am referring not to John the Baptist or John the Apostle but rather to another prophet who will be remembered as John the Revelator.  The authorities have sought to put an end to his prophetic work, but, in the words of N.T. Wright, "Exile has given him time to pray, to reflect, and now to receive the most explosive vision of God's power and love."¹

One day, while on Patmos, John falls into a Spirit-induced trance, and he hears a loud voice behind him, commanding him to record in a book everything he is about to see and hear and to send it to seven churches on the mainland.  John turns around and sees seven lampstands.  Among them is standing an otherworldly Christ.  He has white hair, a radiant face, and eyes that shine like fire.  He is dressed in a long robe with a gold sash, and He has a sword in His mouth.  In His hand are seven stars.²

The seven lampstands among which Christ stands represent the seven churches in Asia Minor; the seven stars in His hand represent their pastors;³ and the book John will send them will later be known as the Book of Revelation, the last book in the Christian Bible.

Before John is shown anything, Christ dictates a message to each of the seven churches who will be receiving John's book.  These seven letters make up the second and third chapters of the Book of Revelation.

If you read these seven letters, you might notice that each of them follows a certain structure.  Each letter begins with an attribution to Christ, including some description of Him.  What follows is an assessment of the church's situation, which might include both positive and negative elements.  Next, there are instructions Christ wants the church to follow.  The letter concludes with the promise of a reward for those who faithfully follow Christ's instructions.  The letters include imagery found elsewhere the Book of Revelation.

Over the next six weeks, during the season of Lent, I will be posting a reflection on each of the letters to the seven churches in the Book of Revelation.  A new reflection will be posted every six days.  These reflections will not be scholarly; they will be my own personal reflections on the letters, though I will be drawing from some of the commentaries at my disposal, especially Revelation for Everyone by N.T. Wright.  The reflections will not be exhaustive, for I will probably focus on only one part of each letter.  The reflections will not be definitive, for there is always more to be written on any passage of Scripture.  That said, any comments, questions, or insights will be welcomed.

I owe a debt of gratitude to the TRAIL Class at Travelers Rest United Methodist Church, who will be journeying with me through the seven letters.  As I lead them in discussions on these letters and share my reflections with them, they will be providing me the accountability I need to ensure that these reflections are written.

Lent is a time of repentance.  As I've noted many times on this blog, the Greek word metanoia, which is translated into English as repentance, literally means "changing one's mind."⁴  Repentance then, is a change of mind and heart that works its way outward as a change of behavior.  I suspect that the letters to the seven churches will give us a number of things to rethink in our lives.


Notes:

1. N.T. Wright.  Revelation for Everyone.  2011, Westminster John Knox Press.  pp. 9-10
2. Revelation 1:9-16
3. Revelation 1:20
4. Wikipedia: "Metanoia"

The photograph of the stained-glass window was taken by Hans A. Rosbach at the Bourges Cathedral and is used under the Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported license.  The photographer is in no way affiliated with this blog.

Introspection: The Courage I Seek

I share these thoughts hoping they are of help to someone else.

Comments are always welcomed.

If you find these thoughts helpful, please share.

The Courage I Seek

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)

I keep fighting voices in my mind that say I'm not enough

Every single lie that tells me I will never measure up

Am I more than just the sum of every high and every low?

Remind me once again just who I am, because I need to know

From "You Say" by Lauren Daigle

As I've stated previously, I have decided to focus on cultivating courage this year.  The specific kind of courage I seek is not the kind of courage that would enable me to strap on a parachute and jump out of a plane or to attach a bungee cord to myself and jump off a bridge.  I can live a perfectly happy and fulfilling life without doing such things.  The kind of courage I seek is courage of the heart.  I want the courage to be myself, to put myself out there, to express my feelings for someone, to assert myself, to say things that need to be said, and to face criticism.  I want the courage to get myself unstuck in life.

Basically, the kind of courage I seek is the kind of courage marked by vulnerability.

When I completed The Authenticity Challenge last month, I did not know what the next step in my year of courage should be, so I decided to learn about the kind of courage I seek.  I know of no better person to teach me about vulnerability than Brené Brown.  A friend of mine recently mentioned Brown's book Daring Greatly, which I had started reading a few years ago, so I decided to start reading it again to see what it could teach me about the kind of courage I seek.

Brené Brown defines vulnerability as "uncertainty, risk, and emotional exposure."¹  These are the kind of things to which I have become adverse and the kind of things I want the courage to face.  Vulnerability is, according to Brown, "the birthplace of love, belonging, joy, courage, empathy, and creativity" and "the source of hope, empathy, accountability, and authenticity."²  "Vulnerability," she writes, "sounds like truth and feels like courage."³

If I am to cultivate the kind of courage I seek, I will need to embrace vulnerability.  Embracing vulnerability will mean becoming unguarded and opening myself up to the possibility of unpleasant things like failure, criticism, and rejection.  Brené Brown writes, regarding her own experience, "In a culture full of critics and cynics, I had always felt safer in my career flying right under the radar."⁴  I can certainly relate to her in this regard.  From time to time, I complain about the low number of page views my blog posts receive, yet, at the same time, I don't like promoting them.  I also tend to play it safe, withholding the thoughts I think might be more controversial out of fear of being eviscerated by people who are either more conservative or more progressive than I.

Brené Brown notes that three of the common forms of proverbial "armor" people use to protect themselves from vulnerability are "foreboding joy," perfectionism, and numbing.⁵  For me, these kinds of armor have taken the forms of assuming the worst, hiding my faults, and retreating into busyness, fantasies, and other distractions.

Last year, I focused on cultivating self-worth, and I've suspected that courage and self-worth might somehow be connected.  I've recently learned that I cannot be courageous without a stable sense of self-worth.  Brené Brown points out that, if a person does not have a stable sense of self-worth, then she might attach her self-worth to what she sets out to do.  Because her self-worth is dependent on her success, she will either be less willing to take risks or be personally devastated if the results are not what she hopes they are.⁶  Brown writes, "When our self-worth isn't on the line, we are far more willing to be courageous and risk sharing our raw talents and gifts."⁷

I confessed last year that I have a fear of dating.  The reason is that, in the past, I unknowingly attached my self-worth to my desirability, thereby allowing the romantic rejection I faced to negatively impact my self-worth.  Nowadays, I don't express any romantic interest in women because I don't want to feel like I'm worthless if they don't share my feelings.

Vulnerability - the willingness to face risk and exposure - and worthiness - the belief that one is enough - are two important components of what Brené Brown calls wholeheartedness.⁸  Brown found in her research that there is one key difference between people who experience love and belonging and people who don't: "Those who feel lovable, who love, and who experience belonging simply believe they are worthy of love and belonging."⁹  Basically, if I'm going to get myself unstuck and pursue what I want in life, I have to believe that I'm actually worthy of it.

I still struggle with worthiness.  For much of my journey of faith, I was not taught that I was worthy of anything good.  I was taught that, because I am a sinner, I am not worthy of anything but eternal suffering.  More recently, I have begun to think of my faith as a source of self-worth.  My friend Laura, who was my pastor for a number of years, still likes to remind me of my identity as a beloved child of God.

One of my favorite Bible stories is the Parable of the Prodigal Son.  In this story, a father has two sons.  The younger son requests his inheritance, moves far away from home, and squanders all he has.  Impoverished, he returns home and tries to apologize to his father.  The father won't listen to his son's apology because he is too busy planning a welcome-home party.  The older son, who has been working hard while his brother was out "living his best life," is angry that his father is treating his brother so graciously while seemingly ignoring his own hard work and faithfulness.¹⁰

The moral of the story is twofold.  The father in the story, of course, represents God.  His treatment of his rebellious younger son shows us that there is nothing bad we can do to make God love us less.  His treatment of his older son shows us that there is nothing good we can do to make God love us more.  Our identity and our worth are not up for debate.  We are children of God, whom God dearly loves.  Like any loving parent, God wants what is best for us, so we are indeed worthy of things like love and belonging.

Though I still struggle to believe that I'm worthy of the things I want in life, I do believe that I am no less worthy of them than anyone else who has them.  I suppose that my next step in my year of courage should be to start trusting that I am enough and to start doing some of the things I have been hesitant to do.  You will see one of these things on this blog in the coming weeks.

May you, dear reader, trust in your worth as a beloved child of God, and may this trust lead you to live courageously.


Notes:

1. Brené Brown.  Daring Greatly: How the Courage to Be Vulnerable Transforms the Way We Live, Love, Parent, and Lead.  2012, Gotham.  p. 34
2. ibid.
3. Brown, p. 37
4. Brown, p. 14
5. Brown, p. 117
6. Brown, p. 63
7. Brown, p. 64
8. Brown, p. 29
9. Brown, p. 11
10. Luke 15:11-32

The photograph of the plant growing through asphalt was taken by me in May 2016 in the driveway at my grandmother's house.

Perspective: Weddings, Patches, and Wineskins

I share these thoughts hoping they are of help to someone else.

Comments are always welcomed.

If you find these thoughts helpful, please share.

Weddings, Patches, and Wineskins

Some people said to Jesus, "The disciples of John fast often and pray frequently.  The disciples of the Pharisees do the same, but your disciples are always eating and drinking."

Jesus replied, "You can't make the wedding guests fast while the groom is with them, can you?  The days will come when the groom will be taken from them, and then they will fast."

Then he told them a parable.  "No one tears a patch from a new garment to patch an old garment.  Otherwise, the new garment would be ruined, and the new patch wouldn't match the old garment.  Nobody pours new wine into old wineskins.  If they did, the new wine would burst the wineskins, the wine would spill, and the wineskins would be ruined.  Instead, new wine must be put into new wineskins.  No one who drinks a well-aged wine wants new wine, but says, 'The well-aged wine is better.'"

Luke 5:33-39 (CEB)

Give me Your eyes for just one second

Give me Your eyes so I can see

Everything that I keep missing

Give me Your love for humanity

From "Give Me Your Eyes" by Brandon Heath

On one occasion, someone asks Jesus why His disciples are never seen fasting, while the religious leaders and even His predecessor John's disciples fast frequently.  Jesus responds with a series of interesting metaphors.

First, Jesus says, "You can't make the wedding guests fast while the groom is with them, can you?  The days will come when the groom will be taken from them, and then they will fast."  In Jesus' day, a wedding celebration was a week-long affair.  The newly married couple basically held court for a week, while their guests treated them like royalty; and there was a lot of eating and drinking.  These celebrations were important, not only to the newly married couple but also their community, because they gave people a joyful break from their otherwise difficult lives.  Rabbis went so far as to excuse people from any religious practice, like fasting, that might diminish their joy amid a wedding celebration.^1 2

One ancient sage claimed that "there's a season for everything and a time for every matter under the heavens," including "a time for mourning and a time for dancing."³  Jesus, by comparing himself to a groom, was suggesting that, for His disciples, it was currently a time for the latter.  God was doing something new through Him, and what God was doing through Him was, like a new marriage, a call for celebration - a time for feasting and not for fasting.

Next, Jesus says, "No one tears a patch from a new garment to patch an old garment.  Otherwise, the new garment would be ruined, and the new patch wouldn't match the old garment."  In some versions of this story, Jesus points out that, when the patch, which is made of new cloth, inevitably shrinks, it will tear away from the old garment, making the problem even worse.⁴

Basically, Jesus is saying that, when God calls us to something new, we might not be able to make it fit with what we're already doing.  To attempt to do so could be tantamount to destroying something brand new in order to fix or enhance something that might be better off discarded.  William Barclay writes, "There comes a time when the day of patching is over, and re-creating must begin...  It may well be that there are times when we try to patch, when what is wanted is the complete abandonment of the old and the acceptance of something new."⁵  When God is doing something new, it is time to let go of what has been.

Jesus then says, "Nobody pours new wine into old wineskins. If they did, the new wine would burst the wineskins, the wine would spill, and the wineskins would be ruined.  Instead, new wine must be put into new wineskins."  When Jesus speaks of new wine, he is referring to wine that has not fully undergone the fermentation process.  In Jesus' day, wine was stored in pouches made of animal skin.  As wine ferments, it gives off gas, so the wineskin that holds it needs to be able to stretch.  If wine ferments in an old, brittle wineskin, the wineskin will break.

Jesus is telling us that we need to have minds that can be stretched.  Barclay writes, "Jesus was perfectly conscious that he came to men and women with new ideas and with a new conception of the truth, and he was well aware how difficult it is to get a new idea into people's minds."⁶

Finally, Jesus says, "And no one after drinking old wine desires new wine, but says, 'The old is good.'"  Basically, He is saying that, like new wine, new ideas need to be given the opportunity to reach maturity.

Sadly, Christians are not known for being the most open-minded people in the world.  When Jesus, the one we claim to follow, began His public ministry, He said, "The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news."⁷  Repentance is not feeling badly about one's actions.  The Greek word translated into English as repentance is metanoia, which describes a change of mind that ultimately results in a change of action.⁸  Following Christ actually requires us to be open-minded.

May we keep our minds open and limber so that we may hear God's call for us today.


Notes:

1. William Barclay.  The New Daily Study Bible: The Gospel of Luke.  2001, Saint Andrew Press.  p. 79
2. William Barclay.  The New Daily Study Bible: The Gospel of Mark.  2001, Saint Andrew Press.  pp. 67-68
3. Ecclesiastes 3:1, 4 (CEB)
4. Matthew 9:16 and Mark 2:21
5. Barclay (Mark), p. 70
6. William Barclay.  The New Daily Study Bible: The Gospel of Matthew, Volume One.  2001, Saint Andrew Press.  pp. 389-390
7. Mark 1:15 (NRSV)
8. Wikipedia: "Metanoia (theology)"

The photograph featured in this perspective, which was taken by Pixabay user _Alicja_, has been released to the public domain.  The photographer is in no way affiliated with this blog.

Perspective: Two Stories of Calling

I share these thoughts hoping they are of help to someone else.

Comments are always welcomed.

If you find these thoughts helpful, please share.

Two Stories of Calling

Then I heard the Lord's voice saying, "Whom should I send, and who will go for us?"

I said, "I'm here; send me."

Isaiah 6:8 (CEB)

Here I am, Lord

Is it I, Lord?

I have heard You calling in the night

I will go, Lord

If You lead me

I will hold Your people in my heart

From "Here I Am, Lord" by Daniel Schutte

In the Gospel of Mark, we read that Jesus is walking by the Sea of Galilee, one day early in His ministry.  He spots two brothers, Simon and Andrew, who are fishing, and He says to them, "Come, follow me, and I'll show you how to fish for people."  Immediately, the two fishermen leave their nets in the sea and start following Him.  Jesus walks further along the seashore and spots two more fishermen, James and John, who are mending their nets with their father.  Jesus calls the two fishermen to follow Him, and immediately they leave their father and his fishing business behind and start following Him.¹

We read very similar stories in the Gospels of Matthew and Luke,² which are most likely based on the Gospel of Mark, according to most biblical scholars.  Luke, ever the storyteller, weaves in a fishing story.

In the Gospel of John, on the other hand, we read a very different story.  One day, John the Baptist is standing with two of his disciples when he sees Jesus.  He points to Jesus and says to his disciples, "Look!  The Lamb of God!"  Immediately, the two leave John and start following Jesus from a distance.  Eventually, Jesus turns around, spots His two stalkers, and asks them, "What are you looking for?"  In response, they ask, "Rabbi, where are you staying?"³  In other words, they aren't interested in just picking His brain for a few minutes; they want to start following Him as His students.⁴  Later on, one of these first two followers of Jesus, whose name is Andrew, invites his bother Simon to meet Jesus.⁵

In three of the Gospels, Jesus approaches the people who become His first disciples.

In the fourth Gospel, Jesus is approached by the people who become His first disciples.

I highlight these two different stories, not to point out a contradiction between the Gospels but rather to suggest that maybe people can experience a calling from God in different ways.  Maybe some people are perfectly content with the lives they are living when they start feeling called to something greater, while other people yearn for a higher calling and begin seeking one out.  Maybe, for some people, a call from God feels less like an invitation to do something in particular and more like a vague sense of discontent with life as it is.

I suspect that most of us think that a call from God is something that comes to us, as it came to the fishermen in three of the four Gospels.  Maybe a call from God is also something we can go out and find, as it was for the first disciples in John's Gospel.  My own call to lay ministry was more like the latter.  I was dissatisfied with my life as it was, so I began to seek out a higher purpose in life.  Perhaps God called me through my discontent.

If you feel that you are being called by God into a new adventure in life, may you have the courage to journey into the unfamiliar.  If you feel dissatisfied with your life as it is, may you consider that your discontent is a call in itself, and may you have the courage to explore other paths in life.  There is no one-size-fits-all narrative when it comes to the life of faith.


Notes:

1. Mark 1:16-20 (CEB)
2. Matthew 4:18-22 and Luke 5:1-11
3. John 1:35-39 (CEB)
4. William Barclay.  The New Daily Study Bible: The Gospel of John, Volume One.  2001, Saint Andrew Press.  p. 102
5. John 1:40-42

The Calling of Saint Peter and Saint Andrew was painted by James Tissot in the late 1800s.