The Coming of the Wise Men

During these weeks leading up to Advent, I’ve been sharing excerpts from my latest book, Faithful: Christmas Through the Eyes of Joseph. This week, I conclude with highlights from Chapter Five, “The Rest of the Story.” Click here to read my last post from Chapter Four.  I love the story of the Magi – the wise men who came from the east – in Matthew’s telling of the Christmas story.  Among other things, Matthew may have been wanting us to see that Jesus was not simply the Jewish Messiah but the world’s savior and king. Most likely, the Magi came from Persia. By the way, magi is the root of our word “magician.” These magi probably were not magicians in the way we think of that term. They were likely part of the priestly class within the Zoroastrian religion—respected court advisors, scholars, sages, devout believers in God, and scientists of a sort. They studied the stars and looked to them for signs of God’s plans and world events. They were astrologers in a time when astrologers were not simply creators of horoscopes but students of the stars. Zoroastrianism originated in Persia (modern-day Iran) possibly in the late seventh or the early sixth century before Christ. The prophet Zoroaster was to Zoroastrianism what Moses was to Judaism. Both religions shared a belief in one good and all-powerful God, in a host of other theological ideas, and in common ethical imperatives. Yet they were as different from one another as, say, Judaism is from Islam.  This is why I find the visit of the Magi so remarkable. According to Matthew, God chose to invite a group of foreigners, priests of a different religion, to share in the joy of Jesus’ birth. And God used them to provide what would prove to be much-needed help for the Holy Family as they would soon be forced to flee Herod’s murderous paranoia, as refugees to Egypt. In response to their sighting of the star and their deduction that a king of the Jews had been born, these wise men traveled twelve hundred miles across the ancient highways from Persia to Judea in order to see the child, bring him gifts, and pay him homage. Imagine what Joseph must have been thinking when an entourage of court officials and priests from the far east showed up at his door. What must have been going through his mind as he watched the wise men, one by one, open their extravagant gifts and bow before Joseph’s infant son, hailing him as the one “born king of the Jews”? Right here at the beginning of the gospel story, we find God doing something that really messes with our theology—he reaches out to, and uses, people of other faiths to accomplish his purposes. I wonder if part of this story’s lesson is to teach us to treat those of other faiths the way God honored the Magi or the way the Zoroastrian priests did Joseph and Mary as they brought their gifts to the newborn King. God’s perspective on those who are not of our “tribe” may just be different from our own, and learning these lessons might be key to experiencing the “peace on earth” proclaimed by the angels in the Christmas story. Click here to find more information about all Faithful products, including the primary book, a DVD, a Leader Guide, a Children's Leader Guide, and a Youth Study book.

The Journey to Bethlehem

During the next few weeks on the blog, I’ll be sharing excerpts from my latest book, Faithful: Christmas Through the Eyes of Joseph. I hope you’ll be encouraged to consider studying Joseph’s story for your Advent devotions this year. This week, I share highlights from Chapter Four, “The Journey to Bethlehem.” Click here to read last week’s post from Chapter Three.    The journey from Nazareth to Bethlehem surely was uncomfortable, unpleasant, and frightening for Mary and Joseph. In Mary’s time, women died in childbirth with a frequency that led to an average life expectancy of only thirty-five. The trip Joseph and Mary were making was filled with frightening possibilities. They set out for Bethlehem reminded once more that they were living under Roman occupation. I suspect Mary left in tears, saying goodbye to her family and hometown at the moment she needed them the most. This was a journey that neither Mary nor Joseph wanted to take. It was forced upon them. The situation that Mary and Joseph faced is emblematic of what often happens in life. At times, all of us find ourselves on journeys we don’t want to take. Sometimes, as with Mary and Joseph, the journeys happen because of someone else’s decisions or actions (in this case, it was the emperor). The journeys may be painful, and we may find ourselves brokenhearted or deeply discouraged along the way. We might even think that God is punishing us or has abandoned us. But God promises to sustain us, even though we may walk through the darkest valleys. God tells us to turn our burdens over to him, and he can make something beautiful of them. Throughout Scripture we see journeys that people don’t want to take, and much of the Bible is about God using and working through those journeys. There’s Noah on his ark, and Abraham and Sarah uprooted in retirement and sent by God to the Promised Land. There’s Ruth and Naomi grieving the loss of their husbands, and Daniel thrown into the lions’ den. Most of the really remarkable people I have met, people who are having an impact on the world, have been on journeys they didn’t want to take. Have you ever been forced on a journey you didn’t want to take? It may have been your parents’ divorce, or your own. Maybe it was an illness or a move or the loss of a job. Maybe it was the death of someone you loved dearly. I’m not suggesting that God caused these things to happen or that they were God’s will. They are simply part of life. But God goes with you on these journeys, and God’s providence has a way of bringing good and beautiful things from the pain, heartache, and disappointments we face in life. That’s what Mary and Joseph discovered. Did you know that nearly half of Luke’s Gospel is devoted to telling the story of Jesus’ final journey to Jerusalem, where he would be crucified? Where did Jesus learn to walk the journeys he did not want to take, trusting that God was with him? Perhaps it was from hearing Joseph talk about the difficult journey he and Mary took in faith and about what God brought forth from it. Just as Joseph had known somehow that God was with him, Jesus on his final journey knew somehow that God would redeem his suffering and use it to transform the world. All of us go on journeys we don’t want to take. In the midst of them, if we open ourselves to God, we can see God’s hand leading us. When you find yourself on an unplanned and difficult journey, recall these words from the prophet Isaiah, who was writing to encourage the Jewish people during their own difficult journey in exile: The Lord is the everlasting God, the creator of the ends of the earth. He doesn’t grow tired or weary. His understanding is beyond human reach, giving power to the tired
and reviving the exhausted. Youths will become tired and weary, young men will certainly stumble; but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength; they will fly up on wings like eagles; they will run and not be tired; they will walk and not be weary. (Isaiah 40:28-31) I don’t know what journeys you’ve been on that you did not want to take, or what journey you may be on now. I know that God walks with you. I know that God will strengthen you. I know that God redeems life’s painful journeys. Click here to find more information about all Faithful products, including the primary book, a DVD, a Leader Guide, a Children's Leader Guide, and a Youth Study book.    

Don't Be Afraid

During the next few weeks on the blog, I’ll be sharing excerpts from my latest book, Faithful: Christmas Through the Eyes of Joseph. I hope you’ll be encouraged to consider studying Joseph’s story for your Advent devotions this year. This week, I share highlights from Chapter Three, “Raising a Child Not Your Own.” Click here to read my last post from Chapter Two.    This week’s post begins with an angel coming to Joseph in a dream. The angel told him: “Joseph son of David, don’t be afraid to take Mary as your wife, because the child she carries was conceived by the Holy Spirit. She will give birth to a son, and you will call him Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins.” (Matthew 1:20-21) I find it interesting that, after calling Joseph’s name, the first words the angel speaks to Joseph are “Don’t be afraid.” Imagine that as a conversation starter! I think about the times when I’m talking with my wife, LaVon, and the first thing I tell her is, “Don’t be mad, but. . . .” It’s a cue that whatever I tell her next will give her good reason to be mad. Joseph probably got that same feeling of apprehension when the angel began with “Don’t be afraid.” When God calls you to do something and the opening words are “Don’t be afraid,” you likely should be afraid! Whatever follows is sure to be outside your comfort zone. It may be a call filled with challenge and risk. In fact, sometimes God will call us to do the thing we absolutely do not want to do. I’ve never seen an angel in a dream, but other kinds of angels have occasionally called me to do things I really didn’t want to do. Nancy Brown is one of those angels. She is a dynamo of a woman, twenty-three years my senior, who nearly broke my arm twisting it. Nancy told me that I needed to go with her to Africa to see what God was doing through the Methodist churches there. She hoped that if I saw it with my own eyes, I’d be as moved as she was and would come back to the States willing to do all I could to support God’s work in Malawi, Zambia, and South Africa. I’m not sure I was afraid, but I certainly dreaded the twenty-two hours of airplane rides and four hours of bus rides to reach a place I’d never been before, meeting people I’d never met and eating food I’d never eaten. But by the time we had finished, after seeing what could be done in partnership and hearing an invitation to serve with our new friends, I came back to the United States deeply inspired. I’ve had the satisfaction of returning to Africa several times since. The angels that call me to do things I don’t want to do, things that I may dread, things that I end up doing joyfully—those angels usually look a lot like Nancy Brown and others in the congregation I serve. Why did the angel tell Joseph not to be afraid? It wasn’t that Joseph might fear the angel itself. The message really was this: “Don’t be afraid of this mission to take Mary as your wife and to raise this child as your own.” The challenge of doing so must have made this humble carpenter anxious or fearful. He was being given a mission to wed Mary and to trust that the child was of God and not of another man. But more than that, Joseph was being presented with a mission of raising this child who “will save his people from their sins.” Don’t be afraid, Joseph. God’s saving plans for the world are being entrusted to your care! “Don’t be afraid” is one of the most often recorded statements by God in the Bible. That God so frequently has to tell us not to be afraid is, once again, a reminder that God’s calling is not for the faint of heart. God called Moses back to Egypt to confront Pharaoh and demand that he release the Israelite slaves. You may recall the reaction of Moses, who was eighty years old at the time. He said, basically, “Are you kidding me?” (His actual words were “Please send someone else!”) We are a bit like Moses. It’s our nature to make excuses and raise objections when called to do something we don’t want to do. But what God called Moses to wasn’t just any task; it was saving an entire nation. Likewise, what God asked of Joseph was no ordinary or small thing: he was to raise, protect, and nurture God’s son, so that the Messiah could grow up and save his people. It was as if the entirety of Moses’ life, and Joseph’s, had been preparing them for this moment, when God would call them to play a key part in God’s saving story. Yes, it was scary. It was downright terrifying. And yet it was a mission that would change the world. Have you ever felt God calling you to do something that scared you just a little bit? If not, perhaps you haven’t been paying attention. If you have heard God’s call and responded with a leap of faith that took you beyond your comfort zone, then you’ve probably discovered something important: Trusting God despite our fears, saying yes to God’s call even when we feel like saying no, ultimately brings us joy. It’s the kind of joy we celebrate on Joy Sunday in Advent. I know a woman whose initial reaction to anything uncomfortable or unnerving is to say no. It’s a kind of default response that comes from fear. She tends to see all the things that could go wrong, or all the ways she isn’t equipped or the right person for the job. One thing I admire about her, though, is that her initial response is usually not her final response. The Holy Spirit continues to work on her, and eventually her fear gives way to faith, her no becomes a yes, and God uses her to do amazing things. We all have a thousand excellent excuses to avoid what God is calling us to do, but it’s in saying yes that life’s adventures are found! Click here to find more information about all Faithful products, including the primary book, a DVD, a Leader Guide, a Children's Leader Guide, and a Youth Study book.        

Whose Child Is This?

During the next few weeks on the blog, I’ll be sharing excerpts from my latest book, Faithful: Christmas Through the Eyes of Joseph. I hope you’ll be encouraged to consider studying Joseph’s story for your Advent devotions this year. This week, I share highlights from Chapter Two, “Whose Child Is This?” Click here to read last week’s post from Chapter One.    Matthew’s account of Joseph’s story, and through it Jesus’ story, begins with a scandal. With brevity and directness, Matthew tells the reader that, while Joseph and Mary were engaged, Mary became pregnant and Joseph was not the father. Matthew leaves to the reader to ponder just how upsetting Mary’s pregnancy must have been to Joseph. We don’t learn the implications or legal consequences of what appeared to Joseph to be an act of infidelity, but we do get a hint of Joseph’s character when we read his response to this news. If we bring together Luke’s and Matthew’s accounts of Jesus’ birth stories, it seems likely to me that Mary told Joseph of her pregnancy on a visit to Bethlehem, Joseph’s hometown. (Luke 2:3 suggests that Bethlehem was Joseph’s “own city.”) Luke tells us that after Mary learned from the angel Gabriel that she was pregnant, she went to visit her older cousin Elizabeth, who was pregnant with Jesus’ cousin, John the Baptist. Bethlehem was just a few miles from the hill country where Elizabeth lived, and so it seems quite possible that, after telling Elizabeth of her pregnancy, the two of them traveled to Bethlehem to explain this to Joseph. I’ve even wondered if Elizabeth may not have been the matchmaker who arranged for Mary’s marriage to Joseph, given that she lived very close to Bethlehem but was a member of Mary’s family. Mary, likely accompanied by Elizabeth, told Joseph that a messenger from God had appeared to her announcing she was to have a child. (The Greek word that is transliterated as “angel” in the Gospels— angelos—literally means “messenger.”) The messenger had told Mary she would become pregnant through the work of the Holy Spirit. That may have been exactly what Mary said, but I suspect it was not exactly what Joseph heard. He seems simply to have heard that his fiancée was pregnant, and he knew he was not the father. We read in Matthew 1:19 that Joseph “was a righteous man,” by which Matthew may have intended us to know that Joseph would not condone adultery. Matthew may also have used the phrase in reference to the next line: “Because he didn’t want to humiliate her, he decided to call off their engagement quietly.” ClearlyJoseph did not believe Mary’s story that she had conceived supernaturally by the Holy Spirit. The news that Joseph received from Mary was devastating. Joseph and Mary were not yet living together as husband and wife, but Joseph undoubtedly felt utterly betrayed and humiliated. Once Mary became visibly pregnant, people were going to talk. Joseph faced a dilemma. On the one hand, he could do what was customary in such circumstances and call off the marriage. He would have to go to the priest or into the public square and declare what had happened and why he was breaking off the engagement. To do this publicly would be to call Mary out as an adulteress. She would be publicly scorned and humiliated. The Law of Moses (see Deuteronomy 22:20-21, 23-24) stipulates an even harsher penalty for an engaged woman who cheats on her bridegroom before they are married: “The city’s elders will bring the young woman to the door of her father’s house. The citizens of that city must stone her until she dies” because she had betrayed the man to whom she was engaged, her entire family, and God. “Remove such evil from your community!” says the Law. It doesn’t appear that this penalty was practiced much among Jewish people under Roman rule. But even if Mary were not put to death, she would be seen as a sinner in her community, a harlot. And she would be viewed this way from that time forward. Few men would consider marrying a woman who had cheated on her fiancé. Mary would carry a reputation with her from then on. Her family, too, may have faced disgrace. But that was not what Joseph wanted. Instead, even though undoubtedly heartbroken, he showed mercy to Mary. He decided to divorce her quietly. This likely meant that he would say he had changed his mind about the marriage. As it became evident that Mary was pregnant, people would assume that Joseph was the father and that he had a change of heart after being intimate with her. He, not Mary, would be seen as the dishonorable party in the relationship. He would take all the blame. He would accept the stigma and shame for himself rather than allow Mary to be forever disgraced. Mary’s dignity would remain intact. No one would be put to death. All this is implied by those few words in Matthew’s Gospel: “Joseph her husband was a righteous man. Because he didn’t want to humiliate her, he decided to call off their engagement quietly” (Matthew 1:19). Think about the picture that Matthew’s Gospel reveals of Joseph in those few words. Joseph had reason to believe that he had been wronged, that his fiancée had been unfaithful. At that point, Joseph hadn’t yet had the dream in which the messenger of the Lord appeared to him. Despite his pain, he still felt compassion for Mary. He showed mercy, forgiveness, and grace. He felt hurt and betrayed but refused to denounce her publicly and humiliate her. That, I think, is remarkable. Click here to find more information about all Faithful products, including the primary book, a DVD, a Leader Guide, a Children's Leader Guide, and a Youth Study book.

A Carpenter Named Joseph

No man played a more important role in Jesus’ life than Joseph. Though not Jesus’ biological father, Joseph adopted Jesus as his son. Joseph protected him, provided for him, taught and mentored him. 

In Support of United Methodist Centrism

A Response to Kevin Watson’s Struggle with Centrism I’m grateful for Kevin Watson’s recent blog post, My Struggle with Centrism #UMC.  Kevin is the Assistant Professor of Wesleyan and Methodist Studies at Candler School of Theology.  He’s a thoughtful scholar whose ministry I truly appreciate.  But in this recent post, Watson creates what I believe is a straw man he identifies as Methodist Centrism, a straw man easily critiqued.  Since his post identifies me as one of the leading advocates of this view, I’d like to offer a few responses. I offer this post in the same spirit I believe Kevin offered his post – with respect for him and with the aim of fostering deeper understanding and greater faithfulness.  Watson starts by discussing my 2008 book, Seeing Gray in a World of Black and White.  As he noted in his 2008 review of the book, Seeing Gray was a response to the increasing polarization in our country – the “ideological silos” that Americans found themselves in at the time – political, sociological, and theological. The culture wars behind the polarization were fueled in large part by Christians who tended to oversimplify complex issues while suggesting that God was on their “side.” In the decade since my book came out, the problem has only gotten worse. Watson notes that he was “increasingly troubled” by what he termed the “virtue of gray.” I think he misunderstood the proposition for which I was advocating. The book was written to call people to listen to, and to understand, the perspectives of those on both sides of the issues dividing our nation and our churches, leading to a recognition that there is usually some truth on both sides of the divide.  Seeing gray meant that Republicans would appreciate that Democrats might have something valid to offer in solving serious problems, and vice versa.  It meant that liberals would listen to conservatives and conservatives to liberals and recognize that often they each brought important pieces of the truth to the conversation. Kevin noted that, “Trying to see gray may sometimes work at an abstract 50,000 foot level. But it does not work very well when you are talking to a human being created in the image of God who is trying to discern whether they can do something with God’s blessing. The reality is it is often, though not always, an either-or.”  I see just the opposite.  As a pastor of a local church for the last 29 years, I regularly sit with parishioners facing complex moral dilemmas, and it is precisely in these conversations, that it becomes clear that the world is seldom as black and white as we would like.   Watson says, “The deeper problem I have with Hamilton’s approach … is that there are many ethical issues that logically cannot have a middle ground.”  I don’t know any centrist who would disagree.  I note in the book that there are many issues that are black and white, where there is no gray.  Child abuse is always wrong.  Genocide is always wrong.  Treating others with cruelty is always wrong.  Murder is always wrong.  No one that Kevin might label a centrist believes that there is a middle ground on every ethical issue. But we don’t have to get very far down the list of ethical issues before we discover that on many issues there is some gray.  Take the commandment, “Thou shalt not kill.”  That seems pretty black and white.  Yet the Law of Moses allows for killing in self-defense and war, and even in meting out punishment.  Likewise, honesty is a virtue, and we should always speak the truth, except when the truth might result in serious harm to another (the classic examples include those hiding Tutsi in their homes in Rwanda during the genocide, or those hiding Jews during the Holocaust). On many of the political, ethical, and theological issues that divide us today, United Methodists generally agree that it is possible for thoughtful, deeply committed, orthodox, Wesleyan Christians to disagree.  Wesley himself advocated for a generosity of spirit when it came to certain “opinions.”  But increasingly there are some on the left and the right who say that, on our most divisive issue, the issue of same-sex marriage, there is only one legitimate Christian position.  Over lunch today I heard this from a friend on the left.  In a recent conversation, I heard this from a friend on the right.  These two friends are both deeply devoted Christians, orthodox in their theology and evangelical in their desire to invite people to follow Christ. Both are Wesleyan to the core.  They each attended United Methodist seminaries.  Both are lifelong, passionate United Methodists who’ve given themselves to Christ and the church.  They are effective preachers, leaders and teachers.  Both are compassionate, justice-loving Christians.  And yet they disagree on how to interpret the Scriptures cited as relevant to the question of same-sex marriage. Which friend should no longer be counted a United Methodist? Centrists are increasingly speaking up to say that it is possible to disagree on this issue and be one church. Many of the laity in our churches have figured out how to do this with each other.  People in the same Sunday school classes, Bible studies, and small groups hold different positions on God’s views of human sexuality and yet continue to call one another “brother” and “sister.”  My final chapter in Seeing Gray advocates for the “radical center.” Bishop Scott Jones has been speaking up for the “extreme center” for years.  Others have even formed a Methodist Centrists Movement. A significant number of the leading voices in our denomination, including many evangelicals, were drawn to the UMC because of our capacity to hold together views and practices that take into account the truth found on both sides of the theological divide. Centrism, for its advocates, is not some kind of milquetoast, middle-of-the-road, mediocre faith.  Nor is it, as Bishop Jones has noted, the “dead center.”  It is not a faith of moderation.  Instead those who speak up for Methodist centrism believe it is simply a part of our character as Methodists.  They advocate for a passionate Methodist faith that holds together both grace and holiness, both evangelism and social justice, both a love of Scripture and a gratitude for the insights of critical scholarship.  They hold together both salvation by grace through faith and the importance of good works. They pursue a spirituality that engages both the intellect and the heart. In addition, this center involves the capacity to listen to and learn from people with whom we disagree.  It was captured in Wesley’s catholic spirit and his own capacity to draw water from various streams of Christianity, Catholic, Orthodox, Reformed while navigating a middle way between them. Those who lean towards the center seek to be passionate followers of Jesus Christ.  Their aim is not to create some kind of vacuous and inoffensive middle, but to find the truth of Christ and to do his will, wherever he leads.  Kevin Watson’s implication that centrists’ “beliefs and values are not first informed by Scripture and the deep riches of the Christian tradition” is a serious misrepresentation of every Christian I know who identifies with the center.  Watson concludes, “I cannot imagine a reading of the Gospels that could convincingly argue that Jesus was a centrist. Centrists, after all, are rarely crucified.”  I suppose that depends upon what one means by centrist, and who’s doing the crucifying.  In so many ways Jesus preached a gospel that stood between the various impulses of his time, holding them in tension. Was Jesus liberal or conservative?  Was he a legalist or a libertine? Did he preach ethics or evangelism?  In Jesus’ day, two of the major opposing factions were the Sadducees and the Pharisees, in some ways representing the left and the right in first century Judaism.  In the end, Jesus didn’t fit neatly into either of these groups, yet he drew elements from both.  And, not surprisingly, both the Sadducees and the Pharisees called for his crucifixion.   Anyone who has ever stood in the center knows it is hardly safe.  You’re likely to be criticized by both “conservatives” and “liberals.”  But in an increasingly polarized world, the center may just be the most radical, extreme, and faithful place to stand if you are seeking to follow Jesus Christ.  If you identify with the center, I’d like to invite you to check out the new Uniting Methodists website (http://unitingmethodists.com) and if it captures your perspective, join me in signing the statement.  

Passing on the Faith

Today’s post is an excerpt from Chapter Six of my latest book, Moses: In the Footsteps of the Reluctant Prophet. Click here to read last week’s post, which was taken from Chapter Five.  About the photos above: 1) Standing on the top of Mt. Nebo in Jordan, looking over the Promised Land.  It was here that Moses stood to catch a glimpse of the Promised Land just before his death. 2) With my granddaughter Stella at the lake.   Deuteronomy is set in the final days of Moses’ life. He had led the Israelites to the Jordan River, just east of the Promised Land. God told Moses that he would not actually enter the land with them; shortly he would ascend Mount Nebo, and there he would die. The book is composed of Moses’ farewell discourses—his final words to the Israelites. If there is one theme that stands above the rest in the farewell discourses of Moses that make up the Book of Deuteronomy, it would be Moses’ concern that the Israelites pass on the faith to their children. Thirty-eight verses in Deuteronomy mention children. Many passages are similar to these: These words that I am commanding you today must always be on your minds. Recite them to your children. Talk about them when you are sitting around your house and when you are out and about, when you are lying down and when you are getting up. (Deuteronomy 6:6-7) Why was this admonition important to Moses? So that “you and your children and your children’s children may fear the Lord your God all the days of your life” (6:2 NRSV). Note this same emphasis a few verses later: When your children ask you in time to come, “What is the meaning of the decrees and the statutes and the ordinances that the Lord our God has commanded you?” then you shall say to your children, “We were Pharaoh’s slaves in Egypt, but the Lord brought us out of Egypt with a mighty hand. The Lord displayed before our eyes great and awesome 
signs and wonders against Egypt, against Pharaoh and all his household. He brought us out from there in order to bring 
us in, to give us the land that he promised on oath to our ancestors. Then the Lord commanded us to observe all these statutes, to fear the Lord our God, for our lasting good, so as to keep us alive, as is now the case. If we diligently observe this entire commandment before the Lord our God, as he has commanded us, we will be in the right.” (Deuteronomy 6:20-25) There is an urgency to Moses’ words. He knew that Israel’s faith, the faith he had devoted himself to, would be “never more than one generation away from extinction.” Moses’ concern is part of what makes Deuteronomy so timeless. Every generation faces this same challenge. For example, there has been a significant focus in the past few years on the declining religious affiliation among millennials and the overall decline in worship attendance among people of all ages. Some suggest, however, that the sky is not falling. Haydn Shaw, in his book Generational IQ, reminds us that young adults have always dropped out of church in their late teens and returned when they start having children. He notes that millennials are waiting much longer to marry and have children than young people did twenty years ago, which means they are also waiting longer to come back to church. I think he’s right, but that fact alone does not completely explain the decline in religious affiliation and participation that we’re seeing today. I believe that Moses’ words in Deuteronomy continue to be the key to the future of faith. In teaching faith to our children, we don’t want to be guilty of “cramming it down their throats.” But I fear that, for most of us, that’s not the problem. We may take our kids to church and even Sunday school, but we sometimes fail to have meaningful, authentic conversations with them concerning what we really believe about God, how we’ve seen God work in our lives, and what we have experienced of God in prayer and worship—conversations that are not forced but come out of our daily attempts to walk with God. As our children grow up, particularly if they move away from God and the church for a period of time, it becomes harder to have such conversations. During these seasons with my own kids, after they had graduated from high school and had gone away to college, I found it easier to write letters to them conveying my love to them, in which perhaps one paragraph out of seven or eight might be about faith. As a family we continued to pray at mealtime when the girls came home to visit, even if one or the other of them did not bow their heads. I tried to stop preaching and pushing, while at the same time praying and striving to demonstrate something real in my faith that might one day speak to them. Now that I’m a grandfather to a three-year-old granddaughter, I’m wondering if grandparents may be an important key to passing on the faith to future generations. My grandmother Sarah had the greatest impact on my faith when I was a boy. A devout Roman Catholic, she took me to church. Since I was seldom with her on Sunday, she took me to Bingo with the nuns on Friday or to light a candle and walk through the church on a weekday. She taught me to pray the Rosary and was intentional about sharing her faith. It was in reading a Bible she had given our family that I came to faith in Christ. She died when I was thirteen, but I never forgot her faith. Recently I babysat my granddaughter while her parents went out on a “date night.” My wife was out of town, so it was just Stella and Papa. We played together. I let her pick out what we would have for supper: hot dogs, macaroni and cheese, and peas. (Yes, she chose peas!) We ate sitting on the living room floor while watching cartoons together. At one point I took her outside to look at the stars; our home is in the country, so the skies are dark and the stars are bright. I pointed out various constellations and reminded her that her name, Stella, means “star.” We came back inside, had cookies and ice cream, read books, and then, two hours after her official bedtime, I put her to bed (the joy of being a grandparent!). As I lay down with her to put her to sleep, I said to her, “Stella, I want to tell you about something that is really important to Papa.” She looked at me attentively. I asked, “Do you remember the stars?” She nodded. “Do you know that Someone made them all and calls them all by name? That someone is God. He made trees and rabbits and puppies and little girls. We can’t see him, but he’s all around us. And Stella, he loves you. When Mimi and Papa pray, we are talking to him. And do you know what we say to him when we pray? We say thank you.” And with that, Stella and I prayed together. I think that’s what Moses was saying in Deuteronomy. Intentionally sharing and living your faith is crucial so that your children and grandchildren know what you believe and how it shapes your life and so that they see a real and authentic faith in you. Today’s post is an excerpt from Chapter Six, “Don’t Forget … Pass It On,” from my latest book, Moses: In the Footsteps of the Reluctant Prophet. Click here to find more information about all Moses products, including the primary book, a DVD, a Leader Guide, a Children's Leader Guide, and a Youth Study book.    

Paralyzed by Fear

Today’s post is an excerpt from Chapter Five of my latest book, Moses: In the Footsteps of the Reluctant Prophet. Click here to read last week’s post, which was taken from Chapter Four.  About the image above: This is a portion of a map from page 128 of the book, which shows the geographical setting of the Exodus. This section corresponds to the events discussed in today's post.    By Numbers 13, the Israelites had been free from slavery for two years. They were in the Wilderness of Paran, setting up camp at Kadesh Barnea. This was exciting—they were just a few miles from the Promised Land! After two long and arduous years, they were about to inherit the land that flowed with milk and honey, which Moses had described so many times. At that point God commanded Moses, “Send out men to explore the land of Canaan, which I’m giving to the Israelites. Send one man from each ancestral tribe, each a chief among them” (Numbers 13:2). The scouts spent the next forty days exploring the Promised Land. Here was the scouts’ report when they returned: “We entered the land to which you sent us. It’s actually full of milk and honey, and this is its fruit. There are, however, powerful people who live in the land. The cities have huge fortifications” (13:27-28). Upon hearing this report, the people of Israel became anxious, but Caleb, one of the scouts, spoke up: “We must go up and take possession of it, because we are more than able to do it.” But the men who went up with him said, “We can’t go up against the people because they are stronger than we. . . . All the people we saw in it are huge men. . . .We saw ourselves as grasshoppers, and that’s how we appeared to them.” (Number 13:30-33)   Notice how the Israelites responded: they became paralyzed by fear. The entire community raised their voice and the people wept that night. All the Israelites criticized Moses and Aaron. The entire community said to them, “If only we had died in the land of Egypt or if only we had died in this desert! Why is the Lord bringing us to this land to fall by the sword? Our wives and our children will be taken by force. Wouldn’t it be better for us to return to Egypt?” So they said to each other, “Let’s pick a leader and let’s go back to Egypt.” (Numbers 14:1-4) This was the tenth incident of the people complaining against Moses and, by implication, against God. The people even planned to stone Moses and Aaron! (14:10). Their attitude roused God’s anger. After all God had done for them, the people still didn’t trust God! And so God announced to Moses, None of the people who have seen my glory and the signs that I did in Egypt and in the wilderness, and yet have tested me these ten times and have not obeyed my voice, shall see the land that I swore to give to their ancestors; none of those who despised me shall see it. (Numbers 14:22-23 NRSV) As a result of God’s pronouncement, no one twenty years of age and older who had cried out against God and against Moses would be allowed to enter the Promised Land. Only Joshua and Caleb would go, because they had encouraged the people to enter the land and take it. This is the reason the Israelites spent the next thirty-eight years in the desert: they had allowed fear to stop them just miles from the Promised Land. At times all of us wrestle with fear—of failure, of success, of others, of being poor, of growing old, and a thousand other fears. And our fear, when we give in to it, keeps us living in the wilderness, just a few miles outside the Promised Land. It’s not that there aren’t legitimate things to fear. The people in the new land were strong and the cities were fortified, as the scouts had reported. But God was with the Israelites. And the God who parted the Reed Sea and raised Jesus Christ from the dead is also with us! That means that no matter how tall the giants may be, if God is with us we can move forward, and somehow, some way, he will lead us to the “Promised Land.” Today’s post is an excerpt from Chapter Five, “Lessons from the Wilderness,” from my latest book, Moses: In the Footsteps of the Reluctant Prophet. Click here to find more information about all Moses products, including the primary book, a DVD, a Leader Guide, a Children's Leader Guide, and a Youth Study book.  

The Ten Commandments

Today’s post is an excerpt from Chapter Four of my latest book, Moses: In the Footsteps of the Reluctant Prophet. Click here to read last week’s post, which was taken from Chapter Three. About the photos above: (1) The Plain of el-Raha as seen from St. Catherine’s Monastery. You can imagine thousands of tents in the plain between the mountains. (2) This was snapped by one of our videographers as I was stopped, reading the story of Moses ascending Mt. Sinai to receive the Ten Commandments. Mt. Sinai rises in the background above me.   Following God’s dramatic victory over the Egyptian army at the Reed Sea, the Israelites sang, worshiped, and feasted as they celebrated their newfound freedom. Then they followed Moses as he began the journey back to Mount Sinai where he had first encountered God. They would take three months to make the 190-mile journey, and once there they would remain camped at Sinai for the next eleven months. During those eleven months Moses would repeatedly climb Mount Sinai, and God would descend upon the mountaintop to meet him, often in dramatic fashion with smoke, thunder, and lightning. At these meetings God and Moses conversed “face-to-face, like two people talking to each other” (Exodus 33:11). Moses would then bring down from the mountain God’s commands for the people, including the ordering of their religious and civil life. Mount Sinai is the setting for Exodus 19–40, all of Leviticus, and Numbers 1–10. In these passages Mount Sinai is referred to in various ways, including Mount Horeb (though in a handful of places this name seems to refer to a separate mountain) and often simply “the mountain of God” (NRSV).  A large valley at the base of Mount Sinai is called the Plain of el-Raha, “the Plain of Rest.” Here the Israelites were said to have camped for nearly a year. It was here, according to tradition, that Moses forty years earlier had met Zipporah, his wife. And it was here, just months before leading the Israelites to this place, that Moses, while grazing his father-in-law’s flock, had heard the voice of God speak to him from the burning bush.  Powerful Encounters Towering above the valley are three mountain peaks, but the one that most people climb is referred to by those who live in the region as Jebel Musa—the Mountain of Moses. It is not the tallest of the three peaks, though it is shorter only by a few hundred feet. But it was here, tradition tells us, that God met with Moses and entered into a covenant with the slaves he had just set free. The Lord called to him from the mountain, “This is what you should say to Jacob’s household and declare to the Israelites: You saw what I did to the Egyptians, and how I lifted you up on eagles’ wings and brought you to me. So now, if you faithfully obey me and stay true to my covenant, you will be my most precious possession out of all the peoples, since the whole earth belongs to me. You will be a kingdom of priests for me and a holy nation. These are the words you should say to the Israelites.” (Exodus 19:3-6) This important passage was meant to shape the self-understanding of the Israelite people. It captured God’s purpose in delivering the Israelites and God’s mission for his people. God would enter into a covenant with them, and they with him. He would consider them his most precious possession, and they would become a kingdom of priests who represented God and mediated God’s word, God’s purposes, and God’s grace to the rest of the world.  During God’s initial meeting with Moses on Mount Sinai, Moses was told to prepare the people for God’s appearance on the mountaintop. They were to wash their clothes and refrain from sexual intimacy. Moses was to erect a fence before the mountain, telling the people not to touch the mountain. Finally we read in Exodus: When morning dawned on the third day, there was thunder, lightning, and a thick cloud on the mountain, and a very loud blast of a horn. All the people in the camp shook with fear. Moses brought the people out of the camp to meet God, and they took their place at the foot of the mountain. Mount Sinai was all in smoke because the Lord had come down on it with lightning. The smoke went up like the smoke of a hot furnace, while the whole mountain shook violently. The blasts of the horn grew louder and louder. Moses would speak, and God would answer him with thunder. The Lord came down on Mount Sinai to the top of the mountain. The Lord called Moses to come up to the top of the mountain, and Moses went up. (Exodus 19:16-20) The reader of Exodus is meant to feel the awe experienced by the Israelites in these encounters with God. The people were terrified. It was a dangerous thing to be in such proximity to the One by whose power the universe came into existence. I am reminded of the constant refrain in C. S. Lewis’s novels about the land of Narnia regarding its king, the lion named Aslan, who represented Christ: “He is not a tame lion.” Yahweh has compassion, mercy, and love for his people; nevertheless, his power and presence can’t be contained in the tame versions of God that many of us believe in today. We’re meant to take seriously the fear and awe that God inspired as he appeared at Sinai that day.  Exodus 20-24 goes on to describe a six-day period when God’s glory covered the top of Mt. Sinai, during which Moses received the Ten Commandments. The Ten Commandments, also known as the Decalogue (the ten words), reflect God’s basic ordering of Israelite society. Of the 613 laws said to have been given by God to Moses, only these ten were said to be etched on stone by the finger of God (Exodus 31:18).  These stone tablets were placed inside the ark of the covenant.  They represent the foundation of biblical ethics and the summation of the Law.   As I sat on the side of Mount Sinai, looking up at the summit as the sun rose, I took out my Bible and read the Ten Commandments, reflecting upon these pivotal commandments.  It’s worth noting that most of us don’t like rules.  We don’t like people telling us “thou shalt not,” nor even “thou shalt.”  Some see the Ten Commandments in this way – a kind of stifling set of commands.  But I see them differently.  The commandments then, as now, function as theological statements, a vision for human living, and as moral and emotional “guard rails.”  As theological statements each tells us something about God, and God’s will for humanity.  They offer a vision for how we live, love and relate to one another.  And they help us to know the boundaries as we seek to live our lives.  They functioned in this way for the ancient Israelites, and they continue to function this way for us today.  Far from stifling us, they are meant to keep us from harm, and from succumbing to thoughts and behaviors that enslave. They made it to the “top ten list” – because they address some of the key temptations or tendencies with which human beings wrestle.   Here are the Ten Commandments God was said to have etched in the stone tablets,  I am the Lord your God who brought you out of Egypt, out of the house of slavery. You must have no other gods before me. Do not make an idol for yourself…Do not bow down to them or worship them. Do not use the Lord your God's name as if it were of no significance; the Lord won't forgive anyone who uses his name that way. Remember the Sabbath day and treat it as holy. Six days you may work and do all your tasks, but the seventh day is a Sabbath to the Lord your God… Honor your father and your mother so that your life will be long on the fertile land that the Lord your God is giving you. Do not kill. Do not commit adultery. Do not steal. Do not testify falsely against your neighbor. Do not desire your neighbor's house. Do not desire and try to take your neighbor's wife, male or female servant, ox, donkey, or anything else that belongs to your neighbor.  Exodus 20:2-17 Today’s post is an excerpt from Chapter Four, “The Ten Commandments,” from my latest book, Moses: In the Footsteps of the Reluctant Prophet. Click here to find more information about all Moses products, including the primary book, a Leader Guide, a Children's Leader Guide, and a Youth Study book.