Lenten Bible Study Day 26; Acts 7

Acts, Chapter 7 (NRSV)

The story of the Martyrdom of Stephen was thought by the early church to be the turning point in Luke's writing about the relationships between the Old and the New Covenant. Stephen recounts the history of children of Abraham and how God was constantly faithful to the Old Covenant made with Abraham but Abraham's descendants were not. He ends his speech with the charge that "You are the ones that received the law as ordained by angels, and yet you have not kept it.'

Looking up to heaven Stephen sees a vision of Jesus and God's glory. And the crowd kills him. And Saul is there guarding the coats of the people who do the deed. Like Jesus, Stephen is killed outside of the gates of the city of Jerusalem. Like Jesus, Stephen forgives the people who are killing him and asks God to also forgive them. Like Jesus, he commends his soul to God. But do notice the change in language. It's not God but Jesus that Stephen asks to receive his spirit when he dies.

Luke is clearly telling us the story in a way that we can recognize the parallels. What Jesus has suffered, now Stephen has suffered. And as we know from the stories of the next years of the early Church, so too will the apostles suffer. The great themes of salvation history are replayed again and again - though now with a different ending.

If you read the Gospel and Acts carefully, you'll see that this re-experiencing of the story happens in the story of Jesus too. As Jesus is living out his life, he is essentially recapitulating the story of Israel, the descendants of Abraham. The point is that Jesus is able to what the other children were not. And now his followers are able to follow in his example.

It's because of that understanding, that we are reliving the story of salvation history in our own lives, the early writers in the Church often looked back at the older stories and read them as history AND allegories of our spiritual journey. Take the opening sentences of Stephen's speech for instance. Stephen recounts how Abraham heard God's voice telling him to "Leave your country". According to the Venerable Bede (the first historian of the British Church), Cassian, and others this can be understood to be a call to inward renunciation as well as an outward call to "go". In other words, all of us are to hear God's call to Abraham to "Leave your country" as a recognition that we belong to God, and that we are merely sojourners in this place we find ourselves at present.

Perhaps you will find this spiritual allegorical reading of Stephen's speech a useful way to enter into the story of this chapter. Take for instance just that first recounting of Abraham hearing God's voice and then responding in faith. That call and response is, as Paul argues in his letters, a covenant between God and humanity. "If you trust me, and live as my child, I will take you to the place I have prepared for you." It's a promise and it's essentially a contract isn't it?

Have you ever done it in your life? In your spiritual life? Have you ever "gone out" from the place where you were to find a new place that God prepared for you?

It's striking how many Episcopalians were not born into Episcopal families. Many of us are converts to this denomination. Many of you, at some point in your faith life, decided that where you were wasn't the place God meant you to be. Essentially, using this way of reading scripture, you heard God's voice and you went out and have come to this new place.

Do you remember that journey? Are you still on that journey? Listen carefully in church today as the priest speaks the Eucharist prayer. Stephen recounts the story of Abraham's children and ends with the revelation of Jesus. In our prayer we will tell our story of call, of our wandering, of our rebelling also. And at the end of the prayer, we too see Jesus revealed, this time in the breaking of the bread.

The way Luke tells this story in Acts, and the way Luke tells the entire story, is meant to help us to see the great fundamental story of who we are. Take some time today, read Stephen's speech and reflect on the parallels between the story of the children of Israel, the Church's and your own. Is the ending turning out to be different too?

Lenten Bible Study Day 25; Acts 6

Acts, Chapter 6 (NRSV)

A friend of mine and I were talking about ordained ministry recently. All of Christ's followers are called to bless, to teach, to care for one another and to build up the Body of believers. But some are put aside for a special focus in these areas. He listed three areas that we Episcopalians probably all recognize. Priests focus much of their work on blessing and on teaching. Bishops are called to work for unity. And deacons are called to serve.

In today's reading from Acts we have the story of why the order of deacons was created and how it was started. In the very first chapters of the Acts we hear about the decision to order the ministry of the apostles, of how they chose Matthias and what they focused their attention on. Today, in response to a need in the common life of the community that was taking the Apostles away from their primary tasks, the apostles called for the creation of deacons (a word that literally means "one who waits at tables") and asked the community to chose seven of them. The apostles prayed and then laid hands upon the seven.

If you've ever been to an ordination you will probably recognize that language. The climactic moment of an ordination happens when the bishop (who is understood to be the heir of the apostles in his or her local community) lays hands on the person being ordained. I remember my own ordination when I was made a deacon. I remember the weight of my bishop's hands and the sense that something in me was changing. That sense was a surprise. It wasn't something I anticipated at all. But it didn't mark a striking change in who I was. I stood up pretty much the same person I had been before I knelt down that day.

What I did notice was that parts of me that had already been there were brought into a new focus. I was commissioned to a task and now under the formal discipline of the Church to carry that out. And my primary way of carrying out that task was to try to stir up that part of the people around me who, together with all in the Church, shared the work of serving the needs of the poor and the marginalized. Together, as a body, in our own day, we carried out the work of the seven deacons. As a deacon I was now expected to find that "heart of a deacon" in others so that we could be deacon for the world.

You have within you a calling to serve others. It's part of what happens to all of us when we are baptized into the Body of Christ. How are you responding to that calling? How are you being deacon to the people in your life? You don't need to be ordained to serve others - that's our common birthright as Christians. But it's also our common spiritual discipline. There's nothing to stop you. And you're supposed to get started.

So what are you going to do about that today?

Lenten Bible Study Day 24; Acts 5

Acts, Chapter 5 (NRSV)

The first story in this chapter actually begins a few verses earlier at the end of chapter 4. (That's a reminder that the chapter divisions in the Bible texts are arbitrary.) The story is an uncomfortable one to read; it is of how Ananias and Sapphira lie to the community and and as a result die.

I've never heard anyone preach on it. Mostly I've heard it used as a punchline for a joke. If we can get beyond the difficulty of understanding why God would strike people dead for this but not for the awful things that happen before and afterward in the narrative, and get over our discomfort that this is a trespass regarding money, perhaps we can see it as a story about how important the early Church thought it was to be accountable to the community of believers - and how important God considered the community to be.

There's a sermon to be found in that story, or perhaps a mediation, but for me this morning, I'm going to go to the end of the chapter and focus my attention there first.

As the controversy between the apostles and the leaders of the Jewish people begins to boil over, and the lives of the apostles are placed in great danger, a famous rabbi stands up and counsels against taking action. Gamaliel is mentioned in the Talmud and was, at one time, the President of the Sanhedrin (the council of the leaders of the Jewish people). According to some traditions he was renowned for his wisdom. Later on in Acts, Paul will mention that Gamaliel was one of his teachers.

In this particular moment, Gamaliel stands up in the council and cautions the leaders against acting too quickly to end the controversy that is being caused by the apostles teaching. He reminds his hearers that there have been other controversial claims about the Messiah in recent memory, and they have all ended badly. Those leaders and their followers have come to nothing in the end. He suggests that the Sanhedrin should wait to see what God is doing. If Peter and John and the others are telling the truth, then the leaders must not hinder them in any way. If the Apostles are not telling the truth, God will judge them for speaking lies about God. The wise course is to be patient and see.

It's essentially a bit of wisdom that's not all that different from the old English maxim, "The proof of the pudding is in the eating." You just don't know sometimes how things are going to turn out until you see them all the way through.

Much of what happens in the Episcopal Church these days is an application of this particular spiritual law. We are dealing with numerous controversies. Some other churches respond to the controversies by forbidding anyone to speak about them or to simply reiterate the traditional position. We've done that too. It hasn't always worked out well. But mostly now we're willing to let things play themselves out so that we might see where God is in things. If the matter of the controversy is from God, it will end well. If not, it won't. Deciding to wait this way is an act that represents a deep faith in Holy Spirit. At least most of the time. Sometimes we're just avoiding conflict… It takes a great deal of wisdom to discern the difference.

So here then is something to meditate on today. We know that this chapter has a story that teaches how important it is that we be responsible to the community. And another story that urges us to wait to see what God is going to do in a moment of great controversy. How willing are you to suspend your desire to protect the community that has brought you healing and life and allow a difficult situation to simply be difficult for a while? How willing are you to trust that God will work things out in a time of controversy?

I confess that I struggle a great deal with finding the proper balance between these two spiritual ideas. I expect we all do. But when have you found the right balance before? And why was that time different?

Lenten Bible Study Day 23; Acts 3-4

 Acts, Chapters 3 and 4 (NRSV)
After Jesus ascends into heaven, the Church, his body on Earth, continues his work. In these two chapters of Acts, Luke is clearly drawing parallels between what Jesus did in the days leading up to his Passion and what his followers are now doing.

In the opening of the 3rd chapter Peter and John heal a beggar at the Beautiful Gate of the Temple - a place where Jesus did much of his teaching, and taught in a way that is very much like his healings. The key difference here is that Jesus did the healings as a sign that he was the Messiah. In the story in the Acts of the Apostles, Peter and John invoke the name of Jesus - to prove that Jesus is who he said he was. The teaching that follows makes this point clear to the people who are astonished at what has happened.

The next day there is a meeting of the same group of people who had condemned Jesus to die. Peter confronts the religious leaders in the same way that Jesus did during his earthly ministry. Peter quotes scripture (did you notice the quote again about the cornerstone that was rejected?), and confounds the critics with his arguments and the signs that have been performed. The religious leaders are unable to respond directly to the challenges made by Peter and John and instead order them to keep quiet. Both Peter and John refuse - they must speak. Finally, the believers gather together to pray to God, asking God to continue to empower their proclamation of the Gospel by signs of healing and restoration so that the Gospel will be believed. It's all very familiar sounding isn't it?

This is Luke's point. The Church, the Body of Christ, is active in the world, continuing the work of Jesus until history draws to a close. The parallels are obvious and intentional. We'll see them even more strongly as we read on over the next few weeks.

So where are you and I in all this? We are, by virtue of our baptism, part of the Body of Christ. Unless you want to argue, as some have, that the responsibility to continue Christ's work on Earth in the way we read about in Acts was only something that God expected to happen for a short while, then how are we doing what the apostles did in their own day? Are we healing? Are we proclaiming? Are we gathering together and praying that God will make our proclamation more effective?

Healings take many forms. Sometimes they are as dramatic and obvious as the healing of the beggar that is described in the text we just read. Sometimes they are less externally obvious - like the healing of Paul that we'll soon be reading about. Sometimes they take a long time from start to end. Have you ever seen any healings done? Have you been healed? Have you been restored to a fuller life?

Actually, I know many people in the Church who have been healed by their faith, or by the faith of others, but I don't know how many of us have seen those healings for the signs they were - or have seen that the Church is the sign that Christ is still active in the world, restoring all things. I'm not even sure we recognize that the healings we witness, or personally experience, are always from God and meant for a purpose.

When people in the early centuries of the Church complained that Jesus' miracles weren't very impressive, the teachers always countered that Jesus did every miracle, every sign for a reason. He wasn't showing off, he was teaching us about the nature of God and God's Kingdom. The healings we see today, what are they teaching us about God? What is the reason that they have happened?

Lenten Bible Study Day 22; Acts 1-2

Acts, Chapters 1 and 2 (NRSV)

We now make the turn to the second volume of Luke's writings. There's little doubt among scholars that  both "The Gospel according to Luke" and "The Acts of the Apostles" are written by the same person. The style and language is the same. And the opening of Acts directly references the opening verses of the Gospel. We're not clear whether or not "Theophilus (literally "God Lover") refers to a historical person or meant to reference anyone who is reading this work. Perhaps the ambiguity is intentional. Either way, the author of the two works is continuing the narrative begun in the regions at the edge of the Jewish promised land and which has ended in Jerusalem with the disciples worshiping God daily in the Temple.

A number of interpreters have pointed out that Luke seems to have written a literary hourglass in these two volumes. The opening of the Gospel starts with ancient prophecies being fulfilled and a journey toward Jerusalem. The longest section of the first volume is the "road to Jerusalem" narrative. And when Jesus arrives in Jerusalem, endures his Passion and bursts forth from the tomb, his disciples move outward from Jerusalem into all the known world. We start with as wide a vista as possible, narrow our focus to Jerusalem and the three days of the Triduum, and then explode outwards into all of creation. In Luke's writing, God is proclaiming salvation to all the peoples of the Earth, just as the prophets foretold.
The story of the Day of Pentecost, told in Luke's second chapter, reflects this literary movement.

Pentecost is an ancient Jewish harvest festival. It's observance predates the Christian feast by many thousands of years. To the Jews it was the Festival of "First Fruits" or "The Reaping". Seeds planted in the preceding Fall would be just ready for the harvest roughly fifty days after the Festival of Passover. It was the first fresh food the people would have after a long winter of stored provisions. Remember that at the time that John the Baptist appears in the early chapters of Luke's Gospel, it has been many centuries since the voice of a prophet has been heard in Israel. John testifies that Jesus is the long awaited Messiah. And the prophets of old testified that when the Messiah appeared, God would give the gift of prophesy to all the chosen people of God.

The rush of wind (the sign of God's Spirit moving), the proclamation of the Messiah in many tongues, on the day of the Festival of the Reaping, the Day of the First Fruits, is the fulfillment of this promise. The Messiah has been revealed and the prophesies of his reign are now coming true. The Spirit's gift of tongues is the sign that the Kingdom has arrived. The new wine, the fresh food, has been made manifest.

Years ago I heard a priest challenge his congregation on the anniversary of the Feast of Pentecost to claim the language that the Spirit had given them and to proclaim the Gospel as only they were able. He allowed as he had been given the gift of Music and described how he had always tried to proclaim the gospel in how he played. He asked us what language God had given us. My answer at the time was Fortran - the old computer language. I think if you asked me today, I might answer more accurately that I have been gifted with the ability to speak the language of Science. And, on occasion, I've tried to proclaim the Gospel in that language to people who speak it fluently.

What is your "other" language? How have you been intentional in proclaiming the Gospel to the people on the fringe of the Church's life who speak that language? If you haven't been yet, what would have to change so that you could?

Lenten Bible Study Day 21; Luke 24

Luke, Chapter 24 (NRSV)

In a few weeks, we'll be able to respond appropriately to today's reading. But for now, in the middle of Lent, do you at least recognize what a surprising and sudden shift the gospel story has taken? Even though we know how this part of the story ends, the suddenness and the brevity with which the events of the resurrection are recounted is breathtaking. The first word in the 24th chapter is "But". God's word to our human choice. It seems too good to be true, and it's over too fast. I want to hear more…

I've always had a deep sense of sympathy for the confusion the two disciples walking to Emmaus experience as they are joined by the risen Jesus. They are reacting just as we would, with disappointment, fear and a sense of awe at how quickly things turned wrong. They aren't expecting God's definitive act in human history. No one really is. Not even the disciples who traveled with and studied from God's Son for three years - and heard him tell them again and again what was going to happen.

So now the mysterious stranger who appears on the road starts all over again. He begins to open up the whole of the Scriptures to these two anonymous disciples. He shows how the teachings of Moses pointed directly to what Jesus has experienced. He shows how the prophets have been pointing both to the suffering that Jesus has endured as the Messiah, as the literal personification of God's chosen people, and to the exultation that has suddenly happened.

And the two disciples suddenly start to connect the dots of the story. They recognize a thread that has been running through their story from the very beginning; and they see. It is as if the scales are falling from their eyes and they understand. But they still don't recognize who Jesus is.

It is in the final act of this short account that we learn something very important. We see Jesus is the breaking of the bread; in his act of sacrifice. It is at the moment of the fraction that he becomes manifest to his disciples. It is because he is the Lamb, he is the new Passover, he is the Way.

We don't often hear the story of the Road to Emmaus read in church. Its reading is part of Evening Prayer on Easter Day. Most of us are too exhausted by the events of the Triduum (the three days that bring us to Easter) to go back to church for one more service. But this lesson is deeply symbolic of what the Church has been doing in the days leading up to Easter. We have been hearing the stories of God and our clergy have been opening up scripture to us and showing us what it teaches about the Messiah. By the action of the Holy Spirit, our hearts have responded to these teachings. And then we have come to a moment of a shared meal. And we break the bread. We see the presentation the Messiah to God's people. (Listen carefully to what is said as the bread is broken after the long prayer recounting salvation history that follows the offertory.)

And, every now and then, the scales fall from our eyes and we see Jesus. Jesus who has been there all along, but is now revealed to us in the breaking of the bread as God's passover for us.

In my experience it doesn't happen all the time. But it does happen. And when it does I am changed, sometimes a little, sometimes a great deal, each time.

When did this moment last happen for you? Are you willing to make yourself available so that you are there the next time it happens?

Lenten Bible Study Day 20; Luke 23

Luke, Chapter 23 (NRSV)

Each Palm Sunday we read what is essentially the entire Passion Narrative. Every third year we read Luke's version. I hope you recognize this reading today. If you're like me, you read the first part of the chapter quickly, partly because you "know" it, and partly because you know what's coming at the end of it. It's hard to read of Jesus' death. It's hard to hear it recounted every year. And in our horror at the words, I wonder if we sometimes miss the point Luke makes in the beginning of this chapter.

Jesus is taken to Pilate and accused of three offenses in his first trial. Two of the offenses we, the readers of the Gospel, know are false. The third charge is really for Herod, the King that the Romans recognize, to determine. Jesus is taken to Herod for his second trial at Pilate's command. Herod treats Jesus with contempt, but does not find him guilty of an offense. Herod sends him back to Pilate. (There's an odd detail in the narrative - that as a result of Herod's actions, he and Pilate became "friends" that day. That's something that needs a book length essay to unpack. I'll put it on my list…) When Jesus arrives back at Pilate's court, he is given a third trial. And Pilate finds him innocent again. Three trials in this chapter and Jesus is found innocent in all three.

And then he is crucified in spite of that finding of innocence because the crowds demand his death.

This passion narrative clearly emphasizes Jesus innocence - even having him dressed in a white, spotless robe by King Herod making his identity as the innocent lamb more obvious. It is in that white robe that he appears before Pilate that final time. It's in that white robe that he is condemned by the people. And that odd details helps to unlock a critical subtext that we sometimes miss in the reading of this narrative.

Jesus is called the Lamb of God by John the Baptist. These events are happening at time of the Feast of the Passover, which is a yearly commemoration of the day when Moses told the people of Israel to kill a lamb, smear its blood on their doorpost so that the Angel of Death would passover them. It's happening on the day that the Temple courtyard in Jerusalem is seeing the wholesale sacrifice of lambs by the priests of Israel so that the gathered people of the nation could keep passover. And just to make the point even more obvious, writers of that time report that the slaughtered lambs were bound to a cross of sticks and carried home that afternoon to be consumed at the Passover feast of each family. Truly, we are supposed to see that Jesus is Lamb of God.

One of the expectations people of that moment had of their expected Messiah was that he would bring about the Passover of the Messiah. It was expected to be the completion of the Passover that was instituted at the time of Exodus. It would signal the return of the miracle of the manna (remember what we read about the feeding of the crowds in the wilderness?). It was to be the signal that the people would, from this time forward, be fed with the bread of the angels.

Luke, like the other gospel writers, is telling us that Jesus is God's Lamb, this is God's passover, and the Passover the Messiah has come in the moment of Jesus' death. And the bread we now eat as we commemorate the events of those days, is the what the manna of the Exodus pointed toward.

Yesterday we ate the bread of angels. I don't know how many of us recognize it as such because our meal has become some common to us. But it was, according to the Gospels, the bread of angels. It is the food that gives us life in the midst of our wilderness wandering.

If you were able to be in church yesterday, were you aware of what was really happening?

Lenten Bible Study Day 19; Luke 22

Luke, Chapter 22 (NRSV)

We have come now to the heart of the Passion Narrative in Luke. All four gospels have a passion narrative. Scholars believe that the passion accounts were the first stories the Church told about Jesus as they began to preach. It's not surprising that gospel writers took the story and adapted it to their individual use.

Luke's way of telling the story has two particularly surprising details included here in this chapter that are not found in the other three versions. First, when Judas is unmasked as the betrayer and runs off to bring the military, the disciples respond in that solemn, tragic moment with an argument about who is the greatest among them. (That is an argument that happens in other places in the other gospels, but in Luke it is placed immediately after the act of betrayal.) The second is that Jesus tells his disciples that they must now sell what they can to arm themselves with weapons of war.

What is Luke trying to tell us? He's clearly arranging stories about Jesus in a way to make a point to his readers, in this case, in one of the most dramatic moments of his narrative, he's essentially underlining this points. But what are they?

If you read what scholars have written throughout history on this particular passage, it's clear that no one is really sure what Luke intends here. That's important to note. There's no simple way to understand what the Bible is teaching us, and there's frequently no consensus among the people who spend their lives trying to understand it. As I've mentioned previously, anyone who wants to claim that the Bible is a simple and clear instruction manual about how we are to live our lives just isn't being accurate.

So what do I think? I think it's important to keep in mind the arc of the dramatic narrative in this chapter. Jesus is betrayed by Judas. Then the disciples argue who shall be greatest - a dispute that Jesus has told them has no place among his followers. Then Jesus says that even Peter is going to betray him. The account lists betrayal after betrayal. It seems to me that the disciple's argument is meant to be as shocking in the setting as are Judas' actions and as will be Peter's threefold denial. Everyone is moving to abandon Jesus. It is as the prophecies and the psalms predict, the Messiah will be a man without friends betrayed by those who have been close to him. Luke is putting the account of the disciples argument where he puts it to show that they too are actively betraying Jesus immediately after receiving the Pascal meal in his presence.

The swords reference is generally understood to not mean that Jesus' followers are supposed to arm themselves and act violently. Jesus does not do that for himself. And in numerous other places he tells his disciples that they must not do that. It seems to me that Jesus is rebuking the disciples because whatever willpower that they have had to follow him, to take up their crosses, to stay disciplined, has vanished in this moment of Passover. He warns them that in the coming days this must not happen. They must be disciplined in the same way that members of the military are disciplined in their behavior. They must not lose their will to follow him. Or they too will be lost. It is a hard way to have to travel, but they must face it with courage, not as they have in this moment.

How willing are we to follow? How well have we kept to the discipline that Jesus asks of us?

As you answer those questions for yourself, keep in mind that this is not the end of the Gospel. The disciples who are scattering are reconciled with Jesus and though they fail this test - and others - they ultimately pass through the same trial as he does. We fail, and we try again. And again.

Lenten Bible Study Day 18; Luke 21

Luke, Chapter 21 (NRSV)

In Matthew, Mark and Luke's gospels, in the days before Jesus' Passion, he begins to warn his disciples about a time that is coming when they too will face their own trials. The technical language is that this is Jesus' apocalypse - a word that means an "uncovering of hidden knowledge". This is Jesus' prophesy of what is coming for his Church.

It's odd then isn't it that the warning are preceded in this chapter with the story of the "Widow's pence"? The setting is the courtyard of the Temple. According to historical accounts of Herod's temple, people would put their offerings into the treasury by placing them in "trumpets bells" which would then funnel the coins into the storehouse. The more money you placed in the bell, the louder the racket. Generous givers would be easily recognized by the crowds. The contrast of a widow placing two small coins in the funnels and the clatter and noise of the larger gifts is what Jesus is drawing our attention toward.

I struggled with this story for a long time. If you read it out of context then it would seem that Jesus is telling people that they need to give everything they have to the Temple - an institution who's financial doings Jesus has already strongly condemned. It's one thing to encourage the very rich to give away what they have, but why commend a woman who has just impoverished herself to support a corrupt system?

It's when this story is read in the context of the rest of the chapter that I can make sense of what is happening. This widow has just given away everything and is trusting that God will provide what she now needs. It's her faith that Jesus is commending, not her support of the Temple. Because it's faith in God, he warns his disciples by pointing out this vignette to them, that will allow them to pass through the trials that are coming for God's people.

All of the dangers and horrors that are coming must be seen, through the eyes of faith, as signs that our redemption is drawing near. Trying to save ourselves or trying to avoid what is coming is going to be impossible. But we are not to lose heart because even though we have nothing but God's promise to sustain us, it will be enough. That's the faith he's asking us to have when he seems to be distant from us.

I wish I could tell you that I had such faith. I don't know that I've met many people who have. I've met many who are trying to though.

Maybe today, this Saturday in the beginning of March, it's enough to know that we are trying to make our way to a place of such faith. Plant a flag on a distant hill - and as you make your way forward - try to move closer to the flag whenever you can. Set this goal for yourself, to move toward enough faith in God that you don't worry as much about the future, that you can on occasion make decisions based on faith rather than fear.

Look at the weather. There's no snow this weekend. Spring is coming. God is at work in creation and we shall see new life even after a winter of storms and cold.

Lenten Bible Study Day 17; Luke 20

Luke, Chapter 20 (NRSV)

Today's reading in Luke has Luke's quote of, what I believe, is the most frequently quoted Old Testament verse in the New Testament.

The stone that the builders rejected
has become the cornerstone.

It's a quote from Psalm 118:22. Jesus uses it to describe himself and his ministry in the Gospel according to Luke, and in the book of Acts we'll soon read of Peter using the same quote to explain who Jesus is to his own people. Clearly there's something here that Luke, the author of both books, wants us to pay attention to, something that the Early Church found very important.

One of the great scandals to the Jewish community was the claim by some of their fellow Jews that the Messiah had come, walked among them, and had been killed. The idea was frankly blasphemous in their minds. The Messiah was God's own anointed and was supposed to live forever.

The only way you can understand the full meaning of Jesus' life is to see him as the personification of the suffering servant theme that runs throughout some of the prophetic writings, and as the personification of the triumphant signal that the Kingdom of God - where there will be no more death, and God's will is fully realized - has begun.

If you don't accept the resurrection, it's hard to recognize the second part of Jesus' identity. If you accept the resurrection, but can't handle the thought of God suffering then it's impossible to recognize the first part. It is exactly as Jesus says next after he quotes Psalm 118. He is the stumbling block to many. There are parts of his teaching and life that are easy to hear and there are parts that are scandalous. And different people are scandalized by different parts. Blessed is the one who finds no offense at all. (I haven't met that person yet by the way. I'm certainly not one.)

The other stories in this chapter illustrate again and again how Jesus' words and actions create scandals to the people who encounter them. The way they respond to the scandal tells whether or not they recognize who Jesus is, and what he is doing on Earth.

Jesus asks his disciples directly, earlier in the Gospel, "Who do you say that I am". The "you" in that question can be either directed to each of us personally or to all of us as those who are trying follow. Who do we say that Jesus is, how do we, do you personally, respond to the scandals of his words and teaching?

That, more than anything else, is the key question for us to ponder in Luke's Gospel. We hear the story of the Messiah who has come, we have read about the signs that he has performed. Now how shall we respond?

Do you remember the words of the father who's son Jesus healed? "Lord I believe. Help my unbelief!" (Mark 9:24). I find myself making that prayer as I reflect on my own answer to Jesus' question. "Who do you say I am." Who is Jesus for you? How do you say it?