The glory of grace
Commentary
How do you measure glory? That is the question that recently came back with me from leading a study tour of Paul's journeys in Greece and Turkey. Most of the major sights that impress themselves upon your memory from such a trip, of course, have little to do with Paul directly. The Acropolis in Athens, the Temple of Apollo in Corinth, and Poseidon's Temple at Sounion were certainly all seen by the apostle, but they were already centuries old when he saw them. Work on the majestic facade of the Celsus Library in Ephesus would not even begin until some 50 years after the last time Paul walked that city's streets. Travel to the site of ancient Philippi, and the towering ruins you see are of basilicas that bore testimony to the ultimate impact of Paul's mission, but certainly never entered his wildest imaginations.
These grand monuments, and others like them in places like Delphi, are testimony to the glory of ancient cultures. Many of these sites are currently being restored in anticipation of an influx of tourists for the 2004 Olympics in Athens. To see the modern scaffolding and the huge cranes being used in these efforts only underscores the tremendous achievement of those ancient peoples in erecting these structures without the benefit of modern machinery and technology. One cannot help but be impressed by the glory of a culture that could accomplish so much with so little.
But if you pause to really think about what lies behind the expression "so little," you may have a different take on the "glory" as well. Whatever the engineering techniques that were used to transport and raise the monolithic columns of Apollo's temple, or to cut and carve the marble statues on the porticos of the Parthenon, they were powered by the sweat and blood of an enormous number of people. Many, perhaps most, of those people would have had no say in whether they would give their lives -- literally -- to these projects, and certainly no share in the "glory" attributed to them by others. Such ancient glory was achieved by the forced subjugation of others, either by slavery or other forms of economic servitude.
We take some consolation in assuring ourselves that in the modern world we no longer measure glory in these terms. But such consolation is misplaced. Saddam Hussein wishes to fashion himself in the glory of King Nebuchadnezzar, and the means he employs to subjugate others to accomplish that end are no less brutal than those used by his ancient role model. Examples of similar despots could be drawn from around the world. Recent months have seen story after story come out about executives in our own country who have sought to build corporate and personal glory by taking advantage of those who worked under them.
If human glory is too often bound up in the ability to exploit others, the opening chapters of John's Gospel and the Letter to the Ephesians assure us that God's glory is rooted in grace.
Jeremiah 31:7-14
This brief Old Testament lesson incorporates two separate oracles by Jeremiah. They are among more than a dozen short oracles that have been gathered together in chapters 30 and 31 (see 30:1-3). The theme of the collection is restoration. The oracles promise that the judgments of not only the Babylonian exile that had begun in Jeremiah's lifetime, but also that of the scattering of the northern Israelite tribes more than a century earlier, would end. God's grace would again be extended to both Israel and Judah.
The first of the two oracles in the lectionary reading is found in 31:7-9. Several indicators point to the fact that it was concerned with the restoration of Israel and not the return of Judean exiles. Most often Jeremiah uses the name "Jacob" to refer to the northern tribes, or at least to the whole of God's people in a reunion of both the northern and southern tribes. Additionally, the oracle refers to "the remnant of Israel" (borrowing a predominate image in the Isaianic tradition) brought "from the land of the north, and ... from the farthest parts of the earth" and to God's having become "a father to Israel" in that "Ephraim is my firstborn."
But even though the oracle is about Israel's restoration, it nevertheless seems to be directed at the people of Judah. It opens by directing them to "Sing aloud with gladness for Jacob" and to pray that the LORD will save "the remnant of Israel." Yet, given the calamity that is befalling Judah in Jeremiah's lifetime, why should they be so concerned with their northern neighbors? Perhaps one point of the oracle is that those who can have the faith to believe that God can restore Israel after more than a century should have little difficulty trusting that God can deliver them in their current distress.
If the first oracle here is directed at Judah, the oracle in 31:10-14 is explicitly directed at the foreign nations. Both historically and rhetorically, however, this address must be understood as apostrophe. Although the words are rhetorically directed at the nations, the audience is nevertheless the people of Judah and the remnants of Israel. By use of the apostrophe the prophet emphasizes that the God of Israel controls the course of all nations. Israel was "scattered" because God had caused it, not because other nations and their gods had overcome them. And if God had scattered the people in the first place, then God could also once again gather them "as a shepherd a flock." Nevertheless there is both a concession and a reminder that in their own political strength Israel and Judah are vulnerable before greater political and military powers. "For the LORD has ransomed Jacob, and has redeemed him from hands too strong for him" (v. 11).
The restoration of Israel is to reunion with the southern tribes. They will be assembled "on the heights of Zion" and will enjoy renewed prosperity in every aspect of life (v. 12). Those that in the past had mourned the death of their nation will rejoice in song and dance. But Jeremiah emphasizes that this reversal of fortune will be the direct result of God's blessings and not any accomplishment of the people themselves: "my people shall be satisfied with my bounty, says the LORD" (v. 14).
Ephesians 1:3-14
Many of the loftiest theological themes of John's prologue are also to be found here in the opening of the Letter to the Ephesians. John speaks of the Word who was with God in the beginning and through whom the world was made. Ephesians speaks of believers having been chosen by God "in Christ before the foundation of the world." Three of the key words in the prologue to John are "glory," "grace," and "truth," and each of them plays an important role in the opening of Ephesians.
Whereas Paul typically began his letters with prayers of thanksgiving to God for the recipients of the letter, Ephesians begins with a kind of prayer of thanksgiving for what God has done generally "in Christ." The phrase "in Christ" is a key idea in Ephesians, occurring repeatedly in this passage and throughout the letter either directly or with a pronoun or other designation having "Christ" as its antecedent (for example, "in the Beloved" in 1:6). Basic to this expression is the idea of relationship with Christ. This relationship is understood in the first instance in familial terms. The "God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ" has also "destined us for adoption as God's children through Jesus Christ." This adoption has been accomplished both through and "to the praise of God's glorious grace."
Christ is related to the Christian in other ways as well. Christ is the redeemer who brings forgiveness through the sacrifice of his own blood (v. 7). He is the instructor who has trained us "with all wisdom and insight" into "the mystery of God's will" (vv. 8-9). He is the one who has bequeathed an inheritance to us that we "might live for the praise of God's glory" (vv. 11-12). He is the object of faith and the one who seals us "the promise of the Holy Spirit" (v. 13).
Another distinguishing feature of Ephesians is the scope of its theological vision. Here in this opening passage the reader is led from "before the foundation of the world" (v. 4) through the "fullness of time" (v. 10). Not only is all of time taken in by this sweep, but also all of the created world as well. The "fullness of time" is understood as the point when all "things in heaven and things on earth" will have been gathered in Christ. It is this genuinely cosmic conception of blessing that has been bestowed upon Christians (v. 3).
To those living in the Greco-Roman world, this claim was truly astounding. Their concept of the universe was of a predominately hostile place of which the earth was the worst dregs settled to the core. The salvation they longed for was to escape the physical realm by the flight of the soul to a spiritual realm beyond the reaches of the material cosmos. Yet Ephesians offers salvation not as escape from the cosmos but as redemption extended to all things in the heavenly and earthly realms. Because Christ's redemption will encompass this world, believers have "obtained an inheritance" now even as they acknowledge that it also remains "destined according to the purpose of him who accomplishes all things according to the counsel of his will" (v. 11). Salvation is present if yet unfulfilled, pledged and certain if yet still awaiting the fullness of time.
The purpose toward which everything in the universe is moving is "the praise of God's glory" (v. 12). Again, this has been the purpose of creation since "before the foundation of the world." The reason for praise is the "word of truth, the gospel of your salvation" (v. 13). The "praise of God's glory" is rooted in the "redemption of God's own people" (v. 14). It is not, however, that God deserves praise and glory for redeeming us because we are so praiseworthy, but precisely because the truth about us is that we are so unworthy of such redemption. The purpose for humanity has always been that we "be holy and blameless" before God. God's glory is precisely the riches of divine grace that still reached out in love to redeem us in Christ through "the forgiveness of our trespasses" even at the cost of Christ's own blood (v. 7).
John 1:(1-9) 10-18
Although certainly among the most profound and moving passages in all of the scriptures, the preacher (not to mention the congregation) can hardly avoid the feeling of "What, again?" upon seeing this gospel reading assigned in the lectionary for the second Sunday after Christmas. This marks the third time in as many weeks that all or some portion of the prologue to John's Gospel has appeared. John 1:6-9 was part of the appointed text for Advent 3, and 1:1-14 was the gospel reading for Christmas. Consequently on this Sunday it is probably best to focus attention on 1:10-18, and especially verses 14-18, as the "new" part of the reading.
For those needing a more liturgical/theological and less pragmatic reason for focusing on this section of the John's prologue, then recall that this is also the Sunday before Epiphany. The dominant motifs of Epiphany are light and glory, both of which also figure prominently in the Gospel of John. The theme of light was already introduced earlier in the prologue (1:3b-5), and here in 1:14-18 John brings in the image of glory by relating it to the ideas of grace and truth.
A key aspect of John's theology is that although God's glory should be apparent to all, far and away the majority of people are oblivious to its presence. The world came into being through God's glorious Word (1:3a), and yet neither the world generally nor even the Word's "own people" recognized his presence or accepted his ministry (1:10-11). Nevertheless there were some who did receive him through belief in his name who became "Children of God" (1:12-13). The highly sectarian nature of the Johannine community is clearly evidenced here. They, and nearly they alone, have "seen his glory" (v. 14). What enabled them to see what others could or would not (was it their belief, or did even their belief arise from their having already been "born, not of blood or of the will of the flesh ... but of God"?) is of course one of the great points of dispute in Johannine theology.
Rather than getting bogged down in this debate homiletically (and doubtless dragging in a lot of Pauline and Reformation-era theology in the process), the preacher is probably better served to explore the ways that all of the Word's "own people" at times fail to accept him. When this evangelist spoke of "his own people [who] did not accept him," he meant "the Jews" who had not adopted the Christian faith. We can too easily be drawn into this gospel's "us vs. them" sectarianism. The fact is that Christians also fail to recognize the Word's continuing glorious presence around them. We, too, can be blinded by the darkness and need to re-open our eyes to the glorious light of the gospel.
This divine glory is described as being "full of grace and truth." As with so many terms in the Johannine literature, the depths and ranges of meaning associated with these words are vast. Taking this passage in relation to Jeremiah reading suggests one particular aspect worth highlighting. To understand the fullness of God's grace toward us requires that we also admit the truth about our need for forgiveness and redemption. One reason for the exuberance of the joy of the restored Israelites was the very severity of the circumstances to which their disobedience had brought them. God's judgment was just, and so God's grace was all the more remarkable.
That we, as well as the ancient Israelites, are in need of such grace is emphasized by the statement that we have received "grace upon grace." From the "law ... given through Moses" we learned not only what God's standards of justice are, but also how far below those standards our behavior usually falls. If the gift of the law was grace rather than judgment (as Jewish tradition rightly insists), then in the forgiveness and acceptance we have from God in Christ we have genuinely found "grace upon grace."
The theology of the John's prologue is emphatically incarnational. Over against the Docetism that was beginning to emerge at the time it was written, the Johannine literature insists "the Word became flesh and lived among us" (cf. 1 John 1:1-3). But rather than this human form obscuring the divine glory, it was precisely what made the revelation of the divine possible. Only the Son who "was with God, and [who] was God" could make God known.
Application
To nations who believed that their glory was in their ability to subjugate Israel and similarly relatively weak peoples, God declared through Jeremiah that the fate of Israel and all nations was under divine control. The proof of that control, moreover, was not in God's actions to bring judgment upon them but in the ability to restore them even when they seemed lost to history. To people who believed that the cosmos itself was so irredeemably corrupt that the only hope for salvation was in escape, Ephesians declares that God's glory will be demonstrated by bringing all things in the heavens and on the earth into restored relationship with God in Christ. To those for whom the presence of divine glory has been completely blocked by the darkness of sin, John's Gospel declares that "the light shines in the darkness" through the Word made flesh and that those who have seen him have indeed the divine glory that is "full of grace and truth."
The challenge for us, then, is to learn where to look for God's glory in the world. God's glory is not so much seen in the triumph over the enemies of God's people as in the grace that reaches out to redeem them in the first place. God's glory is in fact fulfilled in the redemption of all things and all peoples, not in the judgment and subjugation of some for the benefit of others. If we then are to share in the blessings of that glory, we likewise must become people of grace. Such grace does not deny the truth about ourselves or others; it simply underscores the full measure of God's glory that gives "grace upon grace" to us who need it. For that, all creation joins in "praise of God's glory."
An Alternative Application
Jeremiah 31:7-14. On the first Sunday of a new year people's thoughts are naturally drawn to reflecting on new beginnings. Given the uncertainties and anxieties of the past year or so, it is also important to be reminded that God remains sovereign over our world. The tone set by Jeremiah in these particular oracles is helpful in both regards. Clearly these oracles are set against the backdrop of divine judgment -- that is the very reason that Israel needs restoration. But judgment remains the unstated given in the background. The focus is firmly fixed on the promise of restoration and the blessings that God will bring in the future.
On New Year's Eve our people will no doubt have joined in joyous celebrations that included toasts and wishes for a prosperous year ahead. On this first Sunday of the new civil year, it is appropriate that the church, as well, gather in joyous celebration of what God has done for us, offered along with prayers for God's continued blessings for the future. Like ancient Israel and Judah, we certainly have much for which we need to repent, and many of the hardships we have faced may have been the judgments resulting from the natural consequences of actions we have taken at both the personal and communal level. Yet the message of the gospel is good news precisely to those who have had so much bad news. So begin the new year in celebration not only in the hotel ballrooms but in the sanctuary as well!
First Lesson Focus
Jeremiah 31:7-14
Is Jeremiah crazy? Surely he must have been to utter these words that we find in our Old Testament text. Let me tell you about the setting of these prophetic proclamations.
The year is 588 B.C. Jerusalem is being besieged by the armies of the Babylonian Empire, and the situation within Jerusalem's beleaguered walls is absolutely desperate. There is a shortage of food and water and both are being rationed. Gold and silver are worthless, because there is little to buy and all prices are inflated. Disease is spreading through the crowded population. Land has no value, and many are just trying to escape the city by night. The government, under the leadership of the puppet king Zedekiah, is helpless to give any aid. And even the prophet Jeremiah himself is in prison, labeled a traitor because he has advised surrender to the Babylonians.
It is in that situation, that desperate circumstance, that Jeremiah proclaims these two hymns of hope. (Form critically, both are hymns with the call to praise, the transitional word "for," and the body of the hymn telling what God has done or will do.) Both begin with the prophetic formula, "Thus says the Lord." Both are contained in what is known as The Little Book of Comfort in chapters 30 and 31. And both proclaim God's salvation of his covenant people. "The Lord has saved his people, the remnant of Israel," reads the first hymn (v. 7). "... the Lord has ransomed Jacob, and has redeemed him from hands too strong for him," proclaims the second.
The further amazing fact is that those words are addressed, not to the people under siege within the walls of Jerusalem, but to the victims of the first exile in 597 B.C. At that time, the upper-class citizens, the Davidic king and his court and the religious and political leaders of Judah were taken in chains to Babylonia. They are languishing there in exile when Jeremiah proclaims these words. Speaking on behalf of the Lord (note the use of "I" in vv. 8-9 and 13-14), the prophet announces that God will gather the exiles from "the north country" (the direction of the route from Babylonia) and bring them back to their own land and there give them an abundance of grain and wine and oil -- all of the necessities of life that come not from Baal, as Israel earlier thought (Jeremiah 2-3), but from the Lord. The people will come back repenting of their former sins (v. 9) and praising God for the goodness he showers upon them. Their sorrow will be turned into gladness and their want into abundance.
So certain are the redemption and restoration of Israel that Jeremiah proclaims them in a past tense, as if they have already taken place. "The Lord has saved ..." (v. 7). "The Lord has ransomed ... and redeemed ..." (v. 11). All of that Jeremiah announces from his prison while Jerusalem is under siege and the exiles of 597 B.C. are languishing in captivity. Surely Jeremiah must be crazy!
But Jeremiah is dealing with hope here, and perhaps we need to think about that. Certainly we carry lots of hopes around with us for the future, don't we? In fact, if we have no future hopes, our lives are full of despair and cynicism. People commit suicide when they see no exit, no way out of their situation, no hope for the morrow. Then life is desperate and doomed.
But of course there can be very foolish hopes, can't there? A large proportion of the population, many on food stamps and poor, keeps wasting its money buying lottery tickets in the hope that theirs will be the one lucky ticket among the millions sold. Or many in our overweight population continue to buy one faddish diet after another, in the hope that they can lose weight exercising and without sacrificing their favorite foods. Yes, there are very foolish hopes.
There are also hopes for the future that are based on shaky ground. We get so many crusades and causes in our society, all promising to deliver us from our difficulties into harmonious and peaceful live. If we can just get rid of something, we are promised -- sexism, racism, militarism, commercialism, you name it -- then life will be restored to goodness and earth will be fair again. Or we rely on education to make the perfect society, or on government programs. Or some maintain that if we join their religious group, it will solve all our problems. How many promises of happiness, success, and health have you heard from the TV hucksters?
Now certainly Jeremiah's situation was far more desperate than ours usually is. He lived in a time when a whole nation was crumbling around him and death was crawling up into the windows (Jeremiah 9:21). Every hope based on human goodness, human achievement, human cleverness, and progress was shattered. Mercy and kindness were in very short supply before the armies of empire, and goodness and love were lost somewhere in the rubble. But Jeremiah was given a word from God that could not be shaken and that undergirded a sure hope for the future. "I am a Father to Israel," said the Lord, "and Ephraim is my first-born" (31:9). Therefore "he who scattered Israel will gather him, and will keep him as a shepherd keeps his flock" (v. 10). God the Father and God the Shepherd; in that truth about God lay all certain hope.
And that can be ours too, can it not? for God is our Father as well as Israel's. Our Lord Jesus gave us permission to know God that way when he taught us to pray, "Our Father...." And as Paul says, he gives us his Spirit, so we may cry, "Abba! Father!" (Romans 8:14-15; Galatians 4:6-7). The church affirmed that we are children of God our Father when each one of us here this morning was baptized. For at that time we were told that God had adopted us as his children and that nothing could ever again wrest us from his loving hands and care.
But the Lord God is also our shepherd, isn't he, as he is the Shepherd of Israel. How old were you when you first could lisp out, "The Lord is my Shepherd?" As the Psalmist says, "We are his people and the sheep of his pasture" (Psalm 100:3), and Jesus Christ is our good Shepherd, who loves us so much that he even lay down his life for us sheep (John 10:11).
Amazingly, however, that Father and that good Shepherd of Israel and also now of us, that one Triune God is also the ruler of the universe, with all power over nature and time and the future of the human race. And when that God -- that Father and that Shepherd -- says he is going to redeem his people Israel, he will do it. And when the Lord tells them they have a future full of hope, that is absolute truth. Jeremiah, in his desperate situation, knows that, you see, from the Word of God given to him. And now you and I know it too from the Word of God given to us.
So is there hope for our future, good Christians? Even when everything looks hopeless? Is there a goodness beyond all our imagining toward which the Lord God is leading us? And can we therefore rejoice and be radiant, as Israel was bidden to be, on this second Sunday after our Christmas celebration? Yes, dear friends, yes indeed. For God is our Father and Christ is our Shepherd and we are God's people.
Preaching The Psalm
Psalm 147:12-20
This psalm was likely written for the people of Jerusalem after their return from exile (see vv. 2-3) and was intended to remind the hearers that the same God who runs the cosmos also cares for Israel.
In the verses designated by the lectionary for today, this theme shows up in the reference to God's sending of snow and hail (v. 16) and winds and flowing waters (v. 18) upon the earth. We should be careful not to connect those verses directly to verse 20 -- "He has not dealt thus with any other nation" -- for the psalmist is not saying that God's actions through nature are unique gifts to Israel. That would be the opposite of Jesus' assertion that God "makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the righteous and on the unrighteous" (Matthew 5:45).
Rather, the psalmist wants his audience to take heart that the God who has power over the functions of nature guards Israel. This mighty God is the one who is now the security of Jerusalem, who "strengthens the bars of your gates" and "blesses your children within you" (v. 13). Comfort might also be taken from the inverse of that point as well: the God who is the Savior and Security of Israel is the one who controls the cosmos.
A preaching theme from all of this is "From where does our security come?" a subject especially critical in our post-9/11 world, in the world where little girls have been snatched from their own bedrooms, in the world where a sniper instills Washington, D.C., and the states around it with fear. There can be no easy answers, but we can talk about the ultimate security of living our lives in God's world -- yes, this is God's world, as this psalm proclaims; it is not the terror-makers' world. And we can talk about the rituals of protection, including prayers for safety and the placing of our loved ones and ourselves in God's hands.
Vanessa Ochs, author of Safe and Sound: Protecting Your Child in an Unpredictable World (Viking Penguin, 1995), tells of the rituals parents through the ages have undertaken to guard their children, everything from amulets and talismans to incantations, confessions of sins, and pictures of saints. Then, speaking of her own children and her feelings of fear for their safety, she concludes, "Only when I began to focus on the daily ceremonies of protection -- the prayers, blessings, goodnights, and goodbyes that are part of our ritual regime -- was I able to relinquish the extreme overprotection and protect, as I had hoped, adequately."
An aside: The Catholic lectionary uses these verses as the "Psalm for the Year: A Reading" for the Solemnity of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ (formerly called the Feast of Corpus Christi) celebrated on the second Sunday after Pentecost. The observance honors the "real presence" of Christ in the Eucharist, and the psalm connection is in verse 14b, "he fills you with the finest of wheat."
These grand monuments, and others like them in places like Delphi, are testimony to the glory of ancient cultures. Many of these sites are currently being restored in anticipation of an influx of tourists for the 2004 Olympics in Athens. To see the modern scaffolding and the huge cranes being used in these efforts only underscores the tremendous achievement of those ancient peoples in erecting these structures without the benefit of modern machinery and technology. One cannot help but be impressed by the glory of a culture that could accomplish so much with so little.
But if you pause to really think about what lies behind the expression "so little," you may have a different take on the "glory" as well. Whatever the engineering techniques that were used to transport and raise the monolithic columns of Apollo's temple, or to cut and carve the marble statues on the porticos of the Parthenon, they were powered by the sweat and blood of an enormous number of people. Many, perhaps most, of those people would have had no say in whether they would give their lives -- literally -- to these projects, and certainly no share in the "glory" attributed to them by others. Such ancient glory was achieved by the forced subjugation of others, either by slavery or other forms of economic servitude.
We take some consolation in assuring ourselves that in the modern world we no longer measure glory in these terms. But such consolation is misplaced. Saddam Hussein wishes to fashion himself in the glory of King Nebuchadnezzar, and the means he employs to subjugate others to accomplish that end are no less brutal than those used by his ancient role model. Examples of similar despots could be drawn from around the world. Recent months have seen story after story come out about executives in our own country who have sought to build corporate and personal glory by taking advantage of those who worked under them.
If human glory is too often bound up in the ability to exploit others, the opening chapters of John's Gospel and the Letter to the Ephesians assure us that God's glory is rooted in grace.
Jeremiah 31:7-14
This brief Old Testament lesson incorporates two separate oracles by Jeremiah. They are among more than a dozen short oracles that have been gathered together in chapters 30 and 31 (see 30:1-3). The theme of the collection is restoration. The oracles promise that the judgments of not only the Babylonian exile that had begun in Jeremiah's lifetime, but also that of the scattering of the northern Israelite tribes more than a century earlier, would end. God's grace would again be extended to both Israel and Judah.
The first of the two oracles in the lectionary reading is found in 31:7-9. Several indicators point to the fact that it was concerned with the restoration of Israel and not the return of Judean exiles. Most often Jeremiah uses the name "Jacob" to refer to the northern tribes, or at least to the whole of God's people in a reunion of both the northern and southern tribes. Additionally, the oracle refers to "the remnant of Israel" (borrowing a predominate image in the Isaianic tradition) brought "from the land of the north, and ... from the farthest parts of the earth" and to God's having become "a father to Israel" in that "Ephraim is my firstborn."
But even though the oracle is about Israel's restoration, it nevertheless seems to be directed at the people of Judah. It opens by directing them to "Sing aloud with gladness for Jacob" and to pray that the LORD will save "the remnant of Israel." Yet, given the calamity that is befalling Judah in Jeremiah's lifetime, why should they be so concerned with their northern neighbors? Perhaps one point of the oracle is that those who can have the faith to believe that God can restore Israel after more than a century should have little difficulty trusting that God can deliver them in their current distress.
If the first oracle here is directed at Judah, the oracle in 31:10-14 is explicitly directed at the foreign nations. Both historically and rhetorically, however, this address must be understood as apostrophe. Although the words are rhetorically directed at the nations, the audience is nevertheless the people of Judah and the remnants of Israel. By use of the apostrophe the prophet emphasizes that the God of Israel controls the course of all nations. Israel was "scattered" because God had caused it, not because other nations and their gods had overcome them. And if God had scattered the people in the first place, then God could also once again gather them "as a shepherd a flock." Nevertheless there is both a concession and a reminder that in their own political strength Israel and Judah are vulnerable before greater political and military powers. "For the LORD has ransomed Jacob, and has redeemed him from hands too strong for him" (v. 11).
The restoration of Israel is to reunion with the southern tribes. They will be assembled "on the heights of Zion" and will enjoy renewed prosperity in every aspect of life (v. 12). Those that in the past had mourned the death of their nation will rejoice in song and dance. But Jeremiah emphasizes that this reversal of fortune will be the direct result of God's blessings and not any accomplishment of the people themselves: "my people shall be satisfied with my bounty, says the LORD" (v. 14).
Ephesians 1:3-14
Many of the loftiest theological themes of John's prologue are also to be found here in the opening of the Letter to the Ephesians. John speaks of the Word who was with God in the beginning and through whom the world was made. Ephesians speaks of believers having been chosen by God "in Christ before the foundation of the world." Three of the key words in the prologue to John are "glory," "grace," and "truth," and each of them plays an important role in the opening of Ephesians.
Whereas Paul typically began his letters with prayers of thanksgiving to God for the recipients of the letter, Ephesians begins with a kind of prayer of thanksgiving for what God has done generally "in Christ." The phrase "in Christ" is a key idea in Ephesians, occurring repeatedly in this passage and throughout the letter either directly or with a pronoun or other designation having "Christ" as its antecedent (for example, "in the Beloved" in 1:6). Basic to this expression is the idea of relationship with Christ. This relationship is understood in the first instance in familial terms. The "God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ" has also "destined us for adoption as God's children through Jesus Christ." This adoption has been accomplished both through and "to the praise of God's glorious grace."
Christ is related to the Christian in other ways as well. Christ is the redeemer who brings forgiveness through the sacrifice of his own blood (v. 7). He is the instructor who has trained us "with all wisdom and insight" into "the mystery of God's will" (vv. 8-9). He is the one who has bequeathed an inheritance to us that we "might live for the praise of God's glory" (vv. 11-12). He is the object of faith and the one who seals us "the promise of the Holy Spirit" (v. 13).
Another distinguishing feature of Ephesians is the scope of its theological vision. Here in this opening passage the reader is led from "before the foundation of the world" (v. 4) through the "fullness of time" (v. 10). Not only is all of time taken in by this sweep, but also all of the created world as well. The "fullness of time" is understood as the point when all "things in heaven and things on earth" will have been gathered in Christ. It is this genuinely cosmic conception of blessing that has been bestowed upon Christians (v. 3).
To those living in the Greco-Roman world, this claim was truly astounding. Their concept of the universe was of a predominately hostile place of which the earth was the worst dregs settled to the core. The salvation they longed for was to escape the physical realm by the flight of the soul to a spiritual realm beyond the reaches of the material cosmos. Yet Ephesians offers salvation not as escape from the cosmos but as redemption extended to all things in the heavenly and earthly realms. Because Christ's redemption will encompass this world, believers have "obtained an inheritance" now even as they acknowledge that it also remains "destined according to the purpose of him who accomplishes all things according to the counsel of his will" (v. 11). Salvation is present if yet unfulfilled, pledged and certain if yet still awaiting the fullness of time.
The purpose toward which everything in the universe is moving is "the praise of God's glory" (v. 12). Again, this has been the purpose of creation since "before the foundation of the world." The reason for praise is the "word of truth, the gospel of your salvation" (v. 13). The "praise of God's glory" is rooted in the "redemption of God's own people" (v. 14). It is not, however, that God deserves praise and glory for redeeming us because we are so praiseworthy, but precisely because the truth about us is that we are so unworthy of such redemption. The purpose for humanity has always been that we "be holy and blameless" before God. God's glory is precisely the riches of divine grace that still reached out in love to redeem us in Christ through "the forgiveness of our trespasses" even at the cost of Christ's own blood (v. 7).
John 1:(1-9) 10-18
Although certainly among the most profound and moving passages in all of the scriptures, the preacher (not to mention the congregation) can hardly avoid the feeling of "What, again?" upon seeing this gospel reading assigned in the lectionary for the second Sunday after Christmas. This marks the third time in as many weeks that all or some portion of the prologue to John's Gospel has appeared. John 1:6-9 was part of the appointed text for Advent 3, and 1:1-14 was the gospel reading for Christmas. Consequently on this Sunday it is probably best to focus attention on 1:10-18, and especially verses 14-18, as the "new" part of the reading.
For those needing a more liturgical/theological and less pragmatic reason for focusing on this section of the John's prologue, then recall that this is also the Sunday before Epiphany. The dominant motifs of Epiphany are light and glory, both of which also figure prominently in the Gospel of John. The theme of light was already introduced earlier in the prologue (1:3b-5), and here in 1:14-18 John brings in the image of glory by relating it to the ideas of grace and truth.
A key aspect of John's theology is that although God's glory should be apparent to all, far and away the majority of people are oblivious to its presence. The world came into being through God's glorious Word (1:3a), and yet neither the world generally nor even the Word's "own people" recognized his presence or accepted his ministry (1:10-11). Nevertheless there were some who did receive him through belief in his name who became "Children of God" (1:12-13). The highly sectarian nature of the Johannine community is clearly evidenced here. They, and nearly they alone, have "seen his glory" (v. 14). What enabled them to see what others could or would not (was it their belief, or did even their belief arise from their having already been "born, not of blood or of the will of the flesh ... but of God"?) is of course one of the great points of dispute in Johannine theology.
Rather than getting bogged down in this debate homiletically (and doubtless dragging in a lot of Pauline and Reformation-era theology in the process), the preacher is probably better served to explore the ways that all of the Word's "own people" at times fail to accept him. When this evangelist spoke of "his own people [who] did not accept him," he meant "the Jews" who had not adopted the Christian faith. We can too easily be drawn into this gospel's "us vs. them" sectarianism. The fact is that Christians also fail to recognize the Word's continuing glorious presence around them. We, too, can be blinded by the darkness and need to re-open our eyes to the glorious light of the gospel.
This divine glory is described as being "full of grace and truth." As with so many terms in the Johannine literature, the depths and ranges of meaning associated with these words are vast. Taking this passage in relation to Jeremiah reading suggests one particular aspect worth highlighting. To understand the fullness of God's grace toward us requires that we also admit the truth about our need for forgiveness and redemption. One reason for the exuberance of the joy of the restored Israelites was the very severity of the circumstances to which their disobedience had brought them. God's judgment was just, and so God's grace was all the more remarkable.
That we, as well as the ancient Israelites, are in need of such grace is emphasized by the statement that we have received "grace upon grace." From the "law ... given through Moses" we learned not only what God's standards of justice are, but also how far below those standards our behavior usually falls. If the gift of the law was grace rather than judgment (as Jewish tradition rightly insists), then in the forgiveness and acceptance we have from God in Christ we have genuinely found "grace upon grace."
The theology of the John's prologue is emphatically incarnational. Over against the Docetism that was beginning to emerge at the time it was written, the Johannine literature insists "the Word became flesh and lived among us" (cf. 1 John 1:1-3). But rather than this human form obscuring the divine glory, it was precisely what made the revelation of the divine possible. Only the Son who "was with God, and [who] was God" could make God known.
Application
To nations who believed that their glory was in their ability to subjugate Israel and similarly relatively weak peoples, God declared through Jeremiah that the fate of Israel and all nations was under divine control. The proof of that control, moreover, was not in God's actions to bring judgment upon them but in the ability to restore them even when they seemed lost to history. To people who believed that the cosmos itself was so irredeemably corrupt that the only hope for salvation was in escape, Ephesians declares that God's glory will be demonstrated by bringing all things in the heavens and on the earth into restored relationship with God in Christ. To those for whom the presence of divine glory has been completely blocked by the darkness of sin, John's Gospel declares that "the light shines in the darkness" through the Word made flesh and that those who have seen him have indeed the divine glory that is "full of grace and truth."
The challenge for us, then, is to learn where to look for God's glory in the world. God's glory is not so much seen in the triumph over the enemies of God's people as in the grace that reaches out to redeem them in the first place. God's glory is in fact fulfilled in the redemption of all things and all peoples, not in the judgment and subjugation of some for the benefit of others. If we then are to share in the blessings of that glory, we likewise must become people of grace. Such grace does not deny the truth about ourselves or others; it simply underscores the full measure of God's glory that gives "grace upon grace" to us who need it. For that, all creation joins in "praise of God's glory."
An Alternative Application
Jeremiah 31:7-14. On the first Sunday of a new year people's thoughts are naturally drawn to reflecting on new beginnings. Given the uncertainties and anxieties of the past year or so, it is also important to be reminded that God remains sovereign over our world. The tone set by Jeremiah in these particular oracles is helpful in both regards. Clearly these oracles are set against the backdrop of divine judgment -- that is the very reason that Israel needs restoration. But judgment remains the unstated given in the background. The focus is firmly fixed on the promise of restoration and the blessings that God will bring in the future.
On New Year's Eve our people will no doubt have joined in joyous celebrations that included toasts and wishes for a prosperous year ahead. On this first Sunday of the new civil year, it is appropriate that the church, as well, gather in joyous celebration of what God has done for us, offered along with prayers for God's continued blessings for the future. Like ancient Israel and Judah, we certainly have much for which we need to repent, and many of the hardships we have faced may have been the judgments resulting from the natural consequences of actions we have taken at both the personal and communal level. Yet the message of the gospel is good news precisely to those who have had so much bad news. So begin the new year in celebration not only in the hotel ballrooms but in the sanctuary as well!
First Lesson Focus
Jeremiah 31:7-14
Is Jeremiah crazy? Surely he must have been to utter these words that we find in our Old Testament text. Let me tell you about the setting of these prophetic proclamations.
The year is 588 B.C. Jerusalem is being besieged by the armies of the Babylonian Empire, and the situation within Jerusalem's beleaguered walls is absolutely desperate. There is a shortage of food and water and both are being rationed. Gold and silver are worthless, because there is little to buy and all prices are inflated. Disease is spreading through the crowded population. Land has no value, and many are just trying to escape the city by night. The government, under the leadership of the puppet king Zedekiah, is helpless to give any aid. And even the prophet Jeremiah himself is in prison, labeled a traitor because he has advised surrender to the Babylonians.
It is in that situation, that desperate circumstance, that Jeremiah proclaims these two hymns of hope. (Form critically, both are hymns with the call to praise, the transitional word "for," and the body of the hymn telling what God has done or will do.) Both begin with the prophetic formula, "Thus says the Lord." Both are contained in what is known as The Little Book of Comfort in chapters 30 and 31. And both proclaim God's salvation of his covenant people. "The Lord has saved his people, the remnant of Israel," reads the first hymn (v. 7). "... the Lord has ransomed Jacob, and has redeemed him from hands too strong for him," proclaims the second.
The further amazing fact is that those words are addressed, not to the people under siege within the walls of Jerusalem, but to the victims of the first exile in 597 B.C. At that time, the upper-class citizens, the Davidic king and his court and the religious and political leaders of Judah were taken in chains to Babylonia. They are languishing there in exile when Jeremiah proclaims these words. Speaking on behalf of the Lord (note the use of "I" in vv. 8-9 and 13-14), the prophet announces that God will gather the exiles from "the north country" (the direction of the route from Babylonia) and bring them back to their own land and there give them an abundance of grain and wine and oil -- all of the necessities of life that come not from Baal, as Israel earlier thought (Jeremiah 2-3), but from the Lord. The people will come back repenting of their former sins (v. 9) and praising God for the goodness he showers upon them. Their sorrow will be turned into gladness and their want into abundance.
So certain are the redemption and restoration of Israel that Jeremiah proclaims them in a past tense, as if they have already taken place. "The Lord has saved ..." (v. 7). "The Lord has ransomed ... and redeemed ..." (v. 11). All of that Jeremiah announces from his prison while Jerusalem is under siege and the exiles of 597 B.C. are languishing in captivity. Surely Jeremiah must be crazy!
But Jeremiah is dealing with hope here, and perhaps we need to think about that. Certainly we carry lots of hopes around with us for the future, don't we? In fact, if we have no future hopes, our lives are full of despair and cynicism. People commit suicide when they see no exit, no way out of their situation, no hope for the morrow. Then life is desperate and doomed.
But of course there can be very foolish hopes, can't there? A large proportion of the population, many on food stamps and poor, keeps wasting its money buying lottery tickets in the hope that theirs will be the one lucky ticket among the millions sold. Or many in our overweight population continue to buy one faddish diet after another, in the hope that they can lose weight exercising and without sacrificing their favorite foods. Yes, there are very foolish hopes.
There are also hopes for the future that are based on shaky ground. We get so many crusades and causes in our society, all promising to deliver us from our difficulties into harmonious and peaceful live. If we can just get rid of something, we are promised -- sexism, racism, militarism, commercialism, you name it -- then life will be restored to goodness and earth will be fair again. Or we rely on education to make the perfect society, or on government programs. Or some maintain that if we join their religious group, it will solve all our problems. How many promises of happiness, success, and health have you heard from the TV hucksters?
Now certainly Jeremiah's situation was far more desperate than ours usually is. He lived in a time when a whole nation was crumbling around him and death was crawling up into the windows (Jeremiah 9:21). Every hope based on human goodness, human achievement, human cleverness, and progress was shattered. Mercy and kindness were in very short supply before the armies of empire, and goodness and love were lost somewhere in the rubble. But Jeremiah was given a word from God that could not be shaken and that undergirded a sure hope for the future. "I am a Father to Israel," said the Lord, "and Ephraim is my first-born" (31:9). Therefore "he who scattered Israel will gather him, and will keep him as a shepherd keeps his flock" (v. 10). God the Father and God the Shepherd; in that truth about God lay all certain hope.
And that can be ours too, can it not? for God is our Father as well as Israel's. Our Lord Jesus gave us permission to know God that way when he taught us to pray, "Our Father...." And as Paul says, he gives us his Spirit, so we may cry, "Abba! Father!" (Romans 8:14-15; Galatians 4:6-7). The church affirmed that we are children of God our Father when each one of us here this morning was baptized. For at that time we were told that God had adopted us as his children and that nothing could ever again wrest us from his loving hands and care.
But the Lord God is also our shepherd, isn't he, as he is the Shepherd of Israel. How old were you when you first could lisp out, "The Lord is my Shepherd?" As the Psalmist says, "We are his people and the sheep of his pasture" (Psalm 100:3), and Jesus Christ is our good Shepherd, who loves us so much that he even lay down his life for us sheep (John 10:11).
Amazingly, however, that Father and that good Shepherd of Israel and also now of us, that one Triune God is also the ruler of the universe, with all power over nature and time and the future of the human race. And when that God -- that Father and that Shepherd -- says he is going to redeem his people Israel, he will do it. And when the Lord tells them they have a future full of hope, that is absolute truth. Jeremiah, in his desperate situation, knows that, you see, from the Word of God given to him. And now you and I know it too from the Word of God given to us.
So is there hope for our future, good Christians? Even when everything looks hopeless? Is there a goodness beyond all our imagining toward which the Lord God is leading us? And can we therefore rejoice and be radiant, as Israel was bidden to be, on this second Sunday after our Christmas celebration? Yes, dear friends, yes indeed. For God is our Father and Christ is our Shepherd and we are God's people.
Preaching The Psalm
Psalm 147:12-20
This psalm was likely written for the people of Jerusalem after their return from exile (see vv. 2-3) and was intended to remind the hearers that the same God who runs the cosmos also cares for Israel.
In the verses designated by the lectionary for today, this theme shows up in the reference to God's sending of snow and hail (v. 16) and winds and flowing waters (v. 18) upon the earth. We should be careful not to connect those verses directly to verse 20 -- "He has not dealt thus with any other nation" -- for the psalmist is not saying that God's actions through nature are unique gifts to Israel. That would be the opposite of Jesus' assertion that God "makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the righteous and on the unrighteous" (Matthew 5:45).
Rather, the psalmist wants his audience to take heart that the God who has power over the functions of nature guards Israel. This mighty God is the one who is now the security of Jerusalem, who "strengthens the bars of your gates" and "blesses your children within you" (v. 13). Comfort might also be taken from the inverse of that point as well: the God who is the Savior and Security of Israel is the one who controls the cosmos.
A preaching theme from all of this is "From where does our security come?" a subject especially critical in our post-9/11 world, in the world where little girls have been snatched from their own bedrooms, in the world where a sniper instills Washington, D.C., and the states around it with fear. There can be no easy answers, but we can talk about the ultimate security of living our lives in God's world -- yes, this is God's world, as this psalm proclaims; it is not the terror-makers' world. And we can talk about the rituals of protection, including prayers for safety and the placing of our loved ones and ourselves in God's hands.
Vanessa Ochs, author of Safe and Sound: Protecting Your Child in an Unpredictable World (Viking Penguin, 1995), tells of the rituals parents through the ages have undertaken to guard their children, everything from amulets and talismans to incantations, confessions of sins, and pictures of saints. Then, speaking of her own children and her feelings of fear for their safety, she concludes, "Only when I began to focus on the daily ceremonies of protection -- the prayers, blessings, goodnights, and goodbyes that are part of our ritual regime -- was I able to relinquish the extreme overprotection and protect, as I had hoped, adequately."
An aside: The Catholic lectionary uses these verses as the "Psalm for the Year: A Reading" for the Solemnity of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ (formerly called the Feast of Corpus Christi) celebrated on the second Sunday after Pentecost. The observance honors the "real presence" of Christ in the Eucharist, and the psalm connection is in verse 14b, "he fills you with the finest of wheat."
