Happy hallow…
Commentary
Object:
Is today Halloween or Reformation Day? Or should the church boycott both of these "celebrations," the first because of its pagan origins and the later due to its sectarian strife?
Before making a quick decision, let's review the histories of these popular and unpopular traditions. They are intimately joined, whether we want them to be or not.
As the late medieval world rolled over into the beginnings of the modern era in Europe (no one would understand the tumultuous change that was happening until generations later), Halloween and Reformation Day leveraged each other to alter the complexion of western society forever. Martin Luther, a priest and teacher, restlessly broke out of his classroom preparations in agitation about the church he loved but which seemed dying for change. He had been pondering Paul's Letter to the Romans as he lectured to his students, and now he wanted the church as a whole to hear afresh this message of liberation.
But he wanted to spark a conversation that would allow him to remain anonymous, so he printed up ninety-five discussion points ("95 Theses") in the privacy of his monkish cell and hurried through the abandoned streets of Wittenberg on the one night when no one would be around to see him post it to the public bulletin board -- the door of the great cathedral.
Why was Wittenberg a ghost-town on October 31, 1517? Because the next day was "All Hallows Day," the high holiday of the fall season. Those saints who did not get a day of their own on the ecclesiastical calendar, and those who were locally celebrated or remembered, were collectively honored on "All Hallows Day," November 1. It was one of the grandest holy days of the year, and everyone would come to worship services. That's why Luther wanted his discussion points posted that morning, so the conversations would rapidly spread. But the holiness of the day brought with it a northern-European superstition: all the demons and ghosts and goblins and witches would be out and about the night before, seeking to snatch any wanderers from life, God, and faith. All went to worship on November 1, but nobody dared face the dark powers on the night of October 31, "All Hallows Eve."
Of course, the rest is history. Luther's 95 Theses hit the streets just as moveable type made mass publishing possible. They were quickly reproduced and disseminated, much to the chagrin of the caretakers of the old order, and in response a new, "reformed" bunch of young movers and shakers helped split the church and society and even the way in which people thought and talked. The ghosts and goblins of "All Hallows Eve" linger with us as a cute taming of past superstitions, while the words of Martin Luther's challenge continue to bite into the orderliness of power structures that need to be changed. "Halloween" and "Reformation Day" are inescapable partners, forever seeking divorce but never separated.
Today's lectionary passages reflect this uneasy alliance. Habakkuk complains to God that reformation is coming too slowly and gets the message back that when it arrives, the wrong people will bring it. The young Thessalonian congregation is praised by Paul for living on the edge between the "already" and the "not yet" of God's transforming work in Christ. Jesus goes to the wrong home in Jericho to bring a surprising message of reformation where people only expected ghost and goblins. This is a fascinating day!
Habakkuk 1:1-4; 2:1-4
By the time the seventh century BC rolled around, the prophets were rarely welcome in the royal palaces, even though all that was left of a once proud and expansive Israel was the tiny mountainous territory of Judah. During the 600's, although Assyria kept threatening Jerusalem, it was increasingly occupied in defending itself against its rebellious eastern province of Babylon. During these years, while Jeremiah developed his gloomy diatribes in the heart of capital city, several among "The Twelve" also made brief statements about coming judgment. Zephaniah (630-610 BC) provided a few paragraphs against Judah and the nations that surrounded it (chapters 1-2), couching the imminent intervention of Yahweh in the increasingly common term, "The Day of the Lord." In a final, somewhat more lengthy chapter, Zephaniah turned his attention toward restoration and renewal, pointing to a future time when the fortunes of Yahweh's people would be made full once again.
Also, for just a brief moment (probably around 615 BC), Nahum renewed the mission of Jonah against Nineveh and the Assyrians. This time, however, there was no outcome of repentance and restoration. Instead, the short-lived turnabout that had followed Jonah's challenge evaporated entirely, and Nahum declared irreversible divine judgment against this fierce kingdom, which had wreaked so much havoc on its neighbors in the Fertile Crescent.
Finally, during this era as well, came the disconcerting dialogue between Habakkuk and Yahweh. Formulated around the year 600 BC, just as Babylon was rapidly overwhelming the whimpering remnants of the old Assyrian regime, Habakkuk asked Yahweh a series of questions that were answered in ways that almost brought more pain than the situations they were supposed to resolve. If summarized, the conversation would sound something like this:
* HABAKKUK: "Why do you ignore the social evils that plague our land (Judah)?" (1:1-4).
* YAHWEH: "I'm working on it. Very soon now I will bring punishment through my dreaded scourge, the growing Babylonian conquest machine that is rolling through the area" (1:5-11).
* HABAKKUK: "O God, no! You can't do that! They are even worse than the most evil among us! How can you talk about balancing the scales of justice with such an unfair sentence?!" (1:12--2:1).
* YAHWEH: "I understand your frustration. That's why I'm giving you a message for all to hear. The sins of my people are terrible and require drastic measures. For this reason I am bringing the Babylonians against them. But the Babylonians, too, are my people, and will come under my judgment for the wickedness they perform. In the end, all will bow to me, as is appropriate when nations come to know that I am the only true God." (2:2-20).
At this point Habakkuk breaks into a song of confidence and trust (ch. 3) that rivals anything found in the Psalms. Habakkuk charts the terrifying movements of Yahweh on earth, bringing death and destruction as the divine judgments swirl. But in the end, Habakkuk raises a marvelous testimony of faith: God is still on the throne!
2 Thessalonians 1:1-4, 11-12
Soon after the Jerusalem council of Acts 15, Paul and Barnabas were eager to visit the Galatian congregations and inform them personally of the good outcomes in this early Christian theological debate that affected them so deeply (Acts 15:36). But tensions soared between the pair of evangelists as they argued whether John Mark should be invited along (Acts 15:37). In the end, Barnabas felt a family obligation to give it a try with Mark again, while Paul chose a new partner named Silas to join him in these travels (Acts 15:39-41).
It was probably late in 49 AD when Paul and Silas left Syrian Antioch. They traveled overland to the communities in central Asia Minor where Paul and Barnabas had established Christian congregations about eighteen months earlier. At Lystra they were joined by Timothy (Acts 16:1-2), a promising young man whose mother was Christian, but whose father was not. Together, as a growing company of itinerant preachers, they had in mind to go further north in Asia Minor (Acts 16:6-8), to new areas where Jewish settlements in Hellenic cities might give them an open door for talking about Jesus.
While pondering their options at Troas, Paul may have had some medical problems, for the text of Acts 16 shows a shift at that point from third-person references to first-person recollections. Obviously, doctor Luke joined them in there. It was also in Troas that a divine directive came to Paul in a vision, and the company headed across the Aegean Sea to Macedonia. At Philippi they found a small group of Jews worshiping at the river's edge on a sabbath (Acts 16:13), and when Paul spoke about Jesus, a new Christian congregation was formed in the home of Lydia (Acts 16:14-15).
Paul and Silas stayed there for some time, but eventually encountered trouble when a young fortune-teller began to follow them, shouting out to the crowds about them (Acts 16:16-17), perhaps in a mean-spirited or nasty manner. Paul became grieved by her evident demon possession and exorcized her (Acts 16:18). Her masters were very upset and threw Paul and Silas into prison (Acts 16:19-24). A midnight earthquake rocked the place and led to the jailer's conversion (Acts 16:25-34). In the morning, the Roman citizenship of Paul and Silas was discovered, and the magistrates were beside themselves in efforts to undue the unlawful treatment these two had received (Acts 16:35-40).
It was on to Thessalonica next for Paul and Silas and their team (Acts 17:1-9). For three weeks Paul preached about Jesus in the Jewish synagogue there. When Gentiles swelled the crowd of Christ-believers, some Jews became jealous and formed a mob to disrupt civic life. The uproar caused city officials to arrest leading members of the new Christian congregation, and the group sent Paul and Silas out of town that evening under the cover of darkness. With brief stops in Berea (Acts 17:10-15) and Athens (Acts 17:16-34), Paul eventually arrived in Corinth, where he met Aquila and Priscilla for the first time (Acts 18:1-3).
Although Paul would spend the next year-and-a-half in Corinth, at the outset his heart remained back in Thessalonica. Already when he was traveling through Athens he worried about how the fledgling Thessalonian congregation was faring (1 Thessalonians 2:17-20) and sent Timothy back to find out more and make a report (1 Thessalonians 3:1-5). Paul had already traveled on to Corinth by the time Timothy caught up with him and was elated at the good word brought (1 Thessalonians 3:6-10). With emotions running high, Paul dashed off a letter of appreciation and encouragement to his new friends (1 Thessalonians).
Much of this short letter is given to expressions of praise for the great testimony already being noised about from those who watched the great grace and spiritual energy of this newborn congregation. Paul rehearsed briefly the recent history that brought them together, and his aching heart after they were so quickly "torn away" from one another (1 Thessalonians 1--3). Only then does Paul spill some ink on a few notes of instruction. While most of what Paul has to say are typical exhortations toward quiet and godly living, one other topic suddenly jumped out with surprising clarity and doctrinal development -- what happens at death, and the certainty of Christ's return.
The central message of Paul's missionary preaching focused on the resurrection, which was for Paul, the astounding confirmation of Jesus' divine character. This was the undeniable proof that Jesus was the messiah and that his words and teachings had ushered in the new age of God's final revelation and redemptive activity. Furthermore, the urgency of Paul's missionary endeavors was predicated on his understanding that Jesus had gone back to heaven only briefly, and would be returning to earth very soon -- probably next week, but maybe next month. It was the generous grace of God that provided this brief window of opportunity, allowing Jesus' disciples a chance to quickly tell others the good news, so that those who believed would also reap the benefits of the looming messianic age. Neither Paul nor God wanted anyone to be destroyed in the judgments that were still ahead.
The response of the Thessalonian church to this insistent focus on Jesus' imminent return apparently echoed back to Paul through Timothy's report in a way he had not expected. Rather than energizing the new believers in Thessalonica with anticipations of divine vindication after the painful struggles they had recently endured, some had instead become deeply discouraged. In the few intervening weeks or months since they had come to faith in Jesus under Paul's passionate preaching, several members of the congregation had died. The grief of those who survived was heightened because they supposed that their lost loved ones had come so close to sharing in the powers and perfections of the new age, only to succumb to death virtually on its threshold. They assumed that the dead were excluded forever from the messianic kingdom.
Paul corrects this mistaken notion with a brief eschatological teaching (1 Thessalonians 4:13-17). Jesus will return soon, to be sure, and those of us who are alive when that happens will enjoy renewed direct interaction with him. But those who have already died will not be left behind. Their bodies will be raised and restored, just as happened with Jesus on resurrection morning. Assurance of this comes from "the Lord's own word," according to Paul. Although none of the gospels records this exact teaching from Jesus, evidently it had become part of the oral tradition already being passed along from one believer to another.
Paul then went on to reaffirm the central imminent-return-of-Jesus proclamation that had precipitated these reflections in the first place (1 Thessalonians 5:1-11). Jesus will come back very soon, most likely in the foreseeable future. Paul fully expected that he himself, and most of his readers there in Thessalonica, would experience this event firsthand, and probably nearer on the calendar than more distant.
The letter closes with a quick litany of moral and ethical exhortations, urging faithful living regardless of circumstances (1 Thessalonians 5:12-28). It was probably sent in early 50 AD, just as Paul was getting started with his work in Corinth.
A month or two later Paul received a follow-up report on the Thessalonian congregation. It may have been written as a result of another visit by Timothy, but we do not know for sure. What is certain is that Paul's letter had increased the climate of expectation for Jesus' return very dramatically, to the point that a significant number of the Thessalonian Christians had either stopped working their careers, believing these were no longer necessary because Jesus was coming so soon (2 Thessalonians 3:6-12), or came to the conclusion that the messianic age had already arrived, and they were free to carry on with no normal social restraints or obligations (2 Thessalonians 2:1-3). Paul's second letter to the Thessalonians addresses these issues. After a rousing note of appreciation for their growing faith (2 Thessalonians 1), Paul tempers his imminent-return-of-Christ teachings by injecting a waiting period during which a "man of lawlessness" will appear (2 Thessalonians 2:3-4). Who this person will be, or when it will happen remains unclear. For a moment, Paul's writing verges on apocalyptic (2 Thessalonians 2:5-12), but it settles quickly back into exhortations of moral behaviors consistent with the "sanctifying work of the Spirit" (2 Thessalonians 2:13-17).
In his final instructions (2 Thessalonians 3), Paul urged the Thessalonian Christians to live lifestyles of faithful service toward others, not getting caught up in the disease of idleness like that which seems to have sprung from over-zealous expectations of Jesus' imminent return. This echoes the instructions that shout from today's lectionary reading.
Luke 19:1-10
Zacchaeus is an enigma concealed in a conundrum and wrapped inside a riddle. He has been steadily reviled by theologians as the epitome of first-century Jewish traitors, and an example of the depths of society to which Jesus will go in his humiliation.
But was Zacchaeus all of that? Perhaps not. First of all, the term usually translated "short" in verse 2 actually means "young." Younger persons are typically shorter than full grownups, so this, coupled with his need to climb a tree in order to see Jesus, is how it came to be thought that Zacchaeus was vertically challenged. It may well be, however, that he was simply deferring to the older folks in the crowds in a socially accommodating manner.
Second, his name means "clean" or "innocent." These things often matter in biblical stories. In any case, he is not vilified by the appellation given him.
Third, by this time in Jewish history, the Romans had had enough of farming out the tax collecting responsibilities and had taken over the whole deal again by transplants from Rome. Zacchaeus should not be condemned as a turncoat, since his job was likely not to collect taxes for the quartering of Roman soldiers in Palestine, but rather to oversee the merchandise customs booth for the trading caravans that passed through Jericho on the way to Egypt.
Fourth, while he may have been shunned by the crowds, it is likely because of his wealth rather than his character. Zacchaeus was obviously young and rich. This indicates that his wealth was inherited rather than personally earned. The rich lived in a different world than that of the ordinary poor, and Zacchaeus was likely segregated from regular society more because of this financial barrier than any evil traits lurking in his daily footsteps.
Fifth, when Zacchaeus talks to Jesus, he testifies that he already (present tense) is giving half of his possessions (not his earnings!) to the poor. In other words, Zacchaeus has already been trying to divest himself of the burden of wealth in social and religious acts of charity.
Finally, Jesus confirms Zacchaeus' good character by declaring that he is "a son of Abraham." In other words, the citizenry of Jericho did not believe Zacchaeus was part of the Jewish population (perhaps his mother was not Jewish and therefore he could not be counted among those ethnic roles), but Jesus grafted him in by divine declaration.
What are we to think about all of this? Jesus tells us in verse 10: "The Son of Man came to seek and to save what was lost." Very likely, Zacchaeus was not part of the good Jewish society of Jericho, having been born a Gentile of some sort into a wealthy family. But he, at this young age (perhaps because of the preaching and baptizing of John in the area), had become convicted of his need for whatever the God of the Jews was about. Already he had tried to "buy" his way into their understanding of salvation through his acts of profound charity. But these were not enough. Then, one day, along came Jesus, and the rest of the story was made clear.
Jesus' actions with regard to Zacchaeus declared two things: first, salvation is not genetic. You cannot become a child of God for eternity simply by being born into the right family, any more than you can become a car by being born in a garage. No one in Jericho, either Jew or Gentile was automatically a child of Abraham by birth. Second, no acts of personal merit could get you into the right clan either. All that Zacchaeus had done to "earn" status in the religious community he aspired to inhabit had failed. That did not make his deeds bad, and Jesus certainly does not condemn them. But the deeds need to follow the faith, and the faith needs to be through Jesus. All people, including the Jews of Jericho, needed to learn this. That's why Jesus came calling, hoping to put more pictures into his Father's family album.
Application
Our society sees this day as one in which to trivialize evil by mocking it in caricature. Our Protestant churches see this day as one in which to commemorate once-and-ongoing Reformation. Both of these perceptions can be either overblown or understated and turn any recollections into mere mockery.
Our passages for today remind us of the need for serious and ongoing reform in society (Habakkuk), based upon the eschatological warnings and hope of the Creator (2 Thessalonians), as personified in a visit from Jesus (Luke). Where is reform needed today? What standards will guide it? And how will we act when Jesus shows up?
Alternative Application
2 Thessalonians 1:1-4, 11-12. Paul's letters to the Thessalonian congregation occurred early in his ministry, with both epistles most likely penned in 50 AD. These writings are very short, and do not spell out a fully explored eschatology. But in their brief exhortations they contain some of Paul's most direct and explicit eschatological teachings.
First, it is clear that the emphasis in Paul's preaching was on the resurrection of Jesus. This was the confirmation that Jesus was the messiah foretold by the prophets. It was also the most profound sign that the new messianic age had arrived. Since the messianic age was part of the promised "Day of the Lord," a time of divine judgment was sure to arrive soon.
Second, Jesus' first coming brought the beginnings of the blessings of the messianic age, but it delayed the judgments of God for a time, so that the followers of Jesus could spread the news of salvation far and wide. Splitting the "Day of the Lord" in two was an act of kindness on God's part, providing more opportunity for people to respond in faith. It also placed upon the church a missionary urgency. The reason Jesus left his followers behind during the gap between his ascension and return was to send them as ambassadors of hope to the nations.
Third, the return of Jesus was imminent, and likely to take place within weeks or months. This was the expectation that made any trials, persecutions, or difficulties endurable. Knowing that one can outlast an opponent, no matter how nasty or strong, gives great resilience to hang on and survive with dignity.
Fourth, all who trusted in Jesus when he returned would share in his glory and power. But so too would those who had believed in Jesus and then died before Jesus had made his return. This teaching profoundly changed the burial habits of Christians and altered expectations at dying. Rather than closing doors, death opened them. Many early Christians welcomed death by martyrdom, knowing that through this act they were immediately secure in resurrection hope.
Fifth, the gap that had been widening since Jesus' ascension required explanations for the delay of his return. These came in three major expressions. Some saw in it evidence of divine grace in which God was not bringing final judgment until more people could respond to the gospel message in faith. Others declared the delay as a tool for testing the faithfulness of those who said they believed in Jesus. A final group called to mind Jesus' words about signs that would appear before the final days and were certain that a number of specific events must still take place prior to his return.
Intertwined together, these eschatological expectations became hardwired into the church, and infused it, for Paul, a missionary urgency and an uncompromising ethic. The church must speak to everyone with loving passion about Jesus and was responsible to live in a profound moral simplicity that assessed every behavior by the question, "What should we be doing when Jesus returns?"
Preaching the Psalm
by Schuyler Rhodes
Psalm 119:137-144
There's no question about it. It helps to understand. Understanding how a car operates can save lives. Understanding how the furnace works at home can save money and health. Understanding the different cultures can lead to new and deep friendships. Understanding the laws that govern us as a people can help as we work to build a better community and nation. One could conceivably write on forever about all the ways in which understanding is a good thing.
When we don't understand, we tend to stumble and fall. When we lack understanding our judgment is bad and our opinions worse. Whether it is a mundane thing like understanding plumbing or a complex and significant thing like understanding the workings of a large church community, it is critical that we understand. Imagine how this understanding thing works in your life. If you understand your spouse or partner, you have a better relationship. If you understand what is required of you at work, you are more likely to succeed at your job. Knowing and understanding the workings of your neighborhood will result in better relationships and possibly even better schools and other civic institutions.
Well, believe it or not, the same is true of God.
Yes. God is so awesome and huge that it is unlikely that any human totally understands God. But isn't it likely that striving to understand God's laws and God's ways can indeed, as the psalm suggest, "give life"? Think for a moment. If we truly understood the nature of God's creation, would we not be more likely to avoid the environmental devastation currently tearing at our planet? If we truly understood the "laws" of God will we not indeed be able to live?
Looking to scripture it's not too hard to see that God's laws make sense in the so called "real" world. Take the 10 Commandments for example. The commandment that prohibits stealing is really pretty practical. If stealing is permitted, social chaos would soon follow. Likewise the commandment against killing other people makes a lot of sense. Look at the nations in the world where killing goes on unchecked. These are not places of hope and compassion, are they?
While it's likely that no one will ever understand God or even the array of God's laws, it is true that understanding can give life. It is equally true that applying our understanding to principled living before God can give life, not only to us but to a world that desperately needs it.
Before making a quick decision, let's review the histories of these popular and unpopular traditions. They are intimately joined, whether we want them to be or not.
As the late medieval world rolled over into the beginnings of the modern era in Europe (no one would understand the tumultuous change that was happening until generations later), Halloween and Reformation Day leveraged each other to alter the complexion of western society forever. Martin Luther, a priest and teacher, restlessly broke out of his classroom preparations in agitation about the church he loved but which seemed dying for change. He had been pondering Paul's Letter to the Romans as he lectured to his students, and now he wanted the church as a whole to hear afresh this message of liberation.
But he wanted to spark a conversation that would allow him to remain anonymous, so he printed up ninety-five discussion points ("95 Theses") in the privacy of his monkish cell and hurried through the abandoned streets of Wittenberg on the one night when no one would be around to see him post it to the public bulletin board -- the door of the great cathedral.
Why was Wittenberg a ghost-town on October 31, 1517? Because the next day was "All Hallows Day," the high holiday of the fall season. Those saints who did not get a day of their own on the ecclesiastical calendar, and those who were locally celebrated or remembered, were collectively honored on "All Hallows Day," November 1. It was one of the grandest holy days of the year, and everyone would come to worship services. That's why Luther wanted his discussion points posted that morning, so the conversations would rapidly spread. But the holiness of the day brought with it a northern-European superstition: all the demons and ghosts and goblins and witches would be out and about the night before, seeking to snatch any wanderers from life, God, and faith. All went to worship on November 1, but nobody dared face the dark powers on the night of October 31, "All Hallows Eve."
Of course, the rest is history. Luther's 95 Theses hit the streets just as moveable type made mass publishing possible. They were quickly reproduced and disseminated, much to the chagrin of the caretakers of the old order, and in response a new, "reformed" bunch of young movers and shakers helped split the church and society and even the way in which people thought and talked. The ghosts and goblins of "All Hallows Eve" linger with us as a cute taming of past superstitions, while the words of Martin Luther's challenge continue to bite into the orderliness of power structures that need to be changed. "Halloween" and "Reformation Day" are inescapable partners, forever seeking divorce but never separated.
Today's lectionary passages reflect this uneasy alliance. Habakkuk complains to God that reformation is coming too slowly and gets the message back that when it arrives, the wrong people will bring it. The young Thessalonian congregation is praised by Paul for living on the edge between the "already" and the "not yet" of God's transforming work in Christ. Jesus goes to the wrong home in Jericho to bring a surprising message of reformation where people only expected ghost and goblins. This is a fascinating day!
Habakkuk 1:1-4; 2:1-4
By the time the seventh century BC rolled around, the prophets were rarely welcome in the royal palaces, even though all that was left of a once proud and expansive Israel was the tiny mountainous territory of Judah. During the 600's, although Assyria kept threatening Jerusalem, it was increasingly occupied in defending itself against its rebellious eastern province of Babylon. During these years, while Jeremiah developed his gloomy diatribes in the heart of capital city, several among "The Twelve" also made brief statements about coming judgment. Zephaniah (630-610 BC) provided a few paragraphs against Judah and the nations that surrounded it (chapters 1-2), couching the imminent intervention of Yahweh in the increasingly common term, "The Day of the Lord." In a final, somewhat more lengthy chapter, Zephaniah turned his attention toward restoration and renewal, pointing to a future time when the fortunes of Yahweh's people would be made full once again.
Also, for just a brief moment (probably around 615 BC), Nahum renewed the mission of Jonah against Nineveh and the Assyrians. This time, however, there was no outcome of repentance and restoration. Instead, the short-lived turnabout that had followed Jonah's challenge evaporated entirely, and Nahum declared irreversible divine judgment against this fierce kingdom, which had wreaked so much havoc on its neighbors in the Fertile Crescent.
Finally, during this era as well, came the disconcerting dialogue between Habakkuk and Yahweh. Formulated around the year 600 BC, just as Babylon was rapidly overwhelming the whimpering remnants of the old Assyrian regime, Habakkuk asked Yahweh a series of questions that were answered in ways that almost brought more pain than the situations they were supposed to resolve. If summarized, the conversation would sound something like this:
* HABAKKUK: "Why do you ignore the social evils that plague our land (Judah)?" (1:1-4).
* YAHWEH: "I'm working on it. Very soon now I will bring punishment through my dreaded scourge, the growing Babylonian conquest machine that is rolling through the area" (1:5-11).
* HABAKKUK: "O God, no! You can't do that! They are even worse than the most evil among us! How can you talk about balancing the scales of justice with such an unfair sentence?!" (1:12--2:1).
* YAHWEH: "I understand your frustration. That's why I'm giving you a message for all to hear. The sins of my people are terrible and require drastic measures. For this reason I am bringing the Babylonians against them. But the Babylonians, too, are my people, and will come under my judgment for the wickedness they perform. In the end, all will bow to me, as is appropriate when nations come to know that I am the only true God." (2:2-20).
At this point Habakkuk breaks into a song of confidence and trust (ch. 3) that rivals anything found in the Psalms. Habakkuk charts the terrifying movements of Yahweh on earth, bringing death and destruction as the divine judgments swirl. But in the end, Habakkuk raises a marvelous testimony of faith: God is still on the throne!
2 Thessalonians 1:1-4, 11-12
Soon after the Jerusalem council of Acts 15, Paul and Barnabas were eager to visit the Galatian congregations and inform them personally of the good outcomes in this early Christian theological debate that affected them so deeply (Acts 15:36). But tensions soared between the pair of evangelists as they argued whether John Mark should be invited along (Acts 15:37). In the end, Barnabas felt a family obligation to give it a try with Mark again, while Paul chose a new partner named Silas to join him in these travels (Acts 15:39-41).
It was probably late in 49 AD when Paul and Silas left Syrian Antioch. They traveled overland to the communities in central Asia Minor where Paul and Barnabas had established Christian congregations about eighteen months earlier. At Lystra they were joined by Timothy (Acts 16:1-2), a promising young man whose mother was Christian, but whose father was not. Together, as a growing company of itinerant preachers, they had in mind to go further north in Asia Minor (Acts 16:6-8), to new areas where Jewish settlements in Hellenic cities might give them an open door for talking about Jesus.
While pondering their options at Troas, Paul may have had some medical problems, for the text of Acts 16 shows a shift at that point from third-person references to first-person recollections. Obviously, doctor Luke joined them in there. It was also in Troas that a divine directive came to Paul in a vision, and the company headed across the Aegean Sea to Macedonia. At Philippi they found a small group of Jews worshiping at the river's edge on a sabbath (Acts 16:13), and when Paul spoke about Jesus, a new Christian congregation was formed in the home of Lydia (Acts 16:14-15).
Paul and Silas stayed there for some time, but eventually encountered trouble when a young fortune-teller began to follow them, shouting out to the crowds about them (Acts 16:16-17), perhaps in a mean-spirited or nasty manner. Paul became grieved by her evident demon possession and exorcized her (Acts 16:18). Her masters were very upset and threw Paul and Silas into prison (Acts 16:19-24). A midnight earthquake rocked the place and led to the jailer's conversion (Acts 16:25-34). In the morning, the Roman citizenship of Paul and Silas was discovered, and the magistrates were beside themselves in efforts to undue the unlawful treatment these two had received (Acts 16:35-40).
It was on to Thessalonica next for Paul and Silas and their team (Acts 17:1-9). For three weeks Paul preached about Jesus in the Jewish synagogue there. When Gentiles swelled the crowd of Christ-believers, some Jews became jealous and formed a mob to disrupt civic life. The uproar caused city officials to arrest leading members of the new Christian congregation, and the group sent Paul and Silas out of town that evening under the cover of darkness. With brief stops in Berea (Acts 17:10-15) and Athens (Acts 17:16-34), Paul eventually arrived in Corinth, where he met Aquila and Priscilla for the first time (Acts 18:1-3).
Although Paul would spend the next year-and-a-half in Corinth, at the outset his heart remained back in Thessalonica. Already when he was traveling through Athens he worried about how the fledgling Thessalonian congregation was faring (1 Thessalonians 2:17-20) and sent Timothy back to find out more and make a report (1 Thessalonians 3:1-5). Paul had already traveled on to Corinth by the time Timothy caught up with him and was elated at the good word brought (1 Thessalonians 3:6-10). With emotions running high, Paul dashed off a letter of appreciation and encouragement to his new friends (1 Thessalonians).
Much of this short letter is given to expressions of praise for the great testimony already being noised about from those who watched the great grace and spiritual energy of this newborn congregation. Paul rehearsed briefly the recent history that brought them together, and his aching heart after they were so quickly "torn away" from one another (1 Thessalonians 1--3). Only then does Paul spill some ink on a few notes of instruction. While most of what Paul has to say are typical exhortations toward quiet and godly living, one other topic suddenly jumped out with surprising clarity and doctrinal development -- what happens at death, and the certainty of Christ's return.
The central message of Paul's missionary preaching focused on the resurrection, which was for Paul, the astounding confirmation of Jesus' divine character. This was the undeniable proof that Jesus was the messiah and that his words and teachings had ushered in the new age of God's final revelation and redemptive activity. Furthermore, the urgency of Paul's missionary endeavors was predicated on his understanding that Jesus had gone back to heaven only briefly, and would be returning to earth very soon -- probably next week, but maybe next month. It was the generous grace of God that provided this brief window of opportunity, allowing Jesus' disciples a chance to quickly tell others the good news, so that those who believed would also reap the benefits of the looming messianic age. Neither Paul nor God wanted anyone to be destroyed in the judgments that were still ahead.
The response of the Thessalonian church to this insistent focus on Jesus' imminent return apparently echoed back to Paul through Timothy's report in a way he had not expected. Rather than energizing the new believers in Thessalonica with anticipations of divine vindication after the painful struggles they had recently endured, some had instead become deeply discouraged. In the few intervening weeks or months since they had come to faith in Jesus under Paul's passionate preaching, several members of the congregation had died. The grief of those who survived was heightened because they supposed that their lost loved ones had come so close to sharing in the powers and perfections of the new age, only to succumb to death virtually on its threshold. They assumed that the dead were excluded forever from the messianic kingdom.
Paul corrects this mistaken notion with a brief eschatological teaching (1 Thessalonians 4:13-17). Jesus will return soon, to be sure, and those of us who are alive when that happens will enjoy renewed direct interaction with him. But those who have already died will not be left behind. Their bodies will be raised and restored, just as happened with Jesus on resurrection morning. Assurance of this comes from "the Lord's own word," according to Paul. Although none of the gospels records this exact teaching from Jesus, evidently it had become part of the oral tradition already being passed along from one believer to another.
Paul then went on to reaffirm the central imminent-return-of-Jesus proclamation that had precipitated these reflections in the first place (1 Thessalonians 5:1-11). Jesus will come back very soon, most likely in the foreseeable future. Paul fully expected that he himself, and most of his readers there in Thessalonica, would experience this event firsthand, and probably nearer on the calendar than more distant.
The letter closes with a quick litany of moral and ethical exhortations, urging faithful living regardless of circumstances (1 Thessalonians 5:12-28). It was probably sent in early 50 AD, just as Paul was getting started with his work in Corinth.
A month or two later Paul received a follow-up report on the Thessalonian congregation. It may have been written as a result of another visit by Timothy, but we do not know for sure. What is certain is that Paul's letter had increased the climate of expectation for Jesus' return very dramatically, to the point that a significant number of the Thessalonian Christians had either stopped working their careers, believing these were no longer necessary because Jesus was coming so soon (2 Thessalonians 3:6-12), or came to the conclusion that the messianic age had already arrived, and they were free to carry on with no normal social restraints or obligations (2 Thessalonians 2:1-3). Paul's second letter to the Thessalonians addresses these issues. After a rousing note of appreciation for their growing faith (2 Thessalonians 1), Paul tempers his imminent-return-of-Christ teachings by injecting a waiting period during which a "man of lawlessness" will appear (2 Thessalonians 2:3-4). Who this person will be, or when it will happen remains unclear. For a moment, Paul's writing verges on apocalyptic (2 Thessalonians 2:5-12), but it settles quickly back into exhortations of moral behaviors consistent with the "sanctifying work of the Spirit" (2 Thessalonians 2:13-17).
In his final instructions (2 Thessalonians 3), Paul urged the Thessalonian Christians to live lifestyles of faithful service toward others, not getting caught up in the disease of idleness like that which seems to have sprung from over-zealous expectations of Jesus' imminent return. This echoes the instructions that shout from today's lectionary reading.
Luke 19:1-10
Zacchaeus is an enigma concealed in a conundrum and wrapped inside a riddle. He has been steadily reviled by theologians as the epitome of first-century Jewish traitors, and an example of the depths of society to which Jesus will go in his humiliation.
But was Zacchaeus all of that? Perhaps not. First of all, the term usually translated "short" in verse 2 actually means "young." Younger persons are typically shorter than full grownups, so this, coupled with his need to climb a tree in order to see Jesus, is how it came to be thought that Zacchaeus was vertically challenged. It may well be, however, that he was simply deferring to the older folks in the crowds in a socially accommodating manner.
Second, his name means "clean" or "innocent." These things often matter in biblical stories. In any case, he is not vilified by the appellation given him.
Third, by this time in Jewish history, the Romans had had enough of farming out the tax collecting responsibilities and had taken over the whole deal again by transplants from Rome. Zacchaeus should not be condemned as a turncoat, since his job was likely not to collect taxes for the quartering of Roman soldiers in Palestine, but rather to oversee the merchandise customs booth for the trading caravans that passed through Jericho on the way to Egypt.
Fourth, while he may have been shunned by the crowds, it is likely because of his wealth rather than his character. Zacchaeus was obviously young and rich. This indicates that his wealth was inherited rather than personally earned. The rich lived in a different world than that of the ordinary poor, and Zacchaeus was likely segregated from regular society more because of this financial barrier than any evil traits lurking in his daily footsteps.
Fifth, when Zacchaeus talks to Jesus, he testifies that he already (present tense) is giving half of his possessions (not his earnings!) to the poor. In other words, Zacchaeus has already been trying to divest himself of the burden of wealth in social and religious acts of charity.
Finally, Jesus confirms Zacchaeus' good character by declaring that he is "a son of Abraham." In other words, the citizenry of Jericho did not believe Zacchaeus was part of the Jewish population (perhaps his mother was not Jewish and therefore he could not be counted among those ethnic roles), but Jesus grafted him in by divine declaration.
What are we to think about all of this? Jesus tells us in verse 10: "The Son of Man came to seek and to save what was lost." Very likely, Zacchaeus was not part of the good Jewish society of Jericho, having been born a Gentile of some sort into a wealthy family. But he, at this young age (perhaps because of the preaching and baptizing of John in the area), had become convicted of his need for whatever the God of the Jews was about. Already he had tried to "buy" his way into their understanding of salvation through his acts of profound charity. But these were not enough. Then, one day, along came Jesus, and the rest of the story was made clear.
Jesus' actions with regard to Zacchaeus declared two things: first, salvation is not genetic. You cannot become a child of God for eternity simply by being born into the right family, any more than you can become a car by being born in a garage. No one in Jericho, either Jew or Gentile was automatically a child of Abraham by birth. Second, no acts of personal merit could get you into the right clan either. All that Zacchaeus had done to "earn" status in the religious community he aspired to inhabit had failed. That did not make his deeds bad, and Jesus certainly does not condemn them. But the deeds need to follow the faith, and the faith needs to be through Jesus. All people, including the Jews of Jericho, needed to learn this. That's why Jesus came calling, hoping to put more pictures into his Father's family album.
Application
Our society sees this day as one in which to trivialize evil by mocking it in caricature. Our Protestant churches see this day as one in which to commemorate once-and-ongoing Reformation. Both of these perceptions can be either overblown or understated and turn any recollections into mere mockery.
Our passages for today remind us of the need for serious and ongoing reform in society (Habakkuk), based upon the eschatological warnings and hope of the Creator (2 Thessalonians), as personified in a visit from Jesus (Luke). Where is reform needed today? What standards will guide it? And how will we act when Jesus shows up?
Alternative Application
2 Thessalonians 1:1-4, 11-12. Paul's letters to the Thessalonian congregation occurred early in his ministry, with both epistles most likely penned in 50 AD. These writings are very short, and do not spell out a fully explored eschatology. But in their brief exhortations they contain some of Paul's most direct and explicit eschatological teachings.
First, it is clear that the emphasis in Paul's preaching was on the resurrection of Jesus. This was the confirmation that Jesus was the messiah foretold by the prophets. It was also the most profound sign that the new messianic age had arrived. Since the messianic age was part of the promised "Day of the Lord," a time of divine judgment was sure to arrive soon.
Second, Jesus' first coming brought the beginnings of the blessings of the messianic age, but it delayed the judgments of God for a time, so that the followers of Jesus could spread the news of salvation far and wide. Splitting the "Day of the Lord" in two was an act of kindness on God's part, providing more opportunity for people to respond in faith. It also placed upon the church a missionary urgency. The reason Jesus left his followers behind during the gap between his ascension and return was to send them as ambassadors of hope to the nations.
Third, the return of Jesus was imminent, and likely to take place within weeks or months. This was the expectation that made any trials, persecutions, or difficulties endurable. Knowing that one can outlast an opponent, no matter how nasty or strong, gives great resilience to hang on and survive with dignity.
Fourth, all who trusted in Jesus when he returned would share in his glory and power. But so too would those who had believed in Jesus and then died before Jesus had made his return. This teaching profoundly changed the burial habits of Christians and altered expectations at dying. Rather than closing doors, death opened them. Many early Christians welcomed death by martyrdom, knowing that through this act they were immediately secure in resurrection hope.
Fifth, the gap that had been widening since Jesus' ascension required explanations for the delay of his return. These came in three major expressions. Some saw in it evidence of divine grace in which God was not bringing final judgment until more people could respond to the gospel message in faith. Others declared the delay as a tool for testing the faithfulness of those who said they believed in Jesus. A final group called to mind Jesus' words about signs that would appear before the final days and were certain that a number of specific events must still take place prior to his return.
Intertwined together, these eschatological expectations became hardwired into the church, and infused it, for Paul, a missionary urgency and an uncompromising ethic. The church must speak to everyone with loving passion about Jesus and was responsible to live in a profound moral simplicity that assessed every behavior by the question, "What should we be doing when Jesus returns?"
Preaching the Psalm
by Schuyler Rhodes
Psalm 119:137-144
There's no question about it. It helps to understand. Understanding how a car operates can save lives. Understanding how the furnace works at home can save money and health. Understanding the different cultures can lead to new and deep friendships. Understanding the laws that govern us as a people can help as we work to build a better community and nation. One could conceivably write on forever about all the ways in which understanding is a good thing.
When we don't understand, we tend to stumble and fall. When we lack understanding our judgment is bad and our opinions worse. Whether it is a mundane thing like understanding plumbing or a complex and significant thing like understanding the workings of a large church community, it is critical that we understand. Imagine how this understanding thing works in your life. If you understand your spouse or partner, you have a better relationship. If you understand what is required of you at work, you are more likely to succeed at your job. Knowing and understanding the workings of your neighborhood will result in better relationships and possibly even better schools and other civic institutions.
Well, believe it or not, the same is true of God.
Yes. God is so awesome and huge that it is unlikely that any human totally understands God. But isn't it likely that striving to understand God's laws and God's ways can indeed, as the psalm suggest, "give life"? Think for a moment. If we truly understood the nature of God's creation, would we not be more likely to avoid the environmental devastation currently tearing at our planet? If we truly understood the "laws" of God will we not indeed be able to live?
Looking to scripture it's not too hard to see that God's laws make sense in the so called "real" world. Take the 10 Commandments for example. The commandment that prohibits stealing is really pretty practical. If stealing is permitted, social chaos would soon follow. Likewise the commandment against killing other people makes a lot of sense. Look at the nations in the world where killing goes on unchecked. These are not places of hope and compassion, are they?
While it's likely that no one will ever understand God or even the array of God's laws, it is true that understanding can give life. It is equally true that applying our understanding to principled living before God can give life, not only to us but to a world that desperately needs it.
