Putting In The Time
Commentary
Exodus 12:1-14
The story of the institution of Passover is central to the Jewish religion, and thus central also to Jesus and his followers. It is an annual reminder of the covenant between God and Israel and it is commemorated with as much of one’s family as it is possible to gather together. The central feature of the holiday is the Passover meal, or seder, much as Christians celebrate Easter or Christmas. Special foods, special ways of preparing those foods, and lots of laughter and song accompany the meal. Every generation of one’s family that is alive is represented in the ritual of prayer and song. The eldest male member of the household has to search the house for anything that is fermented, to make certain the house is ritually clean for the festival; when he has found a small bit of yeast bread, he throws it out of the house. Then the eldest woman in the family lights the first candle and says a prayer to begin the Passover feast. After the daughter(s) bring in the first course and everyone has eaten it, the smallest child starts the teachings for the evening by asking the first question: “Why is this night different from all other nights?” The father answers that question, and the people all drink a small glass of wine. And so on. In the course of the meal, the family rehearses their history as a nation and as a faith group. By the end of the meal, they are all a little tipsy, full from feasting, and sleepy.
A new year has begun.
It was important to growing their own food that people knew when it was time to plant, so calendars were established, establishing prime times to plant and harvest. Calendars are also useful to keep track of when the livestock have been breeding and counting out the months to when the females are due to deliver. All of this was so important, the start of ancient calendars was set by the rulers and scientists of the land. And the beginning of the year was set according to signs in the heavens, such as the spring equinox (our first day of spring), when hours of daylight and nighttime are equal.
The Egyptians followed this custom with their Wepet-Renpet Festival1, which commemorated the dying and rising again of Osiris, god of the Nile. It was “a kind of moveable feast as it depended on the inundation of the Nile River.” So, it was also celebrating “the rejuvenation and rebirth of the land and the people.”
Today’s reading from Exodus is establishing the festival of the Passover in place of the Egyptian Wepet-Renpet, just before the people left Egypt. “This shall mark for you the beginning of months, the first… of the year for you,” just as Wepet-Renpet marked the beginning of the Egyptian year. Passover is the most important festival in the Hebrew calendar, both for setting the beginning of the year, and for establishing a new religion as the children of God.2
When Jesus knew that it was time for him to surrender to the authorities over Israel, he took the opportunity to change the Passover into the Last Supper, complete with his ‘new’ teachings, and to give new meaning to the ritual slaughter of a lamb — that Jesus takes the place of the male lamb that may not have even a single broken bone, and is transformed from the shepherd of his flock to the Lamb of God, the sign for which is the cup of wine and the broken bread.
The relationship between God and humans is also changed. In the story of the Passover, the Lord passes over Egypt to “strike down” every firstborn of both people and animals, as a sign of judgment “on all the gods of Egypt.” But in the Easter story, God-in-flesh offers himself as a sacrifice, to overcome the alienation between humanity and the divine. In this way, we see that we are one people with the Jews; in fact, the bridge joining them and the pagan world, which God also loves.
2020 has certainly been a strange year for most of us. I thank God that I’m retired and don’t need to make the decision of how I might get to work or whether my employer will let me work from home. (Oh, wait! — I DO work from home! Here I am at an old kitchen table in the back room of our home, typing away. Guess it’ll be okay with my boss…) It is probably the end of the world we have known. I don’t mean that in a negative, hopeless way; already we can see people taking responsibility to require face masks and social distancing, even as the federal authorities mumble and fret about how this will affect the election. And it will, we can be sure. We just don’t know how yet.
Like the Hebrews, about to walk away from their enslavement in Egypt, we are fearful. At least in Egypt they had enough good food to eat3 — and the common complaint of the Hebrews during their nomadic period was that they didn’t have the spices and comfort foods they were used to in Egypt, so we know they ate well. When we move from one way of life to another, there are bad feelings, even a sort of homesickness for what we had to leave behind, no matter what has made us move on. Even abused women, needing to leave the home they have shared with their abuser, will long for the certainty of their partner’s paycheck and forget the fear, or have even been told that they need to go back and pray for their tormentor — often by a well-meaning but clueless pastor.
The best way to leave the past is to build dreams for the future, to dream big, to allow ourselves the freedom God gives us to shake off the chains that have bound us, whether to abuse or mockery or just the business of working as hard as we can, only to be told we’re useless -- and that can happen at work as well as at home. The feeling of being unloved, no matter what you do, is not peculiar to our time and place. What slave has ever felt good about being bound to work for someone without pay, love or the esteem of others?
So, God gave the Hebrews something new to hold onto, a new faith, a new relationship with God. The old ways were supplanted by new ways, and the old impassive gods by a personal God. But in Egypt the gods were visible in the art of the temples. This new God was invisible and had an unpronounceable name. They have yet to know just howdifficult the change would be. It’s hard enough to leave the “devil you know” without changing gods as well.
Romans 13:8-14
Many a time I have heard this scripture preached upon, only for the pastor to stumble over the block of ‘owing nothing to anyone.’ We live in a society in which we are encouraged day and night, as many hours as we watch TV, to have the latest, greatest and finest of everything, even if we have to put it on a credit card or borrow the money to have it. It is impossible for most people to buy a home or a car without going into debt. This has never been more evident in our country in our lifetimes as right now, and that does need to be talked about.
However, that is not what Paul is aiming at here. He is aiming at social debts, and the tendency to “pay back” those who have hurt us in the thousand ways we have access to. “The one who loves another has fulfilled the law.” Paul lists those commandments that cover how we are not to treat each other — adultery (even in our fantasies); murder (which Jesus connects to damaging another’s reputation, or even calling one another names, like when that car passed you on the highway and then slowed down, for example); theft; jealousy and, just in case he missed one, “and any other commandment” and then reminds us that we are saved from any of those sins if we work to love our neighbors as ourselves.
“Oh dear,” I can hear you say. “How am I to know I’m doing something out of love, and not just to make myself feel good, or so I can feel important?” And that is, indeed, the problem. I see someone struggling with a heavy bag, and I stop to offer help. The person says he’s doing fine, thank you, and I insist. The comedy routine would then show me grabbing the bag, insisting he needs my help. And in the struggle, he loses his grip and falls to the sidewalk. Wow. “See, I knew you needed my help!”
There are hundreds of ways we withhold love from one another, and it’s too depressing to list even a dozen these days. I think that in these days in which we are justified — no, even encouraged to see the bad side, the stark side, of life. We are encouraged to despair on the news everyday as we see people spitting on others who merely asked the spitter to wear a mask! Or we get to watch a video of a police officer grabbing a black man by his shirt and shooting him seven times in the back because he was getting back into his car (Black man is still alive as I write this). We get to see the President of the United States call most of the countries of the world ‘s---holes’ and then have to explain to our children that we do not talk that way. We have been treated to watching riots in our cities, large and small, which cannot improve police/community relationships, and to lay blame according to which ‘side’ we’re on. We are encouraged to view those whose skin is a different color from ours as “the enemy” — and that is not helpful to promote peace in our communities.
Paul goes on: “…it is time to wake up and see the light and put an end to darkness. Put on the armor of light, put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and quit concentrating on the desires our flesh can so easily get into. Quit quarreling; give up your jealousy. Quit drowning your sorrows in drink or overeating that compensate for what we don’t have.
The only way to change our world is to surrender ourselves to God — to give in, give up our attempts to gain the admiration of others, and be like Jesus — who could see good in others no matter who they were, and who could face the Roman governor without rancor, knowing that Pilate could do no other thing but what the Jewish hierarchy wanted done — to remove Jesus from the earth. At first, we may well be like Peter — who got into Herod’s palace so he could see what was happening to his teacher, but then denied ever knowing him, because he was afraid. Afraid of torture, afraid to die in agony. Real fears, not imaginary. Real possibilities, not paranoia.
But he got better. The next time he was called on, he spoke boldly. He walked in the temple and when a blind man cried out for money, responded that he had none — and gave the man his life back. Eventually, he became a powerful figure of faith. But early on, he failed. We must not stop because our efforts have failed. We need to step out of the boat and keep our eyes on the Lord so we are not overwhelmed by the waves.
This does not necessarily make us better people than others. But it does put us in touch with God more consistently. It’s a little like putting in a workout at the gym. The first time I went, I was exhausted and sweating and not at all sure I’d go back. A month letter, I felt, for the first time, the high that comes from the release of endorphins that exercise provides. In six months, I was lifting 25 pounds on each arm. If we would put in the time on reaching out to God, in a few months we would feel God’s presence consistently. We might even hear God’s voice, gently urging us in the right direction. We might be unwilling to tell others this — unwilling to have people look at us as though we’re more than a little crazy. But down through the ages, the saints and apostles have told us that this happens. Might be worth a try!
Matthew 18:15-20
This is an interesting passage. There is absolutely no chance that Jesus would be talking about ‘the church.’ While he was alive, there was no church. There were faithful disciples, and those faithful disciples might disagree on matters of faith, and were, in the Jewish manner, discussing or even arguing about what the scriptures meant. They were questioning Jesus, not because they didn’t agree with him, but because they needed clarification. This is the strength of the Jewish rabbinical style: ask your questions, listen to the rabbi, question what he means, and talk about the application of the teachings.
When Jesus stayed in the temple among the teachers, he was doing just this. It was his questions that drew the admiration of the rabbis, not whatever answers he might have. Good teachers will always welcome the child who asks intelligent questions. Any teacher that resents such questions is lacking self-respect, or certainty that s/he can rise to difficult questions.
Unfortunately, the New Revised Standard Version complicates the passage by substituting “member of the church” for the more accurate translation of “brothers and sisters” (although the KJV keeps to the designation of “your brother.”) Thus, it becomes an instruction to church members rather than followers of Jesus. As long as we understand that the original words were not assuming that the following instructions are only for within the congregation, no apparent harm is done.
In fact, the outlined method for settling disagreements is excellent, and is followed by many people the world over. In fact, when I was a member of the Civilian Air Patrol, we were taught this method for dealing with people who needed correction. “Never correct another cadet in front of an assembled group,” I remember the presiding officer saying. “Praise a person in public, where everyone can hear, and others who might have made the same mistake may be kept from getting into trouble. But when you have to correct someone, do it in private. If he or she listens, you’ve helped them save face, and they will be grateful. If she or he doesn’t listen, then you have to go up the rank and again explain what you tried to tell the offender. And if that doesn’t work, then go to your commanding officer and report the problem. And take the other cadet with you. This is the military way.”
Second, this method helps to keep the peace. There’s no fight here — or shouldn’t be. The offending person is taken aside and told what you have seen, and the problem with the behavior. And no one else needs to be involved. But if that doesn’t work, there is a next step and still another.
Some people will object, asking when there will be punishment, that this is too soft an approach. But that’s the whole point; we aren’t at war in the church. We’re here to love one another and to care for each other. If I need to be corrected about my behavior, it’s nice that this is happening behind closed doors. That way, I won’t get [as] defensive. I will be more willing to admit that I could have done better and apologize. I will also be more likely to breathe a sigh of relief, that this was kept private, and I can correct myself in the future.
What comes next is no harsher. The phrase “treat them as you would a pagan or a tax collector” does not, as one might suppose, involve shaming or excommunication. Pagans are all around those first disciples. They rule the land. Tax collectors were hired by them to be the face of Rome to their fellow Jews and had a hard time of it as a result. Often considered to be traitors by their fellow countrymen, tax collectors were outcasts in society, which is why Matthew being recruited right from his tax collector stall and Zacchaeus being called down from the tree to have Jesus over for lunch were such outstanding events.
Pagans and tax collectors were to be treated differently in the Christian community. They were reached out to in the Christian community, just as Jesus included them among the disciples. They were not “the other” in Jesus’ following; they were evangelized and welcomed into the midst of the disciples.
The last verse in this passage is one we need to take to heart, not in a punitive sense, but in a gracious way. “Whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven.” Now that is a challenge. Are we willing to let in just anyone? Any old sinner? Someone who doesn’t live by Jesus’ (read ‘our’ standards)? A divorced person? A liberal (conservative)? People who wear biker gear to church? A man whose parents own a bar? An unmarried couple with children? A former TV evangelist who was caught in sexual scandal?
Letting just anyone into our congregation does not mean that we are abandoning the Bible. It does not mean that we should ride herd on newcomers, either. It is not up to us to change those who come to us to worship. God will take care of them. But if we take Paul’s words in this week’s passage from Romans seriously, we will live as gracious (grace-filled) followers of Jesus, loving all those God sends to us with all that we are so that they may know they are loved and valued by God.
That is what Jesus did, so it must be what we ought to be doing.
1 According to the Ancient History Encyclopedia, found at https://www.ancient.eu/article/1032/festivals-in-ancient-egypt/ it was a festival that dated to the latter part of the Old Kingdom, from about 3150 to 2613 BCE.
2 This intention is the reason the Hebrews were not to leave any part of the lamb for any of the Egyptians to find. It represents the love of God for his children, and nothing should be left to be mocked or treated as anything less than holy.
3 Recent archaeological finds near the pyramids include lists of food items ordered to feed those working on the pyramids, and the food proves to be flavorful, nutritional and plenty for those doing that work. Pots and pans with leftovers have also been found, proving that these foods were actually prepared.
The story of the institution of Passover is central to the Jewish religion, and thus central also to Jesus and his followers. It is an annual reminder of the covenant between God and Israel and it is commemorated with as much of one’s family as it is possible to gather together. The central feature of the holiday is the Passover meal, or seder, much as Christians celebrate Easter or Christmas. Special foods, special ways of preparing those foods, and lots of laughter and song accompany the meal. Every generation of one’s family that is alive is represented in the ritual of prayer and song. The eldest male member of the household has to search the house for anything that is fermented, to make certain the house is ritually clean for the festival; when he has found a small bit of yeast bread, he throws it out of the house. Then the eldest woman in the family lights the first candle and says a prayer to begin the Passover feast. After the daughter(s) bring in the first course and everyone has eaten it, the smallest child starts the teachings for the evening by asking the first question: “Why is this night different from all other nights?” The father answers that question, and the people all drink a small glass of wine. And so on. In the course of the meal, the family rehearses their history as a nation and as a faith group. By the end of the meal, they are all a little tipsy, full from feasting, and sleepy.
A new year has begun.
It was important to growing their own food that people knew when it was time to plant, so calendars were established, establishing prime times to plant and harvest. Calendars are also useful to keep track of when the livestock have been breeding and counting out the months to when the females are due to deliver. All of this was so important, the start of ancient calendars was set by the rulers and scientists of the land. And the beginning of the year was set according to signs in the heavens, such as the spring equinox (our first day of spring), when hours of daylight and nighttime are equal.
The Egyptians followed this custom with their Wepet-Renpet Festival1, which commemorated the dying and rising again of Osiris, god of the Nile. It was “a kind of moveable feast as it depended on the inundation of the Nile River.” So, it was also celebrating “the rejuvenation and rebirth of the land and the people.”
Today’s reading from Exodus is establishing the festival of the Passover in place of the Egyptian Wepet-Renpet, just before the people left Egypt. “This shall mark for you the beginning of months, the first… of the year for you,” just as Wepet-Renpet marked the beginning of the Egyptian year. Passover is the most important festival in the Hebrew calendar, both for setting the beginning of the year, and for establishing a new religion as the children of God.2
When Jesus knew that it was time for him to surrender to the authorities over Israel, he took the opportunity to change the Passover into the Last Supper, complete with his ‘new’ teachings, and to give new meaning to the ritual slaughter of a lamb — that Jesus takes the place of the male lamb that may not have even a single broken bone, and is transformed from the shepherd of his flock to the Lamb of God, the sign for which is the cup of wine and the broken bread.
The relationship between God and humans is also changed. In the story of the Passover, the Lord passes over Egypt to “strike down” every firstborn of both people and animals, as a sign of judgment “on all the gods of Egypt.” But in the Easter story, God-in-flesh offers himself as a sacrifice, to overcome the alienation between humanity and the divine. In this way, we see that we are one people with the Jews; in fact, the bridge joining them and the pagan world, which God also loves.
2020 has certainly been a strange year for most of us. I thank God that I’m retired and don’t need to make the decision of how I might get to work or whether my employer will let me work from home. (Oh, wait! — I DO work from home! Here I am at an old kitchen table in the back room of our home, typing away. Guess it’ll be okay with my boss…) It is probably the end of the world we have known. I don’t mean that in a negative, hopeless way; already we can see people taking responsibility to require face masks and social distancing, even as the federal authorities mumble and fret about how this will affect the election. And it will, we can be sure. We just don’t know how yet.
Like the Hebrews, about to walk away from their enslavement in Egypt, we are fearful. At least in Egypt they had enough good food to eat3 — and the common complaint of the Hebrews during their nomadic period was that they didn’t have the spices and comfort foods they were used to in Egypt, so we know they ate well. When we move from one way of life to another, there are bad feelings, even a sort of homesickness for what we had to leave behind, no matter what has made us move on. Even abused women, needing to leave the home they have shared with their abuser, will long for the certainty of their partner’s paycheck and forget the fear, or have even been told that they need to go back and pray for their tormentor — often by a well-meaning but clueless pastor.
The best way to leave the past is to build dreams for the future, to dream big, to allow ourselves the freedom God gives us to shake off the chains that have bound us, whether to abuse or mockery or just the business of working as hard as we can, only to be told we’re useless -- and that can happen at work as well as at home. The feeling of being unloved, no matter what you do, is not peculiar to our time and place. What slave has ever felt good about being bound to work for someone without pay, love or the esteem of others?
So, God gave the Hebrews something new to hold onto, a new faith, a new relationship with God. The old ways were supplanted by new ways, and the old impassive gods by a personal God. But in Egypt the gods were visible in the art of the temples. This new God was invisible and had an unpronounceable name. They have yet to know just howdifficult the change would be. It’s hard enough to leave the “devil you know” without changing gods as well.
Romans 13:8-14
Many a time I have heard this scripture preached upon, only for the pastor to stumble over the block of ‘owing nothing to anyone.’ We live in a society in which we are encouraged day and night, as many hours as we watch TV, to have the latest, greatest and finest of everything, even if we have to put it on a credit card or borrow the money to have it. It is impossible for most people to buy a home or a car without going into debt. This has never been more evident in our country in our lifetimes as right now, and that does need to be talked about.
However, that is not what Paul is aiming at here. He is aiming at social debts, and the tendency to “pay back” those who have hurt us in the thousand ways we have access to. “The one who loves another has fulfilled the law.” Paul lists those commandments that cover how we are not to treat each other — adultery (even in our fantasies); murder (which Jesus connects to damaging another’s reputation, or even calling one another names, like when that car passed you on the highway and then slowed down, for example); theft; jealousy and, just in case he missed one, “and any other commandment” and then reminds us that we are saved from any of those sins if we work to love our neighbors as ourselves.
“Oh dear,” I can hear you say. “How am I to know I’m doing something out of love, and not just to make myself feel good, or so I can feel important?” And that is, indeed, the problem. I see someone struggling with a heavy bag, and I stop to offer help. The person says he’s doing fine, thank you, and I insist. The comedy routine would then show me grabbing the bag, insisting he needs my help. And in the struggle, he loses his grip and falls to the sidewalk. Wow. “See, I knew you needed my help!”
There are hundreds of ways we withhold love from one another, and it’s too depressing to list even a dozen these days. I think that in these days in which we are justified — no, even encouraged to see the bad side, the stark side, of life. We are encouraged to despair on the news everyday as we see people spitting on others who merely asked the spitter to wear a mask! Or we get to watch a video of a police officer grabbing a black man by his shirt and shooting him seven times in the back because he was getting back into his car (Black man is still alive as I write this). We get to see the President of the United States call most of the countries of the world ‘s---holes’ and then have to explain to our children that we do not talk that way. We have been treated to watching riots in our cities, large and small, which cannot improve police/community relationships, and to lay blame according to which ‘side’ we’re on. We are encouraged to view those whose skin is a different color from ours as “the enemy” — and that is not helpful to promote peace in our communities.
Paul goes on: “…it is time to wake up and see the light and put an end to darkness. Put on the armor of light, put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and quit concentrating on the desires our flesh can so easily get into. Quit quarreling; give up your jealousy. Quit drowning your sorrows in drink or overeating that compensate for what we don’t have.
The only way to change our world is to surrender ourselves to God — to give in, give up our attempts to gain the admiration of others, and be like Jesus — who could see good in others no matter who they were, and who could face the Roman governor without rancor, knowing that Pilate could do no other thing but what the Jewish hierarchy wanted done — to remove Jesus from the earth. At first, we may well be like Peter — who got into Herod’s palace so he could see what was happening to his teacher, but then denied ever knowing him, because he was afraid. Afraid of torture, afraid to die in agony. Real fears, not imaginary. Real possibilities, not paranoia.
But he got better. The next time he was called on, he spoke boldly. He walked in the temple and when a blind man cried out for money, responded that he had none — and gave the man his life back. Eventually, he became a powerful figure of faith. But early on, he failed. We must not stop because our efforts have failed. We need to step out of the boat and keep our eyes on the Lord so we are not overwhelmed by the waves.
This does not necessarily make us better people than others. But it does put us in touch with God more consistently. It’s a little like putting in a workout at the gym. The first time I went, I was exhausted and sweating and not at all sure I’d go back. A month letter, I felt, for the first time, the high that comes from the release of endorphins that exercise provides. In six months, I was lifting 25 pounds on each arm. If we would put in the time on reaching out to God, in a few months we would feel God’s presence consistently. We might even hear God’s voice, gently urging us in the right direction. We might be unwilling to tell others this — unwilling to have people look at us as though we’re more than a little crazy. But down through the ages, the saints and apostles have told us that this happens. Might be worth a try!
Matthew 18:15-20
This is an interesting passage. There is absolutely no chance that Jesus would be talking about ‘the church.’ While he was alive, there was no church. There were faithful disciples, and those faithful disciples might disagree on matters of faith, and were, in the Jewish manner, discussing or even arguing about what the scriptures meant. They were questioning Jesus, not because they didn’t agree with him, but because they needed clarification. This is the strength of the Jewish rabbinical style: ask your questions, listen to the rabbi, question what he means, and talk about the application of the teachings.
When Jesus stayed in the temple among the teachers, he was doing just this. It was his questions that drew the admiration of the rabbis, not whatever answers he might have. Good teachers will always welcome the child who asks intelligent questions. Any teacher that resents such questions is lacking self-respect, or certainty that s/he can rise to difficult questions.
Unfortunately, the New Revised Standard Version complicates the passage by substituting “member of the church” for the more accurate translation of “brothers and sisters” (although the KJV keeps to the designation of “your brother.”) Thus, it becomes an instruction to church members rather than followers of Jesus. As long as we understand that the original words were not assuming that the following instructions are only for within the congregation, no apparent harm is done.
In fact, the outlined method for settling disagreements is excellent, and is followed by many people the world over. In fact, when I was a member of the Civilian Air Patrol, we were taught this method for dealing with people who needed correction. “Never correct another cadet in front of an assembled group,” I remember the presiding officer saying. “Praise a person in public, where everyone can hear, and others who might have made the same mistake may be kept from getting into trouble. But when you have to correct someone, do it in private. If he or she listens, you’ve helped them save face, and they will be grateful. If she or he doesn’t listen, then you have to go up the rank and again explain what you tried to tell the offender. And if that doesn’t work, then go to your commanding officer and report the problem. And take the other cadet with you. This is the military way.”
Second, this method helps to keep the peace. There’s no fight here — or shouldn’t be. The offending person is taken aside and told what you have seen, and the problem with the behavior. And no one else needs to be involved. But if that doesn’t work, there is a next step and still another.
Some people will object, asking when there will be punishment, that this is too soft an approach. But that’s the whole point; we aren’t at war in the church. We’re here to love one another and to care for each other. If I need to be corrected about my behavior, it’s nice that this is happening behind closed doors. That way, I won’t get [as] defensive. I will be more willing to admit that I could have done better and apologize. I will also be more likely to breathe a sigh of relief, that this was kept private, and I can correct myself in the future.
What comes next is no harsher. The phrase “treat them as you would a pagan or a tax collector” does not, as one might suppose, involve shaming or excommunication. Pagans are all around those first disciples. They rule the land. Tax collectors were hired by them to be the face of Rome to their fellow Jews and had a hard time of it as a result. Often considered to be traitors by their fellow countrymen, tax collectors were outcasts in society, which is why Matthew being recruited right from his tax collector stall and Zacchaeus being called down from the tree to have Jesus over for lunch were such outstanding events.
Pagans and tax collectors were to be treated differently in the Christian community. They were reached out to in the Christian community, just as Jesus included them among the disciples. They were not “the other” in Jesus’ following; they were evangelized and welcomed into the midst of the disciples.
The last verse in this passage is one we need to take to heart, not in a punitive sense, but in a gracious way. “Whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven.” Now that is a challenge. Are we willing to let in just anyone? Any old sinner? Someone who doesn’t live by Jesus’ (read ‘our’ standards)? A divorced person? A liberal (conservative)? People who wear biker gear to church? A man whose parents own a bar? An unmarried couple with children? A former TV evangelist who was caught in sexual scandal?
Letting just anyone into our congregation does not mean that we are abandoning the Bible. It does not mean that we should ride herd on newcomers, either. It is not up to us to change those who come to us to worship. God will take care of them. But if we take Paul’s words in this week’s passage from Romans seriously, we will live as gracious (grace-filled) followers of Jesus, loving all those God sends to us with all that we are so that they may know they are loved and valued by God.
That is what Jesus did, so it must be what we ought to be doing.
1 According to the Ancient History Encyclopedia, found at https://www.ancient.eu/article/1032/festivals-in-ancient-egypt/ it was a festival that dated to the latter part of the Old Kingdom, from about 3150 to 2613 BCE.
2 This intention is the reason the Hebrews were not to leave any part of the lamb for any of the Egyptians to find. It represents the love of God for his children, and nothing should be left to be mocked or treated as anything less than holy.
3 Recent archaeological finds near the pyramids include lists of food items ordered to feed those working on the pyramids, and the food proves to be flavorful, nutritional and plenty for those doing that work. Pots and pans with leftovers have also been found, proving that these foods were actually prepared.
