A devotion that I wrote for our church today.
Eternal Life
John 19:41-42, 20:1, 11-16, 18
The story of Mary Magdalene’s encounter with the risen Jesus is a beloved story. The popular 1912 hymn “In the Garden” was inspired by the story: “I come to the garden alone, While the dew is still on the roses; And the voice I hear, falling on my ear, The Son of God discloses.”
The four Gospels provide different accounts of the Resurrection, differing on details about who visited the tomb, how many visited the tomb, and what was said (Matthew 28, Mark 16, Luke 24, John 20). But all of the accounts agree that Mary Magdalene visited the tomb that day. In John’s account, Mary gets there first, goes back and tells Peter and John, who then rush to see the tomb. Peter and John leave, without experiencing Jesus or angels, but Mary lingers sadly.
Mary’s sorrow alludes to John 16:20-22, where Jesus promises that his friends will mourn and weep but then will experience joy. Interestingly, in John’s story, Jesus does not appear to Peter and John, but to Mary. She does not recognize him and assumes he is the gardener. Why doesn’t she know who he is? The resurrected Jesus is a spiritual body, visible and tangible but no longer limited by time and space. What nature will any of us have, when we raise as spiritual bodies (1 Corinthians 15:35-56)?
Jesus asks Mary whom she was looking for. Remember John 1:38, where Jesus asks two disciples, “What are you looking for?” John’s whole gospel is thus framed by an invitation of Jesus, essentially saying: who or what are you looking for? Follow Jesus and learn more about him! He is what you’re looking for—and see how much love he has to give!
When Jesus speaks Mary’s name, she recognizes him. Earlier in John, Jesus had said, “My sheep hear my voice. I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they will never perish. No one will snatch them out of my hand” (John 10:27-28). From now on, in whatever way Jesus speaks to us, we will recognize him and follow him and share in the life that he has promised.
When Jesus raised Lazarus from the dead (John 11), he emerged still wrapped in his grave cloths. Lazarus was resuscitated and restored, but eventually he would physically die again. The neatness of Jesus’ abandoned grave cloths shows us that he left death behind. Physically, we will all die someday, but because of Jesus, our lives will extend beyond the physical world and we will forever be with God. As impressive as the miracle of Lazarus was, all of us share in an even greater event!
Sunday, March 29, 2020
Tuesday, March 3, 2020
Beethoven 250: Piano Concertos
These past few weeks, I’ve been listening to more music! I listened to discs 6-11, listed here as they appear on the set (and listed in order at the Arkiv Music site). I learned the "WoO" means "Werke ohne Opuszahl" ("Works without opus number"), and "Hess" refers to Willy Hess, a Swiss musicologist who compiled a catalogue of Beethoven's works in the 1950s.
Zur Namensfeier Overture, Op. 115 (1814-1815)
Leonore Overture no 1 in C major, Op. 138 (1806-1807)
Leonore Overture no 3 in C major, Op. 72a (1805-1806)
Ritterballet, WoO 1 (Music for a Ballet of the Knights), 1790-1791)
Eleven Viennese Dances , WoO 17, Hess 20 "Mödlinger Tänze" (1819)
Twelve Contradances, WoO 14 (1802)
Twelve German Dances for Orchestra, WoO 8 (1795)
Triumphal March for the tragedy "Tarpeja", WoO 2a, Hess 117(1813)
Introduction to Leonore, Act 2, WoO 2b (1813)
Twelve Minuets for Orchestra, WoO 7 (1795)
Six Minuets for Piano, WoO 10 (1795)
Gratulations-Menuet, WoO 3 (1822)
Wellington's Victory, Op. 91 "Battle Symphony" (1813)
Concerto for Piano no 1 in C major, Op. 15 (1795, rev. 1801)
Rondo for piano in B flat major, WoO 8 (prior to 1793 and completed by Carl Czerny)
Concerto for Piano in E flat major, WoO 4 (1784)
Concerto for Piano no 2 in B flat major, Op. 19 (1793/1798)
Concerto for Piano no 5 in E flat major, Op. 73 "Emperor" (1809)
Romance in E minor for Piano, Flute, Bassoon and Orchestra, Hess 13 (1786-1767)
Concerto for Piano no 3 in C minor, Op. 37 (c 1803)
Concerto for Piano no 4 in G major, Op. 58 (1805-1806)
Concert Finale for Piano in C major, Hess 65 (c 1809)
I admit that I daydreamed through the discs of overtures, dances, and incidental music in order to get to the piano concertos, which I want to play again soon. I really knew only #4 the best, because as a kid I had the 1963 Van Cliburn recording with Fritz Reiner, which my folks bought me because of my enjoyment of Schroeder and "Peanuts." I've heard #5 on the radio, though, numerous times.
"Tristan und Isolde" in Berlin
Last July, I posted several photos from our trip to Trier, Leiden, Paris, and Berlin. For some reason I never posted about our big evening at the opera.
Beth and I were in Berlin, thinking about what to do the next day. I said that Tristan und Isolde was the event at the nearby Berlin State Opera. I regretted that the opera would take from mid-afternoon till late in the evening, consuming a lot of our visiting time----but then, we thought, when would we have another chance to see Wagner performed in Berlin?!
The production had received tepid reviews like this one. But we got tickets and really loved the six-hour opera (including intermissions). What a great experience. As an aside, it was fun to see how well we remembered our German by reading the German and English lines provided above the stage. Daniel Barenboim conducted.
Another aside: I enjoy Bryan Magee's book The Tristan Chord: Wagner and Philosophy (Henry Holt, 2001). Magee engagingly explains Wagner's work, the philosophies of Kant and Schopenhauer, and the way Schopenhauer's book Die Welt als Wille und Vorstellung transformed Wagner's outlook and lead directly to the composition of Tristan und Isolde.
The Word Has Dwelt Among Us
A devotion written for my church for this past Sunday.
The Word Made Flesh
John 1:1-14
“The Word became flesh and made his home among us. We have seen his glory, glory like that of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth” (John 1:14, CEB). There is some wonderful Old Testament background to this passage.
The tabernacle of ancient Israel was a tent, a portable sanctuary that could be disassembled and carried then reassembled as the Israelites moved through the Wilderness. When set up, the tabernacle’s inner place was where the Ark of the Covenant was placed. The box (which is what the old word “ark” means) was gold-covered acacia wood and contained the tablets of the law. The “mercy seat” was the cover of the ark, where sacrificial blood was sprinkled to “cover” the people’s sins (Lev. 16:14-15).
God’s special presence filled that inner room, concealed by a curtain (Ex. 26:31-35). God’s presence was dangerous to approach and had to be entered properly; the two sons of Aaron entered into the presence improperly and died (Lev. 10:1-3). As Pastor Linda reminded us in her Sunday sermon, Moses could only see the back of God because no human could survive a full view of God’s glory (Exodus 33:19-23)
When the first Temple was constructed in Jerusalem, the inner room that contained the ark was the Holy of Holies. As with the tabernacle, God’s presence had a “dwelling place” within the Temple. It was not that God’s presence was found only in that place—that would be to localize God, which is idolatry—but God dwelled specially among his people.
Eventually, God became displeased with his people. God’s special presence---God’s glory---left the Temple (Ezekiel 10). Not long afterward, the Temple was destroyed by the Babylonians, who presumably destroyed or stole the ark, which is never again mentioned as such in scripture.
Now, back to John’s gospel. There is so much in John chapter 1 on which to meditate! John thinks about the Word of God in the beginning, drawing theology of God’s creative word in Genesis 1 and the Greek understanding of the eternal truth that underlies all reality. John thinks about God’s light, which shines in the darkness, revealing and illuminating the truth. (The Greek word for truth also means to reveal or disclose and comes from the Greek word for light.)
John also affirms that the Word became flesh, or mortal existence. Thus, John says that Jesus was a full human being. He was an everyday person, born in humble circumstance, who made a living with Joseph, preached and taught around the countryside, and died a shameful, scorned death.
Within that mortal nature, God’s glory dwells, as God’s glory once dwelled in the inner rooms of the ancient sanctuaries. So, to say that Jesus “made his home among us” or “dwelled among us,” it doesn’t just mean that he lived in certain locations around Galilee. It means that the glory of God is present in Jesus. And the glory will not leave, as it did in the time of Ezekiel. Furthermore, the glory of God is safe to view when we view Jesus!
In a sense, this is the way God has always worked, for God lives among the people (Ex. 25:8, 29:45). But Jesus’ followers understand him to be the special presence of God. “We have seen his glory.”
The Word Made Flesh
John 1:1-14
“The Word became flesh and made his home among us. We have seen his glory, glory like that of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth” (John 1:14, CEB). There is some wonderful Old Testament background to this passage.
The tabernacle of ancient Israel was a tent, a portable sanctuary that could be disassembled and carried then reassembled as the Israelites moved through the Wilderness. When set up, the tabernacle’s inner place was where the Ark of the Covenant was placed. The box (which is what the old word “ark” means) was gold-covered acacia wood and contained the tablets of the law. The “mercy seat” was the cover of the ark, where sacrificial blood was sprinkled to “cover” the people’s sins (Lev. 16:14-15).
God’s special presence filled that inner room, concealed by a curtain (Ex. 26:31-35). God’s presence was dangerous to approach and had to be entered properly; the two sons of Aaron entered into the presence improperly and died (Lev. 10:1-3). As Pastor Linda reminded us in her Sunday sermon, Moses could only see the back of God because no human could survive a full view of God’s glory (Exodus 33:19-23)
When the first Temple was constructed in Jerusalem, the inner room that contained the ark was the Holy of Holies. As with the tabernacle, God’s presence had a “dwelling place” within the Temple. It was not that God’s presence was found only in that place—that would be to localize God, which is idolatry—but God dwelled specially among his people.
Eventually, God became displeased with his people. God’s special presence---God’s glory---left the Temple (Ezekiel 10). Not long afterward, the Temple was destroyed by the Babylonians, who presumably destroyed or stole the ark, which is never again mentioned as such in scripture.
Now, back to John’s gospel. There is so much in John chapter 1 on which to meditate! John thinks about the Word of God in the beginning, drawing theology of God’s creative word in Genesis 1 and the Greek understanding of the eternal truth that underlies all reality. John thinks about God’s light, which shines in the darkness, revealing and illuminating the truth. (The Greek word for truth also means to reveal or disclose and comes from the Greek word for light.)
John also affirms that the Word became flesh, or mortal existence. Thus, John says that Jesus was a full human being. He was an everyday person, born in humble circumstance, who made a living with Joseph, preached and taught around the countryside, and died a shameful, scorned death.
Within that mortal nature, God’s glory dwells, as God’s glory once dwelled in the inner rooms of the ancient sanctuaries. So, to say that Jesus “made his home among us” or “dwelled among us,” it doesn’t just mean that he lived in certain locations around Galilee. It means that the glory of God is present in Jesus. And the glory will not leave, as it did in the time of Ezekiel. Furthermore, the glory of God is safe to view when we view Jesus!
In a sense, this is the way God has always worked, for God lives among the people (Ex. 25:8, 29:45). But Jesus’ followers understand him to be the special presence of God. “We have seen his glory.”
Monday, March 2, 2020
Lent and Depression
Lent is an excellent period in which to renew one’s relationship with God...but if you're prone to depression (as I've been off and on all my life) the penitential aspects of the season could possibly make a person sadder than before.
This occurred to me as I was reading a book about God's nature. The book called attention to the vastness of God's mercy compared to the underlying selfishness of many of our prayers. So many of our prayers are, after all, "quid pro quo" prayers: God, if I do X, please do Y for me. God "sees through" our motives, however, and loves us anyway.
I actually got a little blue reading this chapter of the book, even though the main point was the mercy of God! That's because I felt compassion for people who are blue: when we're in the depths of sadness, our prayers can't help but have that "quid pro quo" quality--God, please help me to be happier, please show me ways to take away this sadness. We also beat up on ourselves even more than usual when we're depressed, and our prayers can feel self-focused because of our pain.
But a time of temporary or chronic sadness might be a powerful time to be reminded of God's vast love, including Lenten times. The psalms, of course, are wonderful prayers because many of them are quite forthright about the psalmists' distress! Psalms 42 and its companion 43 are examples. "For you are the God in whom I take refuge; why have you cast me off?" (Ps. 42:2). What a terrible concern, that God is not only silent but has rejected the psalmist! Fortunately that isn't the last word, for the psalmist knows to "hang on": "Hope in God; for I shall again praise him, my help and my God" (vs. 5). The psalmist isn't feeling praiseful now, but will eventually. During Lent, a depressed person might include psalms among devotional reading.
Lent might be a good time to prayerfully focus upon scriptures that depict God as a "place" of help. God is our machseh, which means "refuge" (Deut. 33:27, KJV and NIV) or “dwelling place” (RSV). Psalm 46:1 affirms that “God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.” Imagine God as a welcoming "place" to go when you're downhearted.
A wonderful thing, which we don't always think about, is that because of the Holy Spirit, we're even closer to God than the psalmists! Jesus opened up for us the Spirit (John 7:39), and now the Spirit functions as a guarantee of God's eternal love (2 Corinthians 5:5). By all means, don't think that your sadness is a sign that God has withdrawn the Spirit. God hears our voices where we are now (Gen. 21:17), and God is greater than our hearts (1 John 3:19-20). Paul assures us that the Spirit intercedes for us when our prayers are inadequate or difficult to verbally express; the Spirit certainly isn't "put off" when we're weak, for those are the times when the Spirit steps in and takes our side (Rom. 8:26).
The church might (or might not) be a place where we can "come as we are," including times when we're tremendously sad. It depends upon the congregation: church folks might simplistically urge us to cheer up, to have more faith, to pray more, and other things that don't help at all when we're depressed, while other congregations might be places where folks uphold us amid our strong, sad emotions.
Lent can also be a time of getting things back into balance and in perspective. Speaking only for myself, my own blues are often attributable to something out of balance: I've been too busy and haven't taken time for exercise, for instance, or I've fallen into the trap of "what if" thinking, or whatever.
If you feel depressed during Lent (or any time), figure out things within your own circumstance and talk to people you know about your feelings; my thoughts here are simply to provide encouragement. Even in the best situations, we don't always give God "credit" for being as unfailingly, tenaciously loving as God is. In the midst of our difficult feelings, we perceive God as that uncomplimentary parent, that childhood bully, that difficult significant other, that fussy boss, or whoever created those "tapes" that we play over and over in our minds. But God is SO MUCH greater and better than that! I've drawn strength from this quote by Desmond Tutu: “There is nothing you can do that will make God love you less. There is nothing you can do to make God love you more. God’s love for you is infinite, perfect, and eternal.”(1)
Notes:
1. Lorraine Kisly (ed.), Ordinary Graces: Christian Teachings on the Interior Life (New York: Bell Tower, 2000), p. 192.
(A post from 2011)
This occurred to me as I was reading a book about God's nature. The book called attention to the vastness of God's mercy compared to the underlying selfishness of many of our prayers. So many of our prayers are, after all, "quid pro quo" prayers: God, if I do X, please do Y for me. God "sees through" our motives, however, and loves us anyway.
I actually got a little blue reading this chapter of the book, even though the main point was the mercy of God! That's because I felt compassion for people who are blue: when we're in the depths of sadness, our prayers can't help but have that "quid pro quo" quality--God, please help me to be happier, please show me ways to take away this sadness. We also beat up on ourselves even more than usual when we're depressed, and our prayers can feel self-focused because of our pain.
But a time of temporary or chronic sadness might be a powerful time to be reminded of God's vast love, including Lenten times. The psalms, of course, are wonderful prayers because many of them are quite forthright about the psalmists' distress! Psalms 42 and its companion 43 are examples. "For you are the God in whom I take refuge; why have you cast me off?" (Ps. 42:2). What a terrible concern, that God is not only silent but has rejected the psalmist! Fortunately that isn't the last word, for the psalmist knows to "hang on": "Hope in God; for I shall again praise him, my help and my God" (vs. 5). The psalmist isn't feeling praiseful now, but will eventually. During Lent, a depressed person might include psalms among devotional reading.
Lent might be a good time to prayerfully focus upon scriptures that depict God as a "place" of help. God is our machseh, which means "refuge" (Deut. 33:27, KJV and NIV) or “dwelling place” (RSV). Psalm 46:1 affirms that “God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.” Imagine God as a welcoming "place" to go when you're downhearted.
A wonderful thing, which we don't always think about, is that because of the Holy Spirit, we're even closer to God than the psalmists! Jesus opened up for us the Spirit (John 7:39), and now the Spirit functions as a guarantee of God's eternal love (2 Corinthians 5:5). By all means, don't think that your sadness is a sign that God has withdrawn the Spirit. God hears our voices where we are now (Gen. 21:17), and God is greater than our hearts (1 John 3:19-20). Paul assures us that the Spirit intercedes for us when our prayers are inadequate or difficult to verbally express; the Spirit certainly isn't "put off" when we're weak, for those are the times when the Spirit steps in and takes our side (Rom. 8:26).
The church might (or might not) be a place where we can "come as we are," including times when we're tremendously sad. It depends upon the congregation: church folks might simplistically urge us to cheer up, to have more faith, to pray more, and other things that don't help at all when we're depressed, while other congregations might be places where folks uphold us amid our strong, sad emotions.
Lent can also be a time of getting things back into balance and in perspective. Speaking only for myself, my own blues are often attributable to something out of balance: I've been too busy and haven't taken time for exercise, for instance, or I've fallen into the trap of "what if" thinking, or whatever.
If you feel depressed during Lent (or any time), figure out things within your own circumstance and talk to people you know about your feelings; my thoughts here are simply to provide encouragement. Even in the best situations, we don't always give God "credit" for being as unfailingly, tenaciously loving as God is. In the midst of our difficult feelings, we perceive God as that uncomplimentary parent, that childhood bully, that difficult significant other, that fussy boss, or whoever created those "tapes" that we play over and over in our minds. But God is SO MUCH greater and better than that! I've drawn strength from this quote by Desmond Tutu: “There is nothing you can do that will make God love you less. There is nothing you can do to make God love you more. God’s love for you is infinite, perfect, and eternal.”(1)
Notes:
1. Lorraine Kisly (ed.), Ordinary Graces: Christian Teachings on the Interior Life (New York: Bell Tower, 2000), p. 192.
(A post from 2011)
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