Daily Liturgy and Scripture

There was meaning in Jesus’ death, it wasn’t just an awful tragedy that happened to God’s Son. It was ordained as a part of God’s plan, and Jesus is God. He wasn’t surprised or shocked, he was moving toward the cross out of love. Before we get there, though, the apostles are going to get some pretty hard lessons. They were important enough that Jesus prayed for their preservation, since they were the only plan he made for the future of the Kingdom. The road to the cross was about them too, even if they weren't ready for the lesson.

Not a lot of good news in what Jesus is foretelling today. The destruction of the Temple is the most devastating blow imaginable to the Hebrew people, and the killing of many is just as horrible. But Jesus isn’t speaking in parables now. This really did happen, just a few decades after he foretold it. During this time, there also came several false Messiahs, all of whom also met some pretty horrible ends. It seems that this would be a sign that God had left his people and yet Jesus says, “you can know that the Kingdom of God is near.” While that seems like very little consolation to those going through the horror, God is still on the throne.

Once again, trying to stump Jesus his adversaries dig themselves a hole. (Keep in mind they were trying to show the ridiculousness of the resurrection primarily.) Not only does Jesus answer their question, he adds a little ridiculousness of his own: “Okay, smartie. So how is David’s son his Lord?” He wasn’t trying to beat them with logic. He was trying to take them beyond it. The law can only get us so far, but it’s Jesus that takes us all the way to the Father. It’s also pretty good advice not to debate resurrection with someone who was going to do that very thing. Then again, how could they know?

“Give Caesar what is Caesar’s, give God what is God’s.” This event with the coin is certainly one of note. Not Just because Jesus silenced those who questioned his authority, but because he got to the root of something deeper: while a coin bears Caesar’s image, we bear God’s image. Those who challenged him wanted him to say something that would anger the powers, and Jesus turned their argument on its head: let the powers have each other. The Kingdom is within you.

Much has been made of this scene of Jesus driving merchants out of the temple. From a justification of losing your temper to a denial that Jesus was mad at all, many sermons have guessed at what has happening here. I think one thing is certain: what Jesus was about was Kingdom business, not earthly business. To have earthly business going on at what should have been the center of the Kingdom’s breaking through on earth is totally sideways. Certainly we cannot manufacture holiness on our own, but we can do a better job of staying out of the way of its happening than these temple folk did.

There are no bystanders in Jesus’ Kingdom. His parable makes this pretty clear. There is also an interesting truth in the statement made by the servant who did nothing with his investment: he was afraid of the King. So afraid he did nothing. Is this how we feel about God? Are we too overwhelmed by the idea of him to even find the place we fit in the Kingdom? If that’s how you feel, remember: even the servant who invested a little was rewarded. And lest you think that just means the second servant wasn’t as good as the first, Jesus also defines giving as servanthood. It’s not a question of becoming more, but of becoming less.

I don’t think it’s a mistake that this Zacchaeus story comes so quickly after the story (yesterday) of the rich young man. The rich young man was probably well-respected, known as good, and upstanding in his community. Zacchaeus was the opposite of all of those things. “Notorious sinner” is probably kind language for most of the things he was called. His response is also the opposite of the rich young man’s: he vows to give money back, seemingly unprompted. Did he see Jesus talk to the other guy? There’s no way to know that, but it’s clear that something has been at work in his heart.

It’s easy to miss Jesus drawing a line between the law and his Kingdom in is conversation with the rich young man. The young man is certainly looking to tout his righteousness in the beginning, and Jesus really makes it easy for him to brag about his own goodness. But our goodness is never enough, and it’s not our ticket into the Kingdom. The law is always only enough to shine a light on our failure to achieve holiness. So what do we do? Follow the example of the penitent tax collector who who was ashamed to enter the temple: throw aside our trophies and follow Jesus.

This passage in Luke about people being taken and left is certainly one that has had many interpretations. Often, this visual gets lumped into the “left behind” discussion, the spiriting away of the church as many believe. It’s possible that’s what it means, but the passage sits in the midst of many parables where Jesus uses the image of a person to unveil a deeper truth. I looked to some of the writers of the early church (Cyril of Alexandria and Ambrose) who lean toward the idea that these “taken and left” folks are more than just random people. People in bed may mean people who have a good life and rest easy, perhaps the wealthy. Two women at a grindstone may indicate two people who must labor even for their bread, perhaps the poor. The “field” may mean those outside the Jewish faith.

Rapture or symbolism, we can perhaps agree on this common ground: those who find themselves in the Kingdom are not there because of status or family name. The moving of the Holy Spirit and the gathering of the church by Christ is his own work, and our response is worship and praise.

Today we remember Mary visiting Elizabeth, the leaping of a baby John the Baptist in the womb, and the indelible connection that God made with humanity. In Jesus, God became one of us, and John the Baptist was the one who made the way. John’s leaping in the womb at Mary’s entrance shows the connection God made in that incarnation. It was more than a casual appearance. Everything was about to change.